i wish my sister would do this with me

Colored the pic of young Vetra giving her little sister Sid a toy - just a cute little big sister moment.

I also ATTEMPTED to fix the head designs on both of them since they were off on the original sketch - this is my first time drawing Turians and they’re a challenge. A fun challenge! But a challenge. Makes me wish I could do character work for Bioware - the challenge would be so much fun.

But, yeah. Here you go. Teenage Vetra Nyx spending some of her first credits on a present for young Sid.

Just Friends

Requests: (1) Could you do a Draco imagine that consists of Cedric Diggory, Draco getting jealous, feels, conflict, and a load of jealousy?;

(2) Could you do an imagine where Draco and the reader are best friends and lowkey in love with each other but refuse to admit it, and progressively Draco starts making, erm, suggestive, comments to the reader and there’s just lots of sexual tension and eventually they get together?

⇢  A Draco x Reader work featuring a very jealous and steamy Draco.

Draco took a sip from his goblet, peering over the rim as you walked into The Great Hall with a handsome Hufflepuff by your side. Not that it bothered him, of course. In fact, Draco would say he hardly even noticed.

“You alright, mate?”

“Just fine. Why do you ask?”

Zabini shrugged. “Your nose has been inside your goblet for some time now. Trying to drown yourself, Malfoy?”

“Of course not.” Draco lowered the goblet from his face, never once taking his eyes off you. You were still talking to that boy.

Blaise followed Draco’s gaze and smirked. “Tell me, Draco, where’s that best friend of yours? She usually would have dropped by for her daily chat by now.” He watched as Draco’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. “Oh– I see her. She’s preoccupied by that Hufflepuff. Diggory, is it?”

“I don’t know. And I couldn’t care less, really.”

“Didn’t you two agree to attend the Yule Ball together?” A look of mock realization dawned on Zabini’s face. “Oh, that’s right. You two agreed to go only as friends. And now she’s chatting up the Triwizard Champion while you’re here dateless.”

“Appears so.” Draco remained impassive. “But at least I have an excuse for not bringing a date. Can you say the same?”

Zabini sobered as he took in Draco’s expressionless tone. Zabini may have been a tosser, but he knew when to stop. “You really like her, don’t you?”

Draco heaved a sigh, rubbing his temple and finally turning to face Blaise. “Is it obvious?”

“Only to someone with a brain.” Blaise paused. “Which explains why Y/N hasn’t caught on yet.”

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The photo comes up on the screens in front and behind her, and Diana’s heart melts. It’s a photo of Lori wearing a Supergirl costume. The host, the audience, and everybody watching at home can see how utterly happy Diana is to see her daughter by the beautiful smile on her lips.

“So tell us, how does it feel to see her in that costume instead of Wonder Woman’s?” The host asks good-heartedly.

“I mean,” Diana starts, her smile just as bright, “Supergirl is one of her other moms so I’m not taking it personally.” She chuckles. “But I’ll still get her to wear a mini Wonder Woman costume, you’ll see.” Diana says playfully, winking at the host who laughs along with her.

“But how about her other mom, Lena Luthor? She doesn’t wear a costume.”

“No, she doesn’t, you are correct, but Lori has many L-Corp t-shirts and hoodies.” Diana laughs softly.

“You brought a video to share with us, right?” The talk-show host asks. “Could you explain to us what was going on before we show it to the audience?”

“Of course.” Diana’s smile widens, and she sits up straighter. “Kara and I found this t-shirt that says ‘my moms are heroes’ and we couldn’t resist it, we bought it for Lori.

“On the video, Lena is recording us putting the shirt on her, and she asks Lori who’s her favorite hero.”

“That’s an adorable t-shirt! Let’s see what happens.” The host says, and the video starts playing.

It begins exactly how Diana described it; you can hear Lena’s laughter as a three-year-old Lori fussed while Kara tries to put on the shirt over the one Lori is already wearing.

“Stay still for your mom, will you, λίγο φως?” Diana asks on the video, and the audience can see the child freeze like a statue which doesn’t necessarily make things easier, but Kara manages to slip the shirt on.

“What does it say? What does it say???” Lori asks excitedly, making Diana and the host laugh in the studio, although Diana has a look of pure adoration in her eyes.

“It says ‘my moms are heroes’.” Kara replies on the video, and Lori squeals, running around saying, “I love it! I love it!” over and over again.

“Lori? Lori?” Lena’s voice can be heard behind the camera. “Baby, which one of your moms is your favorite hero?”

The child pauses to consider the question, and Diana takes the opportunity to say, “You can’t see it, because she is behind the camera, but Lena was smirking at us. She thought she was just about to start something.”

In the video, the audience can see Lori running toward Lena, getting way too close to the camera, forcing Lena to quickly readjust it. “My favorite hero is you, mama!!!! Because mom and mommy always tell me I wouldn’t be here without your smarts!!!”

The audience “aw’s” in unison, and Diana chuckles lowly. “You should have seen how hard we all cried, especially Lena, of course.”

“I can imagine!” The host says. “So she really had a combination of all of your DNA’s? All three of you?”

“Yes.” There’s a proud smile on Diana’s face.

“That’s astounding!”

“I know! And as Lori said, it wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for Lena.”

“But how did she do it?” The host asks curiously, making Diana laugh heartily.

“You would have to invite her over so she could explain the specifics, but using Kryptonian and Amazonian tech and knowledge, plus Lena’s intellect, it was possible.”

“And was it a surprise to you and Kara?”

“Yes! Gods, it was!” Diana chuckles, but there are tears welling up in her eyes. “You know we can’t legally get married here, even though we are married by Amazonian convention, so when we started talking about having kids I just assumed it would be done with ‘men’s technology’, and that one of them would carry the baby since the two of them are the ones legally married here-”

“Does that hurt you? That it’s the two of them in the eyes of the government?”

“Do I wish we could all be married here? Yes. Does it pain me or cause any jealousy? Absolutely not. Our relationship is stronger than that.” Diana says with an easy smile.

The host makes an impressed face, and the audience laughs. “Alright, most of us can’t figure out how to make a two-person marriage work, but okay.” She chuckles. “But carry on, you were talking about Lena.”

“Yes, so I thought it would be done that way, with a donor, IVF, and one of them would carry it to term, but Lena had her secret plan.” Diana grins. “She found a way to combine our DNA’s and dispense the male donor.”

“How did you react when Lena broke the news to you?”

Diana looks almost as stunned by the question as she likely did on that very day. She blushes slightly, smoothing her palms over her thighs. “I… did not believe her, at first. Though I know her too well to think she would joke about something like THAT with me. I…” She pauses, reaching to discretely wipe the corner of her eye with her pinky. “Children are…. something sacred to my people. We, as you have likely heard, do not have them. So this meant so much not just for me, but for my Mothers, and my sisters…. and though I would have happily carried a child of just the two of them, the fact that she not only found a way to include me, but that.. they wished to do so. It was likely the best moment of my life.”

“We’re very happy for you and your family, and thank you for sharing Lori’s story with us, but before you go, we have a little surprise for you.” An assistant comes out with four shirts, one for each member of the family, including a tiny one for Lori, and he hands them over to Diana. “Our production came up with a mash of all your symbols.” The host explains, and Diana unfolds a shirt to see the resulted symbol at the same time as it is shown on the screens for the audience to see.

Hugging the shirts tightly, Diana thanks the host profusely as the show’s theme song starts playing and the camera zooms out to go to their commercial break.

{{written with the help of the wonderful @i-am-diana-of-themyscira }}
Toad Words

            Frogs fall out of my mouth when I talk. Toads, too.

            It used to be a problem.

            There was an incident when I was young and cross and fed up with parental expectations. My sister, who is the Good One, has gold fall from her lips, and since I could not be her, I had to go a different way.

            So I got frogs. It happens.

            “You’ll grow into it,” the fairy godmother said. “Some curses have cloth-of-gold linings.” She considered this, and her finger drifted to her lower lip, the way it did when she was forgetting things. “Mind you, some curses just grind you down and leave you broken. Some blessings do that too, though. Hmm. What was I saying?”

            I spent a lot of time not talking. I got a slate and wrote things down. It was hard at first, but I hated to drop the frogs in the middle of the road. They got hit by cars, or dried out, miles away from their damp little homes.

            Toads were easier. Toads are tough. After awhile, I learned to feel when a word was a toad and not a frog. I could roll the word around on my tongue and get the flavor before I spoke it. Toad words were drier. Desiccated is a toad word. So is crisp and crisis and obligation. So are elegant and matchstick.

            Frog words were a bit more varied. Murky. Purple. Swinging. Jazz.

I practiced in the field behind the house, speaking words over and over, sending small creatures hopping into the evening.  I learned to speak some words as either toads or frogs. It’s all in the delivery.

            Love is a frog word, if spoken earnestly, and a toad word if spoken sarcastically. Frogs are not good at sarcasm.

            Toads are masters of it.

            I learned one day that the amphibians are going extinct all over the world, that some of them are vanishing. You go to ponds that should be full of frogs and find them silent. There are a hundred things responsible—fungus and pesticides and acid rain.

            When I heard this, I cried “What!?” so loudly that an adult African bullfrog fell from my lips and I had to catch it. It weighed as much as a small cat. I took it to the pet store and spun them a lie in writing about my cousin going off to college and leaving the frog behind.

            I brooded about frogs for weeks after that, and then eventually, I decided to do something about it.

            I cannot fix the things that kill them. It would take an army of fairy godmothers, and mine retired long ago. Now she goes on long cruises and spreads her wings out across the deck chairs.

            But I can make more.

            I had to get a field guide at first. It was a long process. Say a word and catch it, check the field marks. Most words turn to bronze frogs if I am not paying attention.

            Poison arrow frogs make my lips go numb. I can only do a few of those a day. I go through a lot of chapstick.  

            It is a holding action I am fighting, nothing more. I go to vernal pools and whisper sonnets that turn into wood frogs. I say the words squeak and squill and spring peepers skitter away into the trees. They begin singing almost the moment they emerge.

            I read long legal documents to a growing audience of Fowler’s toads, who blink their goggling eyes up at me. (I wish I could do salamanders. I would read Clive Barker novels aloud and seed the streams with efts and hellbenders. I would fly to Mexico and read love poems in another language to restore the axolotl. Alas, it’s frogs and toads and nothing more. We make do.)

            The woods behind my house are full of singing. The neighbors either learn to love it or move away.

            My sister—the one who speaks gold and diamonds—funds my travels. She speaks less than I do, but for me and my amphibian friends, she will vomit rubies and sapphires. I am grateful.

            I am practicing reading modernist revolutionary poetry aloud. My accent is atrocious. Still, a day will come when the Panamanian golden frog will tumble from my lips, and I will catch it and hold it, and whatever word I spoke, I’ll say again and again, until I stand at the center of a sea of yellow skins, and make from my curse at last a cloth of gold.

Terri Windling posted recently about the old fairy tale of frogs falling from a girl’s lips, and I started thinking about what I’d do if that happened to me, and…well…

In another universe,
we bumped into each other 
at the coffee shop off campus,
we are both 18 or maybe 19
and there is not an age difference 
that causes you to keep me hidden.

Post coffee shop meet-cute,
we would fall in love 
just as quickly as we did here,
because that is the consistency of us-
we fall and fall and fall
until we can’t see ourselves 
or where we started.

But in this other world,
you would meet my friends and family,
my dad would make weird jokes about me to you
and my little sister would threaten your life 
if you hurt me (I wish she had done that here)
and the catch is:
you won’t be worried 
because you won’t be doing anything wrong.

In this alternative reality 
that I am not sure exists,
you are loving, just loving 
and that is it. Sure, 
you are funny and smart 
and whatever other positive characteristics
you think you have but you don't 
break me.

6 years older
than my teenage heart, 
you should have known better 
but I’ve got a dozen scars that say 
you didn’t give a shit about what you did.

That’s the beauty of alternate universes though,
somewhere we are happy and I am whole
and somewhere else, I kicked your ass 
for what you did and you
know you were wrong.

—  AU || O.L.

Reader x Klaus Mikaelson



Imagine: You are Rebekah Mikaelson’s best friend and, ah, a mermaid. She brough you home in a gesture act. What she did not expect was that her brother, Klaus, would fall for you and, whilst doing so, he win your heart over.

Warnings: swearing, kissing, some violent descriptions (not that big of a deal), mentions of sex, fluff

Word Count: 4250 (i think i broke my record with this one)

Patiently waiting for Rebekah Mikaelson, who happened to be your best friend for quite some time now, at a bar, you thought of how much your life had changed in the past year. All because you were forced to abandon your mermaid nature after one reckless night you spend at a forbidden cave; sure, your mother had warned you what would happen if you went there during a full moon, but you always thought she was just being an overprotective mum. Ultimately, she was not, for the next morning you woke up entirely naked. Oh, and with freaking legs instead of your blueish tail as well.

A gentle chuckle left your lips when you remembered the stunned looks the humans gave you once you managed to get out of the cave. Nudity can get them incredibly nervous.

“I presume you’re waiting for my sister, love.” A masculine voice, soaked in a marvellous British accent, said. “May I keep you company?”

“Suit yourself, Niklaus.” Your reply was short, straight to the point. “But I warn you she’ll be mad if she finds you here.”

“I know how to deal with Rebekah.” He smirked, sitting on one of the chairs and facing you with those deep blue eyes. “You know that.”

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Who’s That Vans Girl?: @NouxNoux

With a lust for creativity and a passion for style, this Dutch transplant’s head-to-toe Vans Girls looks totally caught our eye. Not only does Anouk’s natural style stand out, but her lust for life and creativity shines through on her Instagram and blog. We caught up with the style grad to talk about her effortless fashion sense and living “Off The Wall” in Southern California.

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Imagine: Pretending to be a man and joining the Night’s Watch, eventually causing Jon Snow to fall for you.

A/N: This was supposed to be an entry for @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen’s Disney challenge, it’s a Game of Thrones and Mulan crossover, however, I was not able to submit it in time because life got in the way, I still wanted to finish and post it though. A lot of this is not going to follow the plot of Game of Thrones, for example I know that Cersei doesn’t have a cousin named William, but I did what I thought would fit the story. Anyways, ENJOY!

Warnings: This is a Game of Thrones imagine so there is some violence!

Y/B/N = Your Boy Name (as in the name you choose to use to disguise yourself)

Another braid, another flower, you sigh as your handmaiden styles your hair, “Please stop moving Lady Y/N.”

“Why is this necessary Mary, I don’t wish to please Lord William or his family, I don’t even wish to get married, so why must I get ready for them,” You groan, you were the fourth child of House Y/L/N, and your elder sisters were both happily married, you however, were not like them. You did not wish to marry a nobleman and live a peaceful life of royalty, you had always wanted to be a warrior like your older brother.

“Your mother and father wish for you to marry Lord William. This will be perfect for you mi’lady, he is the cousin of the Queen, you will live a wonderful life.”

“Father and mother do not want me to marry him to give me a better life Mary,” Mary pins down your last strand of hair, then sits to face you with a confused expression on her face, “They want my younger brother Edward to marry William’s sister, and the only way the Lannisters will agree to that is if I marry William.”


You turn away from Mary, and look at your reflection in the mirror, “You know that that’s the truth Mary, I’d never pass a perfect bride, or a perfect daughter. I’ve always been the strange one, I’ve always been the daughter they wish they never had, and now’s their chance to send me away. If I were to show who I really am, I wou-I would break my family’s heart.”  

“They love you very much mi’lady.”

“I’m not like my sisters Mary, I’m an imperfect girl, I can’t live a perfect life.”

“Y/N, mother is calling for you, the Lannisters are almost here!” Your sister called as she entered your chambers.

Mary urges you to get up, “We must go Lady Y/N, we do not want to upset your mother.”

Your family stood at the gates of your home, as the Lannisters approached. Your mother frantically looks around to find you, you rush down the stairs, praying to the Seven Gods to protect you from falling in your pathetic dress.

“There you are Y/N! Cover up those scratches on your arms!” You mother scolded, gesturing to the scrapes and scars on your arms from years of fighting, “And stand properly Y/N, you are a lady of the house Y/L/N for heaven’s sake!”

“Yes mother,” You sigh, pulling a shawl over your arms.

The Lannisters finally reach you, and one by one you greet each other. William approaches you and bows, he takes you hand and places a light kiss on it, “Greetings my lady. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you Lord William,” You respond, William is incredibly handsome, and any normal girl would feel insanely giddy if he greeted her in such a way, but you felt nothing.

The next few days go by, and you’re forced to spend time with William. It’s not entirely bad, he’s a very kind man, but you couldn’t be yourself around him. Your brother, Edward, on the other hand was really falling for William’s sister, so everyone was counting on you to impress William.

You were currently practicing your sword skills in the woods by the riverbed, hoping that no one would find you. You hear footsteps approaching you from behind, and in force of habit, you quickly turn on your heel and point you sword out, “Easy there!”

“Lord William! I-I…” You drop your sword, feeling at a loss for words.

“Lady Y/N,” He pauses, trying to collect his thoughts, “I did not expect to see you like this, I-I didn’t realize how…vicious you were.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Well, I guess it’s okay for you play around like this sometimes.”

“Play around?” You asked, feeling slightly upset by his choice of words, “William, I’ve been training since I was a little girl! I’m not playing.”

He chuckles, “Training? What would you need to train for my lady?”

It’s now or never Y/N, just tell him, maybe he’ll understand, you know he likes you! You sigh, “I want to be a warrior William.”

“W-what?” He looks genuinely confused, “You can’t be serious Y/N?”

“I am.”

“LEAVE. I WANT YOU TO LEAVE MY HOME AND NEVER RETURN!” You have never seen your mother so angry. William refused to marry you upon learning how you feel, and the Lannisters decided it would be best to leave. Edward was heartbroken, and the rest of your family refused to even look at you.

“Fine mother, I’ll go,” you spat venomously, “and I swear to you, I will never come back.”

You rush up to your room, and grab your knife. You stare at your tear stained face and slice off a strand of your hair, then another, and another, until all of it is shoulder length. You strip out of your horrendous dress and begin wrapping a long strip of cloth around your chest, hoping to make yourself look as flat as possible. You slip into your brother’s clothing and emotionally blackmail Mary into helping you escape.

You spend the next few days marching north, you finally reach the Wall and within the following week you have taken your vows and become an official member of the Night’s Watch. Your struggle, however, has not ended. Every night you go to bed relieved that no one discovered your secret, and every morning you wake up with the fear that today might be the day they find out.  

You make your way out of the food hall, it was your first official day of training - up until now they were just trying to figure out what you were and were not good at - you were a good fighter, but apparently you weren’t good enough. You see the men gathered outside, you’re a few minutes late and from what you’ve heard, the trainer was not very lenient.

“And you must be Y/B/N, glad to see that you could join us,” He chided.

“I’m sorry,” You look down at your feet, he’s quite attractive…stop it Y/N!

“Since you clearly think you’re too good for this, take a sword and fight with me,” He throws the sword in your direction, and you catch it. The other men stare hungrily, waiting for the fight to begin.

He swings his sword at you and you duck away, you were good, but you’d never gotten into an actual fight like this. You hear a few men laugh, “Get him Snow!”

Snow? As in the Jon Snow, infamous bastard of Lord Eddard Stark? You heard rumors about him joining the watch, but you never thought you’d be fighting against him. He takes your moment of distraction, to punch you and throw you to the ground.

You sit up, coughing as you try to catch your breath, and you wipe a small trickle of blood off the side of your mouth.

“Pathetic,” Jon mutters, before deciding to continue with his usual lesson.

By the end of the day you were sore and completely out of breath, “Alright men, the last task of the day will be climbing. Everyone get your equipment and begin.”

You tilt your head up to see the top of the wall that you’ll be climbing, that thing must be nearly 100 metres high…bloody hell! You take your ice axe and strike the wall, it barely goes in, that would never hold. By the time you finally lodge your axe into the wall, most of the others are already at least 20 feet up. Determined to catch up to the others, you climb up and lodge your axe a bit higher. You’re about 10 feet off the ground when the axe comes loose. Before you know what’s happening, you go tumbling to the ground, you let out a feminine scream and groan when you hit the hard ground. As your vision refocuses, you see Jon standing above you, he gives his hand and the look on his face shows exactly how disappointed he is, “Get up.”

“I-I’m sorry! It slipped and…”

“Enough. You have no hope to become a Ranger, just leave Y/B/N.”

“But-” Before you can finish, Jon has already turned around and is dismissing the others.      

No! No Y/N, you did not come all the way to Castle Black for this, you did not leave your family and future to become a steward! As everyone walks away, you march back towards the wall, take your equipment, and attempt to climb once again.

Night falls, and you are nearly at the top. A couple more feet Y/N, come on! Your body screams from exhaustion, but you continue. Finally, you reach the top. You sit on the edge of the wall and nearly cry from happiness.

The men who work the night shift circle the ground below you, and Jon walks over to speak to one of them.

“Snow!” You shout, “Am I still too pathetic to become a ranger?”

He stares up at you in shock for a moment before his face breaks into a charming smile, causing you to smile cheerfully as well.

“Men!” Jon calls everyone to attention, “A group of Wildlings have crossed over to our lands and are acting as a threat to our people. I will be leading a troop of Rangers to fight.”

You have only been training for a few weeks, and though you have become one of Jon’s favourites, you do not expect to be taken along on this trip, so when your name is called you’re taken aback but overjoyed at the same time.

The fight is in full force when you notice a Wildling sneaking up behind Jon with an axe in his hand. You rush forward and block the blow with your shield a second before it has a chance to hit him. Jon quickly turns towards you and shoots you a grateful look before continuing his fight.

Eventually, the fight ends. Most of the Wildlings are dead, and a few have fled. Jon walks over to you, “Y/B/N, what were you thinking jumping in front of that axe? You are the craziest man I’ve ever met, and for that I owe you my life. From now on, you have my complete trust.”

You smile at him, but your moment of happiness is short-lived, “Y/B/N! Watch out!”

You spin around to see what’s happening, and you’re met with a dagger to your stomach. You cry out in pain, and fall to the ground. With a swift movement of his sword, Jon beheads the man that stabbed you, and he’s instantly by your side, “He’s wounded! Get help! Y/B/N, hold on.”

You are woken up by a dull pain to the side of your stomach, you look around and find yourself in some sort of tent. You see the shadow of two people talking outside, and suddenly Jon walks in. You get up, and your blanket slides off your shoulders, Jon’s eyes go wide, you look down only to realize that you are in nothing but bandages that are tightly wrapped around your chest and torso, showing off every curve of your body.

“Jon, please! I can explain!” He looks away in disgust.

Peter, a man who’s hated you from the moment you joined the Watch, bursts into the tent, “So it’s true!”

He pushes past Jon and takes your arm, roughly dragging you out of the tent, he throws you to the ground as the rest of the men surround you, “I knew there something wrong with you! A woman!”

“My name is Y/N!”

He scoffs, “A woman in the Night’s Watch! This is treason! You’ll surely take care of this, will you not Snow?”

Jon looks down at you in disappointment, he sighs and takes his sword out. You look away, at least you get to die as yourself Y/N. He draws his sword back and drops it by your knees. You look up at him in confusion, “A life for a life. Now my debt has been paid.”

He turns away from you, “Jon…”

“Move out men!” He calls before mounting his horse.

You watch as the men recede in the distance.

“What did you expect?” You ask yourself out loud, “They’d see that you could fight, and take you in with open arms? Jon was right… I’m pathetic.”

You make your way back to the wall as it was your only way back home, when you hear two men approaching, “If they only knew, that was just the smoke before the real fire starts up. Those bloody fools will never know what hit them. We distracted the Night’s Watch long enough to get our people into the surrounding villages, their land will be ours in no time!”

You stand in shock, this was a part of their plan! I have to warn the Watch! When you finally approach Castle Black, you are met with disapproving stares and whispers. You walk up to a close friend of yours but even he turns away, “Matthew please, I must speak with the commander, it’s urgent!”

“It’s best if you turn back, you are no longer welcome here,” He says, the betrayal he’s feeling is evident on his face.

“Please, just…just listen to me. Once. Matthew, I’ve been living here for weeks, you’ve become one of my closest friends, have I ever done anything to hurt you?” He stares at you in silence, “Just hear me out.”

“Fine, but this will be the last time.”

“The Wildlings have planned to raid our villages, the fight that took place earlier was only a distraction. I’m going to help, if you believe, then please, send help,” With that, you mount your horse and head off towards the nearest village.

As you approach the village, you see a man holding an axe to a young boy’s throat. You slyly approach him, and point your sword towards his back, “Drop your weapon or my sword will go right through you.”

He laughs, “You don’t want to fight me girl, stand down.”

“I said, let the boy go,” You hiss venomously.

“And I said no,” With one swift motion, you push your sword through the man’s back, he cries out and falls to his knees, “You filthy bitch!”

Ignoring his final words, you crouch down next to the fearful boy, “I won’t let them hurt you. I promise.”

“And we’re not going to let anyone hurt you either Y/N,” You turn your head to see Jon approaching on his horse, followed by Matthew and other men of the Watch.

“Jon, you came!” You smile.

He walks up to you and places his hand on your shoulder, “I was wrong to judge you Y/N. You are very brave for a woman.”

“Thank you,” You blush.

After you final fight in the village a year ago, you were sent back to your family. After hearing of your bravery, your eldest brother had decided to take you in, you trained and fought alongside him, and no one pressured you to marry anymore.

You woke up one morning and heard a familiar voice as you passed by the balcony. You looked down and so none other than Jon Snow talking to your brother. Blush crept up your neck as you ran down the staircase to greet him.

“Jon!” Jon and your brother turned to you with smiles, “What are you doing here.”

“As you probably heard, my father and brother, have been killed, I left the Watch and reclaimed Winterfell.”

“My brother has told me about how you bravely defeated Ramsay Bolton and his army, I meant, what are you doing here?” You ask, gesturing around yourself.

“I think it would be best if I told you Y/N,” Your brother answers, “Lord Snow has come here to ask for your hand in marriage.”

You blush harder and look down, Jon adds, “But your brother was telling me that you were not interested in marrying anyone.”

“I never said that!” You say defensively, “I just wanted to wait for the right man.”

Your brother chuckles, “So, are you saying that you would like to marry Lord Snow?”

“I-um-yes,” Despite the cool air around you, your face burns furiously. Your brother mutters something about how your mother would never believe the news, and rushes off, leaving you alone with Jon.

“It’s really nice to finally see you again Lady Y/N.”

“You as well Lord Snow.”


Masterlist // Rules List // To-Do List

sebashie  asked:

"I'm afraid that I might hurt you!" "..." (I want you to hurt me...)

Okay soo….. some notes…. rough sex is on the way, so don’t think that I have neglected that interpretation of this prompt ;)

Also, Link is mute and does sign language in this. It just sort of worked better that way.

Also also, I don’t really know what this is, I just sorta went with my intuition for it, so if it’s out of character, I apologize.

That said! Thank you for the prompt :D


Link stands across the great hall from Prince Sidon, sword drawn and shield up.

Sidon’s hand is loosely on the hilt of his sword, his fingers hesitating to wrap around it. He bites his lip and smiles crookedly at Link.

Link furrows his brow and thrusts his sword out to Sidon, an indication that Sidon should draw his weapon as well. When it becomes clear that Sidon will not do so, Link sighs heavily, sheaths his sword, and rests his shield against his leg. We agreed to this, he signs.

And they had agreed to a friendly bout earlier that morning. Link has spent several days recuperating from a lynel attack and he’s starting to feel fidgety. Sidon’s company is wonderful, too wonderful, in fact. Link is certain, becomes more and more certain with each recovered memory, that he does not deserve all of the glowing praise the Prince piles on him. Which is to say nothing of how beautiful Sidon is or how much Link wants him and a sword match seems to be the best way to vent his frustration.

“I know we agreed,” Sidon says, scuffing his foot against the floor and averting his gaze from Link. “But are you sure you are quite recovered? I am afraid that I might hurt you!”

Link gives him a furious look and signs angrily, I want you to hurt me.

Sidon looks entirely taken aback by this. But he has to know, Link thinks, Sidon has to know all of the guilt he feels, how much of a failure he was a hundred years ago. Sidon has to know that Link deserves whatever pain he might inflict.

His thoughts sour his mood and only serve to infuriate him. Sidon knows, he has to! Hurt me!, he signs. Link draws his sword again, leaving his shield to fall forgotten on the floor and charges at Sidon.

Caught completely off-guard, Sidon doesn’t react in time to dodge the first blow, but his tough skin absorbs most of it. He flinches, but stays mainly still as Link slashes at him, which only enrages Link further.

The sword falls from Link’s grip, but it does nothing to slow him down. He pounds his small fists against Sidon’s torso until finally the Prince grabs his arms just below his shoulders and easily holds him up off the ground. Link kicks and struggles, but it has no apparent effect on Sidon.

“Link, my dear friend, what is wrong?” Sidon cranes his head to meet Link’s eyes.

Link squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head away.

Sidon sets Link down gently, picking up the hero’s sword and handing it back to him. “Are you angry with me?” the Prince asks.

Link flashes him a miserable look as he signs, No, of course not.

“Then you are angry at yourself.”

Link inwardly curses Sidon’s keenly perceptive nature. He nods. Of course he is angry at himself. How is everyone not angry at him? He failed and now Princess Zelda is the one doing the job that should be his. She suffers while he runs about fighting monsters and doing menial tasks given to him by villagers. Not to mention all of the other champions are dead, including Mipha.

Sidon tilts Link’s chin up. “Link. I know what you are thinking.”

No, you don’t, Link signs with indignation.

“You are feeling guilty. I can see it in your eyes. You have much pain, dearest friend, but you do not have to carry it all alone. The champions, Mipha, would not want you to mourn them like this. They would wish you to honor their sacrifice by being brave and defeating Calamity Ganon and living a good life.” Sidon brushes a few stray strands of hair from Link’s face. “I love my sister. I miss her every day, sometimes so much that I become angry. Why was it her and not me instead? But being reckless, fighting all the time, will not bring her back.”

Link nods numbly. You’re right, he signs half-heartedly. From what he remembers of the champions, they knew. They all knew it might come to something like this, that they might lose their lives and they fought anyway. Link knows he would be disappointing them to mope, to mourn, to feel guilty. He looks up at Sidon and smiles weakly, his sword trembling in his hand.

Sidon smiles at Link. “The best way that I can think of,” he beings, “to honor my sister’s memory, is to love you as much as she did. More if I can.”

Link’s eyes go wide and he drops his sword and throws himself into Sidon’s arms, kissing the Zora Prince all over his face. Sidon cradles him, freeing his hands to sign a beautiful Thank you.

Kol Mikaelson Imagine: Lucky


Summary: Reader gets into fight with mother and then runs away from home. She comes to Mikaelsons’ house just to find out that her boyfriend Kol isn’t there. She decides to wait for him and once he comes home he comforts her.

Word Count: 1295

Originally posted by smallville88

I entered the kitchen still slightly swinging my hips as I  hummed the melody of my favorite song. I placed my backpack on a stool and filled a cup with water sitting down.

“Where have you been?” I rolled my eyes as I heard the cold voice of my mother who had just appeared.

Keep reading

womens murder club: director sanvers edition 

for anyone who doesnt know of the james patterson series of the same name, the premise is this: a detective, a lawyer, a reporter and a coroner are all friends - given their lines of work they often have some of the same cases on their plates. it leads to all kinds of shenanigans. 

now, i present to you: 

maggie sawyer 

fresh from gotham pd, she’s hoping that national city will be the fresh start she’s looking for. 

except, at her very first crime scene she sees the coroner, of all people, chatting with a reporter. maggie, not having any off this bullshit. she doesn’t care how attractive the woman might be. who does the medical examiner think she is? 

turns out 

alex danvers 

chief medical examiner for national city, thank you very much.  the youngest chief in history, with a reputation that precedes her - maggie sawyer didn’t do much in the way of making a friend when she approached the ME, declaring 

“at my crime scenes we don’t talk to the press.” 

and alex, utterly unimpressed “i didn’t think i needed your permission to talk to my little sister detective.” 

kara danvers 

reporter, also alex danvers’ little sister. 

maggie sawyer wishes the ground would just open beneath her feet already because now she’s made a fool of herself in front of the chief medical examiner, and her sister. 

who only writes one of the most popular crime columns in the city. 


now, alex and lucy are friends. maggie has caught them interacting at alex’s office and she can’t quite pin down what’s going on between them. 

kara on the other hand has no interest if her sister and her friend are hooking up. 

[spoiler alert: they are] 

lucy lane

former jag, now an ada for national city - she’s got a winning record that has the biggest defense firms in the country begging for her to come work for them. but lucy lane always, always turns them down. 

she office meets detective maggie sawyer over the course of maggies first case, 

and honestly, 

she’s impressed. impressed with how sawyer handled the case “including,” lucy says with a smirk “no leaks to the press.” 

and honestly maggie should have known right then and there she was screwed. 

the first, both official and unofficial gathering of what kara will dub ‘the murder club’ will be after a successful conviction of maggie’s first case, lucy prosecuted, alex was the ME - and kara getting an above the fold, page one by-line in her telling of the case. 

the shenanigans are limitless. 

The Protestant Who Would Pray the Hail Mary

The following is a true story that was posted in the Nigerian Catholics Facebook group on 15 May 2017.

A little six-year-old Protestant boy had often heard his Catholic companions reciting the prayer Hail Mary. He liked it so much that he copied it, memorized it, and would recite it every day. “Look, Mommy, what a beautiful prayer,” he said to his mother one day.

“Never again say it,” answered the mother. “It is a superstitious prayer of Catholics who adore idols and think Mary a goddess. After all, she is a woman like any other. Come on, take this Bible and read it. It contains everything that we are bound to do and have to do.” From that day on the little boy discontinued his daily Hail Mary and gave himself more time to read the Bible instead.

One day, while reading the Gospel, he came across the passage about the Annunciation of the Angel to Our Lady. Full of joy, the little boy ran to his mother and said: “Mommy, I have found the Hail Mary in the Bible which says: ‘Hail full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou amongst women.’ Why do you call it a superstitious prayer?”

On another occasion, he found that beautiful Salutation of St. Elizabeth to the Virgin Mary and the wonderful canticle MAGNIFICAT in which Mary foretold that “the generations would call her blessed.”

He said no more about it to his mother but started to recite the Hail Mary every day as before. He felt pleasure in addressing those charming words to the Mother of Jesus, our Savior.

When he was fourteen, he heard a discussion on Our Lady among the members of his family. Everyone said that Mary was a common woman like any other woman. The boy, after listening to their erroneous reasoning could not bear it any longer, and full of indignation, he interrupted them, saying:

“Mary is not like any other children of Adam, stained with sin. No! The Angel called her FULL OF GRACE AND BLESSED AMONGST WOMEN. Mary is the Mother of Jesus Christ and consequently Mother of God. There is no higher dignity to which a creature can be raised. The Gospel says that the generations will proclaim her blessed and you are trying to despise her and look down on her. Your spirit is not the spirit of the Gospel or of the Bible which you proclaim to be the foundation of the Christian religion.”

So deep was the impression which the boy’s talk had made that his mother many times cried out sorrowfully: “Oh my God! I fear that this son of mine will one day join the Catholic religion, the religion of Popes!” And indeed, not very long afterward, having made a serious study of both Protestantism and Catholicism, the boy found the latter to be the only true religion and embraced it and became one of its most ardent apostles.

Some time after his conversion, he met his married sister who rebuked him and said indignantly: “You little know how much I love my children. Should any one of them desire to become a Catholic, I would sooner pierce his heart with a dagger than allow him to embrace the religion of the Popes!”

Her anger and temper were as furious as those of St. Paul before his conversion. However, she would change her ways, just as St. Paul did on his way to Damascus. It so happened that one of her sons fell dangerously ill and the doctors gave up hope of recovery. Her brother then approached her and spoke to her affectionately, saying:

“My dear sister, you naturally wish to have your child cured. Very well, then, do what I ask you to do. Follow me, let us pray one Hail Mary and promise God that, if your son recovers his health, you would seriously study the Catholic doctrine, and should you come to the conclusion that Catholicism is the only true religion, you would embrace it no matter what the sacrifices may be.”

His sister was somewhat reluctant at the beginning, but as she wished for her son’s recovery, she accepted her brother’s proposal and recited the Hail Mary together with him. The next day her son was completely cured. The mother fulfilled her promise and she studied the Catholic doctrine. After long preparation she received Baptism together with her whole family, thanking her brother for being an apostle to her.

The story was related during a sermon given by the Rev. Fr. Tuckwell. “Brethren,” he went on and said, “the boy who became a Catholic and converted his sister to Catholicism dedicated his whole life to the service of God. He is the priest who is speaking to you now! What I am I owe to Our Lady. You, too, my dear brethren, be entirely dedicated also to Our Lady and never let a day pass without saying the beautiful prayer, ‘Hail Mary’, and your Rosary. Ask her to enlighten the minds of Protestants who are separated from the true Church of Christ founded on the Rock (Peter) and 'against whom the gates of hell shall never prevail.’”

Across the Stars, Chapter 6

Prologue   Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5   Chapter 7  Chapter 8

AN: Hi! It’s a little late, I know. I have so many things to do and my ADHD has been hitting me really hard these last couple of weeks and I have SO many things that I’ve been putting off and off and off and deadlines are staring me in the face and AHHHHH. But I like this chapter and I hope you all do as well!

“What the hell was that?” Feyre wrapped her arms around herself, narrowing her eyes as Tamlin stalked back into the bedroom after slamming the door behind Rhys. She dug her fingers into the cotton thermal, Rhys’s voice still slithering down her spine and sending a shudder of electricity spiking through her veins.

Tamlin’s own eyes narrowed. “Care to explain how you know him?”

She blinked, taken aback. “Know him? He literally just told you. We happen to go to the same coffee shop—“

“Is he the son of a bitch who’s been following you?” Tamlin’s voice was dangerous. “Did he follow you to work?”


“How much have you talked to him? What does he—“

“I don’t know him,” she ground out. “I’ve had maybe three conversations with him, all of them perfectly mundane.”

Keep reading

Circumstance (Part 5)

Ah! Here is part 5! The story is going to start picking up soon, so be prepared ;)

Tagging: @a-courtof-fangirls-and-fanfics @autumn03 @rhysandpurred @crazybookladythings @readinggiraffe (let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 

If Ember didn’t already love Velaris, she absolutely adored it after she found out about the library. Mor had introduced it to her during their tour and Ember had barely ever left since. Sure, they had a pretty extensive collection in Terrasen, but many of their books had been burned by Uncle Dorian’s father decades ago. What was left is the smallest fraction of what had been. The library under the House of Wind, however, was seemingly endless.

Luckily, her hosts were pretty accommodating to her wish to spend as much time as possible with the newfound books, and when she had started her lessons with Feyre and Rhys a few days ago, they had agreed to work down here. Mor would come and get her at the end of the day to winnow her back to her quarters, a form of travel Ember was slowly getting used to.

Unfortunately, due to the beginning of her physical training with Cassian, diplomatic training with the High Lord and Lady, and her obsession with the library, Ember has not been able to go with Brexton to see the art gallery yet. It’s actually been pushed to the back of her mind. Either that or she’s avoiding it. For various reasons.

Her second night in Velaris, Ember slept in the actual bed, finding that the scent coating the blanket from the first night, was deeply ingrained into the bed as well. It wasn’t a far stretch to assume that the scent must belong to the owner of the room. Because of this revelation, Ember started to have mixed feelings about Cadewyn, for whenever she would walk into the room, her body would instinctively relax when she inhaled the scent. It all proved to be terribly confusing.

To add on to her bewilderment, during the first few leadership sessions, it seemed like Feyre and Rhys were tiptoeing around something. Although, it’s always difficult to judge someone’s actions after you’ve just met them, Ember has had plenty of practice with foreign diplomats and suitors that come to Terrasen to meet with her parents or ask to court her. She has learned the hard way how to judge new people and judge quickly before they do anything potentially damaging to the country or to her heart.

This inner turmoil and confusion is circling around in her head as she joins the whole host of Rhys’ Inner Circle for breakfast. Halfway through the meal, a letter is delivered for her from Terrasen. She recognizes her sister’s slightly sloppy handwriting immediately. Excusing herself from the table, Ember races to her room to read in peace. As always, Gusty’s letter is in frantic, hurried writing, to portray a sense of urgency to the message that Ember had yet to perfect as well as her little sister.

Keep reading

221B Midgard Part 2

221B Midgard Part 2/2

Pairing: Sherlock x Asgardian Reader

Word Count: 1032


Request: @imboredsueme Oh, it’s a Sherlock x reader. The reader is from Asgard and kind of crashed into England, (you can choose why she left in the first place)  and Sherlock went to investigate. And he wants to know where she came from and he doesn’t believe her because it’s impossible and then like a few weeks later Loki comes looking for her and tries to take her back but she doesn’t want to leave Sherlock?

Part 1

That’s how things moved on for weeks, slowly, painfully. It seemed every step you took was another step back. You were no closer to returning to Asgard than the first day you arrived in this realm.

Sherlock had been so helpful and had been doing everything he could. His brother, Mycroft, was able to attain your SHIELD file, but it proved little help. You had contacted SHIELD, but with the Tesseract now back in Asgard there was no way for them to help you.

You now sat at the top of Sherlock’s bed, your back against the headboard, after another unsuccessful day. You could tell Sherlock was stressed, he didn’t like being wrong and not being able to fix or solve something. He now laid across the bottom of the bed, his head in his hands, clearly agitated.

“Sherlock,” he looked up to you, you wanted to relieve some of his stress but didn’t quite know how, “can I tell you a story? My mother used to tell it to us when we were younger.”

He crawled closer to you and laid his head in your lap, your fingers found their way into his hair, rubbing soothing circles and patterns.

“Before there was soil, or sky, or any green thing, there was only a gaping abyss. This chaos of perfect silence and darkness lay between the homeland of elemental fire and ice.” You began the story you had heard so many times as a child. Sherlock looked up to you as you spoke, blinking slowly and tiredly.

“The frost and billowing flames crept toward each other until they met in the gaping abyss. Amid the hissing and sputtering, the fire melted the ice, and the drops formed themselves into the first of the godlike giants. Soon more and more giants were born of this first.” You continued, his eyes shut but you knew he wasn’t asleep yet.

“Once born, Odin and his brothers slew the first godlike giant and set about constructing the world from his corpse. They fashioned the oceans from his blood, the soil from his skin and muscles, vegetation from his hair, clouds from his brains, and the sky from his skull.” You continued, and his breathing grew softer and softer.

“Four dwarves, corresponding to the four cardinal points, held the slain giant’s skull aloft above the earth. The gods eventually formed the first man and woman, from two tree trunks, and built a fence around their dwelling-place, Midgard, to protect them from the giants.” You watched his chest move up and down, slowly, and you placed a kiss onto his forehead.

“Sherlock Holmes, you have saved my life in ways you couldn’t even imagine, I’m forever in your debt.” you muttered as you slipped off to sleep as well.

The next morning you woke and found Sherlock at his desk. He was scribbling frantically.

“What are you doing?” You asked, and he jumped slightly, not knowing you were awake. He pulled you over to examine his work, and you noticed the nine realms drawn out among other things.

“I figured it out! Your story, the creation of the cosmos. It necessitates the destruction of what came before it, right? What if we apply the same thinking to the portals. If we destroy the one you came in-” He began, frantically, and you followed.

“We could control where the new one forms and where it sends you! Oh that’s clever!” You beamed, and in a time where you should have felt hope for returning home, you felt sadness for what you would be leaving behind.

In your short stay here you had grown so attached to the midgardian standing next to you. You’d grown accustomed to their ways, their odd technologies, and even their food and clothing.

“Just one problem, you can’t destroy a portal.” A voice behind you spoke and you whipped around so fast it hurt your neck. You knew that voice, it was one you’d been deprived of for too long.

“Loki!” You lept into his arms, he chuckled and held you, “How the hell did you get here?”

“Where did you pick up such colorful language, sister.” He smirked.

“How did you flee the cell? Did you escape? Did they let you go? Was it Thor, I bet it was Thor-” You rambled and he silenced you.

“How loquacious you’ve become dear sister. I’m here to take you home to Asgard, though we don’t know how you managed to get here in the first place.” He said, and you smiled at him, until you turned back to your new companion and your smile dropped.

Could you leave him now? After hundreds of years of Asgard you never once felt as much at home as you did here with the detective who took your case. When you were here he smiled, he ate, he was kind. What would happen to him if you left now.

“You should go, your family probably misses you.” Sherlock said, and you begged him with your eyes to ask you to stay. One word from him and you would drop everything and stay.

“I should have known this would happen.” Loki said, and you turned to face him questioningly.

“Me stumbling into a portal to Midgard? Even you couldn’t have predicted that one Loki.” you said and he shook his head.

“It’s much suited for you. You never fit in much on Asgard, and they’ll be much more to keep you occupied with here. And so many books, numbers beyond your wildest imagination.” He said.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, but knew exactly.

“You don’t want to leave. If you’re lucky you only fall in love once my sister, what kind of brother would I be to pull you away from that.” Loki said, staring back at Sherlock.

“You’d stay for me?” Sherlock asked, and you slowly crept towards him.

“I’d do anything for you.” You answered, your hand wrapping slowly around the base of his neck, pulling lightly until your lips met. His hand slipped into your hair, and neither of you noticed Loki had vanished behind you, granting you your wish.

“Sherlock Holmes, my Midgardian.” You smirked.

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sulk-e  asked:

so i'm not sure if you take advice, but if you do, i'm pretty new to sugaring and unsure how to bring up money/allowances ? it feels awkward and i'm worried it could turn POT's off ? guys always ask me what i'm looking for and i don't know how to say it without scaring them off.. i think i'm looking for something 4x a month for like 2k or more ? idk

Yes I do answer advice questions. I’m glad you’ve chosen sugaring to fulfill your financial needs, and here’s a warm welcome into the sugar bowl! It’s not for everyone, and I hope you’ve come to terms with the isolation and fright it comes with firstly. That being said, the allowance talk is different for everyone. I’m a Communication major so I tend to be a little vocal and up front with what I want. I’m good with negotiation as well, but I don’t do it unless I really like the man [which is rare]! You’re new, so I would recommend that you discuss this over SA private messages or texts because its difficult for the best of us to negotiate allowance in person or over the phone. I find that it’s easier over texts as you can have enough time to collect your thoughts and word and reword things many times. Many SBs say they like doing it in person as they get to see how he reacts to their proposal and determine whether he’s salt, Splenda, or SUGAR!

Since you’re worried/ afraid, don’t worry it happens to the best of us. We don’t want to come across as “gold diggers” “unambitious” “stagnant whore” “money thirsty prostitute” [all labels I’ve come across bios on SA/ EM]. I try to discuss things a little bit ahead of time [before POT can start talking about sex]. I try to square away allowance talks early in the sugarship so I can put in efforts to charm/ reel the POT in without worrying about being low balled or taken advantage of. I start the allowance tango by saying something along these lines:

Me: So, I’ve seen that you’ve been on here for a while now? Have you enjoyed any fulfilling & beneficial arrangements during your time here?

Him: Y/N they were abc xyz

Me: That’s nice, I’m glad you’ve had such luck in a genuine arrangement. I’m glad that you’re experienced, and that assures me that you’re serious about starting a new arrangement. In your opinion, what’s an ideal arrangement that both of us will find fulfilling and beneficial?

Him: ideally I would want to see you xyz I would like to do abc then def then ghi then jkl.

Me: I’m so glad you know what you’re looking for. I’m looking to meet 3-4 x a month with my benefactor. I would like us to enjoy a fulfilling and beneficial relationship where we both spoil each other. Ideally, I’m interested in a monthly/ weekly/ p4p allowance around the range of 2K/3K/5K a month or 500/750/1K p4p. I do have some financial obligations that I would like to take care of, and I would love for you to make an investment of your time and resources in my life. I promise that we’d both indulge in something fruitful and enable each other to be the best of our individual potentials. Let me know if this is something that interests you.

Him: blah blah blah low ball offer 500-1K less than your proposal

Me if I like him: Well, I believe that I can work with a 1.5K allowance, but I would have to meet 3x a month due to my work schedule/ school schedule. Is that alright, and I also like being spoiled with shopping dates, spa dates, and aesthetic dates as well. I hope this is alright with you?

Me if I do not like him: Well, I can honestly understand your obligations. Your proposal wouldn’t be sufficient to meet my monthly financial obligations, and I wish you nothing but the best in your search for an ideal sugar baby. Good luck.

I hope this helps you and other sugar sisters dipping their feet in the sugar bowl! May the sugar gods pour forth the sweetest sugar into your wallets!

xoxo JeSuisFaux xoxo

The Captain of the Guards

“The blood oranges are well past ripe,“ Prince Doran observed in a weary voice, when the captain rolled him onto the terrace. 

After that he did not speak again for hours.

Then, from the far side of the palace, the captain Areo Hotah heard the faint drumbeat of boots on marble.

Obara. He knew her stride; long-legged, hasty, angry. She had been heard to boast that she could master any horse in Dorne … and any man as well.  Areo Hotah blocked the way.

"My lady, no farther. The prince does not wish to be disturbed.”

“You are in my way, Hotah. Does he know that my father is dead?”

“He does. He had a bird.”

“Everywhere, women tear their hair and men cry out in rage. The same question is heard on every tongue—what will our prince do to avenge his murdered brother?”

"He does not wish to be disturbed,” Areo Hotah said again.

“Hotah,” said Obara Sand, “you will remove yourself from my path, else I shall take that longaxe and—”

“Captain,” came the command, from behind. “Let her pass. I will speak with her.” The prince’s voice was hoarse.

“My father has been murdered.”

“He was slain in single combat during a trial by battle. By law, that is no murder.”

“He was your brother. What do you mean to do about his death?”

“You would have me go to war?”

“You need not even leave your chair. Let me avenge my father. Let my sisters and me march to sack Oldtown”

“Obara, look at the children, if it please you.”

“It does not please me. I’d get more pleasure from driving my spear into Lord Tywin’s belly.”

"Look,” the prince repeated. “I command you.”

“Your father played that same game once. Quick as a water snake. I oft saw him topple boys much bigger than himself. He reminded me of that the day he left for King’s Landing. He swore that he would do it one more time, else I would never have let him go.”

“As if you could have stopped him. The Red Viper of Dorne went where he would.”

“I wish I had some word of comfort to—"

“Let me use the spear; I ask no more. You have slept too long already.”

Obara turned upon her heel and strode off as angrily as she had come.

A Feast for Crows Chapter 2 (The Captain of the Guards)

You Owe Me - Part 1

Originally posted by ackelsen-blog

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1,398

Summary: The reader has an interview with Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki. Having never seen Supernatural, the interview definitely does not go as planned. 

“Is your house on fire?”


“Is your freaking house on fire?!”

“Um, no. I need to…”

“Ok then I’m hanging up.” Click.

Is your coworker seriously serious right now? You grab your phone again while swearing under your breath. 

“Y/N, please don’t hang up again! I know you hate me cause I woke you up. But I need a huge favor and it’s time sensitive!” Kelly almost squeaks. 

Oh, this should be good.

“Ok I’m listening.” You sigh loudly. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you have an Undertale Amino account? Specifically one named Ally? If not, I found someone stealing your art.

No, I don’t. I’ll try to report them if you haven’t already :(

Have you seen Voltron? Iris is Keith and Lillium is Lance, I feel it in my soul.

That’d actually be pretty adorable!!! Lillium would be constantly trying to one up Iris and getting his attention haha. Begonia would probably be Shiro or Allura ^^

Iris:( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°) lillium:( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°) begonia:ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Close  Iris:( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°) lillium: ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ  begonia: ( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°)

i feel bad saying this bc i know you said you’ve already done your last broganes piece but i really miss your drawings of it. It reminded me of my sister and I too and I always looked forward to seeing them. I’m so sorry they became a hate symbol but for me it brought back so many good memories and i wish you’d draw them again but i understand you gotta do what you gotta do

I’ve been getting a heck ton of these messages and I’m hoenstly so glad that my broganes drawings impacted a lot of people positively, especially to those who have lost a loved sibling. Truth be told, I still enjoyed drawing them till the end but I didn’t want to have anymore hate (ie. ppl calling me racist and homophobic for some reason??) thrown my way anymore ^^ Thank you for understanding!

yo if you ever do critiques or something like that you should call yourself judge judy 

Omg… perfect

For Countdown to Countdown, has it already been released in full somewhere or is there some other media for it? I keep seeing all this fanart and other things for CTC that I haven’t even seen in the comic yet.

Nope! The other stuff you’re seeing are probably aus or other people’s predictions of what happens later ^^


Anonymous said:Being Dally’s younger sister but dating Sodapop would include? 😂xxxxx

A/N: Yes, of course! I love Dallas and Sodapop. I’m gonna make this more comical because I find that possibly if Dallas found out that his sister was dating Sodapop he’d be mad as hell, but he’s aware of how Sodapop is, so he won’t be so pissed off. But he’d still be pretty protective. haha ! 

Not my gif. Gif credit goes to the amazing creators!

Being Dallas Winston’s sister and dating Sodapop Curtis would include:

- Dallas clenching his jaw when he finds out, and practically flipping the hell out.

- “Dallas! Stop it!

- “I won’t hurt her, man. You know me.” Sodapop would say sincerely, his hands up in surrender.

- “(Y/N), stay the hell outta this! And you!” he’d point at Sodapop, pressing him to the wall by his shirt collar. “You watch yourself real well and don’t you dare hurt a single hair on her or I’ll go to jail, but not for no petty crime like assault. I’ll beat your ass to death. You hear me? You’ll be dead and I’ll be in jail for murder!” he growls menacingly in Sodapop’s face.

- Dallas always being on edge whenever he knows that you and Sodapop are together alone.

- “Hey, (Y/N)?

- “Oh my gosh, Dallas! Get out of here!

- “What’re y’all doin’?

- “Talkin! Now get out!

- You persistently slamming the door in Dally’s face.

- Sodapop helping you feel compassion for Dallas.

- “Listen, babe,” Sodapop would look into your eyes. “As much as it may bug the hell outta you, - and even myself-, at least Dal cares about ya! He don’t give a shit about anyone else apart from maybe Johnny. Don’t take that for granted. Dallas means well, okay? He just wants to keep you safe and I respect that.

- Dallas clearing his throat loudly whenever you and Soda get too close when he’s around.

- Dallas venting out to Johnny.

- “She’s my sister, Johnny. I just don’t like it, okay? Even if it is Soda. He’s a great guy but I feel like no guy deserves (Y/N). She’s all that I have left besides you.

- “I know, man, but you gotta let her do what she wants, I guess. As long as he doesn’t hurt her, then there’s no problem, right?

- “That’s the problem, man! Touching her in anyway is wrong. I don’t wanna have to hear about Sodapop talking sexually about my sister to his pals. It just ain’t right, Johnny-cake.

- “Man, I don’t know what to do about this. It’s Soda! He wouldn’t hurt (Y/N), let alone any other girl. He’s real kind to girls, okay? He’s gonna treat her real swell, Dal. Don’t worry.

- “I wish it were that easy man.” Dallas would shake his head.

- You get easily hurt whenever you hear or see Sodapop flirting with girls at his work.

- Dallas pinning Sodapop to the wall and giving him hell for hurting you.

- “What’d I do?

- “You’re lucky that you’re my buddy, Soda, but don’t play dumb with me. I’ve got the right mind to clock your skull so fast it’ll make your head explode! You flirt with any broad ever again I’ll kick your ass.

- “Dally! I didn’t mean it like that, okay?

- “Yeah, that’s what every guy says. You hurt her. You’re dead.

- Every time that you and Dallas are hanging with the gang, Dallas will lurch towards Sodapop and actually causing him to jump.

- “Relax, man, I’m just pullin’ you’re leg.” Dallas would laugh, patting Soda’s shoulder.

- “Haha, yeah…

- Dallas being your shoulder to cry on if you and Soda get into a fight.

- Dallas realising when you vent to him that Soda’s your life and joy and he makes you really happy.

- “You find, (Y/N) right now and make up.

- “What? I thought you didn’t want me being with her?

- “I don’t care about what I want, man! She needs you.

- “What? What happened?

- “I’m shit at these things. I don’t know what to do for her or what to say to her. Go make up okay? You make her real happy and I don’t know man. This shit is too complicated for me. I don’t get girls, but you do. So talk to her for the love of God!

- Dallas looking out for you, but learning to respect when to back off with Sodapop.

- “I’m glad you’re with my sister, man.”

- “I’m glad to be with her too, she sure makes me happy.

- “Just don’t spill the beans on what you two do in the bedroom. I don’t need that image of my sister.

- You and Soda always sneaking out to get alone time.

- Sodapop laughing when you tell Dallas off, because you’re a Winston you’re tough as hell, and you and Dallas are like fire and fire, you only make a bigger fire.

- Punching Dallas in the jaw for hurting Sodapop.

- “What the hell was that for?” Dallas would shoot up, getting in your face, pressing his nose against yours.

- “You gang up on him or hurt him in anyway and I’ll end you!

- “You can try.” Dallas sneers.

- “You wanna go? Let’s rumble!” you’d shout in his face before the two of you would errupt into laughter.

- Always getting into fights with Dallas over Sodapop.

- “Can you just shut up,  Dal?” you’d yell.

- “Watch your mouth when talkin’ to me!

- “I don’t care if you’re not okay with me dating Soda or not. It’s not your place to say shit.

- “You’re lucky you’re my sister because I’d say some things that would make you crawl under the floor boards and die.” he growls, clearly holding back.

- Always making up with your brother Dallas.

- “Dal?

- “What?” he’d spit viscously.

- “I’m real sorry for sayin’ all that stuff…

- “Yeah well whatever.

“Look, Dal. We’re all that we have left. Mom ain’t here and dad don’t care if we’re dead in a ditch. Other than Johnny you’ve got no one but me. So you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not. Deal with it.”

- “You’re okay kid.” Dallas would smirk, letting you know that things are alright between you two.

- Dallas giving Soda a lecture every time he’s about to take you out on a date.

- Dallas making Soda’s life and your life a living hell until you tell him to knock it off.

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