in search for swell

anonymous asked:

Can you pretty pretty please do a thing where during mission the team gets separated, and Lance encounters pretty much full force Galra on his own and *wins* but is severely injured? And then the team, realizing something is wrong when Lance won't answer them, find him almost dead and have to heal him? If nah it's chill but you have the best writing and I love your blog!

Ficlet time!

Guns are useless when you are surrounded by countless enemies wielding various form of weapons: guns, hammers, blades, etc. Lance figures this out very quickly when he’s cornered by twelve Galra soldiers with no other paladin in sight. 

For each shot of his bayard, he gets hit. Hard. He’s been stabbed numerous times, whacked with a hammer that he knows is breaking bones and leaving bruises, and shot twice. One bullet pierced a little too close to his heart, and that’s what it took to get his mind kicked into gear. 

As if seeing red, he snaps. He grinds his teeth together to bite back the pain clinging to every inch of his body, and he starts firing. Each shot leaves his ears ringing, but the Galra are dropping like flies around him. 

When the last one falls, his collapses to his knees. Blood is all but pouring from multiple wounds, and his vision is growing dark. He can faintly hear shouting from the comms before everything goes black. 

*****

“He’s not answering.” 

“I’m worried.” 

Shiro stares at the other three with furrowed brows. When they all managed to find each other and realized that Lance was missing, they spent the better half of ten minutes calling out to the brunet over the comms, but they were met with soft static. 

“Let’s go find him,” Shiro commands, eyes narrow and determined. “Keep your guard up. There could still be Galra.” 

The four creep quietly throughout the hallways of the Galra base. The silence is unsettling, and it’s leaving the four paladins on edge. Shiro’s in the lead, and with each turn of a corner, he grows more concerned. The worry has twisted into a pit within his stomach, but he keeps pressing forward. He’s going to find Lance, and Lance is going to be just fine. He repeats that over and over in his head as he leads the other three in their almost desperate search. 

When they begin stumbling upon Galra bodies, Shiro’s chest swells with pride. Each corpse is sporting a large, gun wound that had to have been done by Lance’s bayard, but when they keep spotting more and more, the pride morphs into concern. There are far too many Galra soldiers for one paladin, and when he turns another corner and spots Lance’s lifeless body crumpled against the floor, his breath catches in his throat. 

While Shiro’s frozen on spot, Hunk and Keith shove past the older paladin to get to Lance while Pidge grips tightly at Shiro’s arm as tears slip down her cheeks. 

Keith immediately checks for a pulse while Hunk winces at the various wounds littering Lance’s body. 

“He’s still alive,” Keith calls out, voice shaking, and that’s all it takes to have Shiro and Pidge closing the distance and dropping to their knees beside the others. 

The pulse thumping against Keith’s fingers is weak, and the skin is cold to the touch. Lance didn’t have much time; this much Keith knew. “We have to get him into a pod. Now.” His voice is sharp, demanding, but the underlining concern and fear are evident. 

“I don’t even understand how he’s alive,” Hunk whispers as his hand ghosts above a nasty gun shot wound on Lance’s chest. He knows he should feel hopeful that Lance is still alive and defying all odds, but he’s so desperately afraid for his very best friend. 

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Shiro says, voice surprisingly calm despite his racing heart. “We need to get him out of here.” He barks out a few orders, and seconds later, Pidge and Keith are racing back to their lions while Hunk stands guard beside Shiro, while the latter carefully lifts Lance into his arms. 

Running isn’t ideal considering Lance’s condition, but Shiro risks it. He and Hunk fall into a steady jog toward the exit. They are working with only minutes, and the faster they get Lance to a pod, the better. 

*****

Pods don’t heal memories, and when Lance stumbles out after days in one, his first reaction is to fight. He throws a slopping punch toward the closest person, but tight fingers latch onto his wrist. 

“Woah, Lance! Easy! It’s just us!” 

The voice is familiar, but all Lance can see is a large Galra soldier glaring down at him. Panic courses through his body, but when he tries to pull a way, he stumbles into someone else. 

“Pull yourself together!” 

Keith. Lance snaps his gaze to the left, and after blinking a few times, Keith’s worried face comes into focus. Slowly, he turns his eyes back to the front to see Shiro holding his wrist with Hunk, Pidge, Coran, and Allura hovering behind the older paladin. 

“You with us?” Shiro asks, and Lance offers a small, apologetic nod as Shiro releases his wrist. 

Lance wraps his arms around himself and drops his gaze to the ground. “There were so many,” he whispers, shivering slightly. “I thought I was still there for a moment.” 

“You’re safe now.” 

Lance looks up toward Hunk, and he can’t help the grin that plays at the corners of his lips when he’s met with Hunk’s beaming smile. 

Shiro drapes an arm across Lance’s shoulder when he notices the brunet swaying slightly. “You did well, Lance.” 

Despite the dull ache clinging to Lance’s body paired with hot flashes of weapons and guns aimed at him crossing his mind, Lance feels happy, proud even, and thankful, and he leans into Shiro’s steady, grounded warmth while the others fill him in on what happened. 

but i’ll never give up you

requested by anonymous

au in which someone is rude to isak and even gets protective 

tw for homophobia


Sometimes, Isak is able to forget that there are people who hate him simply for loving Even. Not because of who Even is, or because of anything he’s done, but because Even is a boy. Sometimes, he’s able to forget that there are people who want him gone because of it.

But there are always reminders. It’s the world he lives in, and while he might be able to forget once in a while, there is always something-or someone-to bring him back to reality.

He’s standing in the cereal aisle at the store, trying to decide between cereal as Even scans the list behind him, leaning into the cart. Even is likely not reading the list at all, and actually considering riding the cart down the aisle, something he’s almost gotten them banned from them from the store from doing before.

Isak grabs a box and sets it in the cart, bumping Even’s hip with his to nudge him out of the way so that he can grab onto the cart handles.

“What are we missing?” He asks, peering around Even to look at the messily scrawled list.

“Lunch meat and bread. But I was thinking…”

Isak narrows his eyes, looking up at his boyfriend who has a sly smile, lip pulled between his teeth.

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anonymous asked:

ooh do number 18

18. “I shouldn’t be in love with you.”


He watched helplessly as she paced back and forth across the room. “I really think you should calm down.”

She whipped her head towards him. “Calm down? Calm Down?! I think you should calm up! How could you just say something like that and expect me to be calm?”

He sighed heavily clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, slightly irritated. “I mean, I knew there would be some sort of outlandish reaction, but I didn’t think you would freak out like this.”

“Well, excuse me, Harold, but you can’t just tell me,” she looked around and dropped her voice an octave as if someone were near them, “you love me and expect me to act like it’s no big deal!”

He shook his head. “I don’t expect you to act like it’s no big deal, but if you could stop acting as if I told you I was going to launch missiles at North Korea that’d be great.”

She took a few deep breaths and sat on the couch to gather her thoughts. “You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry. But, just… how… did this… happen?”

Have you met you?“ 

"I don’t like people, Harry, of course I’ve met me. I spend more time with me than anyone.”

He sat down beside her, sure not to crowd her space, as he was questioning her sanity. “The first time I realised I liked you was when we were playing checkers and you were losing and you flipped over the board before I could jump you again.”

She crinkled her nose at him and let out a short laugh. “Ew, why?”

He huffed. “I don’t know it was really cute and funny and you just pretended like the whole game never happened. And, it was just… I don’t know, I saw you in a different light like I wanted to have game nights like that all the time.” His eyes shifted around the room, nerves radiating off of him. “The first time I realised I loved you was when my album dropped, and you sent me your reaction to every song via text and there were voice notes and videos. I still have them saved in my phone. I just remember going through them all the next morning before I went to interview with Grimmy and thinking ‘wow, I love her,’ and I meant it.”

Her jaw dropped. “Jesus, H. I just, uh, I need a moment. It’s a lot to take in.” Panic swelled within her and she stood in search of fresh air. 

But, before she could get farther than a stephe grabbed her hand. “Listen, I know I shouldn’t be in love with you, but I am. Please tell me what I can do to get you there.”

She sat back down, his hand still firmly clasped to hers. “Harry, I just don’t think I’m in the position to get involved with something of this… calibre, at the moment.”

His entire face dropped. They stared at each other in silence for a few beats then he cleared his throat. “Before you reject me completely, can I try something?” He scooted closer until he could make out the flecks of colour in her irises and placed one hand on her cheek and the other on the side of her neck. “Is this okay?”

Her breath hitched as she nodded. 

“Tell me if you feel anything. If you don’t, I’ll deal with all of this, but if you do, will you give me have a shot?" 

She felt lightheaded, throat dry as their breaths intermingled in the close proximity. "Yeah,” she croaked out. 

He slowly touched their lips together for a few moments. He pulled back just a couple inches and looked into her eyes. “Was that okay?" 

She pulled him back in and deepened the kiss. That was all the response he needed.

send me prompts

Yours, Unfaithfully [Chapter 3]

Originally posted by jacksonisjbssin

Chapter 3 of Yours, Unfaithfully

Chapter 1  Chapter 2

Series Genre: AU/Angst/Smut/Fluff


Jaebum grabbed the keys from your trembling hand, letting go of you as he let the both of you into your apartment.

You followed closely behind, hand firmly grasping his as he led you.

“Arms out,” he requested, helping you out of your gown.

He let the gorgeous material pool at your feet, lifting out of it and into his arms. He carried you, as he had done many a time to your bedroom, cradling you against his chest.

As you crossed the threshold of your door, he gently set you down, still keeping you in his grasp.

You returned his gesture, helping him out of his jacket and tie before unbuttoning his shirt and discarding of it on the floor. Next came his pants, then your bra, his briefs, your panties.

With each item of clothing shed, a kiss was given, a touch was exchanged, all without a word. You both understood what the other wanted in that moment and that was to feel loved, to be desired by each other.

There had been many times you and Jaebum admired each other’s naked forms in this bedroom. He had thrown you up against almost every surface in here, made you cry from absolute pleasure, heard you scream his name as he did the most sinful things that made you crave more. But tonight was different. Tonight was slower, softer. Tonight, he wanted to make love.

You found yourself face up on your mattress, legs wrapped around your lover’s waist as he soft lips trailed across your jawline and down your neck.

You whimpered each time they found purchase on your skin, loving the feel of being his.

He groaned as he pushed into you with ease. Your wet walls around him felt like heaven and he never wanted to retreat.

Soft pants and heavy breathing filled the room as he continually thrust into you, kissing you deeper each time his name escaped your lips.

Your hands clung to his perfectly defined back, egging him on as your nails dug into it, begging for your climax.

“I love you,” he groaned. The feeling of your wetness pulsating drove him right to the brink.

“I love you!” you moaned, letting the sweet euphoria he always delivered take hold of you.

Your vision went blurry as he continued his movements until the both of you had endured every possible second of sweet release.

He breathed deeply, trying to pull himself towards recovery as he slid out of you.

Resting on his back, he brought you to him, kissing you over and over until he was satisfied you knew just how special you were to him.

You clung desperately to him, never wanting to be without this. You needed him. You loved him. And he felt the same.

Minutes passed as the silence remained between you. Nothing else needed to be said and honestly, neither of you wanted to ruin the serenity you had built in your own little hideaway.

In here, the outside didn’t exist. It was just you and him.


You stirred awake, restless from the nightmares that plagued you throughout the night. In each of them, Jaebum slipped away from you just as you were about to reach him. The thought alone shook you to your core.

You turned, needing him to hold you and tell you that would never happen, somehow you two would find a way to be together. But when you did, you found the space beside you void of the man you loved. Where had he gone?

His clothes were nowhere to be found and his phone wasn’t on the nightstand where he usually left it.

You rolled out of bed, searching the rest of your apartment for him. Still nothing.

Your heart sank. It wasn’t like him to leave, especially not without kissing you goodbye first.

Your focus was quickly diverted as your phone dinged. Maybe it was him telling you he grabbed coffee or breakfast.

Sadly, you were mistaken and it was just your mother telling you she was having a dress delivered for your engagement lunch. You had 3 hours to get ready.

Engagement. The word still made you sick even today. The only person you wanted to ever be engaged to fell asleep as he held you close to him last night. He was your one and only.

You sighed, typing back a quick text of understanding as your fingers moved to find his contact.

“Where did you go, my love? I hate waking up without you,” you typed.


Your driver dropped you off promptly just minutes before the party and still you hadn’t heard from Jaebum. This really was out of the ordinary. The two of you talked constantly when you were apart.

You could only think the worst as your nightmares came swimming back. Is this what they meant?

You entered your parents home, wide-eyed as you looked at how quickly they threw together such an elaborate gathering.

The decorations were stunning as to be expected and the countless pictures of you and Jackson throughout the years displayed all around only made your heart swell with an indescribable emotion.

Your life was splayed out for all to see and there he was, each step of the way. The two of you seemed like a perfect match.

“Hello, gorgeous” you heard.

You swiftly turned towards the sound, smiling for his sake as you saw your betrothed, adorned in a handsome suit that complimented your dress.

“Hi Jacks. You look nice”.

He moved towards you, linking your arms as he led you towards the party.

“I see our mothers coordinated our outfits,” he chuckled.

“Did you expect anything less from them?”

He smiled and pinched your cheek. Your sassy quips always made him light up.

“She’s here! Welcome future Mrs. Wang!” your mother squealed.

Although the gathering was intimate, the 20 pairs of eyes on you felt like a million. Future Mrs. Wang, you shuddered at the phrase.

You wanted to look away, feeling completely exposed, afraid your iron-clad resolve not to cry would evaporate if they looked at you much longer but something grabbed your attention immediately.

There he was, staring right back at you, looking just as solemn as you felt.

“I’d like to have everyone’s attention… That is if you can manage to tear your eyes away from my truly radiant bride to be,” Jackson said, garnishing ‘aww’s’ and chuckles from the room.

Everyone except Jaebum.

“I’d like to thank you all for putting this together so quickly. I hope I can speak for Y/N and I both when I say how thankful we are for your love and support. All my life, this woman has been there, growing and learning with me. My only hope is that we continue to do that for the rest of our time here on this earth. I feel very fortunate to get to stand beside someone so special”.

Your eyes watered as Jackson squeezed your hand. The fact that he was perfect in just about every way imaginable only made this living hell all the worse. He only lacked one crucial component. And that was, he wasn’t Jaebum.

“I know last night was kind of a blur for me with all the excitement and when I got home, I thought, I know there’s something missing from this scenario. Something just didn’t seem right”.

He paused, pulling something from his pocket.

“Y/N, this has been passed along through the women in my family for generations. As my wife, it would give me no greater pleasure than to see it on your finger”.

You immediately started crying the moment he slipped that engagement ring on your finger. You knew it well. Mrs. Wang had worn it for as long as you could remember and now it was yours.

“I promise to keep you safe and do my best to always make you feel loved,” he smiled.

He pulled you in for a tight hug as your tears flowed, heart beat sporadically as you tried to stop it all from hurting so bad. He kissed your cheek, wiping away the tears as he turned to show you off to the room.

An applause broke out, your mothers hugging you both as they too cried. They must have thought you were just as happy as them. For them, and for Jackson, you were going to keep it together today, even if it killed you.

You shifted your swelling face to search for him once more, needing to find some sort of solace in this emptiness you felt, but just like this morning, he had disappeared.


_Bambola_

Bleeding

A hurt-comfort kirk/spock flash fanfic


While I’m getting my writing brain back into Colony War, here’s a hurt/comfort quickie to keep you company.


Bleeding
by Kara Storm

“Spock.”

Kirk’s voice has a breathiness that indicates high emotion, enough to restrict the diaphragm. His knees came down hard on the ground beside Spock. Hands take hold of Spock’s arms with no consideration for Vulcan sensibilities.

“Spock.” Even quieter. Even more poignant. Then with face turned away. “Bones!”

Spock’s consciousness rises up within his shattered body, manages to crack eyes open. He feels acutely responsible for Kirk’s distress, which is illogical. Kirk’s emotions should be solely his own responsibility. But Spock’s own response overwhelms logic in this, as does the vision of Kirk above him, posture captured mid-action.

Kirk searches Spock’s eyes and his face swells into a pained smile, eyes glowing with inner joy. “Hey.” Warmth floods from Kirk’s hands into Spock’s limbs, emotional warmth that is difficult to distinguish from thermal warmth. His shattered body becomes distant. A mix of relief, sympathetic pain, and hope wash through him, pushing mortal limitations aside.

Spock turns away from Kirk’s gaze of raw affection to recover his own mind. He wavers. His control has been weakened by emotion and he can no longer block the pain hammering within. He makes a noise he at first refuses to acknowledge, a moan of distress.

Kirk’s hands tighten, release. “Sorry, Spock.”

He has let Spock go, let him be himself again. Kirk’s body turns, knees grind on the dry soil. “Bones! Over here.”

A figure descends on the other side, equipment whirls over Spock’s chest, his abdomen.

“Bones?” Kirk, pained and impatient. Again Spock’s emotions try to rise to meet Kirk’s even though they are not touching. Spock knows the inner shape of Kirk’s pain just from his voice. His voice is a sculpture of what’s within.

“He’s bleeding internally.” McCoy slides equipment straps off his shoulders, begins unpacking in a meticulous hurry. He calls over an ensign, makes him give up his field coat. McCoy rolls this and puts it under Spock’s feet.

McCoy parts Spock’s uniform shirt with a laser and tosses the bloodied halves of it to the sides.

“Oh, Spock,” Kirk whispers.

Spock can’t lift his head to see himself. He can smell the stress of his body. He feels the liquids that  once seeped into his shirt and now bubble into the open air.

“I just have to seal off a few bleeders so we can get him back to the shuttle. Hold this.”

Kirk takes the instruments he is handed. A portable sterile light flicks on, is repositioned. It turns the Vulcan blood a brownish purple color, the torn tissue a faint blue.

McCoy’s protoplaser sizzles.

“Is he going to be all right?”

Kirk’s question is ignored. The equipment hums and whirls. Kirk hands over the laser scalpel when requested.

“Bones?” Kirk sounds like a man lost for weeks on a deserted world.

Spock fumbles over the ground with his fingers and find’s Kirk’s knee beside his hip, rests his hand on it.

“Rest Spock. Please,” Kirk says. Then a long pause. “But thanks.”

McCoy glances up at Kirk, fixes him with Southern doctor scrutiny, returns to cutting and sealing.

McCoy finishes up, covers the open wounds with dermaskin. “Pain must be making him too weak to be Vulcan.” He mutters. He puts things away. “Can you carry him? He seems to tolerate your touch, even hurt. He can’t handle much strain.”

Spock still listens even though he cannot hold his eyes open. He anticipates Kirk’s touch with a strange thrill that is wholly, shamefully illogical. Kirk’s hands slide behind his neck, down his back, under his knees, cradling in the point eight g gravity rather than hefting. They rise together. Spock’s feet dangle.

“I’m sorry, Spock.”

Spock wonders what the apology is for. He is periodically losing touch with his surroundings. Perhaps he moaned again and does not realize it. He deeply regrets if he did. He wants to reach out again, assuage Kirk’s pain, but cannot move his arms.

Spock’s head lolls onto Kirk’s chest, high on his breast, temple at his shoulder. Kirk is muscularly padded in a manner solely human. Spock finds this deeply intriguing in a way that does not conform with biological study.

Spock feels Kirk everywhere around him, physically and psychically. He is pulled closer, cradled. Spock’s will to stand apart slips away. His body no longer obeys him, and his mind seems intent upon joining. He settles into Kirk’s care, helplessly senses Kirk’s sympathetic pain balming old wounds and loneliness. Standing apart. Following his own way. Belonging. It has become hopelessly confused.

“We’re going to take care of you, Spock.” Kirk’s voice is soft, caressing.

Spock believes him utterly, gives himself over to his captain, and to unconsciousness.

Music Series: Body Say by Demi Lovato**(slight smut)

I first looked at this request last night before going to bed, after sifting through probably a dozen requests that were not working for me. Some good songs…some not so good (imo)…but none finding an imagine in my mind to latch on to (think I need a day here and there of only doing my choices, I miss it). When I read these lyrics, and listened to the song, my thought was, “I don’t love the song…like it, but don’t love it…but I like the idea behind the lyrics.” I love Demi, but I’ve struggled finding the right story.

This is what I came up with, and I hope you all approve. This is “Body Say” by Demi Lovato, which you can listen to HERE on Spotify. Thanks for the request!

Wishing you all a wonderful weekend! (Me, I’m driving two hours tomorrow to see #Dunkirk on #IMAX and I am beyond excited! Amazing story that I can’t wait to watch play out in front of me. It’s my dream to write movies like this!)

xo

Shelli

***************************

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You're perfect

hello! I was wondering if were doing Newt x reader for the otp dabble challenge? if so, I really like 35. could you maybe write something for it? :)

“Why’re you dressed like that?” - “Does that mean it looks good or should I change?”

Prompt from this list by the always inspiring @prompt-bank

Newt x reader

Master list

Originally posted by stallingdemons

 

 

Adding the finishing touches to your outfit, you fussed slightly in the mirror, fiddling with your tiepin. It was yours and newts anniversary, and you wanted to do something special, just for him, as he seldom spoiled himself it was down to you.

Satisfied you stepped out into the living room, only to find that newt wasn’t where you had left him, curled up in his squashy armchair reading a book. Furrowing your brow in confusion, you began the search for your husband.

Panic began to swell inside you as you checked each room, to no avail. You were now clambering back up the steps from his battered brown leather case, scenarios began to reel through your brain, each more ridiculous and heart wrenching than the last.

As you paced the living room rug, nibbling at your finger nails, the front door clicked shut. You rushed to the door, relief washed over you like a wave, Newt stood looking slightly confused, holding a bouquet of flowers, and wearing his smartest suit. ‘why are you dressed like that?’ he asked curiosity clear in his voice, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips. “does that mean it’s alright or should I get changed?’ you asked fiddling with the edge of your waistcoat, as you looked up at him.

He placed the flowers in the porcelain jug that sat on the little table by the door, “don’t you dare get changed, you’re perfect.’ His voice held a slightly husky tone, as he took your hand and spun you around so that he could see the full effect of your clothes. You giggled as he slowed your twirl down so that he could fully appreciate your backside in the form fitting trousers.

“what is all of this in aid of, love?’ still not letting go of your hand as he gestured to your outfit, that he was enjoying a little bit more than you had anticipated. “well, I wanted to take you on an expedition, and I can’t very do that in a ball gown now can I?’ you teased lightly.

He looked at you with such tenderness that you thought you might just melt, ‘I was going to take you out to dinner.’ Newt murmured softly as he tucked a loose tendril of hair behind your ear, leaning into his touch.

“well it is still early, we could do both.’ You suggested, his lopsided smile grew even further as he nodded.

Suddenly remembering the bouquet of flowers, he grabbed them from the jug, and handed them to you, along with a kiss to your forehead, before you pulled him down by his tie for a proper kiss.

‘I should get these into some water.’ You murmured as newt pressed his forehead to yours, while he hummed in agreement, not quite ready to leave this perfectly moment just yet.

 

Have a great day and be safe

@fiddlesticksimagines

2

Vitae & Mortem

Dystopian AU - Read the previous chapters

Part Nine

UNKNOWN TIME
The first thing I saw when my eyes opened was a body.
I jolted as upright as I could, noting instantly that I was restrained by shackles that kept me bound to the pipe where my back rested, but even though I knew I trapped I still tried to leap forward.
It was Harry.
Laying lifeless upon the floor, was Harry.

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Yours, Unfaithfully [Chapter 4]

Originally posted by got7-ijb-imjaebum

Chapter 4 of Yours, Unfaithfully

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3

Series Genre: AU/Angst/Fluff/Smut


“I promise to keep you safe and do my best to always make you feel loved,” he smiled.

He pulled you in for a tight hug as your tears flowed, heart beat sporadically as you tried to stop it all from hurting so bad. He kissed your cheek, wiping away the tears as he turned to show you off to the room.

An applause broke out, your mothers hugging you both as they too cried. They must have thought you were just as happy as them. For them, and for Jackson, you were going to keep it together today, even if it killed you.

You shifted your swelling face to search for him once more, needing to find some sort of solace in this emptiness you felt, but just like this morning, he had disappeared.


“Excuse me, I need to go clean up,” you smiled softly, letting go of Jackson’s hand.

“Hurry back, okay?”

You nodded and moved through your close family friends as you made your way to your old room. You needed a minute alone.

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Blue-Eyed Hero - Steve Rogers x Reader

Originally posted by captainamerica1-6

Request: 17crimesoflife: Hi guys! Could one of you write about the reader being caught in the middle of the Battle of New York and ends up being saved by Cap then once the battle is over, they try to find Cap to thank them in person?

AN:I would like to start this off my saying I’m sorry! Testing and life in general have been kicking my butt these past few weeks, so I haven’t been posting as much. I just want to say thank you to my reliable co-writer, Brie! She is the best, and is amazing for keeping the blog going while I was gone!

- Written by Kat - 


Chaos. No one saw this coming. It was just another day; how could you prepare for the sky to open up in the middle of New York, throwing everything the world thought it knew into the meat grinder? The age old question of whether or not we are alone in the universe was just answered, as well as confirming that that new found life also wanted to kill us.

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We Make the Kingdom - Pt.7

Image by silverdagger865

Pairing: Yongguk x OC
Genre: Fantasy, with Angst and Smut to come
Summary:  After a vampire attack leaves you almost dead, you are rescued by a group of werelions, powers long thought to be extinct. Upon discovering the same power flows in your blood, you join their fight against encroaching vampires and another, very human monster, to save the kingdom.
Previous parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ,  8, 9(M), 1011, 12, 13


With your mastering of shifting and subsequent additional training with Daehyun and Himchan, you forget all about returning to the village. Three more months pass, marked by three more visits from werebears. Each time, you scurry to hide the instant you hear or smell their approach and mask your scent with the horse blanket and Youngjae’s herb mixture. Every visit brings a different man, though each has the same look of trained composure and meets the same cool reception from the lions.

Long after the third bear, Minhyuk, rides out, and after it becomes too hot to work in the sun, you all walk back to the keep.

It’s then that you finally ask, “Why can we not trust the bears? If the king subjected them to the same brutalities as you and the wolves, should they not hate him as much?”

Daehyun scoffs. Dust covers his hair and clothes from helping you practice incapacitating foes as a lion. “They are directly under his thumb. They stay in safe in the palace as his bodyguards while we risk our hides. He bought their loyalty a long time ago with soft living. Anything we say or do will be whispered in his ear the same day.”

“I don’t care what they say. Yifan would never have been caught unless they told the king.” Youngjae tosses a dagger into one of the unused shed’s door with a grim expression. “They betrayed us.”

“The king can use their families against them more effectively,” Himchan points out, though it looks like speaking on their behalf pains him greatly. “We cannot say we would not do the same if our places were exchanged.”

“I almost wish a vampire would finish him for us,” Junhong mutters. “Then we could just take care of them without sneaking around and rule the kingdom ourselves. Yongguk would make a much better king.”

“Careful. You speak of treason,” Jongup jests, drawing a light chuckle among the men.

Treason it may be, but you must agree with Junhong. Many of your conversations with Yongguk come around to his dearest wish in life: to improve the lives of anyone and everyone within his vicinity. He was studying to be a lawyer to defend the common people before he was summoned by the king, he had told you. Passion saturates his voice when he speaks of different plans and laws he would implement if only he had the power. If Yongguk was king, you have no doubt the kingdom would only benefit.

“Speaking of Yongguk,” Youngjae says, turning to you as he recovers his dagger, “did you ever ask him about going back to your village?”

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Merrily

Rafael Barba x OC

How did you get there from here, what did you have to go through?

The month of September has always been delightfully peculiar.

Nights were often chilly from the broken promises of rainfall, but warmth lingered during the bright hours of the day. It was as though the summer season was moved by greed, trying her utmost to latch onto the months ahead that would never feel her embrace.

Ordinarily, Rafael Barba was a man who much preferred warm weather. He enjoyed basking in the sun, taking long walks in the park with an iced coffee in hand- a nice break from his daily scorching hot triple shot espresso routine.

Tonight he found himself appreciating something else entirely.

Not a single star could be seen, but that didn’t make it any less wondrous. He couldn’t quite place it, but perhaps t was the prolonged fascination of almost.

The grey clouds that decorated the black sky, looking almost like delicate wisps of smoke. The basswood trees that almost looked like they swayed in unison from the gentle tease of the wind. The sweet smelling air was accompanied by slightest twinge of salt, almost like the water was luring him to explore.

Almost. The word ran in his mind, over and over like a broken record.

When his solace began to irk him, he decided that he had no choice but to put an end to his little getaway. He wondered, for a quick moment, if anyone had noticed his disappearance. He turned abruptly to begin his walk back, following the growing noise, and kept his answer locked away at the back of his mind.


Taking careful steps along the hundreds, or rather thousands of pebbles that laid against the ground. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. Who decided that this was a good idea? Nevertheless, he prodded on until he reached the end where the white tent was located. He paused before going in, taking in the surprisingly harmonious mixture of band and chatter. Simply through the movement of their silhouettes, Rafael could feel the joy that radiating from the tent.

A joy that, despite his bewilderment, he genuinely shared.

Parting the white cloth with both his hands, he entered the lively reception for the second time that evening. He quickly scanned the crowd of familiar faces, only in search of one in particular.

When he found her, his heart swelled with pride. As expected, she was fully surrounded with people all trying to talk to her at once. She seemed overwhelmed, but revealed no sign whatsoever that it was bothering her in any way. Any attention that was being offered she reciprocated tenfold, and with a smile that instantly put all others to shame.

All of a sudden he felt like the luckiest man on earth.

He walked towards her, adamant on stealing her away for a moment, and would have continued had she not spotted him in the midst. Once she did she practically fled away, squeezing herself through the standing crowd. He watched her apologize profusely in order to get by, and when she was just two feet away, she extended her arms and leaped into his own.

He was definitely the luckiest man on earth.

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4


Words: 4,339
Sam x Reader
Warnings: frightening scenarios, disturbing imagery
Fic based on ‘Mess Is Mine’ by Vance Joy originally requested by anon!
A/N: MANY FEELS. WHAT. FEELS. WHAT?! WUT. wut. Thanks for your patience on this update! Hope it was worth the wait! I forsee a couple more parts most likely, before this series concludes.
This is part of a series! Read the other parts here! 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11


Your name: submit What is this?


”Oh my God! Y/N!” Sam rushed to where you were laying on the floor, cold and dirty. Your clothes and hair were damp from the wet concrete. Bruises and dried blood glared out from your pale face. “You’re alright! It’s okay now,” he said. He pulled you against him and you dug your fingers into his shirt, clutching to the only part of him you could easily hold onto as weak as you were. “I’ve got you. It’s okay… You’re okay now…” His voice sounded like it might break.

You looked up into his earnest face and saw that there were tears shining in his eyes. “Sam…” Your voice was raspy. And you were so thirsty. So thirsty and so tired. And cold.

”It’s alright now, Y/N. I’ve got you. I’m taking you home. Everything is fine,” he said, rushing to undo the chains on your wrists and ankles. “Don’t worry. You’re going to be okay and we—we’re together now.” He hugged you tighter against him and you broke down, crying into his chest and still clinging to his shirt.

Just as you were about to say his name again there was a loud metallic bang and you startled.

Awake. Now you were awake.

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On the third day of #PAIN fic...

12 Days | Masterlist

A/N: Hey, look at that! YOU MADE IT TO DAY THREE, FRIENDS! We’ve gotta say, we’re having a blast releasing these shorter parts every day and we’re so glad that we get to share some of the less relevant (but still some of our favorite) bits of this universe with you. THANK YOU FOR LETTING US DO THIS IT SURE DOES MEAN A LOT TO BOTH OF US. 

We also went on an ask-answering spree last night… so we’re sorry for anyone that had post notifications on for us… BUT WE ALSO KNOCKED OUT A WHOLE MOUNTAIN OF ASKS (we told you we’d get to it eventually)

*drumroll* Team GTNW welcomes you to DAY THREE!

Word Count: 1,933


You felt disgusting.

With the summer heatwave in full swing and the sun beating down on your shoulders, you couldn’t help but be a little bit miserable. You had tied your hair up on top of your head with sweaty tendrils framing your face and wore the thinnest sundress that you owned, but despite all of your efforts to remain as cool as possible, there just seemed to be no hope.

“Listen, I know you hate it when I’m dramatic but I might just melt right here on the sidewalk,” Lin groaned. You were both trudging through the streets of Washington Heights, sweating like pigs and desperately trying not to think about how nice rain would feel right about now.

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title: in this quiet moment

rating: K

note: ONE OF THE MANY LITTLE THINGS I COULDN’T HELP BUT TO WRITE. SASUSAKU TALKING ABOUT THEIR LITTLE DAUGHTER AND CAKSHKHGLKH THEIR FAMILY I JUST HAVE SO MANY FEELS. MY OTP IS CANON I JUST

IT’S FUCKING CANON.

~

“How was your trip?”

Sasuke turns at the sound of her voice, blinking in surprise, before his eyes soften as he acknowledges his wife’s presence. She tries not to smile too wide when he pushes himself off the doorframe and joins her side, his one hand finding her waist while his lips find her temple.

“Not bad,” he murmurs, winding his arm around her back. He turns to look at their daughter training in their backyard, features soft and completely at peace. “A little long.”

She doesn’t try to hold back the strength of her smile, this time, because although quiet and reserved, her husband can be quite the emotional sap in his own way. He’s happy, she thinks, feeling herself glow with pride and love, and everything that is good. Pulling away from him, Sakura seeks his hand and slips her fingers through his, squeezing tightly.

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Silently slithering

So there is a snake

Silently slithering

Across sun and stars,

Swallowing centuries

Since the stellar smiles;

Some say someone

Or something sentient

Sent said serpent

So as to seek something.

It started small and sickly,

Somewhere silent and somber,

Feasting on sadness, sorrow,

Sincerely pursuing,

Selfishly consuming

Lost souls and spirits,

Subsequently swelling,

Such as someday

Sooner than expected,

Searching for something else,

Somehow seeing the sea

Should sooth the soul of the beast.

Surely this shall be so and save us.

rockindragonz  asked:

So i tag you in a metric butt ton of posts, all just memes and OW related shit, but I was wondering if it bothers you when people just casually @ you in a post? Idk I wanted to know before i continue doing it :p

Nah I actually enjoy getting tagged in stuff

now what would be cool if tumblr wouldn’t be a piece or shit and let me look at the post properly instead on having to go to your blog and search for them that’d be swell!

I challenged myself to write this in under 300 words. I’m at 297. That alone gets me hot. - Kitty

You cannot take your eyes off him.

The grand hall is overflowing with wedding guests, roasted meats, loaves of bread, and vessels of various libations on every table. Thorin stands across the room talking with friends, but he feels your attention on him, and returns the stare.

Heat bursts through your skin. You remind yourself to keep your composure, at least until later, when you are finally alone with him. You smile at the thought, then force yourself to briefly look away, to embrace relatives who have come to celebrate this glorious day.

When you look again, he’s not there. You lose him in the sea of faces.

Suddenly, you feel his massive hand tickle the small of your back. His lips are against your hair, his breath warm on your ear. His long locks fall on your shoulder.

You’re about to turn around, to beg him to take you out of here. Now.

But you don’t get the chance. Your drunken aunt scoops you happily into her robust arms – again – wishing you a happy life and many babies.

Others follow, offering blessings.

He is gone.

You search wildly for him. The music swells.

The room begins to pulse with lively dancing and singing. You are swept into a dizzying circle of toe-tapping, thigh-slapping and arm-linking.  

That’s when you find him.

He is across from you in the circle, laughing, clapping, awkwardly moving to the music. You’ve never seen him so happy, so carefree.

He sees you. You both keep dancing, but your gazes are locked. You undress each other, lick, suck and taste each other, thrust, squeeze, and ride.

In this crowded room of happy music, flowing wine and good cheer, it is just the two of you, king and queen, on your wedding night.

funblade  asked:

Oh, I wasn't asking for big wedding ceremony, just asking how Ruby would ask Weiss or vice versa. Umm... if not that then, Yang/Blake being best aunts/moms to the family?

“That was an amazing party,” Ruby said, flopping down onto Weiss’ desk chair and kicking up her feet. Thankfully they didn’t land on any important documents, but Weiss was too tired to check. They had swung by her office quickly after the ceremony— the Bumblewedding, as Yang insisted on calling it— to grab the spare keys to the house. Ruby had lost hers, somehow, amid the festivities.

“Mm,” she agreed, still searching.

Swelling with pride, Ruby let her head loll back, still obviously very tipsy. “Ours is gonna have to be. So much better. Can’t let sis show me up. When we get married it’s gonna be so great, Weiss.”

Weiss paused. Then she continued sifting through filing cabinets— why had she insisted on hiding them so well? “Well, if we get married,” she said, cautious as ever.

Sitting up straight at that, Ruby looked positively wounded. “What? What do you mean if? We’re getting married, eventually, right?”

Wow. Were they really having this conversation? Laughing helplessly, a bright gleam caught her eye. The keys! She grabbed them in triumph. “Ruby, you can’t just assume— I mean of course I thought about it—  but you have to talk about—” she turned to face her, squinting suspiciously. “Have you really just been running under the assumption we’re just going to spontaneously get married one day?!”

“Wait,” Ruby said. “Does that mean you… don’t… want to marry me?” she asked, her voice getting smaller and smaller, her lone eye shining with pain.

Of course I do, you idiot!”

And that was how that happened.