in the arms of my enemy

Further tales from my brother’s DnD adventures: one of his friends had a character that was two gnomes in a trench coat. Even the DM didn’t know (despite the player’s comment that his character had abnormally short arms, and his penchant for asking WHERE enemies had landed a hit) until one of them died.

The Time I Took On the Military (And Won)

Considering the staggering amount of votes this one got, here you go!

ok so it’s my sweet sixteen and i took two of my closest friends paintballing. We started off alone with just the three of us. Me and this girl formed a truce so we could take out her brother. He found a building with a roof to shoot from so i was criss crossing and sliding behind shelters.

Long story short with this guy i snuck up behind his building and shot him point blank in the ass while he was climbing a ladder.

Except now his sister is my enemy and a much larger threat.

I criss cross my way back narrowly avoiding being shot. I skid to a stop behind this bush with a really gappy fence and go GOOD ENOUGH BRING IT ON and poke my muzzle through. I cant particularly see but I remembered seeing her in a little chapel window. I aim that general direction and open fire. I immediately hear HIT. When she comes out i see where i hit her. Right between the eyes like I couldnt do that again if I tried. Ill take it.

We’re back at the base ops and these massive dudes come over like “yo wanna join us we need more players” and we’re like “oh ya bud the more the merrier” so we go over and everyone is freaking massive and there’s us three tiny lil teenagers. I over hear they’re a military team and just sigh because i know im dead this is just my luck

Apparently they wanted us so that they could simulate having civilian to protect, who were also armed. (They did a piss poor job of this seriously wtf)

So the game starts and im seperated from my friends. They’re on the opposite team.

Im sticking near the leader and just generally trying not to die. He’s giving me orders as softly and nicely as he can, thinking Im scared. I mean really who wouldnt be?

I wasnt. I was ready to kick butt. When I am silent, be afraid, im planning something.

Next thing i know he’s gone. Shot, running, hiding i dont know and i dont care i gotta move there are way too many heavily armed men in these woods for me to be comfortable

Im trekking through this woodsy area keeping as low as possible because the other team has a freaking sniper and im not dealing with that no thanks im just a tiny teenager leave me alone ok

Im doing my thing and trying to find people to shoot because everyone is mia when i see people ahead.

Not my people.

And they havent seen me yet. Im looking around looking for some decent cover or somewhere to take them by surprise and there is nothing. The entire area is just thistle bushes with massive thorns. And then my idea hits. A wicked, mischievous idea. I grin behind my mask and get ready to lay my trap.

I plop myself down right in the middle of these thistles and army crawl to the path their taking and just lay still.

These guys dont see me.

They’re not expecting someone to be in these bushes cause who is that dumb.

The one dudes boot is an inch from my hand and i spring up and yell SURPRISE before shooting him right in the chest and then the two behind him. Three down, way too many to go. I ran away cackling like a witch

Dont die dont die dont die

I head out again and meet up with some more of my group. They stick me at the back to keep me out of harms way. A valiant, if ineffective effort

Enter enemy attack.

We get split up into two groups to flank them and i end up alone again. I moving slowly, spinning in a slow circled because I am EFFED

I’m a tiny lil sixteen year old girl, all alone, with about 15 guns pointed at me. I was completely surrounded. My comrades who had fled to live and fight another day are now making haste towards me like WHO LEFT THE KID BEHIND HELP HER and im like

hell no i got this

I went absolutely ape shit on their asses.

Shots are flying around me like crazy and everyone is screaming. One of the enemies shouts FALL BACK WHAT THE FU–

I hear one if my partners like HOLY SHIT SHE’S ALIVE

I barrel over one of the attackers and side arm his gun away. I break out from the Circle of Doom and make a mad dash for cover.

I leap into the air and spin to fave them. Im not getting shot in the back I an a WARRIOR

I just start spraying with a battle cry to rattle the heavens

I smack back down to earth and land in a crouch

Every single one of the attackers were shot, usually multiple times, and i didnt get shot once. Frankly no clue how i managed but I am NOT questioning it. Luck or skill I dont care

Eventually it was down to two people. Me and the other teams captain.

He’s a big, scary dude. He had a custom gun that could pop off a frankly alarming amount of shots per second.

The odds arent exactly in my favour.

We find each other right in the middle with trenches and tiny little metal fences for cover. Im walking through like plz dont shoot me i am small be nice

The dude pops up from a trench and starts firing. No mercy here.

Fine then.

I duck behind a fence and it is the most pathetic thing i have ever seen.

I have barely enough room to crouch behind it because it’s so small. The other dude finds a nice big trench and big fence the lucky lil jerk.

So we’re poppin up like weasels trying to get a shot in. I cant hit him, he cant hit me. Up and down and up and down. My fence angles down ever so slightly so im tucked in as tightly as I could. My fence is rattling as shot after shot after shot hits. The shots stop, i poke my muzzle over the edge amd lay down some fire.

And the cycle repeats

I get tired of this little exchange so the next time he goes down i lay on some cover fire and sprint like hell for a near by trench like i am just bookin it thinking dont shoot me dont shoot me imma kill you

i slide in and pop up just as he rises to take a shot. Except im not where he thought id be.

I shot him right in the side of his bald lil head.

So i won. My team legit carried me on their shoulders back to base ops

And that’s the time I, a sixteen year old girl, beat a team of militarily trained behemoths

It’s a [Tinder] Date! (Part 1/3)

Summary: Thinking he needs to find a date, Natasha signs Steve up to Tinder. In Queens, Peter Parker does the same to you. It’s a match! 

Word Count: 1,723

A/N: This is already planned out and written (in my head). I loved writing this.

Originally posted by imaginingbucky


Nat raised a brow, a mysterious curve to her smile. Steve was immediately suspicious. He felt his shoulders stiffen and his back straighten. He knew he looked like he had a stick up his ass, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when Natasha looked like the cat that had eaten the canary, and wanted to get caught.

“You left your phone on the coffee table,” she said. Her tone was relaxed, which made Steve more nervous.

His eyes narrowed. “What did you do, Romanoff?” he questioned, broad arms crossing over an equally-broad chest.

She merely shrugged before she turned her right-hand palm-up and relaxing it. Steve’s phone was revealed. “See for yourself.”

Keep reading

So like, imagine an AU where Trevelyan, Lavellan, Adaar and Cadash never actually made it to the Conclave. They all got spectacularly waylaid – by each other – on the way there and ended up forming a clump of grumpy, teeth-gritted comradeship to survive the rather hostile road there because idk about you, but a Dalish elf, a Tal-Vashoth Qunari, a Carta dwarf and the 39th son of the 40th cousin twice removed from the royal family of the Free Marches would make the most fantastic, oddball adventuring party ever.

And it’s just like…yeah, I literally dreamed this last night so here, have some potential dialogue lines.

-

Adaar, very clearly a virgin: Oh yeah, I’ve had sex. I’ve had all the sex.
Cadash: Pffft. The only thing you’ve been bangin’ are the pots and pans–
Lavellan: Keep your dick away from our cooking utensils or so help me.

-

Trevelyan: Nobody here appreciates fine dining like I do.
Cadash: Yeah well, shit’s an acquired taste, as you would know.

-

Cadash: Just a quick question. Where did you get your admirable sense of humor from? The spite is just…riveting.
Lavellan: It is homegrown on a history of slaughter and slavery from the shem. I’m glad you liked it.
Trevelyan: Of course the dwarf would.
Lavellan: The dwarf has good tastes.

-

Adaar: How did your thought process go from ‘oh god what a huge demon on fire’ to ‘I’m going to whack it with my sword and hope that it dies’?
Trevelyan: Look, mate. My enemies were on fire once and they died when I whacked them hard enough too.
Cadash: It’s too bad he’s a human. He would’ve made the perfect kind of Carta.
Lavellan: Yes, the odor is identical to yours.
(pause)
Adaar: You marked him?
Trevelyan: WHAT?! MARK ME WITH WHAT– OH MAKER–
Cadash: I rubbed my dwarfy little hands all over him while he slept, yup.
Lavellan: Creators, cleanse me from the evils my ears have borne audience to.

-

Cadash: Is it true Templars would sell an arm and a leg for a mouthful of lyrium?
Lavellan: I can’t believe I’m saying this, but that’s rude.
Trevelyan: It certainly is! And it’s more accurate that they would sell their mothers, anyway.
Adaar: Andraste burning on the stakes wasn’t enough to clean you of your sins, I see.

-

Lavellan: You have no discomfort, traveling alongside a Dalish mage?
Trevelyan: Nope. I was born uncomfortable, anyway.

-

Cadash: Hey, we can lure [the bandits] down this tunnel.
Adaar: So all of us except for you can get stuck down there?
Cadash: Oh ye of little faith!
Trevelyan: Even if the Maker descended right now, haloed in everlasting lights with Andraste by His side and tell me to trust you, I wouldn’t do it.

2

Push My Buttons

harry/louis, enemies to lovers, 1.7k

“Fuck off.” Louis leans into this boy’s personal space just to show how unaffected he is, even if it is technically a bluff. “My team’s winning.”

The boy crowds right back into him with a smug look, and that turns out to be their downfall—a large man to his left nudges his arm and gestures to the jumbotron, where Louis and fucking Newsboy are currently encased in a cartoon heart with the words KISS CAM burning brightly above them.

based on this text post

Punk (Chap. 11)

Originally posted by coporolight

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: ~2500

Warnings: Language, mission/war related violence and gore, shooting, battle related injuries/casualties/mayhem

A/N:  My sincere apologies for how long this has taken.  I’ve been dealing with some personal things and, quite frankly, it took away all desire to write.  I hope you like this chapter, the photo with the shield later on in the story is actually the inspiration for the entire series.  So you can get inspiration from anywhere :)  I want to thank everyone who stuck around waiting and who has been so helpful and kind to me.  Also, I’m very excited to continue writing more chapters!  Thank you for your continued patience.

As always, feedback is always appreciated.  Please let me know how the ‘action’ plays out as I am always looking for ways to improve my storytelling.  Thanks!



Your face fell in horror, but you seemed to be the only one moving, the rest of the world seemed to be stuck in some sort of time lapse.  Bucky was still just crouching there, holding the boy, with that stupid, beautiful smile still plastered to his face, not yet seeing the danger, not yet registering your alarm.

No no no no no no NO!  Your mind was screaming the words as you tore your gaze away from the scene.  The man was getting closer.  NO!

You bolted forward, shoving the woman into the alley screaming for Bucky to run, ripping your vocal chords in the process. Your legs felt like they were trudging through molasses, like some force was pulling you back, weighing you down. And each step on the pavement felt like an elephant stomp making the ground shake.  But it was as if you weren’t moving any closer.  But you had to.  You had to.   Because what was about to happen could. not. happen.

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Crush

Summary: Everything about Bucky Barnes drives you wild…that’s basically the plot…

Warnings: smut, sexual tension

A/N: I spent today writing my own mini thesaurus, by hand, and I came up with this idea during my breaks.


“Fuck!” Your back slammed down against the thick mat, air shoot out of your lungs.

“If you’re not paying close attention to your enemies you’re going to get yourself killed. What the hell has you so distracted?” Steve stretched a hand out, helping you up.

“N-Nothing.” You huffed, avoiding eye contact with the super soldier in front of you.

That was a lie, a big fat lie. You were completely distracted by the man across the room, the one with the glistening metal arm and the chocolate brown hair. Motherfucking Bucky Barnes. 

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anonymous asked:

Bucky, I totally get the no hugging thing. Getting hugged makes me want to punch the hugger (most of the time; it's complicated; fucking sensory processing issues). People seem to figure out pretty fast that you don't do hugs. How would you recommend telegraphing an aversion to hugs, extended handshakes, arm pats, back pats, etc. to those around you, especially those who don't know you that well, for someone small, female, and (apparently) cute?

have you ever tried to pet a cat that didnt want to be petted? you have your hand directly over their spine, and as you lower it they just turn into a liquid and slide away, and you wind up petting the floor where they were. learn from the cats. 

to begin with, stand just outside easy arm’s reach with new people. it will make you seem a bit standoffish but will also make it take an awkward amount of effort to pat your shoulder or grab your arm. you can compensate for the physical distance by being actively engaged in the conversation, which i rarely bother with.  in social situations, find things to hold: a drink of some kind, your phone or wallet in the other hand, which means you dont have any hands free for hugs or handshakes. make the ‘sorry, cant, my hands are full’ shrug and smile when necessary. (or, if you are me, stare people dead in the eyes and scowl. that’s pretty effective.)  wear layers; distance the touch from your skin. with handshakes, having a limp grip is your enemy; instead, do a simple firm clasp and then release. usually people will get a ‘handshake over’ vibe easily after a you loosen, but if you’re limp-gripped the whole time, there’s no end signal.  and most people will get it–girls especially–if you just tell them youre not a big toucher. if youre down to give a white lie or two, say you’re getting over a cold and dont want to spread germs. 

when someone goes for a hug, close your body language; shoulders drawn up and head tilted down, hands close in towards center mass and elbows out, widening and sharpening your profile. this is the ‘im solid and pointy, dont grab me’ shape. add in widened eyes and a bit of a lean backwards and most people will get the idea that you do not want to be grabbed. feel free to say ‘sorry, not a hugger,’ if necessary, and possibly offer an alternative that you’re more comfortable with. people usually respond well to humorously-delivered overly-serious options like, ‘can we exchange Dignified Buisnessman Nods instead?’ or ‘the high-five of the emotionally stunted?’ this is a clint technique, and he rocks it when hes not feeling like being handsy with people. i just stick with my usual scowl and glare. as long as you make it clear that you dont dislike them, and arent trying to snub them, people tend to roll with alternative options. 

if theyre not okay with it or dont get the hint, find other people to hang out with. 

Two can play at this game

April Fools’ Day… the Snowbaz possibilities are endless. Also: @snowbaz-feda looks great and everyone should go check it out


March 31.

BAZ:

‘What did you do to him?’

Snow’s girlfriend has followed me out of the dining hall, her hands on her hips and her pretty eyes glaring.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I say, arching one eyebrow, and it’s true; I have no fucking clue what she’s on about, except that it’s about Snow. Everything is about Snow.

‘So this isn’t your doing?’ Her eyes are still squinted suspiciously.

‘Sadly, I can’t take credit for whatever has befallen Snow, but I’d love to hear about it.’ I pretend that I’m not worried. I tell myself that I’m glad if he’s hurt.

She huffs. ‘Just stay away from him, Baz.’

‘That’s going to be difficult, given that we share a room,’ I drawl. I suppose it’s no use telling her that I can never get far enough away from him. (I can never get close enough, either.)

‘I’m serious. I know you’re enemies and all, but that’s just politics. If you break his heart I swear Penelope will curse you so hard you’ll still be screaming from across the Veil. Hell, I’ll even do it myself.’ She’s practically spitting fire at this point.

‘Wellbelove, what the fuck are you on about?’

She sighs and crosses her arms. ‘Simon broke up with me.’

I try to squash down the hopeful feeling in my chest. It’s not like this is going to do me any good. (Anything is possible). (No, not this.)

‘My condolences,’ I say drily. ‘Or perhaps I should deliver them to Snow.’

‘He broke up with me because of you,’ she snaps. ‘Because of his feelings for you.’

‘Excuse me?’ I try not to let it show on my face. How fast my heart is beating. How much I want this to be true.

‘Just don’t use this to hurt him,’ she insists. ‘That would be low, even for you. Just leave him alone.’

‘Sorry, I’m still stuck on the part where you said Snow has feelings for me?’ My voice sounds too high.

‘Yeah, well, so am I,’ Wellbelove mutters. ‘I mean it, Baz. Don’t hurt him.’

‘What makes you think I can?’ Either Wellbelove is mistaken, or I must be hallucinating. Snow can’t have feelings for me. Snow hates me. He thinks I’m every kind of evil he’s ever known.

‘Because he told me,’ she says. ‘He says he’s in love with you, and I sure hope for his sake that it’s not true. I know you don’t think I’m much of a threat but I promise you, if you hurt someone I care about, I’ll fucking end you.’

‘Right,’ I say. I’m not scared of Wellbelove, but the way she’s looking at me right now, maybe I judged her too quickly. I want to tell her that she doesn’t need to worry, because I’m so in love with Simon Snow that even on good days I think it’s going to kill me, and all of this sounds way too good to be true.

‘I mean it,’ she says, and turns to walk away.

‘Noted,’ I manage to choke out, and now that her back is turned, I let the mask fall. I’m standing rooted to the spot staring after her with what must be a completely shell-shocked look on my face and – Aleister fucking Crowley.

Simon Snow can’t be in love with me. It’s impossible. It’s brilliant.

I look back through the door to the dining hall, and I see Wellbelove walk back to her table, and I realise Snow has been watching for her to come back.

Wait. There’s something I’m missing.

Why would she tell me that Snow has feelings for me, if she thinks I’m going to use it to hurt him?

And then I remember. Today is the last day of March. And that means tomorrow…

I draw in a sharp breath. It feels like I’ve been kicked in the gut. Fuck him. I fucking believed her, even if it was just for a minute. Fuck him for doing this to me. I want to march in there and drag him out of his chair and beat the living daylights out of him (I don’t. I don’t want to hurt him). I want to break down and cry, right here in front of the entire school. Natasha Pitch’s son, the vampire, a heartbroken, sobbing mess.

Alright. Fine, Snow. Fucking fine.

Two can play at this game.


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Reasons to read Captive Prince it has quotes like

  • What’s a death but easy, quick. It’s supposed to haunt you forever that the one time he beat you was the one time that mattered.
  • I don’t share your craven habit of hitting only those who cannot hit back, and take no pleasure in hurting those weaker than myself.
  • Like a man who enjoys owning an animal who will rake others with its claws but eat peacefully from his own hand, he was giving his pet a great deal of license.
  • A golden prince was easy to love if you did not have to watch him picking wings off flies.

It also has quotes like

  • You hit like a milk-fed catamite.
  • How lucky I am to have servants to point out my shortcomings.
  • “Is there anyone at this court who isn’t my enemy?’
    ‘Not if I can help it,’ Laurent said.
  • Laurent could inspire homicidal tendencies simply by breathing.
  • Nephew. you were not invited to these discussions.’
    ‘And yet, here I am. It’s very irritating, isn’t it?’
  • Damen had never before seen half a dozen soldiers reduced to compliant housekeeping by the sheer force of one man’s personal arrogance.
  • Yesterday I brutalised him. Today I am swooning into his arms. I would prefer the charges against me to be consistent. Pick one. 
  • Yes, apparently I have fucked my enemy, conspired against my future interests, and colluded in my own murder. I can’t wait to see what feats I will perform next.
The Better Rogers

Summary: In which a football game with all of the Avengers helps you determine who’s the better Rogers.

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Word Count: 2,212

A/N: This one is especially written for the forever beautiful @beccaanne814-blog ! Becca, my love, I hope you are having an amazing day because that’s exactly what you deserve. I’m so grateful to have you in my life and I hope you enjoy this! 

Originally posted by boston-boy-evans

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?“ You counter, lips tilting up into a smirk.

“Okay.” Steve shrugs, adjusting the sleeves of the red shirt that was made especially for this occasion. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Y/N!” Tony yells from across the field. He has his arms crossed over his chest and his frown is visible even from this distance. “Stop fraternizing with the enemy!”

Keep reading

Songbird-Ch.3

Mystic Messenger Mafia AU

║ch1║║ch2║║ch4

Word Count: 1,350

~I had to split this chapter up for lengths sake! But here you guys go! ^^ This one wasn’t graphic, but the next one will be.

“Plot? In MY FIC? It’s more common than you think”…lolololol


     He was an old man. His clothes were visibly worn and in his leathery hands he held a tattered piece of cream colored paper. His milky eyes searched the walls as he walked, admiring the paintings and moldings, the various vases and art pieces.

     Without even the slightest creak from them, he walked through another set of large wooden doors that were opened for him, and into the room where he faced three young men. He coughed a bit as he inhaled cigar smoke, coming from the youngest man. Just a boy, in his eyes, with red hair peeking from underneath his cap as he sat leisurely in a chair on the side of the room.

     Closer to the desk sat a well-dressed man. His suit must have been worth more than the he made in a year, the old man thought. His leg crossed over his other, and a look of interest on his face as his eyes tracked the man’s walk towards the desk.

     His hands were shaking at seeing the Don. He sat in a large leather chair behind a mahogany desk. His suit was white and contrasting against his blue hair and eyes. The eyes that were dull but searching the old man in a serious manner.

     The old man made his way slowly to the side of the desk. On weakened knees he began kneeling down and kissed the back of the man’s palm before standing up and taking a few steps back. The Don’s face remained calm and unyielding.

     “Why have you come to me, today,” he asked the old man.

     While his voice was soft, it was surprisingly commanding. His right hand was caressing his thick cane like a habit as everyone stared at each other in the quiet room. The old man suddenly felt light headed at the realization of where he was at.

     His calloused fingers shakily held out the paper to the Don, before being snatched up by the dark haired man at his side.

     “You did not meet us as first ordered in our first letter. Do what you please. It is immaterial to us, money or death. If you want to save your life, tomorrow have $1,000 ready. Two men will go to present themselves to you. You will give not less than $1,000. Thus you may stop us from persecuting you as you have been adjudged to give money or life. Woe upon you if you do not resolve to buy your future happiness, you can do so by giving us the money demanded…otherwise we will set fire to you or blow you up with a bomb. Consider this matter well, for this is the last warning I will give you,” the dark haired man read, “at the bottom of a page is a black hand drawn above a coffin.”

      The room was thick with silence for a moment. Even the red haired man had pulled the cigar from his mouth and finally sat up straight in his chair to listen in. V did not seem phased.

     “And what would you like me to do,” V asked the old man.

      “I have been loyal to you for many, many years…I am old. The convenience store I run is enough to feed my family, but…I can’t afford to pay this money! Who could? I have a daughter…grandchildren, all dependent on me. Please…Don V…have mercy on me and my family. Help us…” his eyes are welling with tears as he speaks, but he does not cry.

     “This is the first time you have come to me for help. You have never invited me to your home for coffee…”

     “What do you want of me? My home is yours. My business is yours, please…” the old man pleaded through weak breaths and shaking hands.

     “You want our protection,” V states.

     “You understand everything, Don V,” the old man grovels.

     “If you are offering your friendship…your enemies are my enemies. Our enemies…My men will make sure you are safe. They will fear you, as they do us,” he explained with an unchanging and hard face.

     “Please. Accept me…be my friend. I want nothing more than your friendship,” his voice cracked a moment but he bowed nonetheless and brought the Dons hand into his own, bringing it to his forehead.

     V nodded in agreement as they brought the old man out by his arms at first, before gently guided him out of the room.

     “You will owe me,” V called to him in a flat tone of warning.

     When the man had disappeared from sight, Jumin stood up from his chair and placed the letter down on the desk in front of V.

     “We should get to the bottom of this as soon as we can,” he explained.

     Elizabeth 3rd had jumped from his lap with a meow and trot across the floor, jumping up into V’s lap. Though his face was unchanging and unmoving, he pet her with his free hand as he leaned in the chair.

     “I’m aware, thank you,” he nodded.

     Saeyoung had removed the cigar from his mouth and stood up to pace the room. Though V had seemed calm, he was worried. No one had ever challenged their territory before. Families knew to stick to their own sides and keep to themselves. His brain was working in overdrive trying to imagine who could have the balls enough to challenge them. Had he ever seen the symbols before? No, if he asked around enough, perhaps someone would be familiar…

     “Who do you want to me assign to this,” Saeyoung asked.

     “Whomever,” V waved his hand, “who do you trust most?”

     “Lucky and…Kitten,” he scratched his head as he thought about it.

     Jumin, who had been taking a peek outside the blinds behind V’s desk, flooding the room with light before he stopped to face Saeyoung, stepped away. His face was full of concern but V still seemed stoic and unmoving.

     “Kitten, hm,” he asked with a cynical chuckle, “you’ve been getting closer to that one. Any particular reasoning?”

     “I’d tell you, if it were any of your fucking business,” Saeyoung shrugged with a smile. 

     They were in a stare down across the room. Only the jingle of Elizabeth’s collar could be heard in the silence. Even the body guards had left them to their privacy.

     “I believe it is. Since where you put your dick affects this organization-“

     “Enough!” V commanded.

     Both of them jumped as his cane smacked down on the wooden desk with a loud snap. Each of them quieted down, awaiting his next words. V couldn’t stand either of their bickering. It made it hard for him to call on them both at the same time. And he needed them both. V was quiet, his mind rampant with thinking about what would be coming in the next several weeks. Though he remained calm and silent about the inner workings in his mind, he knew it was going to be tough times ahead. The ominous feeling swallowed him like quicksand.

     “Saeyoung, what are you waiting for? Get going,” V said sternly before he watched Saeyoung leave the room in haste. He took note of the annoyed scoff he made in Jumin’s direction before he left.

     V stood from his chair and headed for the drink cart at the side of the room. His cane tapped slowly in front of him with each step. His sight wasn’t completely gone. In fact, he considered himself lucky he could see as much as he did.

     “It’s getting worse, isn’t it,” Jumin remarked, his tone had a hint of pity laced within.

     “You have to help Saeyoung. He’ll be head of the family soon…I can’t have you two at each others throats like this,” he sighed.

     “V-“

     “Jihyun,” he cut Jumin off, “we are alone now, after all,” he replied with a smile.

     “Jihyun…I’ll do my best. I’ll advise him the best I can. But shouldn’t you tell him?” Jumin asked sincerely.

     “In due time…thank you, old friend,” V took a sip of his drink.

Questionable Morals

My cyborg assassin, during infiltration mission, is going around killing sleeping enemies before the mission proper has begun.

One guy (NPC), a known psychopath with a long criminal history, wakes up during this and freaks out when said assassin has the knife at his throat and grabs his arm. “Wait! I can help you!”

Assassin: “You can help me by dying!”

Tiefling ally in the background: *barely controlled snickering*

Secret Identity

Stripper!Au Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Just the a good old Stripper fic.

Word Count: 3,671

Warnings: Crack fic, Language, Drinking, Suggestive Stuff… (come on)

A/N: I don’t know what happened. It’s incredibly long… but I had fun ;) Since I don’t have anything better, this is my gift for 2.5k Thank you all so much ♥

Originally posted by ddee99

“Are you serious?”

“No, I’m Wanda,” your friend replied with a proud smirk.

You rubbed the spot between your eyes where you could feel a headache coming. Wanda was in charge of Natasha’s bachelorette party. You were supposed to spend the evening in a fancy restaurant, but clearly Wanda had other plans.

“I love it!” Natasha took your hand and made you follow her.

You paid the entry fee and walked into the strip club. It was noisy and surprisingly bright. You cringed as the smell of alcohol hit your nose. Wanda gave you her best innocent smile and looped her arm through yours.

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5

Damon x Reader

Requested By Anon

Thank you @justfangstvdto for the Kai gif (and the advice on how to write him)


You frowned as Damon lent in and smirked at the girl he was flirting with at the bar. You tried hard to ignore the jealous feeling or the fact that he glanced your way but you found your fists clenching and you pushed away from the bar.

“Hows my favourite housemate?” Stefan teased when you dawdled home and slammed the front door.

“Fine.” You snapped and he cocked his head.

“Didn’t you go to the bar with Damon?” He asked knowing your bad mood was because of his brother.

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The real monster

DM: as you attack the enemy, you slice off part of the robe revealing a MASSIVE arm stiched to this monster
Pixie Rogue: guys I think I found the real monster here.
Cleric: I CALLED IT, I said he would be CREATING monsters last week! This monster is a stitch monster!
Pixie Rogue: the real monster is modern medicine

SHANCE AU: The God and Gladiator 

Back again, this time with a Shance au.

-Basically, Lance is a god of water and beauty (I’m mixing a lot of my mythology knowledge into this au)

-Shiro was a a traveling astrologist and merchant until he was caught in a battle that got him captured as a slave for an enemy empire. He was then used as a gladiator and released as the Champion when he lost his arm in his final battle

-He now kind of wanders as the weird wise guy who is in his twenties and only has one arm

-Lance is one day messing around and loses his magic urn, dropping it to Earth by mistake

-Lance ends up going down to Earth to find it, and comes across Shiro in the streets and observes this amputee telling all kinds of glorious gladiator battles to children giving him bread in exchange

-Enthralled, Lance asks Shiro to help him find his urn in exchange for a new arm

-Shiro doesn’t really believe in magic, but travels with Lance anyway bc he’s nice like that

-Lance ends up creating a magic arm from a star and gifting it to Shiro, who is incredibly stunned and promises to even give his life to Lance in the mission to find the urn

-They come across beasts and stuff, like giant serpents, minotaurs, and even a tribe of cyclopses 

-Lance ends up getting a minotaur horn as a new enchanted healing tool

-Cute hotspring date where Lance asks about each of Shiro’s scars and soothes him during a nightmare later that evening

-Lance learning of human customs, Shiro finding Lance’s curiosity adorable

-They fall in love somewhere along the way

-Shiro is almost killed, Lance uses the horn to heal him and they fight about the use of it when Lance says something along the lines of “I’m immortal and you are not, I can sit still for centuries and never age but you die in under a century. You promised to give me your life, right? So use it to live the mortal experience for me!”

-Shiro is touched and they continue on to where their adventure takes them to meet Pidge, a forest nymph, who found Lance’s urn and is willing to give it back bc “The urn was flooding everything.” (It’s a magic urn belonging to a water god,, what were u expecting??)

-Lance ends up getting sick before he departs from Shiro, who is confused bc why is a god getting sick????

-Lance ends up leaving ill, and Shiro is lonely and worried but like it’s not like he can tie a god down

-Eventually, a year after Lance’s leave, Shiro is greeted by a dream telling him to go to the flower field where Lance left

-Shiro finds a human Lance there, who is shivering and complaining about the cold

-”What are you doing here? And where’s your urn? Did you lose it again?” 

-”I forgot my favorite human here– and Keith was getting really irritating when he complained about the underworld. Mind if i stay with you for the human experience?”

-”I’d bring down the very heavens singlehandedly if you ask it of me, Lance.”

-(Keith is like, the son of Hades or smth,, idk)

-Happy endings all the way, they grow old together, and when they die Lance is a god again and Shiro is made into an immortal with Allura’s permission

-(Allura is my equivalent to Zeus)

Epic Rap Battles Of History: Korra Vs. Ed Elric (03)

Originally posted by chatnoirs-baton

Originally posted by fullmetalfreak

(Beat used to base this on: Tony Hawk vs Wayne Gretzky)

Korra:

I can out class this little boy and his tin can

No need for bending when I can break your real arm with one hand.

You got a whole military to protect and resource you.

So which Mustang is gonna ride this battle for you?

I’m the girl who put Nickelodeon back on the map! 

You look like you missed your afternoon nap.

I mean you’re always scowling.

That face is so petty.

I wouldn’t throw a tantrum if my mechanic was that pretty.

All my fire in this fight will turn your metal into glass.

You should be used to women whooping your ass. 

Fma’s old and basic. 

The Fandom has faded.

And spoiler alert!

You’re on your 4th remake Ed!

I drop enemies like they were bad habits with one kick

I’ll embarrass this kid worse than that shamballa flick.

Keep those gloves on Eddy, and give Roy this report.

“I need some new shoes, cause I’m so short!”   

Ed:

I knew you’d suck,

But damn Korra.

All those reincarnations still couldn’t help ya. 

I’m the greatest ever cause my anime doesn’t play. 

But when it comes to subplots, I don’t ripoff anime!

If it’s fight you want, it’s a fight you’ll get!

A fist to the face is how I show respect! 

I’ll take your whole Krew down with a single clap.

Get ready, cause you’re the one who’s gonna put down for a nap!

Let me tell you how much a live action movie’s worth.

Quadruple what Nick spent on your game.

Reviews killed it upon birth. 

Now we both like gear-heads. Winry’s the only girl I’d never exchange. 

But you dated your whole team?

Talk about the ‘x-games’. 

There’s no major accomplishments you did on your own.

Even the 12 year old kid fought the main villain alone.

Oh you like to fire bend? 

Try it against Roy’s alchemy!

If you’re cold against the Colonel, you won’t survive against me!

Korra:

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atratum  asked:

miranda!

1. 

Mr. Hamilton asks her to marry him so often it becomes a game. “Marry me, Miss Barlow,” he’ll say when they step together in a dance, smiling at her as the dance separates them. 

“I couldn’t marry you today,” she’ll reply when the music joins them again, and his palm presses lightly against hers. “You will note the stormclouds.” 

“The rain would not do,” Mr. Hamilton will agree, hers for a few more measures. “Perhaps next week, when the weather clears?”

“Certainly not,” Miranda will say, and caress his thumb briefly with her own, risking the scandalized eye of Lady Heyward. “I could never marry under clear skies.” 

2. 

James books their passage under the names of Mr. and Mrs. McGraw, and although she understands the necessity–she won’t be parted from him, any more than he’ll be parted from her, and not even the relaxed atmosphere of a merchant vessel bound for Port Royal will allow Mr. McGraw and Mrs. Hamilton to share a cabin–she hates it. James is not her husband, although she’s never loved him more than she does now, the way misery loves grief. 

She’ll never have a husband again. 

1. 

Miranda refuses to marry Mr. Hamilton twice at the opera with the Dudleys, much to their amusement, but she takes his arm and arranges things so the two of them are side by side in the Dudleys’ box. He murmurs softly to her for the duration of the play, clever and wicked by turns, and she had him only the day before, on his knees in Duke R––’s library, but she’s already desperate to have him again. 

“Oh, marry me, Miranda,” he says with amused frustration when the night is over, but the conversation is not. “Come home and talk with me until we’ve put Caccini thoroughly to bed.” 

“Perhaps tomorrow, Mr. Hamilton,” Miranda says gently, and hopes that her eyes are promising him what she cannot, in their company–that she will give him whatever he likes in private, but she is clever enough to recognize the jaws of marriage, its unyielding bite. She has a few years yet before she must step into the trap. 

2. 

On the ship from Port Royal to Nassau, no one cares what their names are, or who shares her bed. She lies in the living dark of the ship at night–the men at watch walking above her head, the groaning communion of the ship and sea an endless chorus–and smooths her hand over James’s hair, mindless and repetitive. He’s awake, but quiet, his breath warm on the bare skin of her stomach. 

The last thing Thomas said to her was Take care of James

“I love you,” she says to the man in her bed. 

1. 

“I would never trap you,” Thomas swears in her bed, tender and relentless. “Would you trap me?” 

“Never,” Miranda says, pressing a brief kiss to his knuckles. “But it would not be the same. You would always have power over me.” 

He looks at her, very serious. “Would you like power over me?” he asks. 

2. 

James Flint murders a man at her word, and then returns to her, like an animal at the end of its chain. 

He tells her that Alfred Hamilton begged for his life. He tells her that her mother-in-law was there on the ship, too, and he did not spare her. His voice shakes in the telling, and she kisses him for it. 

Thomas died alone, in a cold, dark place. Captain Flint is bloodstained and grim in her arms, and she loves him, she loves him, she loves him. 

1. 

Thomas gives her a ring, a household, the promise of a title, and a small bundle of letters that would ruin him utterly if they fell into the wrong hands. He places them in hers with terrifying ease. “Come live with me,” he says, grinning like he’s won, like she’s won, like they’ve triumphed over an enemy together, “and be my love.” 

A year into their marriage, Miranda throws the letters into the fire. 

2. 

James comes home after a two month voyage and kisses her clumsily at the door, purple shadows under his eyes. She manages to get him to take off his boots before he falls into bed, but he’s too exhausted to remember his belt, or his coat. He’s asleep almost as soon as he lies down, and she sits down beside him, feels a rush of affection so strong it feels like fury. 

Oh, she thinks, looking down at the wounded face she knows as well as her own. You are all I have in the world. 

The affection dims under the weight of the thought.

The fury never leaves her. 

Little One

Reader x Kol Mikaelson

(NOT MY GIF)

*Requested

Word count: 2114

Imagine: being Damon and Stefan’s little sister and having to tell them you are dating Kol Mikaelson.

Being a Salvatore had its perks and, mostly, it was great to have caring and loving siblings. Of course, as you were the younger one and a girl, Damon and Stefan felt like you were, somehow, weaker than them and needed their full protection on every decision you made. Those kind of thoughts annoyed you deeply and it was exactly what drove you to run away from them, disappearing for a few decades. It was for your own sake and you did not regret it for one minute.

“So, mind to tell us where the heck were you last night?” Damon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Out with a friend.”

“Y/N, you know it’s dangerous out there, especially with the Originals in town.” Stefan reasoned with you.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine and I’m surely not scared of them.”

Your brothers did not know, but you had met the Mikaelsons years ago and grew very close to them, especially to the younger one: Kol Mikaelson. You and him dated for a while, enjoying the pleasures of being wild vampires in the twist of the millennium. It was a brief relationship, though. He disappeared without any explanation and left you heartbroken.

“You should.”

“Don’t worry about me, sweethearts.” You laughed. “Now I’ll go upstairs and shower. Do not disturb me, okay?”

“When did you become so bossy?”

“My brother taught me so when I was little girl.” You yelled, in the way to your room, hearing Stefan laugh downstairs.

Soon enough, you arrived your destination, rushing to open the curtains and admire the gorgeous day outside. Bright sun, white clouds; the whole scene got you wishing to put on a bikini and go swimming. But, as you were at Mystic Falls, that would not be possible. A sigh came out of your lips as the realisation you missed your travels hit you. Shaking your head, you undressed quickly, leaving a small pile of clothes on the floor.

At the bathroom, you put together a great shower.

“Damn it, Damon.” You rolled your eyes, noticing one of your bath salts was gone.

Having no other choice, you shrugged and entered the tub. The water was so warm and cosy it made you close your eyes, smiling. After the long night you had, that was exactly what you needed to unwind.

The minute you closed your eyes, you could not help but think about Kol. It was funny how you thought you would never see him again and, somehow, he was undaggered by Niklaus the same time you got back to Mystic Falls. Sure it could not be a coincidence.


[Over 100 years ago]

“So, Mary, are you sure this party is safe?”

“Yes! I’ve told you that a million times. One of my friends, Elijah, invited me over, I asked if you could come and he said yes.”

“Why do I feel you’re not telling me everything?”

“Come on, Y/N! Let’s go! You get to meet handsome men and drink fresh blood, that ought be good.”

You bit your lower lip, analysing the situation and finally agreeing to go, nodding your head slightly. Mary smiled and let out a girlish shout, which made you giggle.

“By the way, you look stunning in that dress.”

“Don’t make me blush or I might regret going to this party thing.”

Mary only rolled her eyes, the smirk never leaving her lips, and grabbed your hand, pulling you inside the vehicle. For your best friend, life was an endless festivity, you just had to jump in it and enjoy. As for that evening, you decided to go along with her beliefs.


{later that night}

“This is such a bore, Mary. You never told me it was going to be ball.”

The family who owned that place was, surely, very rich. The room had a very unique decoration, featuring light coloured walls, expensive furniture and a bunch of stuff you did not care to pay attention to. Actually, the only thing that caught your eye was a very good-looking guy, who kept gazing at you all night long. However, he did not dare to come around and talk to you.

“Look, stay just a little bit longer and then you’re free to go, all right?”

“Okay.” You nodded. “I’ll go outside, to catch some air. It won’t take long.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll see you later.”

You went up, searching for some sort of balcony. Although it was a clear night with a bright moon shining, the wind kept howling. These moments reminded you so much of your brothers, how they would tuck you in bed and sing you a lullaby, so you would sleep peacefully. Especially Damon. You and him were immensely close siblings.

“Well, what are you doing all by yourself here, love?”

“I guess this is not my kind of party, so I snuck out.” You answered the stranger, without looking at him.

“I saw you with Mary. Are you friends with her?”

“Yeah, she has been my friend for a few years now.” You replied, staring firmly at the moon. “How do you know her?”

“She’s sort of a family friend.”

“Elijah is a relative of yours?”

“My brother.”

You glanced over your shoulder, curious of what that man would look like. For your surprise, you recognised the devilish smirk and the filled with mischief eyes. He walked towards you slowly, which lead you to assume he was huge teaser. His warm touch got your shoulders and you could not help but shudder under it.

“I believe I haven’t gotten your name.”

“Kol Mikaelson, at your service.” He kissed your hand, as a way to display courtesy. “Mind to tell me yours?”

“Y/N Salvatore.”

“Now, what do you say we ditch this party and go out to have some fun?”

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