infernal contraption

Crawling Chaos - Part Two - Void Stiles

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Void Stiles/Reader

Word Count: 5,687

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (both receiving), masturbation, bondage, biting, daddy kink, literally 90% of this is PURE FILTH

Notes: I had no restraint on this. Y’all can blame @minhosmeanhoe for literally demanding this from me, and giving me things to add to this because we would just talk about everything kinky with Void. Lemme know your thoughts!

Part 1  Part 3

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To second chances

What if Killian had found out the truth before finding David in that cell…Based on a scene I wrote once in another fandom and suddenly seemed super appropriate to captain charming.   

(Because darn it I wanted this drama wrapped up in one episode) 


The click of the cuff around his wrist was far more insulting than anything else and Killian watched in annoyance until David’s truck vanished from sight.  But there were only so many places to go in this town.  Lifting the chain from around his neck with his hook he found a small silver key, hidden amongst the charms,  very convenient thing to have around, living in close proximity to Charmings.  Taking the key in his teeth he made quick work of the handcuffs and sprinted to Granny’s pushing open the door and calling inside.  

“Drinks on me for a week for the first person to give me a ride-” he gestured in the general direction David’s truck had taken.  

“Sure, why not,” August spoke up from behind him. Killian turned around to see the puppet had pulled up on his infernal contraption.    “But you’ll have to wear the pink helmet.”

“I’m not wearing the bloody pink helmet.”  

“My ‘ship’ my rules,”  August drawled,  then seeming to remember something he dug into a satchel.  “When you catch up with David, would you give these to him?  Honestly there’s nothing else in there but I thought he’d like to have them anyway.”   

Killian glanced down briefly and suddenly his blood turned to ice.  That face-  He must have hesitated for a moment because August looked back at him.

“Thought you were in a hurry, Cap?”  

Killian snapped the pink helmet onto his head and hopped on the demon bike without a second thought.  “We need to find Dave’s truck, now.”

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Hope of Morning: Mother’s Day (Flash Forward) | Modern OQ AU

Previous chapters aka how to find out what the hell is going on.

We’re going to flash forward about eight or nineish months for a Mother’s Day fic. Also, fair warning, Regina likes to swear to blow off steam, so if that’s not your thing, then this isn’t your fic. Enjoy, peeps, and call your mom.


Sundays aren’t supposed to be this difficult.

Regina adjusts the volume on the small, cylindrical speakers to the right of her console and bites her lower lip as she tries to decipher the officer’s last transmission.

Traffic that’s garbled or muffled as it enters the single earpiece on her headset tends to magically clear up when played back on a higher quality speaker. But not always. Sometimes her officers are simply marble-eating mumble-mouths. Like this one.

“Goddamn motherfucking shit ass unit. Take your beat partner’s dick out of your mouth and then speak on the radio.” Regina sighs, hard, and stomps on her foot pedal to open the channel. “4311, readvise your location,” she broadcasts, pitching her voice higher to compensate for the mocking frustration leaking through her delivery.

The unit keys up, speaking slower, if not more clearly, but it’s enough for her to piece together his cross street and get his traffic stop entered into the computer. She slumps back in her chair, then kicks away from her console to stand and stretch her lower back. Two hours into shift and she can already feel her blood pressure flushing the tips of her ears.

“Regina, take a break. I got your radio,” her supervisor yells from the front of the room. “We’ve got observers in the lobby. I need you to bring them up.”

Great. Why the hell are there observers on a Sunday night? And on Mother’s Day, no less. Sundays aren’t known for the balls to the wall, crazy, careening call volume or types they see on Fridays and Saturdays or during the full moon; Sunday is typically the most boring, and longest, shift of the week.

Regina pulls her headset off, wincing as the edge catches a length of hair and tugs it free of the bun she’d thrown up haphazardly after shift meeting, and then hangs the metal headband from the long arm of her desk lamp. She pats her pocket to ensure she has her card key to get back into the center, shoving her chair out of the way with her foot as she exits her pod.

“However did you guess I needed a break, Granny?” she asks as she strolls past the supervisors’ desks, in no particular hurry.

The silver-haired lead supervisor raises her eyebrows over her square spectacles. “I think the deputy chiefs heard your last outburst all the way downtown.”

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You stood outside a little cafe, having stopped in for a cup of coffee. In the short time that you were inside, the sky had turned from blue to grey and it had started to pour down with rain; fat heavy raindrops pounding the pavement.

As you stepped outside, you immediately felt like someone had dumped a bucket of icy water over your head. Cursing loudly, you reached inside your bag, fumbling around for an umbrella. When you finally found it, and pushed the automatic catch to open it, a large gust of wind blew the infernal contraption right out of your hands. You cried out in surprise and dismay.

Just as you are about to head back into the cafe, the rain on your head stopped. You turned around, confused, because there was still rain pouring down around you. Standing beside you was Mike; holding a large, sturdy umbrella over you, protecting you from the storm.

He seemed incredibly amused by your plight. A mischievous smile danced across his face, almost as though he had planned the whole encounter, from the rainstorm, to the lost umbrella, to his heroic rescue of a damsel in distress.

“You look very pleased with yourself right now,” you grumbled.

“You’re very welcome,” Mike winked at you.

You had never seen him look so impish before but it was surprisingly attractive.

“Thank you for saving me,” you smirked at him.

“Do you want to go retrieve your umbrella?”

“I think it’s a pretty lost cause, don’t you?”

Mike nodded.

“Say, you wouldn’t mind sharing with me, would you?” you asked.

“I’m always happy to rescue a fair maiden!”

“Don’t push it Doddsie!”

Mike laughed and offered you his elbow and you walked to the precinct arm in arm under his umbrella.

2

Y/N: Loki-Loki no! That’s not the gear shift! Loki! Leave it be!

Loki: Why is this infernal contraption attached to where my hands must be placed?

Y/N: That’s how the car was made. 

Loki: Why must the road be drenched in this silvery color?

Y/N: Because we’re in England; it’s almost always raining. Now, there’s a slight turn up ahead so pull your foot off the gas slighTLY! OW!

Loki: *laughing*

Y/N: LOKI!

Loki: *singing* I’m forever driving in puddles! *speeds up*

Y/N: *grips car door* LOKI!

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A (temporarily) Untitled Pompous Pep (Pt 3)

Part 3 everyone! I hope you enjoy and I really hope to get page four up soooooon!!!

~~~~~~

“So, what time did you get me home?” Danny said, sipping his sickeningly-sweet beverage, enjoying the warmth it left on his lips.

“Well… I believe I carried you to your bed around maybe a quarter-past four, so I can only assume it was close to four in the morning.”

“Wow… so really really late,” Danny paused to set down his cup, “and you carried me, old man?”

Vlad scoffed and halfheartedly glared at Danny, “I’m in my forties, I am not yet frail, Daniel. Besides, how else did you think I could keep up with your meddling?” The older man playfully punched the teen’s shoulder, making Danny cough out a light laugh.

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anonymous asked:

How about Graves gets stuck in the elevator with the reader who has a crush on him?

You’d always hated elevators. Truth be told, you would have been pretty happy not to set foot in another elevator in your entire life. Unfortunately for you, working at MACUSA pretty much necessitated the use of the infernal contraptions. Usually, you just stepped on the elevator, steeled yourself for the journey down, and tried not to fidget too much until it arrived at your floor. Today, however, had other plans.

You stepped on the elevator, as usual, and found yourself face to face with none other than Percival Graves. Merlin, this should be good. You took your place next to him, trying not to glance over at him too much. He was wearing a blue scarf today. You tried not to think about how handsome he looked in blue. For all you knew, he was secretly a legilimens. You wouldn’t put it past him to hide something like that. When he looked over at you, perfect eyebrow arched, you almost had a heart attack.

“You’re looking a bit pale today.”

You let out a nervous chuckle. “Oh, I don’t care for elevators. That’s all.” End of conversation. You thought you’d done well. You’d actually come up with a few sentences that all made sense together this time. Ever since you’d realized your crush on him, you’d turned into a bit of an idiot whenever he was around.

The two of you rode together in silence for a while, and you were starting to wonder if the damn elevator was ever going to stop moving. A few moments later, you were cursing yourself for wondering as the elevator came to a screeching halt between two floors. You stepped back, pressing your back to the wall as the lights went out, and tried to keep your breathing level. This was your worst nightmare. You heard Graves mutter “lumos”, and then the little room was enveloped in a cool blue light.

“Are you alright?” he asked, brows pinched together in concern. You shook your head.

“Not really, no.”

He frowned, holding his wand down and stepping closer to you. “Can I help?”

That surprised you a bit. You knew he wasn’t quite the grump everyone thought, but you’d never known him to be so outwardly compassionate.

“Just-“ You weren’t really sure what to tell him. You wouldn’t mind a hug, but you didn’t think you could really just ask him for one. You thought you were doing a pretty good job keeping your breathing even, but you suddenly started to feel a little faint. You must have looked it, too, because he wrapped a strong arm around your waist to hold you up and you let your forehead fall to his shoulder. “Thanks,” you breathed, feeling slightly better already.

“Anytime.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “You know, if you wanted an excuse to touch me, you could have just asked.” You laughed softly at that.

“How presumptuous of you, Mr. Graves.” You could feel his breath on your ear, and an involuntary shiver ran up your spine.

“I don’t think it’s a presumption if you have evidence. Cold, are we?” You nodded, though you knew you weren’t fooling him. “Perhaps I should lend you my coat, then.”

You were a little shocked when he actually shrugged off his coat. The motion made you remember that you were actually leaning against him, so you righted yourself as he put his coat around your shoulders.

“Thank you. For everything. I-“ You cut off as the lights came back on and the elevator whirred back to life. He gave you a little nod and the two of you went to your respective floors with no discussion of what had just transpired. It was only when you got to your desk that you remembered his coat. You smiled, drawing it tighter around yourself. You’d never say no to an excuse to see him again.

3

For anon…I’m using quotes from several of Will Ferrell’s movies. They will be bolded. Enjoy.

Y/N was laughing on the couch watching yet another Will Ferrell movie. Loki sat next to them with a raised brow. He let out a sigh.

“You find this amusing?” he asked.
“How can you not?” they replied between chuckles.

Loki let out a long sigh. Binge watching any movie with this man in it was becoming irritating. Little did he know it had just begun.


“Does no one care to help me with this infernal contraption you call a cell phone?” Loki yelled.
Y/N chuckled. “If we went to a Halloween party as Batman and Robin, I’d go as Robin. That’s how much you mean to me.

Loki halted his yelling to send them a glare. They just snickered while grabbing his phone.

I’m going to climb over that anger wall of yours someday, and it’s going to be glorious. Okay Loki?”

Loki rolled his eyes and sighed deeply.


Loki and Y/N sat at the dinner table eating their food. Loki was calm as he ate the dinner he had made. He glanced up to see Y/N grinning.

“How’s the food? Does it taste alright?” he asked sincerely.
Well, let me just quote the late-great Colonel Sander, who said, ‘I’m too drunk to taste this chicken’.”
“We’re not even eating chicken?” he barked, “And you haven’t been drinking either!”
Well, that escalated quickly,” Y/N snickered.

Loki stood abruptly from the table. For being the god of mischief, he didn’t seem to be enjoying their tom-foolery.

“Would you please stop quoting that obnoxious human?”

A glint passed over Y/N’s eyes as they gave him a smirk. Loki’s face fell into a curious one. Y/N stood up and put their plate in the sink.

“Loki Dokey,” they agreed with a giggle.

They pecked the god’s cheek before heading to the living room.

“I think I preferred the quotes,” he muttered to himself.

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Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 74: The Proposal

Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 74: The Proposal

Pairing:  Captain Swan

Rating: T

Summary:  A series of unrelated, fluffy one shots featuring  Killian Jones and Emma Swan and the relationship that makes us all  swoon. Will contain both canon and AU stories. My contribution to  Operation Rainbow Kisses and Unicorn Stickers (aka, my attempt to drown  out the season 4 finale angst with ridiculous levels of fluff.)

Missed the beginning? ( 1) ( 2) ( 3) ( 4) ( 5) (6) ( 7) ( 8) ( 9) ( 10) ( 11) ( 12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31) (32) (33) (34) (35) (36) (37) (38) (39) (40) (41) (42) (43) (44) (45) (46) (47) (48) (49) (50) (51) (52) (53) (54) (55) (56) (57) (58) (59) (60) (61) (62) (63) (64) (65) (66) (67) (68) (69) (70) (71) (72) (73)

(Tagging a few people who may be interested: @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @fleurreads @doracianstormrose @mermaidswans @bethacaciakay @ultraluckycatnd @allfangirlallthetime @effulgentcolors, @ilovemesomekillianjones @kat2609 @brooke-to-broch @missgymgirl @hellomommanerd @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 @lapi-lazuli @nickillian @a-rose-for-a-savior @in-spirational @gillie @manic-pixiefangirl @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst @nofeels @holmes-a-holic)

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CS genre: Future fic

Killian peeked into the oven and nodded in satisfaction as he watched the two ramekins of something called “molten lava cake” bubble merrily away just as Granny had assured him they should.  Glancing at the clock, he set the vase of roses in the center of the kitchen table and then set about lighting the candles he’d procured with Swan’s lad’s help.

After a week and a half of intense preparation, he was finally ready to put his plan into motion. Dinner was prepared, a sufficiently romantic atmosphere was achieved, and the ring lay secure against his skin on its chain around his neck.  He had but to touch up his own appearance and he was ready for the evening at hand.

If all went well, within a few hours’ time, he would be engaged to his True Love.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

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prismspringer-deactivated201706  asked:

Levihan 6 for the fic thingy

send me a ship and a number and i’ll write a mini fic


6. things you said under the stars and in the grass

He loses Hange after dinner. One moment she’s moving through the darkening halls at his side, cracking her knuckles, and the next she is gone – conspicuously, suspiciously absent, a vital function you notice only after it ceases. He should let her disappear – it’s common enough at this juncture, and he’s not in the mood for her various shenanigans– but it’s exactly that foul mood that makes him stubborn. He wasn’t ready to say goodnight yet. 

So he scours headquarters, growing increasingly more irate until he finds her in the field outside the mess hall, perched amid incomprehensible charts, fiddling with a large brass telescope. Every now and then she’ll lean too close to the lens, and her goggles click softly against the smooth glass. It’s both reassuring and annoying. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks her, though it’s obvious.

“Levi! Come sit with me.” 

He does, grudgingly. It’s so like her not to waste words with an obvious answer. 

The fading sky stretches above them, punctuated by faint stars and a translucent moon, fixing to its shifting point above. But Hange is patient, and he is stubborn; they wait in silence until the sun slips beneath the horizon and the stars emerge, steady and vast, staggering in their scope; beneath them he remembers a single file of ants that had made their home in his, before the Survey Corps, before the end. They had scurried, black and frail, in the harsh light; each single step of his comprised thousands of theirs. He wonders how small he must seem to a solitary star. 

Hange captures her lower lip between her teeth as she fiddles with the knobs and gears, tracking light across the darkness. He should watch the sky, or watch his hands, or watch the shadow of the treeline for danger, but instead he steals childish glances at her out of the corner of his eye. A flash of her hair, a flash of her nose. Her set mouth. It’s her enthusiasm that draws him close; it warms him, even though the night is cool. When she finds what she was searching for, she smiles, and its brilliance overwhelms.

“Look,” she urges, so he does.

He has to readjust the lens before he can make anything out, accounting for his far keener eyesight, but finally after muttering and uncharitable thoughts toward this infernal contraption, he can just make out a fuzzy red sphere, and the sight is so foreign that he draws back, blinking.

“You saw it?” 

“The red earth?” 

“Yeah!” She frames the red planet between her hands, holding it in place, an almost unbearably tender gesture. He should take it as a sign of her madness – that not even distant words are safe from her anthropomorphizing– yet in the face of his discovery, it is somehow mutual and private. “Someday, people are going to live up there.”

He eyes her speculatively. “You want to work hard taking this world back just to leave it?”

“I want people to be free to leave if they want– not because they were chased away, but because they were curious. Because they got restless looking up there, seeing that distant place in the sky. Wondering what it’d feel like under their feet..” She looks at him, suddenly serious. “People go wrong when they don’t have anything to reach for.” 

He thinks about that long after they say goodnight. There are no peaceful, steady conclusions; instead he watches the sky from beyond his open window, staring hard at the place the red planet had been, feeling that restless ache settle deep in his chest. 

The Prince has Come

Loki was escorted into a room filled with so many mechanical and electronic mechanisms, he faintly remembered that he was struggling, they kept hitting him, forcing him into a chair- pain flashed when he thought about that infernal contraption. They had hurt him, but he couldn’t think of how they did it. He heard someone talking, what were they saying? He looked up to their lips and everything started to slowly make sense. “What is your name?” They asked. “My name is Loki, however, they also call me Asset or the Winter Prince. Sometimes just Prince.” Loki noted, then fell silent once again, don’t talk unless asked to. That was what he had been told. “Sir Pierce told me your name, but I seem to have forgotten it. What would you like me to call you?”

@lonelyxoutcasts

gingergallifreyan  asked:

What if Tentoo made that sign because someone did call the cops once? SOMEBODY FIC THAT PLEASE

We Really Need a Sign

“Ten! Haha! My lucky number, eh, Rose?” the Doctor preened at his panting companion. “What, no comment?” 

She could barely manage a breathy giggle and smacked the cocky half Time Lord’s arse. 

The Doctor fell back onto the sleeping bag when he saw a torch blaring through the thin plastic, accompanied by a dull rapping. 

“Anyone in here?” 

The blood left his face. “Oh, ah, yes? Who is it?” His voice crackled as he shouted back.

“Forest service, sir. We got a report about screaming. Could you please open the tent sir? So we can verify everyone’s all right?”

Rose didn’t even attempt hiding her snickering as the Doctor shot up, bumping his head on the tent supports and swearing. 

“Um, just a moment!” he croaked. 

He practically fell into his trousers, and Rose reached forward to stabilize his legs so he didn’t fall over on her. These infernal contraptions were not built for deliciously tall half Time Lords, he grumbled to himself. He unzipped the tent fly with a scowl plastered to his face after he made certain his Rose was decently hidden in her sleeping bag. 

“See? All very much alive and accounted for, officer!” he hissed at the blinding torch. Rose was still snickering behind him. At least somebody was amused. 

“Then what on Earth was all that noi - Oh. Seriously? Here of all places?”

He relaxed his shoulders and let a grin return to his face. “We were inspired.”

“I’ll say.”

Rose was cackling by the time the SUV (that neither of them heard driving up because of the aforementioned screams) drove off. The Doctor paid her back in tickles that left her breathless as he squeezed into the sleeping bag with her for a cuddle. 

“That was the fourth time, Rose! Four! I swear. I’m making a bloody sign and from now on I’m taking it with us wherever we go! For TARDIS’ sake.” 

“A sign?”

“Yes! ‘Please don’t dial 999. These are screams of pleasure.’”