look at her snarl

Happy Birthday, @bgonemydear!

“You ready for the match, Blake?” a familiar voice purred.  Slytherin’s star beater rested her hip against the doorjamb, a mocking smile on her face.

The rest of the team stiffened but Bellamy waved them on ahead.  “Bring it, Griffin,” he said.  “Monroe, I’ll see you out here for seeker drills tomorrow after Potions,” he instructed.  

“Like hell I’m leaving you alone with her; she could sabotage something,” Monroe snarled.  

Clarke looked down at her nails, completely unconcerned.  “We don’t have to resort to cheap tricks to beat Hufflepuff,” she laughed.  “We could beat you with half our team off sick.”

“Yeah, well—”

“Monroe, I’ve got this,” he interrupted, because Monroe was going for her wand and she was good, but Clarke was deadly.  “Good practice, everyone,” he said with finality.  “We’re ready to face a bunch of privileged arseholes who couldn’t find their way to the pitch with a map.”

Clarke made a face at him and watched his team file out.  The door to the locker room swung shut and silence swelled for a second, and then she was striding across the room to tangle her fingers in his har.  “I thought you said you’d be finished by six,” she whined and dragged his lips down for a kiss.

Bellamy smoothed her blonde hair back and pulled away.  “No, I said we’d finish around six,” he corrected.  “You were supposed to wait by the forest until you saw the team leave.”

Clarke’s hands slipped under his robes and sought out bare skin.  “I thought the team had already left,” she argued.  “And privileged arseholes?  Really?  That’s the best you could do?”

Bellamy spun them around and pressed her against the wall.  “Did you want to fight?  Or do this?” he asked, and kissed the spot just below her ear.

“Both?” she laughed, and he wondered how they’d gotten here— from mortal enemies to…this.  Two months ago it was just snogging in deserted rooms and after practice.  Thy hated each other and they liked kissing and he didn’t think it was really particularly complicated, especially as long as they kept it a secret.  But at some point things had changed; their barbs had become playful and three weeks ago he realized his favorite sound in the world was her laugh.  But her mouth was opening under his and her skin was hot to the touch, so he’d figure that bit out later.  

Joker x Harley Quinn : Kiss the Ring

“Who do you belong to?” The Joker was behind her, his warm body so close. One hand was around her waist, the other held her hair back so his lips could be right on her. His hot breath on her ear, teeth skimming the sensitive skin. Harley closed her eyes, a moan escaping her lips. She rolled her head back until it hit his shoulder, arching her back, pushing her butt into his crotch, feeling him.

The Joker growled at her lack of response and then he was in front of her, Harley opened her eyes as his hands grasped her face tightly, making her look at him.

“Answer me.” He snarled, barring his teeth.

“You,” She said, “Only you, Mr. J.”  

Joker kept her eyes captive, his right hand abandoned her face and instead he held it up in front of her face. Confusion struck Harley’s features. She looked at his elegant fingers seeing the spade, diamond, and club tattoos. The third finger was missing a heart, that was on Harley’s cheek. Instead, on his third finger was a handsome gold ring, a big ring, almost stretching from his pinkie to his middle finger. The top of it had a ‘J’ shaped by diamonds. His favorite ring, the ring that was in front of her lips now.

Now Harley understood, he wanted her to kiss his ring. Punishing her for her hesitation just a moment ago. She knew what kissing the Joker’s ring meant. She’d seen him interrogate hundreds of people in her time with him. Every interrogation would end the same, the man would kiss Mr. J’s ring. They probably thought it was just odd behavior from an insane man but kissing Mr. J’s ring meant much more than just a kiss. It meant that he owned you. You were his. You would work for him, do business with him, make him money until either you messed up or he got bored and ended your life. It happened every time, like clockwork. Still they came to work for Joker because everyone knew that working for the Joker was always better than working against the Joker. Yes, Harley knew what kissing Mr. J’s ring meant and she wanted it.  Mr. J wanted to make sure that Harley was still his, that she always would be.

She would.

Harley went to kiss it but just as she moved the Joker stopped her with his hand that was still clutching her face.

“On your knees.” His voice was so guttural she barley recognized it. Harley smiled at him, biting her lip as she sunk down to her knees in front of him. She stared at him expectantly from the ground, the Joker held his hand back out, once again his ring was in front of her lips.

So Harley flicked her eyes up to him, smiling devilishly as she grasped his wrist. Harley kissed each of his five fingertips softly, leaving his ring finger last. She looked up at him as she kissed the ‘J’ ring. Running her lips against his skin, slowly down his finger until she was at the tip. Harley started by licking the leftover blood off his fingernail. Then, she wrapped her mouth around his finger, keeping her eyes on his. She pumped her lips up and down, closing her mouth tight around the tip and then going back down again. She licked, sucked, and kissed his finger as her other hand moving up and down his wrist suggestively.

The Joker didn’t make a sound, just stared at her. Why would you hesitate, Harl? Stupid, stupid, stupid. She released his finger from her mouth and moved her lips back up to his ring.

“Forever yours.” Harley whispered against his ‘J’ ring, looking up into his blue eyes.

They were hooded, dark.

“I’m sorry for hesitating, daddy,” She put on her most innocent voice, “You know what your purrs in my ear do to me.”

Mr. J placed two hands on either side of her neck again, and pulled her to her feet. His face still hadn’t moved, he just stared. His lovely blue eyes locked on hers, mouth unmoving. Harley really messed up this time. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Slowly, she reached forward with her hands and touched his chest. He let her, that’s a good sign. She ran her hands down his solid chest, over the tattoos on his stomach. Her fingers dipping on his toned chest. Every time she touched him was like the first time all over again, every time she just wanted to wrap her arms around his body and stay close to his warm, strong chest. Every time her fingers ached to touch more, more, more of his skin. She was completely and utterly addicted to him.

Her hands moved up, one of her hands rested on his cheek. The other on his beating heart.

She frowned as his face stayed frozen, “C’mon puddin, you know I belong to you. My heart, my body, my soul, everything in me is yours. That’s always been true. Will always be true. Can’t you see how I’m yours?”  

In the blink of an eye, he had moved. His face on the side of hers, his cheek touching her cheek. His purrs back in her ear.

“You play a dangerous game, Harley Quinn.” He whispered against her ear, voice gravelly and low- just how she liked it.

Suddenly his hands traveled down her face until they gripped her upper arms. His fingertips feather soft trailed down her arms down until his fingers clutched hers. He brought her fingers up to his mouth, keeping his eyes on hers. Harley was finding it difficult to breath.

“You’re lucky I enjoy your dangerous games.” He whispered against her third finger on her right hand, her ring finger. Harley was now the one frozen, staring at him.

The Joker kissed her finger.

Thanks for reading! 

He feels foolish, knowing that it is ridiculous to ask, yet still needing to suppress the urge to beg for her hand to impossibly pull him up out of the dark cell. “Listen… please… you need to tell someone I’m here. Tell them that this is where they need to come to find Sherlock Holmes…”

She blinks at him, and although there is nothing in her expression or tone to indicate malevolence, the lost detective feels suddenly cold at her next recitation. “You have a magnificent brain, Moffat. I admire it.”

“What?! Who’s…? No, no, I’m Sherlock.”

Her sudden smirk is clearly lit from below her chin. “But you’re really not, you know.”

He looks up at her, feeling his own mouth twitch slightly into a snarl. Brat. He wrangles his expression and tone into neutral. “You can’t just leave me here.”

“Well, I can’t lift you out.” In the dimness, she surveys his cell and blows exasperated air out her teeth. Then grins. “Hey… what’s the ground made out of… maybe you can break it?” Winks. “Your feet aren’t chained, are they?”

S feels the panic returning to the base of his spine. The dull voice that falls from his mouth doesn’t even sound like his own. “People will be looking for me.”

“I’m sure they will.” The little girl laughs lightly. “For a while anyway.” Then her face and the light is gone… the glow above the mirror well’s lip quickly receding with her departing steps. Her response is faint; far away and growing further. “Don’t worry, Steve! Catch you later…”

this is honest to god the funniest thing in the world and peak #mood please read it

dontgobrekkermyheart  asked:


But on a serious note, do you think Manon could look more feminine? Like she’s the most beautiful ever of all time, so like…. I feel that changing her outfit wouldn’t do anything. She could be covered in shit and she’d still be more attractive than everyone. Still be more naturally feminine than everyone else ever of all time. 💀💔🗑

by the time their first christmas rolls around, alyn and vera are kind of friends and the day before break starts, alyn is even more moody and surly and aggressive than usual. vera is so offended that he gets SO prickly when she asks what he’s doing for the holidays.

“it’s not any of your business,” he snaps at her. there’s something very sharp and lonely about the snarled look on his face. he stalks away from her. and everyone else in the school hall gives him a wide berth. vera asks nathan what the hell his problem is but nathan just shrugs.

“he got pissed at me for asking too. i’ll check in with him during break,” nathan says.

its not until after school resumes and the teacher announces the birthdays they missed during break that vera realizes christmas is alyn’s birthday. and its not until nathan pulls her aside after school that she learns he’d spent it all alone.

when she tries to ask alyn about it, he confesses angrily that he has no parents, that he has no family, that he has no one at all. her heart breaks at the loneliness in his voice, at the sadness and pain and its the first time she thinks she might understand him.

she gives him a hug. alyn is tense and resists it at first, but he’s never been touched this way before. he’s never been comforted like this before, not like this.

the next day, vera shows up to school with a friendship bracelet that she ties on his wrist. “it doesn’t have to mean anything unless you want it to,” she says. “i’m sorry you’ve always been alone. it doesn’t have to be like that anymore if you don’t want it to.”


Requested by marvelfanuniverse

Sara Lance as Steve Rogers

I can do a full AU if someone requests it.

“Laurel…” Sara asked shocked, looking at her sister with wide eyes.

“Who the hell is Laurel?” She snarled.

Sara gaped, tears pricking at her eyes.

“There was a woman… I knew her…” Laurel whispered with a far away look in her eyes.

“You know me,” Sara insisted.

“No I don’t!” Laurel shouted, attacking Sara once more.

“Laurel, you’ve known me your entire life. Your name is Laurel Lance.”


“I’m not going to fight you. You’re my sister,” Sara insisted, dropping her shield.

“You’re my mission. YOU’RE MY MISSION,” Laurel screamed, attacking Sara again.

“Then finish it. ‘Cause I’m with you ‘till the end of the line.”

Masterlist (One-Shots) | (Imagines)

Want to make a request? Or read the Rules and Fandoms!

anonymous asked:


The biggest problem with alphas was a simple one; they fought — especially when you stuck two of them in a classroom together.

It was an incredibly simple concept; Adrien didn’t know why it was such a hard one for whoever arranged the classes to grasp.

“There you are,” he sighed in relief, pushing the door to the locker rooms open a little wider so he could duck in next to the girl he’d been sent to track down. “Mme. Bustier was looking for you.”

Marinette’s head snapped up, bloodied snarl on her lips and eyes glinting gold from a recent shift, half cornered animal and half looking for another fight.

Instinctively, Adrien dropped his shoulders and bared his neck, stomach curling and tightening in the same moment.

He didn’t know if he was grateful for being an omega (and therefore a non-threat) or not.

On one hand, there would be no biting.

On the other, there would be no biting.

It was a dilemma.

Marinette blinked once, twice, then inhaled, and the snarl vanished like smoke. “A-A-A-Adrien!”

Yup, that was him. He waved.

Marinette flailed, limbs flying in several directions at once. “H-hey there, hot— uh— babe— owww— cutie— Eek! Ouch— I-I mean!”

Adrien watched her aggravate her fresh wounds with a small wince. Injuries aside, though, it was kind of adorable, actually, seeing her this frazzled — normally she was downright smooth.

“L-looking good?” she finally tried, blushing bright red and still covered in scratches and slashes, laid out in a ridiculous ‘paint me like one of your french girls’ pose that looked like it was putting a lot of undue stress on the bitemark on her arm.

“…Thanks,” said Adrien, smiling a little awkwardly and trying very hard not to look like he was thinking exactly the same thing.

(Marinette was built like someone had thought heavy artillery should come in the form of a teenage girl — compact and powerful and present and confident in a way that made his mouth go dry when she smirked — and if it wasn’t for Ladybug…


Maybe he tried a little too hard, because Marinette was starting to look self-conscious  She looked away and scrubbed the back of her head, the gesture doing fascinating things to her forearms and the way her shirt pulled across her triceps.

“Do you wanna head back?” Adrien asked, ripping his eyes away from her arms only to fall on her face. He winced again. “…Or maybe go to the nurse’s office?”

Marinette sucked blood away from her split lip and grimaced. “…Maybe.”

Adrien offered her a sympathetic smile and a hand up, and she took both, a little self-deprecating and sulking, but ungrudging.

She let go quickly and did a nearly militaristic about turn, eyes darting between him and the exit. “Well! We-we should… get going!”

Still smiling, Adrien said, “Lead the way.”

what you said: werewolf au
what i heard: a/b/o au

*somewhat unsure finger guns?*

send me a ship and an au for a 3 sentence short fic


A hand shot out of the press and closed round her arm like a wolf trap… “Don’t look!” a thick voice snarled at her.
“I… I . I…” Arya sobbed.
The old man shook her so hard her teeth rattled. “Shut your mouth and close your eyes, boy.” Dimly, as if from far away, she heard a… a noise… a soft sighing sound, as if a million people had let out their breath at once.

One and the Same chapter 3

Blood Troubles:

Nico looked at the body and scrunched his nose. The alarm was ringing obnoxiously in his ears as Bianca paced behind him. “Went a little overboard, don’t you think?”

“It was an accident,” she insisted.

“It’s the freaking quarterback,” he snapped. “We can’t hide this.” He put a toe under the teen’s stomach and flipped him over. “Father already thinks I breached the stupid peace pact with the Mystics, and now you’re killing kids at our school?”

“He tried to hurt me!” she shouted. “I only meant to knock him out, but then the blood…. I was so hungry, Nico.”

“I know,” he said. “Sorry. Just stressed. I was on a date.”

Her eyes turned into slits and she snarled. “Look around you!” she hissed. “Look at the trouble we’re in and you’re worried about a stupid date?”

Nico rolled his eyes and hefted the body over his shoulder. “Alright, calm down. We just have to make it look like an accident.”

“What about the blood?” she asked, her eyes turning back to normal. “What about his family? Nico….” She fell to her knees and started crying again.

It made Nico uncomfortable when she was like this. She was the older one. She was supposed to be the one that made everything else make sense. She should have been taking care of him. But there had always been an unbelievable amount of goodness in her. Even as a vampire, a creature made for killing and hunting and seducing, she had her morals. She ate as little as she could, and even then felt guilty.

Nico had been consumed by the long drone of immortality. Years blurred together, decades even. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt guilty about anything. He killed to eat and that was that. Although he usually stuck to other horrible people, he never felt bad.

With a sigh, he put the body down and walked over to her. His hands were stained with blood, though he had no urge to drink it. The merblood was so effective, he hadn’t even craved Will’s blood as badly as he had yesterday. “Bianca. He was going to hurt you. And I have no doubt he must have hurt other girls before. Girls who couldn’t fight back.” She looked at him with her human brown eyes and Nico felt his heart clench. “He wanted to hurt you, Bianca. If you hadn’t killed him, I would have. It’s not that different from what I do. We’re just… ridding the world of the scum they don’t catch. Now come on-”

He cut off suddenly, catching a strange scent. The smell of dog was prominent throughout the school as it was. Many students had one if not more. But this time, the scent was laced with something pleasant.

Wolf blood.

Keep reading

When I say I’m tired what I
mean is that I want to hammer
my body to my bed. As in –
even on the good days 
I want to pretend I’m god,
want to pretend that 
if I just never move 
I’ll go from girl to wolf to stone.

Mother says I’m just lazy
and I laugh until I’m spewing 
blood, until my throat hurts
and my ears are ringing.
I look at her and show my
teeth, and it looks more
snarl than smile.

I am getting tired of writing this poem.
The hurt is only poetic for so long.
After that they get bored
of reading it, and I
get sick of writing it.



Orpheus walks ahead and Eurydice
screams at him to turn around.
When he does, she almost
bursts from the happiness.

—  Week 43 of 52 - The Things I Should’ve Told You (prompt from here) by Darshana Suresh

#and him—jack sparrow (captain) for whom wanting is poisoned honey#everything he has ever wanted is/was/has been/ever shall be comes with a sting in the tail#he wanted a ship and the ship is his doom#he wanted immortality and it took his crew#he wanted the sea and it took his liberty#he wanted his freedom and it made him a pirate#and then here is this girl—this burning wanting desirous determined girl#and she’s terrifying#because everything jack sparrow has ever wanted comes to him cursed#there’s almost a relief when she cuffs him to the mast#he thought it might be worse than a little dying#and at the very least—at the very least he can look her in the eye and snarl ”pirate” because now she’ll know it too#that terrible bitterness the wanting brings (via notbecauseofvictories) (based on this FLAWLESS META)

@iuriis (X)

         ❛ —- Missus Sharify, your tea is getting cold. Won’t you lower your tone and sit down? We are, after all, only people at war and it is inevitable. ❜ He tilts his head, staring at the Persian woman with something akin to perplexity and INNOCENCE. As if CORRUPT blood did not run through his body. ❛ —- Neutrality can by some be perceived the same as siding with the ENEMY. And by God do I wish you are not a Nazi. Or are you? ❜ He takes a sip of his tea.

    Do not act innocent with me, Sinclair, she spat, jabbing her index finger in his direction.  All we did was consider selling oil to them.   Looking down her nose at him, utter contempt in her gaze, she snarled, You gave them Czechoslovakia on a platter!

    Hands slamming down on the desk that separated them, Forough leaned forward.  And while you dithered about and finally decided to make war, we used diplomacy not to sell out other nations but to save people, Sinclair.  Do you know what our friendship with the Nazis allowed us to do?  What you ended with your stupidity? Hm?   Leaning further forward, she shook her head in utter disbelief at the disgusting being before her before partly regaining her composure, voice lowering into an angry growl.  It allowed us to save fifteen hundred Jews - men, women, and children -, Sinclair, while you could do nothing.  Do not talk to me of your weak English tea when the blood of those we cannot save now is on your head!


Heart heavy now at the female’s words, sinking down into his seat of the booth as he eyed her at table height. “No. I don’t start fights. I am good man.” Saying the last part in broken English for some reason, which was unknown– he just poked his bottom lip out from under his upper, his eyes gentle and genuine as he eyed her.

The male may have intended something along the lines of fight for the last piece of meat that was sizzling on the grill in front of them, but he didn’t think she would take it seriously. She had eyes of fury, or at least that’s what it looked like to him, in his perspective. “Take it,” Seungcheol said softly from under his white turtleneck sweater.

Her eyes were on his, looking at him carefully as her upper lip snarled and a small huff leaving her. “First.. why are you talking in english you dumb head.” she said the last two words in english as well, just to match with him and the cute act, cute face the other was giving her was getting to her. If only she now could keep a serious face.

Mayumi looks away, rolling her eyes. “I don’t want it no more, so you just eat it. I’ll just.. order myself more food.” She looked back at him, giving him a wide grin as she reached out to pull the turtle neck away from his face. “Are you hiding from me?”

let me ask you:
how do you find us women weak?

how can you look at persephone,
ethereal and beautiful with flowers
haloing her head like a crown,
knife clutched steadily
between her ivory teeth,
as she drags hades behind her into hell -
as she erects her own throne,
and perches upon it with blood on her lips
and a smile that looks like a snarl,
and call her feeble?

how can you look at aphrodite,
rising from the foam of the sea
with her head held high
and her heart beating a staccato rhythm on her sleeve,
while men stare and groan and shudder
at her beauty,
while men worship and cry out and stutter
at her grace,
and threaten to go to war for her - over her -
and call her powerless?

how can you look at athena,
her bones wrapped in armor 
and her brain stronger than any iron a man could forge,
a goddess born of no mother,
as she stands guard at the helm of her city
with blood on her brow
and her hands fisted into weapons,
as the universe burns around her
and yet she stands tall - stoic - heroic -
and call her fragile?

so tell me, please,
how do you look at the goddesses
from whom we were birthed,
and call us weak?

—  a poem a day [33/365] (h.q.)
  • Rowan: *looks in fridge* Fireheart, did you take the last slice o-
  • Aelin: the last slice of chocolate cake, yes it was delicious.
  • Rowan: *Turns around to her* Aelin! I told you that was saving for me! You've already ate the rest!
  • Aelin: Whoops
  • Rowan: No, no whoops. That was mine! *snarls quietly*
  • Aelin: What are you going to do about it Prince? *smirks wildly*
  • Rowan: This. *playfully attacks with kisses*
  • Aelin: *roars laughter* I love you Rowan, but lets take this to another room shall we?
  • Rowan: *looks at her with hungry eyes* As you wish, *deeply snarls in the back of his throat* *scoops up Aelin while she playfully laughs, into their room* I love you too, Fireheart.
  • source: abraxoswyvernnn

And then a hand shot out of the press and closed round her arm like a wolf trap, so hard that Needle went flying from her hand. Arya was wrenched off her feet. She would have fallen if he hadn’t held her up, as easy as if she were a doll. A face pressed close to hers, long black hair and tangled beard and rotten teeth. “Don’t look!” a thick voice snarled at her.“

I … I … I … ” Arya sobbed.The old man shook her so hard her teeth rattled. “Shut your mouth and close your eyes, boy.” Dimly, as if from far away, she heard a … a noise … a soft sighing sound, as if a million people had let out their breath at once.