Ensemble is a collection of furniture items that is designed with ease of assembling and carrying in mind. It was created by the moving needs of the owners of Mexico based Duco Lab. The wooden parts are made of Poplar or Tzalam wood. The steel parts are made of powder coated sheet metal.
A/N: I got the name from one of the clothes shops of Saints Row V lol. I plan on making at least two more parts to this, I’m halfway through part two and have the beginning of part three in the works! ^_^. I’m sorry if there’s any misspelling, I get too excited and I tend to rush. Feedback is hella appreciated! - D.
Let’s Pretend: Tony finds a website of two shape shifting mutant porn stars who make their living impersonating the Avengers on their website and decide to show the team.
WARNING: Graphic details of sex. Swearing. Soon-to-be-smut. Second hand embarrassment lol.
8:30 showed on your phone as you sat at the hotel lobby bar. A pianist played classical music in the corner of the room softly. The piece sounded familiar, but you couldn’t focus on the harmony. Your legs were a little chilly on the metal chair in your olive dress. You pulled down the hem wondering if it was too much for tonight; you told him to dress up, but you wondered if what you had on was too much.
Did it matter anyway? He was now fifteen minutes late at a 30 became a 31 on your clock. The bartender almost passed you until you caught his attention.
“Dirty martini please,” you told him, tapping your coaster.
He nodded before starting to make your drink. Your patience was wavering. He hadn’t texted you or messaged you about being late or on his way. A simple text just saying, “traffic is horrible. be there in five,” would suffice.
Your drink was delivered faster than you thought it would, but there was still no one walking into the hotel. You were the only one at the bar. Some had come to get a drink, but they were swept away by others, and that’s all you wanted. You wanted to be swept by someone; you wanted someone that demanded your attention but you always demanded theirs.
“Scotch, straight,” a man dressed in a suit and tie said as he walked up behind you to order. He laid down some cash next to your drink; you weren’t an expert on the price of a scotch, but you were sure he laid down too much, “and hers as well,” he finished.
A/N: Happy American Assassin premiere weekend and happy belated birthday @stilinski-jpeg! I really hope you guys enjoy the ending to this series that I have grown to love so much. Thank you for all of the support, all of the kind comments and all of the love towards it. Because of your never ending positivity, I have decided to make a sequel series to this. I don’t know when it’ll be out because I still have a lot to plan, but there already is a title which I won’t say because then it’ll be a spoiler for the ending of this one lol. Thank you for reading, I love you guys so much.
Once, when I was around the age of twelve, I almost drowned to death and I remember it like it had happened to me just yesterday. I was swimming around with my closest friends in the world, one of them being Nia. We all played in my pool and were having the times of our lives, not knowing what would be happening in the following seconds as I accidentally slipped and hit my head on the edge of the pool. Immediately getting knocked out, my entire body fell limp into the water.
No one had realized there was something wrong and I was forced to suffer alone. The only thing that surrounded me was absolute darkness. I could hear my friends laughing and playing amongst themselves, but I couldn’t actually see them. I remember feeling like my head was on the verge of exploding as the lack of air left me in complete agony. Everything burned and I had never felt more miserable until, finally, someone noticed me and pulled me out of the water. They breathed life back into my lungs, my eyes eventually opening as I felt the darkness disappear away. Instead, the sight of a worried Nia hovering over me as she performs CPR on me took over my vision.
That moment of complete torture is exactly what I’m going through right now, but this time Nia isn’t here to pull me out of it.
A/N; Eeeeek! Here it is guys, chapter 1! This story has me so pumped and i’m so happy you guys liked the intro. I hope you guys like this chappie, cuz it’s a bit of a giant relief haha. ENJOY! - Delilah
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x POC Reader
Haunting Me: Y/N is a normal young adult living in New York, but little does she know that she’s a reincarnation of the long lost Bucky Barnes’ fiance from the 1940′s. What happens when she runs into Steve in 2012? Most importantly, what happens when she runs into The Winter Soldier?
You focused on the pencil in your hand, shading the paper as carefully as possible.
New York was beautiful in the summer time, especially once the sun hit the right spot in the sky. It wasn’t a cloudy day by any chance; in fact, there wasn’t a single cloud in sight. You sat in the metal chair, your legs crossed beneath you as you focused on the sketch in front of you. You reached for the pastry on the plate next to it and took a small bite out of it, chewing slowly.
You enjoyed your time alone, as you always did, especially when you got to sketch the totally gorgeous Calvin Klein model sitting two seats down from you.
Okay, he probably wasn’t a model, but he sure as hell looked like one. He was built like a brick house and those eyes. Jesus –you could get lost in those ocean blue orbs of his. From what it looked like, he was drawing as well. He could draw and look super-hot while doing it? He was a rare gem. However, as you cocked your head to the side, curiously studying his features, you couldn’t help but notice how sad he looked. It made your chest ache just seeing him brood like that.
“Another brownie ma’am?” the waitress asked with a smile. And by the grace of god, the total hottie looked over at you. You blushed, looking up at the waitress with a timid smile.
“Um. No thank you.” She gave you a quick nod before walking away.
When you looked back over at the mysterious blond, you expected him to give you a small smile and continue throughout his day, but boy were you wrong. You looked back over and to your surprise, he was openly staring at you, his blue eyes widened with an odd mixture of fear and shock. He blinked rapidly, his eyes focusing on your face shamelessly.
Immediately you felt so self-conscious. Was there something on your face? Did you creep him out? Oh god, did your eyeliner smudge. You had a habit of rubbing your face whilst drawing and you did forget you were wearing makeup sometimes.
After a few minutes of being stared down by the man, you had quite enough. You hastily packed your sketch book into your bag and placed a few dollar bills onto the table before standing. You swore you could feel the burning of eyes on your back as you stealthy maneuvered around the sea of people.
Before you could take another step, you felt a tight grip on your arm stop you.
“What are you doing?” you exclaimed, turning around with a scowl. You reached in your pocket for your pepper spray.
“I-I’m sorry!” The man sputtered, his eyes softened once he peered around at the many people watching the two of you. There was a small crowd surrounding you now and you felt so embarrassed, yet relieved. He wouldn’t dare try anything in public.
You yanked your arm back, holding it in your wrist. “Why are you following me? Do I know you or something?” your last question caused him to frown. You could practically see the wheels turning in the man’s head as he chose his words carefully. He sighed heavily, before his eyes travelled down to the bag in your hand.
“I uh…noticed you drawing earlier and I wanted to say how nice your shading technique was. That’s all.”
You blinked, your eyes widening. He did all that for a damn compliment? Who was this guy?
“Thank you,” you replied, which came out more as a question. Soon, the people around you began going about their day once they realized there was no harm being done to you. Leaving the two of you standing in the middle of the busy sidewalk.
“My name is Steve,” he smiled, holding out his hand for you. “Steve Rogers.” You raised your eyebrows. That was a bit of an older fashioned name, but you weren’t complaining. Your mom tried to name you Jane once before your birth.
“I’m Y/N,” you replied, gently taking his hand and shaking it.
As the next couple years went by, you and Steve became two peas in a pod.
Wherever you went, he went. At first, you found it sort of creepy that your best friend was following you around town all the time, showing up at your apartment in the middle of the night when the Stark tower got too much for him and he needed a place to sleep properly. After a while, you just assumed the man was a bit lonely, which was fine by you considering you were, too.
There were times where you two would just stay up all night watching old movies from his time. His favorite was My Darling Clementine, which you had seen so many times that you now knew the entire film’s script by memory.
Soon, Steve began accompanying you on your trips to art galleries for school. It was a win/win for you as he always attracted so much attention being the hot shot Captain America he was, also, he eased the storm of anxiety that you struggled with your entire life. Steve was your wing man.
But there were some times when you felt that maybe Steve wanted to be more than friends.
You always thought of him as a brother figure, but the way he would look at you whenever he thought you weren’t noticing, it had you a bit confused. It happened when you were watching the old movies. He would look at you from out the corner of his eye, watching your reactions closely. You figured it was because he had a thing for you, which you didn’t return.
You had a couple boyfriends here and there, but nothing special. And Steve, bless his heart, had completely unapproved of them all.
But whenever you would sing along to your favorite song, Over the Rainbow by Judy Garland, you would see the look even more. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something about that song probably caused unpleasant memories for him. You wondered why.
Another time you got The Look, was when you smoked. It was a habit, yeah, one that you’ve had for far too long. Every time you would be out and about with him -which was always- and you lit up a cigarette, he would immediately scold you until you put it out. You loved Stevie, but you were a big girl. You could make your own decisions.
You were lounging on your couch, watching old reruns of Seinfeld, when a loud banging on your front door causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. You looked over at your phone.
Steve was currently on a mission, or so you thought. Who on earth could it be?
You sighed, standing up from the couch and made your way towards the front door. You flung the door open, expecting to see Steve standing there with a box of pizza like always, but instead you got something way, way more complicated.
“W-What is going on?” you asked, eyeing the two other Avengers beside your best friend.
Steve let out a sigh, giving you a guilty smile. “These are my uh…coworkers.”
You blinked, staring at him with wide eyes. Coworkers? Really?
“May we come inside?” Natasha asked as she clutched her shoulder tightly. Her face was twisted into a grimace as she tried to cover the obvious gunshot wound in her shoulder. Your eyes widened.
“Of course!” you jumped, reaching forward and gently placing your hand on her back, and guiding her into your apartment. She let out a groan when you touched her shoulder.
“I think I’m gonna need a new shoulder.” she said.
You placed the cotton swab on Natasha’s shoulder, gently dabbing the fresh stitches you had applied. She was lucky to be alive, the bullet barely missed a major artery. A couple more centimeters and she would’ve bled out in seconds.
“So are you guys gonna tell me what the hell happened?” you asked, turning around in your chair to face Steve, who was seated on your couch, his body bruised and battered from the obvious fight.
Whoever they ran into managed to put up on hell of a fight.
“His name is The Winter Soldier,” Natasha chimed from behind you. She avoided your eyes as she spoke “He’s Hydra’s top assassin. He’s killed over a dozen elected officials and other people as well. We ran into him earlier.”
Steve continued to stare down at the floor, his face in a distant frown.
“What does that have to do with Steve? What happened?” you asked eagerly.
“We just found out that this so called Winter Soldier is actually Steve’s best friend, Bucky Barnes.”
Your eyes widened. You were so confused. Steve never mentioned anyone else in his life except for his mother and father. He always told you he was on the lonely side, but…he had a best friend apparently. An old best friend from over seventy years ago.
“Who the hell is Bucky?” you chided, furrowing your brows at Steve. How could he have not told you? You and he told each other everything.
“Bucky Barnes was considered KIA in 1942 when he fell off a locomotive during a mission to capture the evil scientist Arnim Zola.” Sam informed as he reloaded his pistol.
“And now, he’s alive. And brainwashed, completely wiped of his memories of Steve.” Natasha finished, taking a sip of the glass of orange juice you poured her a few minutes ago.
You felt your chest ache.
Why couldn’t Steve feel like he could tell you about Barnes? You guys were so much closer than the average friends.
You turned back to Steve, only to find him on the couch with his face buried in his hands. His breaths coming out in short huffs.
You made your way over to the blond, bending down until you were eye level with him. He looked so broken, yet you had no idea what he was going through. You’ve never lost anyone before. You had no idea who this Winter Soldier was, but if it meant reconnecting two old friends, you were more than wiling to help Steve.
You gently pulled Steve’s hands from his hair and brought them down, revealing his tear stained face. You smiled up at him, hope shining in your eyes.
“Whoever this Bucky guy is,” you began, looking down at your entwined hands. “He must be a special kind of man for you to go these lengths. We’ll get your friend back, Steve. If it’s the last thing we do.”
Steve felt his heart shattering even more as you spoke. Nevertheless, he offered you a false smile, hoping to distract you from the internal pain he was facing. To his relief, you bought it.
He watched as you went back to Natasha and began placing the bandages onto her wound, your face set in a concerned frown.
Everybody was born with a soulmate. It was part of everyday life. There were shows dedicated to the meetings and ensuing romance and passion between soulmates but not every part of the situation was good. Once your soulmate was gone you didn’t get another one and living alone outcast you from society. Everyone lived in fear of the day the voice in their head would disappear forever.
You lived in fear of losing your soulmate. Watching your mother deteriorate into a barely surviving shell after your father was killed in a car crash left a streak of fear that chased off any loneliness. You dreaded the day you would meet the voice in your head because you knew once you fell you’d never manage to crawl back up.
Over the years you’d perfected tuning him out and lived a life like that of your best friend Minnie. She’d lost her soulmate at the tender age of eleven and had just gotten along with her life. Your voice was usually silent anyway, well it had been for over two decades until around six months ago when you’d started hearing a low gravelly voice commenting on your everyday life. It was unsettling to say the least, especially because it was so sweet. The temptation just solidified your resolve to avoid him at all costs. Losing him would kill you.
You were locking up the coffee shop you owned after a busy day. It was just down the street from the former Stark Tower and got a lot of tourist business. All those strange people who liked to sit outside and watch the doors hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the avengers. Personally you’d never seen the appeal but that may just be because in the battle of New York your cute little shop had been blown to pieces. You were allowed to have your bias though especially when you’d actually met Tony Stark once and the experience was less than pleasant.
He’d come into your shop a few months before he went missing and ordered everything on the menu just to spite his friend. When you and your girls had finally finished running around and getting all of his drinks set out on the counter he’d just smirked and raised a brow at his friend before throwing a wad of cash on the counter and strolling out empty handed. It wasn’t the arrogance that pissed you off, it was the disrespect towards you and your staff that made you swear you’d never serve him again. Apparently he’d changed but you were sceptical. A douche of that proportion would never change.
You set off walking to your apartment glancing around instinctively. It was still early evening but it was too quiet. Goosebumps raised along your arms and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. Crossing your arms, you began to walk faster. Something didn’t feel right.
What’s wrong? His deep voice sent shivers down your spine. You crossed your arms and marched on ahead determined to dismiss him and the silly notion that something was wrong.Look I’m sorry for whatever I did but I can feel your fear. If you’re in danger please just tell me. I can help. You snorted to yourself in derision. Who did he think he was? You didn’t need some knight in shining armor to save you from the chilly evenings of Manhattan. It’s a dangerous city doll. That didn’t change. You just carried on forward, at least until you saw someone move out of the corner of your eye. You grabbed the compact from your coat pocket pretending to check your makeup whilst looking behind you. A few men were stood talking together. Looking at you every now and then. This could not be happening. This sort of thing only happened to idiots who went out alone at night. You sighed with a scowl.
Shit. What? I think I’m being followed. Fuck. Where are you? You weighed the risks for a second then thought: I’m not telling you that, who the hell do you think you are? This is not the time for misplaced pride Y/N, please just tell me where you are.
Sweat gathered at your temples as you flitted between your choices. Put yourself at the risk of getting half of your soul torn away or see what what would happen if the creeps behind you caught up. It won’t be anything pleasant doll and I’ll have to hear it all through here. I can’t bear witness to you getting hurt. You looked behind you before you made your decision and saw one of them smile at you with full teeth. His eyes were dead.
You bit your lip as your resolve hardened further. I’m just passing Star-Avengers Tower. What?! Really? Go inside right now. Your brow furrowed at his tone but you ducked through the rotating doors anyway. All of the gimmick stores and odd shops were closed but you walked over to the cafe in the corner anyway and sat down on one of the uncomfortable metal chairs left out. The receptionist gave you a funny look but continued with her work. Figured, she must be used to a lot of weird shit happening around here. Oh, you have no idea.
You watched the windows to see if your stalkers would walk past but the streets were empty apart from the odd straggler getting into a cab. It was actually more unnerving having them out of sight.
Suddenly a large man in workout clothes vaulted over security and ran towards the doors. He was beautiful in a rugged sort of way and you couldn’t help but be transfixed by his long dark hair swaying with his movements. You didn’t even process the metal arm until he spun around and scanned the lobby. His eyes finally landed on you but you were staring at his arm. The place where it met his skin looked seared and painful. That must’ve been excruciating. It was. Your eyes snapped to his in shock.
“James!?” You shrieked in disbelief. He nodded and walked over to you with a strange sort of cat like grace. You noticed his footsteps made no noise. At all. “How-what-are you kidding me?” You sputtered. “What are you doing here?” You looked him over again “Dressed like that?”
He pulled up a chair and sat opposite you perfectly composed. “I live here doll.”
an au (inspired by this post) in which Annabeth is a mob boss and Percy is her ocean photographer boyfriend. Shout out to Hannah for being the best beta ever and for headcanoning this au with me pretty much non stop for the last few days.
The fluorescent lights of the interrogation room flicker, giving it a strange glow that makes Percy’s eyes hurt. His fingers tap the beat of some pop song that had played on the radio earlier today onto the metal table that sits in front of him. The table is cool to the touch despite the warm, stale air that hangs in the room, and the accompanying metal chair is starting to make his butt numb despite it only having been here ten minutes.
Shuffling sounds begin emanating from the door in the corner of the room across from Percy, and soon it creaks open. First to step through is a tall blonde man with piercing blue eyes. His athletic build fills up the doorway as he pauses briefly to appraise Percy. Percy appraises him right back, noticing a scar on the corner of the detective’s lip and half of a tattoo that peaks out from under the cuff of his sleeve.
As soon as the detective steps into the room, another enters behind him. Her posture is impeccable and she walks with her head held high like she’s a warrior entering battle. That can’t be good, Percy thinks afterwards. She has on a royal purple blouse that pops against her brown skin, and her black hair is pulled into a braid that cascades over her shoulder.
“Hello, Mr. Jackson,” starts the blonde detective. “I’m Detective Grace and this is my partner Detective Arellano. Thanks so much for agreeing to come down to the station today to talk to us today.”
Percy smiles with a calm confidence, “Of course. Always happy to do my civic duty.”
request: Hey love, can I request StevexReaderxBucky? All early 20s. Reader works with law/business. She was close with Bucky or Steve(you choose) growing up/in high school. But they just lost touch. Reader meets Steve/Bucky for the first time & they live in the same building. Reader finds out either one/both Steve & Bucky are strippers. Maybe readers inexperienced but flirty (sleeps w/people she likes). Nat & Reader are sisters- they’re both gorgeous & close.
pairing: steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes
word count: 6017
warnings: smut, threesome, oral (male receiving), fingering, breath play, praise kink, stripping, small amounts of dry humping
a/n: 9 pages and five hours later! also changed a few aspects of the request so the fic worked well.
The moment you walked through the entrance of your apartment complex, you knew something was different despite not knowing what it was. You tried to push the feeling away as you made your way to the elevator smiling at your neighbours as you did, you may have been tired after a day of hard work but nothing stopped you from being polite to those around you.
As soon as the elevator doors opened with a ding you quickly scurried your back against the cool metal wall and your head leaning back as you let out a long sigh. You were beyond tired as well as beyond annoyed, your boss made you stay at work two hours later than usual and you were exhausted. All you wanted to do was go to your apartment and crawl into your bed and sleep until you woke up the next morning for work.
@lumenlight prompted me, “Sterek AU where Stiles tries to seduce Derek but Derek has the habit of only dating older people (Jennifer, Kate …). So he says no to Stiles and Stiles is really disappointed but by chance he keeps seeing Derek and with time Derek realizes that he may have made a mistake?”
Hope you like it!!
~4000 words, rated M. (I don’t usually write smut, but I felt like this was that kind of prompt.)
Stiles usually doesn’t venture as far out of town as the Preserve—there’s not much out here but trees—but today that’s kind of the point. If he’s going to start up a jogging regimen to prep for lacrosse in the fall, he’s sure as hell not going to do it in his own neighborhood, where all his neighbors can (and will) watch him flailing around looking stupid.
He doesn’t actually end up jogging at all, though, because before he finds the trail he’d marked on his map, his Jeep abruptly sputters and dies on him right in the middle of the road. That’s also about when it starts raining.
“Oh, come on,” Stiles groans, hitting his head on the steering wheel a few times.
He pulls out his phone to call someone—his dad, a tow truck, Scott—and there’s no signal. Right. Because he wanted isolated, and he got it.
There’s no sound at all except the drumming of the rain on the roof of the Jeep, coming down harder and harder, taunting him for being such a fucking idiot.
He thinks about waiting it out, but who knows how long that could take, and if he doesn’t make it back home in time for dinner or at least get somewhere where he can make a phone call, then his dad is probably going to think he got eaten by a mountain lion or something.
“Fuck it,” he mutters. He pockets his phone and keys, grits his teeth, and jumps out into the downpour.
He has to walk for about twenty minutes before he finds any sign of civilization. It’s a house, or at least part of one. It’s tucked away down a long dirt driveway on the edge of the Preserve and looks sketchy as hell. It’s been burned, badly, and even though it looks like maybe someone’s been fixing it up, it’s still not exactly what Stiles would call habitable. Part of the charred roof is caved in, and most of the windows on the second floor are shattered, their jagged glass gleaming ominously in the dim light and the rain.
Stiles would assume it’s abandoned, except that there’s a shiny black Camaro parked out front. That at least looks well cared for.
It’s that detail, plus the rather compelling fact that this is probably the only house for at least a mile and Stiles can feel his feet starting to rub raw in his wet tennis shoes, that finally gives him the courage he needs to squelch his way through the mud and onto the porch to knock on the door.
“Lance. Come in, Lance.“ Shiro’s commanding voice rang in his ear.
“What’s up, boss man?“ Lance answered with a casual tone that always annoyed most of the paladins.
“Where the hell are you, Lance?“ As if on cue, Pidge snapped at him in their comms.
Lance grinned at the Galra soldier he managed not to kill during his infiltration in one of the control rooms. He shot both of the Galra’s knee caps just to be sure the alien won’t run away from him, and for the sake of precaution, Lance decided to tie the Galra up in one of the metal chairs in the room. And because he felt like it, he stuffed the Galra’s mouth with some cloth he cut out away from one of the fallen Galra soldiers on the floor.
“I’m in one of the control rooms, Pigeon, cool your jets.” Lance whispered. “I’m a bit outnumbered but I can handle a couple of Galra soldiers on my own.” He even panted for added effect. They had to believe that he’s a little preoccupied so they’ll leave him alone, so he can do what he was known for back on earth.
“Are you sure, bro? I’ll be there in a few minutes if you need some assistance.“ Hunk, the bestest friend he could ever have, asked.
“Nah man, I can handle a few of these aliens. Besides, you and Keith have a mission. Protect the mullet head, yeah?“ Lance continued to whisper, shooting a few blasts from his bayard to sell his story even more. “I gotta go, guys, I think I just got found out.“ Lance pressed a button on his helmet which cut off his frequency away from the team. It was an altercation he made himself and no one seems to mind not hearing from him, so Lance figured why not.
“Now, we’re alone.“ Lance took off his helmet and placed it on the control board. He shook his head and massaged his scalp, his hair finally out of the confines of hi sweaty helmet. He made his way towards the Galra soldier who glared at him, yellow eyes glinting. “Comfy?”
The Galra mumbled against the gag in its mouth. Lance simply took another chair and sat in front of the tied up alien that was his prisoner at the moment.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Lance reached forward, “Ooh what is this?” He brushed his fingers against the Galra’s pelvis, which made the Galra groan and saliva dripped past the alien’s lips, and took hold of a hilt of a blade.
“I didn’t know you have one of these.” Lance inspected the wicked sharp blade, the black and violet surface catching the light, giving it an eery glow. He wielded the blade from side to side just like what his older brother taught him, slicing the air with finesse and speed. The Galra stared at him, not believing the way lance wielded a bladed weapon.
“You must be wondering where I learned to do this.” Lance continued to slash at the air but he was now slicing closer and closer to the Galra’s blown up knees.
“Wanna know a secret?” Lance leaned forward, his hands on either side of the Galra’s head, caging the alien.
“I’m a Salazar.”
Lance smiled, a smile he rarely used these days. This smile was the kind of smile he only wore when he’s at home, where violence and mind games were raw, there is where he thrived and showed his colors. The smile- a predatory show of teeth- he always wear when things are about to get messy and go Lance’s way. It was a the Young Demon’s smile.
Lance sighed in relief. There was something liberating from saying his family’s name, something every Salazar needs to be proud about. It’s like he never left the vast household that was his home.
“That name may mean nothing to you, but back on Earth?“ Lance languidly played with the knife, mere inches away from the Galra’s face. “The mention of that name can make grown men tremble in fear. But I guess here in outer space, the Salazar name doesn’t hold that much weight. I’d like to change that.“ He swiped the blade against the Galra’s face, drawing blood.
“Shall we begin?”
“I repeat,“ Lance situated himself between the Galra’s legs, the knife slicing through the Galra’s purple fur, digging deeper and deeper as he dragged the knife across the alien’s chest, “the Champion was captured with two other humans, one was even brought to the fighting pits. Where are they?“
“I have told you over and over again, Blue Paladin, I do not know! Please, please, I do not know. Please believe me.“ The Galra, Joras, begged. His yellow eyes were dull and wet with tears.
“I want to believe you, Joras, believe me I do.” Lance stopped his slicing and sighed at the alien. It’s time, he thought. Lance laid his hand against Joras’ cheeks with enough tenderness to calm a frightened lamb before the slaughter.
Joras nuzzled against Lance’s palm. Hook, line, and sinker.
“But I checked your credentials, Joras. You are one of the major generals in the Galran forces. You were the one in charge of the Champion when he was in the fighting pits.“ Lance wiped the tears that were flowing down the Galra’s furry cheeks, and cupped Joras’ face with his hands. “So you are either lying to me or you take me for a fool.“
Lance looked at the Galra in disappointment and frowned. He leaned in and kissed one of the slices he made on Joras’ cheek. “Which is it, Joras?”
“I-I…“ Joras refused to look at the Blue Paladin, confused on what to say.
“I get it. Really I do.“ Lance lifted his leg and placed it on Jora’s side, straddling the alien who spluttered when Lance sat comfortably on Joras’ lap. The earlier venom in Lance’s voice as he cut through Joras’ skin was gone and was replaced by a warm, velvety smooth tone that washed away Joras’ fear. Small comforts, he thought. “Most people take me for a fool, and I don’t blame them for it. I suppose it’s my fault for letting them think of me that way.“
“No! I take you not for a fool!“ Joras didn’t know what came over him for suddenly exclaiming what he was thinking, but the frown on the Blue Paladin’s face was gone which urged him to speak more. “You have successfully infiltrated this control room, one of the most secured control room in this ship. You have killed all of my soldiers who were the top of their class and was handpicked by me. And you have me between your legs, Blue Paladin, you have me bruised and bleeding, begging you to have mercy on me. You are no fool.”
Lance didn’t expect Joras to break easily that’s why he took his time with him. He remembered his brother saying: “There’s so much more to torture and acquiring information, little brother. It’s not just punching, slicing, and stabbing- though those methods get the job done. There’s a certain elegance to it.” At first he didn’t understand what he meant, but as time went by, he started to understand the intricacies of torture.
Lance learned that pain was only one of the methods you can use to break people. There were other means to make people talk, his brother stated as he typed in his laptop. And he found out that the best and full proof plan of action was to mentally and emotionally break them. Lance learned that pain and blackmail can only take you too far, that harming or intimidating a person doesn’t make them break. So Lance found a new method of torture, a method that works in his favor.
“Thank you, Joras.“ The Young Demon smiled. “But that doesn’t answer my question. I need to know where they are. “ Lance cupped Joras’ face and tilted it up so he can meet his eyes. “These people, they’re important to me. Don’t you want to make me happy? Don’t you want me to smile again?“
He can see the hesitation in Joras’ yellow eyes. He was there, he’s on the midst of breaking, he just needs a little push.
“Please don’t make me hurt you. I hated hurting you, Joras.“
The best way to break people was to make them care. Make them give a damn about themselves, about you, about your purpose. It doesn’t matter as long as you involve them in the process, make them feel that you care about them too. So that’s what Lance did.
Every time he sliced Joras’ skin, he apologized. When he punched him in the gut, he had to explain why he was doing it. When he buried his finger in the hole he made on his knees, Lance expressed reluctance to do it. He made the Galra feel that he was forced to do this, that it wasn’t his choice to hurt him. He made him believe that by sharing what he knows, he’s stopping the hurt that’s inflicted on them both. Lance made him care.
“Data pad.“ Joras whispered, “I promise you I do not know the people you speak of, but with my data pad and my clearance, you can search through the prisoner database from the time the Champion was captured to when he escaped.“
“Really?“ Joras nodded. He was clearly relieved when lance put away the knife but there was tension in Joras’ shoulders. “See that wasn’t so hard was it? All I wanted from you was information. I never wanted to hurt you, Joras, you should know that. “
Lance stood up to fish out the data pad from Joras’ suit. He turned it on and was not surprised to see that it doesn’t have a password. He was far from understanding the Galran alphabet but he was pretty sure their resident techy can figure it out. He placed the data pad inside his body suit’s pocket and went for his helmet.
“Thank you for your help, Joras. Really, thanks a lot. I know this may sound cruel but know that I have the right intentions in mind. Do you want me to kill you?“ He didn’t put on his helmet just yet. He simply held it in his hand while his other hand fiddled with his bayard.
Joras looked at him funny, but his shoulders were trembling again.
“I know you know what’s coming to you. Zarkon doesn’t appreciate snitches, just look at what happened to Thace. And what’s worse, Zarkon will just dispose of you like you were nothing. He will erase all of the things you have done in service to the empire, let people remember you as a traitor.“ Lance gave all that he had to not laugh right in front of Joras’ face. The strong and mighty Galra he met moments ago was now broken, shaking and scared.
“But if you die now, die on my hands, I can make it painless. I will let the entire universe remember you as the Galra who helped the Blue Paladin rescue the humans that ended the war against Zarkon. You will die a hero, Joras, don’t you want that?“
Lance already knew the answer but still he waited for the Galra to give his consent. It was the least he can do.
“You will make them remember me as a hero?“
“Yes, Joras. And even more.“
Joras looked dejected. Lance can see the resolve in his eyes as well as understanding. He knew that it was pointless to live when the moment the Paladins of Voltron leave their ship, he’s as good as dead. The higher ups will check the cameras and see that he was tortured, they’ll even hear him confess to Lance about his data pad. He will be dubbed as the Galra soldier who was tortured by the Blue Paladin, who begged for his life, an embarrassment to the Galra as a whole.
“Alright. It was nice to meet you ,Blue Paladn Lance. It is an honor to die on your hands.“
There you go. What do you think? I admit it’s a little messy but there’s something with an evil Lance that I quite like. I’m a sucker for evil geniuses and even more for Lance so why the hell not.
(All of this is from this book that I made a post about. Authors: Raven Kaldera & Tannin Schwartzstein. This is from chapter 4, Internal Hygiene: how to not get ugly)
The problem with smudging is that it always involves smoke. People with asthma or sensitive fire alarms may want to use a different method. The nest most common purification method is baths. You will need a bathtub for most of them, although we will include shower formulas for those of you with only shower stalls.
Soothing, calming, and brightening for depressed days. Also good for getting one in a romantic mood, not just before the a date but when the magic is going out of a long-term relationship due to stress and exhaustion. You can either use floral oils such as jasmine, rose, lavender, or apple blossom, or use live flower petals. For the destitute, check dumpsters behind florist shops and pull the petals off the discarded or bruised flowers. You will need at least two cups of flower petals. If you’re worried about clogging the drain, put them in a bag (even an old t-shirt with the holes knotted shut will do) and float them in the water. If you like them floating around on the water, put a piece of fabric over the drain when you let the water out.
Cook the herbs into a strong tea on the stove and pour them into the water. Simmer, do not boil. Suggested herbs include sage, rosemary, thyme, tarragon for courage, ground sandalwood for sensuality, bay leaf for warrior energy, or mint and eucalyptus to promote physical health. Resins will not break down when boiled. If you want to use a resin, you must add the essential oil or absolute (resin tincture).
For this, you need to brew up one to three gallons of a strong tea. Take your shower first, like you normally do, and then at whatever temperature you can tolerate, dump the pots of water over your body. These teas can be boiled and set aside in gallon plastic jugs for when you want them – in the hot summer, you may want to dump them over you cold. Don’t keep them for more than a week and check them frequently for nasty, green floating things or bad smells.
Yes, baths can be done in an apartment, if you have big pots and a stove. Fill all your large pots with boiling water and add herbs or oils. Fill the tub half full with the hottest water you can get from the tap and place a chair in the tub. (If you use a metal chair, rest your hand on it before sitting down to test the temperature. If it I wooden, make sure you have a place for it to dry out afterwards. Avoid padded chairs as they will absorb moisture and get mildew.) Then, pour the boiling water and sit on the chair, being careful not to touch the water. Relax in steam until water cools.
The White Bath
Famous in Afro-Caribbean traditions. It is associated with this Orisha (deity) Obatala, who represents justice, compassion and healing. The most common ingredient in a white bath is coconut milk, usually canned, since if you use real coconuts, you’ll have to split a lot of them. Other suggestions are baking soda, or sugar, or a few drops of vanilla extract, or powdered milk. Powdered moo-juice will last forever and may be carried with you anywhere. You can combine any or all of these, but no more than two cups of material per tubful. For dissolving purposes, make sure the water is pretty hot. Soak for as long as you need and then rinse off with the shower. Lighting white candles around the tub is also good, as is coconut incense.
Although you will want to rinse off at some point, we recommend that you wait at least twenty minutes before rinsing, in order to let the energy of each bath soak into your skin as you get up and move about. It’s traditional, though not necessary, to wear only white for the first few hours afterwards. (A really big t-shirt works well.) If you hate white, you don’t have to wear it, but please, whatever you put on should be clean and freshly laundered, and also have clean towels ready to dry off with.
A/N: Here is my contribution for Smut Appreciation Day: Vol. 2. I can’t believe it’s been a year since the first epic day. I want all of you to tag me in your filth while I’m at work today, and I promise I will read ALL of them when I get home tonight. Please let me know what you think. Happy reading (and masturbating)!
Word Count: 3,615
Warnings: - smut. this is very graphic. - if you don’t like reading about sexual situations, abort now. - this is a threesome and can also be viewed as a polyamorous relationship between Sam, Dean, and reader. - there is no wincest in this fic. - language. - always wear a condom, kids!
Tags: (at the end)
*gifs are not mine.
The three of you were covered in mud from head to toe. This particular hunt had gone a bit south, due to the unexpected rainstorm that had decided to fuck with your mission. Dean protested the entire way home about the state his interior was currently in, constantly pestering both you and Sam to keep your boots off the floor. Although you’d accomplished what you’d sought out to do, all of you were bickering back at forth at one another like children the entire ride home.