roasted human

Feet and Fins

Originally posted by nochuie


Mer!Jungkook au x reader

Fantasy AU, Medieval-ish century

Word count: 11k

Romance, some warnings of “death” and gruesome mentions involved

A/N: after weeks of not posting since of guard stuff and homework, i have brought you guys a jungkook mermaid fic on my birthday :) 


It’s only about twelve, midnight as the clock handles strike at the top and the moon glimmering with its pale and porcelain tinting the world with it’s glow, but that was a sight not many would see as t into bed before hey are tucked creatures of the night came to haunt the town of Marciles. Havoc reeks the scent of blood and the smell of sewage, casting upon traces that the demonic beings left as they raided and swooped villagers from their homes. However, it’s happened only a few days in a week and most lords that were in charge of their areas paid knights to protect the peasants from the grossing amount of pillage and scarring beasts that the fighters would have to ward off. Some of these creatures even own land or travel around, haunting those they passed by like Minotaurs who loved to take upon the gems and women, slicing off limbs and decapitating heads of those who were in the way.

But it hasn’t happened to your area yet, and you didn’t think it was for a while.

Keep reading

yoongi scenario | make me blush

“You look so comfy and cuddleable.” >> Yoongi
 requested by anon


Your boyfriend was never really one for public displays of affection. That’s why you’re shocked when he comes running to you, through the frozen December air, and - oh my G-d! he’s catching you up in his arms, hands finding purchase on your waist, fingers clamping down greedily on fabric. An involuntary gasp leaps from your lips, along with a startled cry of “Yoongi?” and your stolen breath glazes the winter sky above you.

“Sorry, but you look so comfy and cuddleable,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your warmth. He hunts out the gap between your thick knitted scarf and hood, and another breath escapes you when his frozen lips collide with your burning neck. You had regretted bundling up warm this evening, wishing you had picked style over comfort as you waddled down the street, weighed down with wool, and feeling like a roasted, toasted human sandwich. But it turns out being comfy pays in hugs and kisses.

“You’re freezing! How long were you waiting for me?” you ask, gloved hands clumsy, as you unwind your scarf to throw over his white skin.

Yoongi takes up your hands before you can finish the task, seizing the chance to kiss you properly, without bulky wool getting in the way. The shock of his ice-numbed lips against yours prizes your mouth open, and you let every frozen atom of his mingle with yours. You draw out his cold, so that his rigid lines soften, melting and pouring into the shape of your Min Yoongi – the side he only shows to you, in dark, hidden places. Except… that’s not true anymore. Because he’s here. Now. His secret side is showing. Not just showing, but being shown off, for all the blushing onlookers to see: dog-walkers, and children, and joggers, and old women who mutter how they wouldn’t be caught dead kissing like that in public. So what? You don’t care. All you care about is Yoongi, and the warm, breathless creature that makes up the two of you – the creature that defies the ice crystal edges that creep up to bite all uncovered skin.

“Why don’t we find somewhere warmer and cosier?” you breathe as you part, taking a chance to knot the scarf around his neck.

“Anywhere with you is already warm and cosy enough for me,” Yoongi smiles back, crinkled cheeks and exposed teeth half hidden by wool.

You flick his arm as a punishment for being so cheesy, them wrap your hand up in his, and drag him to the nearest café to defrost. Perhaps the cold got to his brain.


A/N: It’s getting cold outside. Please stay warm~

Request a member and a sentence from this list and I’ll write more <3

Favor For a Favor: Mermaid AU

@professoriisms

“Oh, no. Oh, no.”

Clara writhed in the undersea net, her tail beating furiously against the unforgiving knots she was tangled in. How had she been so foolish? Anyone of her kind could see these nets coming a league away–and here she was, to be killed and roasted so humans could feast.

She felt the net start to tug upward toward the surface, and so began forming half-plans in her mind that could ensure her escape.

Perhaps they’ll be startled by me, and I can use that time to get back in the water! But if I couldn’t escape before, going above the surface makes things ten times harder.

Maybe I can move them to mercy. Oh, what’s the use of that one? They won’t let me go if humans kill all other fish.

What if I break the rope? Only if it’s old enough for me to!

She decided to rely on gut instinct as she was finally lifted above the surface, the worst place for a mermaid to be. She opened her eyes as wide as they would go and said in her most piteous voice, “I mean no harm, and nor will my people if you mean the same for me.”

anonymous asked:

When will peri and ame fall in love in your au?

i’ll probably do a few little snippets here and there but the comic where they meet was only to establish how they met and that they’d kept in touch after the woods/donuts. most likely, when they next appear in a proper comic, they’ll already be dating.

i did consider having their relationship be a slow burn that would result in a romance, but i felt like writing an already-established relationship between a werewolf and a human would be more interesting. someone also asked *how* they came to fall in love, and i’d say similar to how they’re doing (i reckon) in the show. they kept meeting up to hang out, made each other laugh, became conscious of each other’s emotions and insecurities, learnt how to talk difficult things through, and of course, a mutual enjoyment of roasting the lil vampire-human hybrid boy.

SoMa Week 2015, Day 4: Dragons

I’m bending (hint, hint) the rules a bit here when it comes to the definition of “Dragons,” but this is one of my favorite fics I’ve written for this week (the other one is “Worth It”). Hope you enjoy!

SoMa Week 2015

Day 4: Dragons


Description: Avatar: The Last Airbender AU. Soul is a Firebender in Lord Ozai’s army. Maka is an Earthbender in an area of her kingdom occupied by Fire Nation troops, but she refuses to leave her home. Both are mere teens that have been rendered parentless by the war. (Maka’s POV)


There are many legends concerning dragons. But in all the stories, the gigantic fire-breathers seem to fall into one of two major categories.

In the first category, dragons are noble and protect people. Some bring good luck, some guard royalty, and others use their mighty powers to fight for good and justice while giving humans some insight into a dragon’s great wealth of knowledge. One such dragon was said to be Avatar Roku’s companion.

However, on the other hand, different tales say that dragons are monsters. They bring fierce destruction, attacking and roasting humans. They burn down entire villages at the slightest provocation, and hoard treasure and food for themselves. In those stories, everyone cowers in fright if they even suspect that a dragon might be near. They fear for their lives, but some fools deny the evidence of the imminent danger of dragons. Those are the ones that die first.

Firebenders claim that they learned their Bending from dragons. That may or may not be true, but if they inherited their tendencies from dragons as well, then dragons must be terrible creatures.

For Firebenders surely are monsters.

Keep reading

Notes for the Zodiac

Dear Aries woman,
You’re smart and unique. You have all you need as soon as you see that others aren’t out to take it away. Don’t hide and don’t boast don’t judge and don’t roast. You’re a cosmic human, don’t compare apples and oranges.

Dear Aries man,
You’ve been through a lot. Your scars are what make you interesting, not what make you broken. Keep fighting with those gorgeous ram horns. No one can tame you, but yourself.

Dear Taurus woman,
You are formidable and beautiful. You are articulate and generous. Forgive those who do not align with your passionate world views, for they’re better off having your company than they ever would be without it.

Dear Taurus man,
You stand proud like a mountain, but you aren’t an island. The support of others doesn’t lessen you, try to understand they aren’t always capable of your steadfastness. The more compassion you have for your own flaws, the more forgiveness you can offer others. Grow your circle as you grow your heart.

Dear Gemini woman,
You are a bubbly fountain. You are an episodic human, don’t try to stick to one page to manage your mania. Let your soul runneth over, but don’t lose your copy of the whole book in the process.

Dear Gemini man,
It’s okay to not always be stimulated or stimulating. You can prove your mad intelligence in time by respecting the speed of others. You’re uniquely informative, but keep perspective as your good looks will confuse people into not seeing the true you. Self awareness is wisdom, meet this fact and you will be amongst the brightest stars.

Dear Cancer woman,
You’re perfect, but don’t be too hard on those around you for not living up to their potential. You’re clever enough to not let that big heart get taken advantage of. Remember to make art as you nurture your responsibilities. You’re your family’s biggest fan.

Dear Cancer man,
Deep as the ocean, but not as mysterious. You tell it how it is, and you get burned. That burn sets your heart aflame for years. Use your water to put out the fire so that it can be used for your highest good, because you’re a good friend’s biggest fan.

Dear Leo man and woman,
Oh Leo, lovable as you are, you destroy people with very little effort or remorse finding your way. The craziest thing, is no one holds it against you for long. Remember your power, use it wisely, you’re not a victim. You’re a warrior, and a fun one at that.

Dear Virgo man and woman,
Your capabilities are exclusive. Not everyone can do what you can do with as much consistency. However, some don’t always see how much love for others is behind the process. Your efforts are always well worth the selflessness, but try to acknowledge that not all of us can tend to details so scrupulously.

Dear Libra woman,
You’re charming beyond your ability to decorate yourself and the world. Sometimes you can be a silly peacock, not everyone is out to steal your feathers. You can be the queen, and make room for princesses. But only allow for a worthy King, your gifts are too priceless to squander.

Dear Libra man,
You’re one of the most graceful and elegant in the Zodiac. Your gentleness is your best gift, next to your appreciation for style. But don’t float too far away into your own imagination to see the ground.

Dear Scorpio man and woman,
You’re devoted. You’re interesting. You’re a deep mystery. Don’t underrate what you’ve got going on. You’re gentle spirit is big enough for all the challenges you face.

Dear Sagittarius man and woman,
Your humor puts wind in others sails. You’re a glowing light when the world is dull. You’re a diamond in the rough, but that’s what makes you so brilliant. You’re not stopping until your fully cut. You work well with other Sagittarians, but don’t let the two of you go hating all those who can’t keep up.

Dear Capricorn woman,
You’re sublimely sweet. You’re maternal energies can be morphed into ambitions for the world. Never stop charging ahead, with humility, and make room for those who don’t bend your spoon along the way. They can be a teacher too.

Dear Capricorn man,
You exude something. You’re a flame for moths, but still real. You don’t have to try, you just are. In all this being-ness, sometimes you disappear to another realm. That realm excludes the ideas that are less than just and moral. But individuals are not ideas, see them for what they are.

Dear Aquarius woman,
Baby, you’ve got to let up every once in a while. Everything’s so full, and you’ve been baring the tears of your fellow Zodiac for so long in that heavy vase. Let theirs wash down the river for a while, and don’t swim in it. Let your own water flow, and you’ll find a bath you can fly away from. After all, if you want to be a bird, you have to choose freedom.

Dear Aquarius man,
Thinker of great thoughts. Holder of existential power. You don’t need acclaim to validate your special brain. You know what you’ve seen and felt. Believe in yourself, and be kind. Your mind may be humanitarian, but sometimes your actions take on a life without you while you’re ruminating on existence.

Dead Pisces woman,
There’s two fish here. One is the hearth of all. You’ve got coal in your pockets to keep the temp up. People crave you so much, that sometimes you have to remind them you’re human. Especially after you run off to warm others… Second fish, you can be a bit like a confused self-satisfied Virgo.

Dear Pisces man,
You’re drifting away on a plume of your own desires. You’re feminine energy mixed with your masculine swag confuses even you as you go on your mystical journeys. Your passion for world enlightenment is your biggest strength, but don’t forget you’re still human.

anonymous asked:

Why is it bad for a teen girl to date someone 20 years older than them. Isn't that how evolution would have it? Fertile girls being protevted by strong, financially stable, mature mates?

does the word ‘power imbalance’ mean anything to you.

And ah yes evolution, which is why we eat our young in the face of danger. do you really wanna go down that path me because I can assure that way pain lies. And it won’t be mine. 

anonymous asked:

Imagine Jamie and Claire after they made up their differences about the punishment at Leoch. Claire is helping in the kitchens and Jamie keeps trying to steal a kiss, but keeps getting thwarted by Mrs. Fitz.

Note: Liv, Gotham, and Eloise decided to write this prompt together, so the part in normal writing is Liv’s, the bolded part is Gotham’s, and the italicized part is Eloise’s. Hope you enjoy!

The Leoch kitchens teemed with the preparations for the approaching holiday. There was scarce an inch to spare between the melee of baskets, food, and bodies, and the last of these had been seemingly thrust into whatever space was left available. A cocktail of roasting meat and human sweat – the product of such close quarters and a blazing hearth – hung like thick smoke in the air. The winter gales blowing through the open windows were the only relief from the heavy stickiness of the room.

My own brow was sprinkled with perspiration as I kneaded ball after ball of dough. Grown bored with the cleaning and restocking of my surgery, I had come to the kitchen in search of more rigorous distraction. Mrs. Fitz, the conductor of this entire production, was more than happy to oblige – and promptly charged me with the task of baking Christmas cookies. An hour later, my arms had begun to ache; my hair and skin gradually whitened by flour. Domesticity, I had come to learn, was far more demanding than most gave it credit for.

I looked self-consciously to my side but saw no men among the busied crowd. Not surprising – most of them would be mucking about in the woods, slaying beasts in vapid displays of masculinity. I rolled my eyes, thinking of my husband and the inevitable wounds I would discover upon his return.

A man of perfect timing, I immediately felt Jamie’s hot breath in my ear.

“Sassenach,” he drawled, “ye look like a virginal bride, all coated with flour as ye are.”

“A sweaty, virginal bride,” I retorted, nose wrinkling at the scent of alcohol. “Have you been drinking?”

Jamie grinned.

“Aye. A bit. Colum was verra generous with his Rhenish after we presented him wi’ five boar.”

“Mmm,” I said, still rather uninterested by the whole spectacle.

“But I’m done wi’ the drink, Sassenach. In fact…” Jamie’s tone turned suggestive. Though I tried to remain focused on the task at hand, I felt my stomach flutter with excitement. “Now I’ve a taste for flour and new brides.” His tongue ran up the side of my neck, and I sighed.

“Where’s yer husband, lass?” he whispered then. “Has he no’ done his duty by ye?” Jamie began imitating the movement of my hands, massaging the curve of my hips and traveling slowly downwards.

Jamie suddenly pressed closer against my back – pushing out my breath in an unexpected huff. Well then, if he wanted to play with fire –

“Jamie? Can ye no’ see she’s busy, lad?”

I looked over my shoulder to see Mrs. Fitz’s tiny hands trying to shove Jamie away from me. I felt him sigh against my back before he stepped to the side, taking a place to my left, leaning back against the table, pinned in place by Mrs. Fitz’s sharp gaze.

“I was only saying – ”

“I dinna care what ye were saying, lad. Claire’s got a pair of verra strong hands, and after she’s done I have hundreds of wee loaves to knead for the supper that you’ll be attending later tonight. Not to mention two or three boars to roast – ”

I wisely turned back to the dough.

“ – and pheasants to stuff and cakes to bake and the lads need to sweep the Great Hall and make sure there’s a bucket beneath every table in case some puir sot canna make it to the privy in time and –”

Jamie raised his hands in surrender. “I understand. Can I help, then? Maybe help Claire get a head start wi’ the kneading?”

Mrs. Fitz shrugged, resigned. “I suppose. Mary!”

A small girl whose wavy yellow hair was tucked beneath a white cap suddenly appeared. “Aye?”

“Can ye bring some of the bread dough to Mr. and Mrs. Fraser here?”

The girl nodded and reappeared within moments, heaving a heavy wooden bowl onto the tabletop with a dull thud.

Mrs. Fitz dismissed the girl with a wave of the hand and stepped closer to Jamie. “Now, lad. Ye must form a good-sized ball between yer hands, like so.” Quickly she grabbed a fistful of dough and smoothed it into a palm-sized ball before laying it on a fresh tray. “Just do as many balls as possible, aye? Have yer wife help out when she’s done wi’ the cookies.”

“Aye, Mrs. Fitz,” he replied – only to find that she’d already flitted off to another area of the kitchen.

Jamie turned to me as I tried – and failed – to hold back a grin.

“Dinna say a word to me, Sassenach,” he warned. “I canna – ”

“You can’t what? Make any balls on your own? Or ask your wife to make sure your balls are the correct shape and consistency? 

Jamie let out a bark of a laugh.

“Weel I dinna have any compunctions about asking ye ta check my balls,” he rumbled, pressing himself against me once more and running his hands down my sides, moving steadily back until he sought what he was looking for, “and really, it would only be proper for me to show my wife the same courtesy.”

“Hmm proper, to be sure.” I replied a touch breathlessly, reaching for another ball of dough. He hummed in contentment, hands lightly squeezing and releasing my arse.

Though I had promised Mrs. Fitz my help, I was becoming increasingly aware of just how hot it was in the kitchen with all of the ovens running full blaze and the tight press of bodies. One of Jamie’s hands inched began to inch down my skirt, and I abandoned any pretense of work.

A giggle from beside us brought me back to my senses, reminding me that we were in fact not the only people in the room.
Jesus, I had been within seconds of letting him take me in the midst of a busy kitchen, and I hadn’t yet indulged enough to be able to blame it on alcohol. I removed his hands - despite his low noises of Scottish disapproval - and quickly filled them with a ball of dough.

Jamie stared at it as though it were a particularly offensive object. “I think this is more along the lines of the kneading Mrs. Fitz had in mind.” I prompted, turning back to my own work to demonstrate.

With a small “tsch!” he tipped the dough back onto the table and returned his hands to their original position.

“I dinna much care what Mrs. Fitz had in mind.” He replied, pressing a kiss to my neck.

“Christ, Jamie, we’re not exactly alone.” My breath was coming shorter and my head spun.

“Are ye sure the cookies are meant te have sage in them, Sassenach?” He murmured, lips once more at my ear.

In my distraction, I had in fact managed to incorporate some nearby sage into the shortbread cookies I was rolling into shape.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” I exclaimed, hastily picking out the soft leaves. At this rate, I was likely going to be more of a hindrance to the feast preparations than a helping hand.

As usual, Jamie echoed my thoughts with unerring precision. “Ye seem a wee bit absent-minded, Sassenach.” He commented lightly, his hands making their way up my body. “And ye’re all flushed. Perhaps ye ought to get some fresh air.”

I grabbed his hand before it could reach my breast and lead him to the nearest exit.

Damn the cookies.