the flaming urge



gets a lil’ steamy at the end ;)

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She sat in the middle of the Salvatore living room, a warm log fire crackling behind her and sending up flickering orange embers. She was in the middle of the lounge, legs folded over the plush carpet, head bent down in concentration, a thin layer of sweat gathering across her brow. She wore old and ripped black skinnes with a plain white tee, her hair tied up in a messy knot atop her head, strands sticking out here and there. A series of curse words tumbled off her pouted lips, her eyes fluttering open as she growled and grabbed the unlit candle in front of her before promptly sending it flying across the room and smashing into the wall. She breathed in the warm and woody scent of the open room, coming to her feet and narrowing her eyes as they landed on a concerned looking vampire.

“What do you want?” she snapped at Damon before blowing a piece of hair from her eyes.

His dark hair was messy, smoldering eyes avoiding hers, glass of bourbon in hand, as usual.

He pursed his lips, fingers fidgeting, obviously nervous as he responded, “I know you’ve been having some trouble getting your magic to work…”

“And?” she stood her ground, toes sinking into the fluffy carpet.

“I know I can’t really do anything to help you,” he started.

Her brilliantly bright eyes narrowed, and she bit at the inside of her cheek with worry, “you didn’t.”

“He can help you.”

Her heart dropped in her chest, anger flaring as she took three strides forward with her eyes locked on his shameful expression. Suddenly, the glass in Damon’s hand exploded, sending shards everywhere, and liquid pouring across his front. It sliced red into his skin, which healed itself at once, but didn’t wipe that shocked look off his face.

“You still want to tell me you have everything under control?” he growled under his breath.

She turned her back to him, eyes closing as she took in a deep breath, instant guilt settling in, hands running agitatedly through her hair.

“Look, Damon, I’m sor-” she turned back, eyes coming open and landing on someone who was most certainly not a Salvatore.

“Hey, princess.”

Kai was bent against the wooden door frame, arms folded across his chest, blue eyes drinking her up with a flick of his tongue against his rounded lips. He wore a dark tee with a bluish grey flannel, and it matched those eyes, she thought. His hair was perfectly smoothed up, eyebrows raised as a familiar smug expression settled across his infuriatingly perfect features.

“Kai,” she growled.

“Don’t sound so happy to see me,” he said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

“I’m not,” she insisted.

His eyes narrowed, and he smiled to himself, “mhm, sure.”

“I have this under control,” she said, eyes pulling away from his.

“Say it one more time, and you might actually believe yourself,” he chuckled with a couple steps forward.

She clenched her jaw, and it pulsated lightly as she did her best to keep grounded.

“Aw, did I make you mad?” he said, picking up on this as well as the flare of her cute little nostrils.

“Leave,” she breathed, refusing to look at him.

“No,” he responded, coming closer to her, only a few steps away now.

“LEAVE,” she demanded, the fire in the grate flaring up to twice it’s size as she said it, her anger flooding into her magic without ease.

Suddenly his hands were on hers, fingers locking gently around her wrists, the familiar buzz of magic from his skin sending electrical currents into hers. As he held her, he worked her through the rush, and the fire slowly sunk down, resuming it’s natural glow and flicker after only a second. She took in a raspy breath, eyes opening again to meet Kai’s, her body going into overdrive from the close contact.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, gulping down the lump in her throat.

His lips twitched lightly before splitting into his familiar and goofy grin, “your emotions,” he smiled, dimples lighting his cheeks.

“What about them?” she asked, aware that his hands were still resting against her flesh.

“They’re all over the place,” he said. “That’s why your magic has been all over the place. Your emotions make you have this lack of focus that either results in you doing too little or doing too much.”

“Oh,” she said with disbelief.

He shook his head and dropped her wrists with a chuckle, “you can’t stand when I’m right.”

Kai waved his hands, and the broken candle reformed and zoomed back into place on the carpet, still flameless. The girl sunk onto her knees to sit on the carpet, and Kai towered over her and walked circles around her like predator after prey.

“Light it,” he commanded.

She shot a glare up at the heretic, who only winked in response. Sighing with exasperation, she focused back on the candle, mind buzzing as she urged a flame to appear, feeling more hopeless by the second when it remained stagnant. She bit her tongue, trying again and taking a sharp breath in when absolutely nothing happened.

“That’s what I thought,” Kai said, stooping down to her level.

“Going to mock me?” she hissed.

“No,” he blinked in surprise, sounding genuinely honest.

She didn’t say anything, she only pursed her lips and gave a small nod.

“Relax,” he encouraged softly, “don’t work yourself so hard.”

Kai trailed a finger in the air, and as he did so her hair came undone and went spilling in loose waves across her shoulders. Then he traced a little swirling motion with his slender fingers, which caused her shoulders to settle and body to ease into relaxation. The pressure on her chest seemed to lift, the heat inside of her dissipating. He nodded, approving of his work and smiling at her adorable and confused expression.

“Good,” he said, moving around to come behind her.

Kai got on his knees behind her, the tiniest of gaps between their bodies as he sunk into her back, hands wrapping around her body from behind and sliding up her arms, cool silver rings grazing her skin as his fingertips drew gently to her palms.

“Close your eyes,” he breathed soothingly, “and try again.”

So she did. Her eyes closed, fingers separating as she took in a deep breath. But as she did so, Kai’s overpowering scent entered her lungs, and her mind instantly went into a haze as she drowned in the smell of pine trees and dark spices. His soft flannel wrapped around her as he did, and she couldn’t help but find herself wanting to bury her face into the cozy fabric that pressed into her. Worst of all was that feeling of his chest pressing hard into her back, his heart thumping softly as his breath came trickling across her skin.

“Y/N?” he asked, giving her wrists a gentle squeeze. “What’s wrong?”

She tried with all her might to ignore Kai and get the flame to spark, but it wouldn’t budge.

“I’m having trouble…focusing,” she mumbled under her breath, eyes closing as she gave another attempt.

She could almost hear the smirk in his voice when he responded, “why’s that?”

She tried to formulate a clever response, but was met with nothing, so chose to ignore him. She shook her head, eyes narrowing as she embraced Kai’s closeness rather than getting distracted by it, and just like that-

“Impressive,” he smiled.

A flame burst to life, flickering gold and red and dancing side to side.

She let out a happy little giggle, “it worked!”

“See? Your emotions,” Kai persisted.

“Or I just figured it out,” she said to the candle, fully aware that Kai was still wrapped around her.

“Magic is driven by emotion, little witch,” he purred softly into her ear, “and if you don’t believe it when I say it, maybe you will when you feel it.”

Kai’s voice had dropped low, and her eyes latched to his momentarily, her head turning to the side as his eyes darkened. The heretic pushed his hands further down, so that his fingers now came lacing through her own, his magnificent blue eyes darting between her own eyes and lips. He bent in closer, force fully pressed into her backside as he breathed across her skin.

“It can be driven by joy, anger, sadness, and even…” he trailed off.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, heart hammering as he dipped his lips inwards.

“Desire,” he finished.

He let her make the decision, which she didn’t think for two seconds about before delving into his lips. Her mouth came crashing against his, a new wildfire starting, but this one inside of her body. Kai squeezed her hands as he rocked his hips lightly into her backside, earning a soft noise of approval from her. He liked the sound a lot, he wanted to hear it again, he thought. Their lips worked in sync, fast and hungry, but this position not being enough for her, she flipped the heretic onto his back and climbed over his chest, straddling him as she shook her hair back and brought her hands sliding across his chest. His hands went flying up, cold rings to her flesh as he went about seizing her head and forcing her back down to his lips, her own hands finding their way into his brown locks. Each brush of their flesh sent a wave of ecstasy like magic into each other’s bloodstream, the need to taste and feel it all rising in their chests. She rolled her hips softly against him, causing Kai’s mouth to fall open, at which point her tongue found it’s way into his mouth. Kai growled with hunger, mouths refusing to part as they both kissed until they had no breath left, each waiting to see if they could hold out longer than the other. His hands went sliding around her thighs and squeezing them roughly, about to hook into them when the two were suddenly aware of a burning sensation. A huge ring of fire had erupted from the candle alone, the magic bursting out from her because of her hunger and lust being all over the place, and it now swarmed their bodies, engulfing the carpet and crawling closer. The girl cursed, having no idea what to do as she stared at the fire with panic, but then she felt Kai’s slender fingers trail across her cheek, and she looked back down at him. He signalled to take a deep breath with him, so she did, closing her eyes and focusing on him, opening them soon after to a fire-less room. Kai blinked up at her with admiration, a proud smirk forming on his lips, blue eyes crinkling with knowing.

Fanfic: good comments / bad comments

Since it just came up in an ask, I thought I’d share this little list with everyone. These are all super-short comments I have received on some of my stories at some point. All of them instantly made me feel better, so trust me guys: there is no such thing as “too short a comment”:

Oh God no I’m crying 

me @ the joker: die 

Absolutely phenominal!! 

What a fun ride 


Great story!

This was great. 



Love this.


D: D: D:


Fuck yeah Alfred


Seriously, every single one of those made me feel happy and fuzzy when I saw them, because that means my stories moved someone enough to give their own input on them. Let me make this clear for everyone: the length of your comment says nothing about its quality. Short comments can be super-good.

The devil is in the content. Here are the only four kinds of comments that I don’t like:

  • flaming, i.e. offensive, insulting, derogatory behavior - will be deleted upon sight
  • non-sense spamming, i.e. ads or completely unrelated nonsense like “my cat just had to go to the vet” (okay, sad for you, but wtf does that have to do with the story?) - will be deleted upon sight
  • shameless self-promotion, i.e. “hi, great story, I wrote a Jay & Dick piece too: [link]” (seriously, if you want me to read it, at least ask politely and don’t feign interest in my stuff just so you can get views; it’s tacky) - will be deleted upon sight
  • genuinely appreciative comment, but also demanding and pushy (basically only reads “y u no update?” between the lines) or completely misinterpreting the way I write the characters/relationships/story (this is how I feel every time I get asked to write quick, superficial H/C with Arkham!Jay, because I consider superficial treatment of PTSD an insult to real-life PTSD survivors; same thing with gratuitous violence/rape/etc.) - will still be posted and receive a “thank you” in reply, but nothing more.

I hope this clears things up a little.

anonymous asked:

I wanted to request where, Mc and Jumin are getting pretty close (like the early days on his route) but then she seems to remain platonic to him much to everyone's confusion given how they seem fond of each other, and one day someone asks her in the chat and she says 'since Jumin said he felt uncomfortable around women, i didn't want to make him uncomfortable' and it's like a misunderstanding because he does want to be close w/ her, so he sees the message and clarifies w/ her that she's diffrnt

- contined from last ask, -clarifies with her that she’s different and then they have a romantic moment?

Sorry this took so long anon T_T Also lol what is consistent writing style? I want to play with something different-ish. I hope this is romantic enough, I don’t do a lot of super mushy so I had fun doing it! Usual sorry to mobile people, I’m putting a cut to conserve space.


This incessant burning inside him would never be quelled. Each smile and giggle from the woman he was burning for just pumped more fuel on it, her gentle words of comfort dousing him in gasoline that flared up even more potent than the time before. He was melting from the inside, melting at every touch and glance and word. Everyone knew it. Jumin prided himself on his ability to keep his icy facade through all things, and now, she melted it away, bit by bit. They had become so close over time, she listened to every word, responded to it, asked more of him. His raw emotions were polished by her, by her kindness and patience and now there was one left untouched by her. Just one left, one that was new and exciting but she wouldn’t touch it, wouldn’t let him show it to her as he wanted to. So he burned from the inside, internally combusting at every small detail until soon nothing but that one raw emotion would be the embers of the man he was.

The other members of the RFA had tried. They sent him soothing “Good lucks” and kind pity- even Zen. He didn’t want any of it. He wanted something to extinguish this flame. They poked and the prodded at MC, trying to find a reason without giving away any information; it was useless, however. They called him soft - soft towards her. He hated that word, soft. It was for weak men and fools, neither of which he would ever associate himself with. If he was soft, she was hard. She was stone, never melting under the heat. He could express anything to her and she would accept it, but not this. They could not share this emotion that softened him like a marshmallow left in the sun.

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A Time To Cast Away Stones

By TheRiverScribe

Summary:  Sam’s body was slowly unraveling in the weeks since Gadreel’s forced ejection. Castiel’s own borrowed grace dwindled in strength with each passing day. And Dean had the Mark of Cain, which seemed to lend the bearer power at the cost of their humanity. They were all running out of time.
Word Count: 
Characters:  Sam, Gabriel, Castiel, Dean
Pairings:  Sabriel (Gabriel/Sam Winchester)
Rewriting Rev Y1K Challenge Prompt:
“This is not a courtroom, there are no grounds for objections here.”
Gabriel Monthly Challenge Prompts:

“All that bravado, all those witty comebacks…Just to hide how terrified you really are.”
“My life consists of bad puns and candy.”
Gif of Gabriel, shifts between him looking a sad-wet-puppy in color to a dark-fierce-archangel in bk/wt with stylized golden halo

Read it on AO3, or continue below!

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Isaac Lahey | Mercy

Count of words: 1007

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, multiple (two) orgasms

a/n: OK WHAT DID I WRITE? HOW DID I WRITE THIS? OMG! I just hope you like it… Also finally made a masterlist

writer: @lucifers-embodiment-imagines

anonymous asked:

Can you write an Isaac Lahey smut imagine based on mercy by Shawn mendes

anonymous asked:

Daniel smut

You’ve got a hold of me, don’t even know your power. And I stand a hundred feet, but I fall when I’m around you.

You never saw it but you had a hold of Isaac’s heart. You could control his emotions with the change of yours, maybe with a smile or a simple whimper. You didn’t aknowledge the situation but he didn’t quit mind. He liked how you brought out his soft side and were confused when everyone told you, you should stay away from the heartless wolf.

Truth be told, he had a heart. It was still beating right behind his chest but he kept hidding it away. He would always stand tall, keep an armor all around him but it would fall every time you were near him. Man, you were doing things to him. Things he tried to avoid but also things he wantd to show you.

Everytime you were around him something clicked in him. He was imediatelly turned on wanting to do inappropriate things to you, not that you minded. The thing is he was not like that because you were perfect, had the best curves anyone could have or something, no. It was not that you where dressing suggestively either. Even if he saw you in sweatpants, messy hair, no makeup on, glasses and a baggy sweatshirt he would still feel the same.

Show me an open door and you go and slam it on me. I can’t take anymore.

It was this cold summer night, the rain pouring outside. I mean the weather was plain tricks on you but you didn’t quite mind. The only thing on your mind at that point was Isaac. Just a couple nights earlier you had this huge fight and hadn’t talk to him since. You were still mad at him, you didn’t know why anymore but you did.

As your thoughts had been traveling through the ever ending ocean of your mind a knock on the door made them sink into the back of your head till you could go back to it. Carefully you opened the door only to be met with someones chest. Looking up you realised it was the person you were trying to avoid the most. “I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath gently placing his palm on your cheek. Quickly you removed it and slammed the door closed. He didn’t knock again and for a while you thought he was gone but then he opened the door with ease as realisation hit you. He had a spare key. 

He didn’t say anything and neither did you all that happened was intimate eye contact. He felt his skin burn and his face flame up as the urge to take you right there and then was unbearable. But he couldn’t keep it inside any longer. He lunged to you, picked you up and started kissing you passionately. “What are you doing to me?”

I’m saying baby please have mercy on me. Take it easy on my heart. Ever though you don’t mean to hurt me, you keep tearing me apart.

He walked the two of you up the stairs and found his way to your bedroom. It was not long until your clothes were completely teared apart and you were left on your underwear. His hands were playing with your hair as he was kissing down your neck making his way to your stomach. He thought it was a good idea to tese you and that’s exactly what he did. He first removed your bra exposing your breast as he started caressing one and leaving lovebites to the other. He did the same to the other breast and then moved down. He made his way to your core leaving sloppy kisses along the way. And the it was time for the fun to begin. His lips started kissing your core over your underwear, allowing Isaac to taste your wetness. His hands massaged your inner thighs getting closer and closer to where you needed them the most, while he kept on kissing you there. You whimpered underneath his touch and he stopped to look at you. “Now, don’t rush baby girl. We are playing with daddy’s rules tonight.” He said with a smug look on his face and then went back to work. He kept on kissing your core over the soaked fabric untill he decided they were in his way. He slowly removed them and went back to kissing. He was also gently sucking your sensitive skin making your eyes roll back and your insides churn. He did this a couple more times until you came undone. 

After licking you clean Isaac went back on giving you pleasure but this time thinking of his self as well. He kissed his way up to your face, lustfully kissing your lips and with one swift move he entered inside of you. The pleasure was too much and the thing that you were sensitive from another orgasm made it unbearable. “You won’t cum until daddy does,” Isaac said as he slammed his member inside of you once more when you nodded your head. “Wrong answer kitten. Now what do we say,” he said in a deep voice. Yours was trembling as you said “Yes daddy,” and he slammed into you harder this time. He continued his ‘excersise’ for a while longer as he finally cummed and you followed suit.”I love you,” he whispered and it was the first time these words came out of his mouth. “I love you.”

This situation kept going of for a couple of months. You would fight, stop talking for days, bang, get back togeather and repeat. It became too much for you and this time you were going to confront him about it. 

“You do this everytime!” You yelled at him. “You tell me you love me, we fight for something stupid, I cry for days, we bang and you thing everything is ok again. It’s not ok. I’m not ok!” You yelled at him as tears fell down your cheeks. “Just have mercy on my heart.”

How the Batboys would react to their s/o dying the same way they did- Tim Drake

Two more parts!!


Your fingers flew across the keyboard, rapidly hacking into the drive that Tim gave you to look over. He was working on a case that involved a new robotics manufacturer that has been supplying a few villains in Gotham. You had no idea why this guy was only focused on bringing Gotham down, but that’s Tim’s job to find out. You were the tech nerd who was in charge of finding a way to shut down all of the manufacturer’s products before they harm innocent bystanders. It took awhile, but you were able to get past the firewall and sort through the encrypted data. You quickly scanned through the information until a file caught your eye. You opened it and quickly called Tim, hoping that it wasn’t too late to tell him what’s about to come.

“Did you crack it yet, beautiful?” Tim asked through the comm.

“Yes, I did, and you need to tell the rest to get away from the devices now!! They’re rigged to bomb all of the villains that were supplied, and I need everyone out of the way so I can hack into them and get them away before they blow up Gotham,” you explained rapidly, hoping that there was enough time.

“I’ll contact everyone! Stay safe!”

“You, too,” you said and shut the comm off.

You leaned back into your chair and sighed. You knew that it was going to be a pain in the ass to program the bots to steal all of the equipment and get away from any populated parts of Gotham, but you had to do it unless you wanted lives to be lost. You sat up and started typing orders, hoping that they would be enough to save everyone. When you inputted the last code, your screen went black. Your eyes widened at the sight and you started typing again, attempting to stop the hacker from preventing you from finishing your job.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” an altered deep voice spoke through your speakers.

Your fingers froze at the sound and your heart started beating rapidly. You glanced over to your black screen and quickly went to cover your camera, knowing that the hacker could see you through it.

The hacker chuckled, “I don’t need to see you through that little camera to know what you’re up to.”

You glanced over to your comm and quietly grabbed it, hoping that the sound wouldn’t notify the hacker of what you’re doing.

You quickly activated it, but muted Tim’s comm, “So who do I owe the pleasure of hacking into my stuff?”

“Just the man whose tech you’re messing with,” he stated and your screen started to boot up again.

Different coding started to appear and no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop it. You went to pull out the plug, but a bullet hit your shoulder. You screamed in pain and placed your hand on your shoulder, landing on the cement floor. You really regret having your base in an abandoned building right now. You groaned and scooted up against the wall, taking cover from the shooter.

“I would like to say thank you for finding me a better target than those mediocre villains, but I’m not that type of guy,” he said. “Say goodbye to your little birdie before you’re blown to bits.”
You unplugged your computer’s plug from the outlet, but knew it was too late. Tears were starting to form, but you knew that crying wouldn’t help you in this situation.

You unmuted Tim’s comm and said, “Tim, stay away from the base. I know that you’re at least in the middle of Gotham right now. Please don’t send your family to get me. It’s a suicide mission.”

“There’s no way I’m doing that, (Y/N)!!! I’m closing in right now, and Bruce is by my side,” Tim shouted through the comm.

“Tim, it’s too late,” you whispered.

You glanced outside your window and saw all of the drones and bots heading straight for you. You knew that you had less than a minute until they would reach you, so you decided to make the most of it.

“Remember when we first met?” you asked with tears streaming down your cheeks. “You dumped your coffee all over me and you were a mess.”

You let out a laugh and wiped the tears from your eyes, “Promise me you won’t be like that when I’m gone.”

“(Y/N), there’s still time for-”

“I love you, Timmy.”

“(Y/N), don’t-”

Tim stopped when he saw your base explode into flames. Bruce urged him to continue running until the flames were too close. When the Bat Wing dumped retardant onto the building, Tim immediately ran into the building, throwing caution into the wind to find you. Bruce’s voice went unheard by Tim when he finally found your semi-scorched body slumped on the wall, knowing that the impact of the bomb knocked you from your original spot. Your hand was clutching onto the necklace he had bought you for your first anniversary. He moved your fingers out of the way and saw that the coffee charm was untouched by the flames. He removed the chain from your neck and clutched the charm, vowing to find the person behind your death.

somewhere in outer space―

a/n: au after 4x07/ or that time I wrote a klopeley roadtrip fic. also a bit of a longer fic than I usually prefer but still readable. enjoy!


Marcel runs away because he decides the pressures of being king are overwhelming, and losing his daughter and his good friend Cami was just too much for him. Not to mention the fact that his entire life is falling apart, and the people who used to be his family kind of hate him right now.

(And he’s not sure where he’s going, except that he keeps going).

Hayley takes it upon herself to track him down.

She drags Klaus along, mostly because well he’s his father…sort of. Or like his brother-in-law, after the whole Davina and Kol fiasco. Unless he looks at it from the perspective of Marcel and Rebekah’s relationship.

Yeah, they’re are all over the place, he knows. 

And it’s not help that Hope insists on accompanying them as well.

“Sweetheart,” the original hybrid softly says, with a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “You should stay with your Uncle Elijah and Auntie Freya, you’ll be much safer,” he reassures her.

Then, she pulls her infamous pout.

“But I wanna find my friend,” Hope argues. “And you need a witch on your side, don’t you?” she attempts to convince him and, although she made a valiant effort, Hayley just had to intervene.

“Hope,” the she-wolf firmly says. “Listen to your dad,” Hayley orders.

Klaus can’t say he doesn’t feel a weird tingle whenever she refers to him as Hope’s ‘dad’. Even though that is his role, just hearing Hayler say it made him lose his trail of thought.

“No,” Hope grunts. “Marcel is my only friend, I’m not going to stay behind while he could be in danger,” she exclaims, dragging her tiny suitcase with her and her stuffed wolf.

Klaus releases a fond laugh. “She’s stubborn,” he says, remembering all those times Hayley insisted on accompanying him on his rather dangerous missions. “I wonder where she got that from,” he smirks.

“Very funny,” Hayley rolls her eyes as all three of them hop into the family jeep.


Hope is restless during the trip. She sings along to the radio with her mother and they blast Aqua’s ‘Barbie Girl’ almost one-hundred and forty-three times before Klaus finally presses a button and turns on The Beatles. He doesn’t mean to be an old fart but honestly, this was so much more soothing. And it put Hope right to sleep.

(Hayley pretends she doesn’t notice him humming along the lyrics to ‘Michelle’ and almost dozes off to the sound of his voice).

(Hours turn into days and she tries her best to stay away while Klaus is driving.

Hayley knows he doesn’t sleep at night, if not for his terrifying dreams about Marcel’s dungeon, it’s surely also because he’s worried about his son. Some crazy part of her thinks that maybe it would bring him some comfort to know that she’s there with him. That, if he stares out into the darkness long enough, he’ll be relieved to see those same tired eyes looking back at him).

And they inevitably get lost.

Klaus is bull-headed and hates asking for help. While Hayley spends too much time checking her Instagram and not paying attention to the road. Her excuse is that she’s keeping track of Marcel’s pictures for clues but, so far, all he had uploaded was an old photograph of Cami and Davina.

With no location indicated either.

“You followed the map wrong,” Hayley sends Klaus a dark glare as he rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t,” he replies, sounding a bit high-pitched. “It’s not my fault Marcel keeps changing locations,” he supposes that’s the answer, since every time they asked Freya to track him down, she claimed he had some other witch put up a barrier spell.

“Or maybe you’re just no good at following directions,” Hayley sneers, with a tone that sounded a tad annoyed.

“I’ve lived for over a thousand years,” he reminds her. “I know how to navigate using just the stars, you really think I’m likely to get us lost?” the original hybrid explains, as he’s headed in a straight line to somewhere and nowhere.

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anonymous asked:

For DWC: “don’t you dare fucking let go!”

Garrett Hawke x Fenris (background Sonja Hawke x Anders), for @dadrunkwriting

Fenris knows the rules. He will respect them, even as it kills him to do so. Hawke can win this fight, he tells himself. He will. Because the possibility of losing him, even as it becomes tangible before wide green eyes is simply too painful, too terrible a world, to consider. He will not cost Hawke his fight by violating the rules and agreement the other made with the Arishok, the elf thinks, gauntlets biting slightly into his palms where his hands have curled into fists.

So he holds himself back from rushing to the other man’s side as Anders does the same with Hawke’s elder twin, even as Sonja is spitting and hissing like a feral cat, struggling against her lover’s grasp, fighting desperately to break free and reach her brother. The gash in Hawke’s side where the Qunari leader has managed to deal a serious blow bleeds profusely as the elf looks on helplessly with the rest of their band, a crimson stain just above his right hip is quickly spreading across his robes. Fenris had bitten his lip to hold back his shouts of alarm and horror when it had happened, refusing to distract and possibly bring the mage any further injury. The elf’s mouth tastes faintly of copper now, lip bleeding from effort, but fenris is scarcely aware of it.

“Run,” Fenris whispers eyes growing impossibly wide as he recognizes the Arishok’s stance. Hawke is a powerful mage, Fenris is well aware, but he has never had the occasion to see him fight alone. Never had any desire to. He’s even less so now he has come to realize just how important the other man has become to him. “Run, you stubborn fool,” he mutters shaking his head, as the Arishok readies himself to charge his combatant.

But Hawke doesn’t move. The mage doesn’t give any indication of even noticing what the Qunari plans. Instead, one foot sweeps in a slow and deliberate circle to tuck in behind him as he rolls up his sleeves, muttered incantation lost in the large halls and hushed whispers and gasps of the onlookers. With an angry bellow the Arishok rushes forward towards him. Hawke ignores him, continuing his spell, magic suddenly lighting up the tile beneath his feet with a magical rune. Finally, at the last possible moment, Hawke drops to the floor and rolls just out of the way of the oncoming warrior’s attack, ducking behind the nearest pillar for shelter as his spell erupts, engulfing the Arishok in a sphere of flames.

“Attack him,” Fenris urges breathlessly. “Now, while he’s recovering,” he mutters furiously, mind suddenly recalling the various times he had been called upon to fight to protect his former master, and everything he learned from his time with the fearsome Fog Warriors. But Hawke neither hears, nor heeds him. A familiar soft, shimmer of blue emanates from the mage’s fingers as it hovers over his abdomen alerting the elf to Hawke’s attempts to heal his more serious injuries. The wound must indeed be bad for him to resort to using his feeble knowledge of healing and expend precious mana on himself before the battle is over.

He looks pale. Sweat has begun to form on his brow, and even from across the hall Fenris can see him gritting his teeth as he forces himself to move again as the Arishok recovers himself. Beside him Anders twitches and Fenris feels the prickle of magic tugging at his markings well before the spark catches at the other’s fingertips.

“Don’t,” he barks, shaking his head before the healer can do anything, grateful his voice comes out firmer and sharper than he’d suspected himself to be currently capable of. If the healer- if any of them- intervene now, any honor or respect Garrett has earned with the Qunari will be for not, they will slaughter them all, the Qunari will see to it the streets of Kirkwall run with blood. He can only watch. Can only pray, despite having no recollection of ever doing so before, that Hawke will prevail. He catches sight of Sonja, unable to watch any longer, burrowing into Anders’ chest, hugging him so tightly there can be little doubt it’s painful, and frantically muttering prayers. Fleetingly, he wonders if any of the mismatched band of misfits the two eldest Hawke’s have brought together recognize just how difficult stopping the other mage from healing or otherwise helping his one-time lover is. But it doesn’t matter.

Hawke is still moving too slow. Whatever healing the mage has performed on himself seems to have kept him upright, but only just. His robes, while more reinforced than any ordinary Circle mage or apostates’ are hardly made to withstand this kind of punishment. The Arishok lunges forward and slashes at him once more as Hawke is scrambling backwards up the steps, nobles screaming and rushing to get out of the way. The Qunari’s blade slices through cloth and sprays the nearby wall with a fine mist of blood as it tears into Hawke’s leg. Garrett’s lets out a sharp cry, the momentum of the Arishok’s swing and pain that racks him causing him to stumble backwards, and grip the banister for support, the Qunari’s laughter echoes through the hall as he bears down on him once more.

Hawke is cornered. Exhausted. ‘Beaten’, the Arishok pronounces triumphantly as he raises his blade high for a finishing blow. The mage doesn’t flinch, looks the angry Qunari right in the eyes and says something which is lost in the sea of gasps and the screams of nobles now certain of the battle’s outcome and fearful of their own fates. But the Arishok is still, his blade and body frozen in place as he lets out a furious roar straining against the magical cage which he finds himself trapped in. Slowly, though it is probably as quickly as he can manage in his current state, Hawke pulls himself upright once more, as another spell encases the Qunari’s legs and mid-torso in a thick layer of ice.

The hall falls silent, everything deathly still as the mage’s arms reach out for some invisible force, palms suddenly crackling with power, the air throughout the hall seeming to sudden give off an eerily humming with his efforts. Fenris’ markings tingle once more, and for the first time in years the elf welcomes it, wills it, despite his previous arguments against any of them helping him. Hawke doesn’t have the first idea how to make use of them, of course, nor does Fenris, Danarius never having seen fit to explain the process to his ‘pet’. He doesn’t know if there’s a specific incantation that needs to be said, or a range in which such a task can be performer, but if Hawke needs them, let him take them, if it will save him… The Qunari surely wouldn’t be any the wiser to the intervention.

But Fenris remains where he is, and Hawke draws the energy from elsewhere, perhaps the very Fade around him, summoning a giant black cloud in the middle of the hall which sparks and suddenly strikes the immobilized Arishok in a blinding flash of light and raw energy, the resulting and deafening crack ringing through the hall. The ice prison shatters, skittering across the floor in hundreds of tiny pieces as the Qunari drops wordlessly to the floor, breathing heavily, battered, and stinking of burnt flesh.

“One day,” the Arishok wheezes, pointing a finger at the mage as Hawke closes in on him. “We shall return.” Hawke grips his stave in a stance Fenris knows well from their fighting together, readying himself for a final, killing strike with the blade at the end of his staff, but it proves unnecessary. The Arishok’s head soon falls back onto the step behind him with a resounding thud, wide eyes staring unseeing up at the ceiling above him.

Noble onlookers erupt into cheers as the Qunari stare on in shock, then acceptance at their fallen leader. It is over. Hawke has won. The remaining Qunari nod, slowly and silently making their way out of the hall as Hawke turns around, eyes searching and finally falling upon the place where his friends and sister have been watching and waiting expectantly. He smiles.

“No! No, I will not allow it!” It’s a moment or two before Fenris realizes he’s the one shouting, rushing forward towards Hawke just as his defiant and happy smile begins to slide off his face, body sagging, held up only by sheer will and leaning heavily on his staff, and then he’s slipping, knees crumpling beneath him. The elf’s lyrium tattoos alight a blinding flash of electric blue as he crosses the floor in the span of a breath, a heartbeat, snatching the man up in his arms before he can hit the tiled floor. Fenris carefully lowers them both to the ground, fighting the temptation to clutch at the other in a way that will almost certainly aggregated his already grievous injuries, and instead, gently pulling Garrett’s head and shoulders up to rest in his lap. It hurts to look at him, to see him like this, but he can’t look away either.

“Fen-” the mage rasps with faint traces of a smile that’s somehow entirely too warm for a man so pale and weak, the other half of the elf’s name falling away. Hawke’s nearly always a bit hoarse after a good fight from the loud taunts he throws at their enemies and shouted warnings and cheers to his companions, but this, Fenris knows, is something else. Something far worse.

His tongue feels heavy, a burden, desperate to say something, but paralyzed by doubt. Should he tell Hawke to be silent? To save his strength? Should he keep him talking? Should he talk to him? And what should he say?

“Hawke,” he chokes softly, fighting back tears. Fenris has never put much stock in platitudes, doesn’t believe in meaningless words just to fill the silence, but he has nothing else to offer him, cannot believe or even consider anything else. “It’s alright. You’re going to be alright,” he promises, leaning over him to do what he can to help apply pressure to his wound.

Sonja and Anders follow immediately behind, making their way through the crowd now rushing out of the keep and swarming the pair of them while the rest of their companions keep any curious onlookers back, and for once Fenris can’t be bothered to care about the other mage’s presence. If anything, perhaps for the first time since meeting Anders, he welcomes it.

“Help him,” he pleads desperately, one gauntlet covered hand cautiously, reaching up to brush sweat drenched hair from Garrett’s brow. He’s too pale, the elf thinks. Too quiet, too still to be the same boisterous and sarcastic shit that he knows, that he loves. Fastas vas, he’s been such a fool, pushing him away and keeping him at arm’s length all these years.

Help me, Fenris thinks still more desperately, as he watches the spirit healer’s hands light up bright blue and begin to hover over Garrett’s prone body. I cannot lose him.  

Healing, when it’s done well, doesn’t hurt. So long as a healer mage has the mana to spend on the effort, a simple spell can nullify the strain of a body being mended from all manner of injuries. It’s only too late that Fenris realizes why in some circumstances this might be a bad thing, as with a relieved groan, and one last glance at the elf, Hawke’s eyes roll back, then fall closed. Fenris’ fingers instinctively tighten where they grip the mage, careful not to injure him further with his gauntlets as Anders continues softly muttering spells over him.

“What? What are you doing,” the elf demands as the gentle pull of the healer’s spells on his Lyrium tattoos fades. Hawke doesn’t stir. Anders won’t look at him, only managing to look at an equally anxious Sonja from beneath the flyaway wisps of his blond hair as he shakes his head, shoulders slumped beneath the weight of it all. “No,” Fenris chokes, clutching the man in his arms fiercely as his world threatens to crumble around him. “No!” He’s shouting now. Drawing the attention of those few nobles who’ve lingered in the hall and the worried looks of Varric, Merrill, Aveline, Sebastian, and Isabela from where they hover nervously just out of the way.

Later, the elf thinks, he might well hate or rage against the pirate for putting their friend in harm’s way like this. And for what? Now, however, there are more pressing concerns.

“You can fix this,” Fenris insists turning his attention back to where Anders and Sonja lean tearfully against one another for support. “That'a what you’re here for. Fix this,” he demands angrily. “Help him.”

“Fenris,” Anders manages softly, shaking his head. “There’s nothing more I can do. I’ve healed everything, but it was too much. His heart-” the healer says, before the rest of his words are choked by a sob.

Sebastian makes to step forward, to contribute what he can to the proceedings, before the elf arrests him with a glare and angry growl, curling himself tighter around Hawke’s prone body, halting the other’s steps.

No. Fenris shakes his head. No, this cannot be how it all ends. He can’t- He won’t lose him like this. Andraste and the Maker, the Creators, the Void or whatever waits for them all in the hereafter cannot have him yet. Lyrium lines flash as in an instant the elf plunges his hand through Garrett’s chest, ignoring the audible gasp coming from his friends around them.

He’s no healer, but he does have a thorough understanding of anatomy. While much of Southern Thedas tended to shy away from dissection, considering the process macabre, Tevinter has no such reservations. Learning more about the body, was only practical when you had Fenris’ sort of skills. Ripping out a heart was a much cleaner and faster means of killing someone than removing their intestines, after all. So Danarius had sometimes supplied him with drawings, and, as was more often the case, ample opportunities and subjects on which to practice. They are not memories he recalls with any sort of fondness, but the training is useful now.

Ghostly fingers slide through and around flesh, fat, and muscle, until they reach their target. With far greater care than he has ever used on any of his enemies, Fenris allows fingers to rematerialize around the delicate organ, then squeeze. A pause, then another squeeze. He doesn’t know if this will work, only that he isn’t ready to let go yet. The elf has taken untold number of lives, but this is the first in memory he’s tried to save; an ache in his chest throbbing with each squeeze of his fingers around the other’s heart. A tear splashes on Garrett’s robes before he realizes he’s crying.

“Please,” he rasps. “Please, don’t go.” Don’t leave me, he pleads desperately. Another squeeze. And then, against all odds, a shuddering breath. Fingers ghost again in an instant, before the other can move and he inadvertently bring him any further harm.

“Hawke,” Fenris gasps. “Hawke.” Around him the rest of their friends gasp, cry, and breathe a collective sigh of relief, but the elf scarcely notices, cannot be bothered to pay any mind to anything but the Chocolate-colored eyes that search his.

“Fenris,” Garrett manages softly, brow furrowing in confusion as he becomes aware of the small group around him. Relaxing a little and seeming to understand what must have occurred when he spots Anders opposite him, before he suddenly notices the elf’s ghostly arm through his chest. “Fen-” he begins again, as Fenris quickly retracts his arm, Lyrium lines slowly flickering out once more. But whatever else he meant to say is promptly knocked out of him as he is attacked from both sides with hugs from the elf and his elder sister.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” Fenris orders fiercely against the mage’s temple.

“Ditto,” Sonja agrees, nodding. The rest of the group gives them all a moment, before they too crowd in, offering up their relief, and hugs of their own. Fenris makes to pull away, to give the other’s some more room, he left Hawke, despite the other man’s pleas to stay, his insistence they could work through it all together. It isn’t his place any longer to make such demands of him, or hold him so fiercely. Garrett is having none of it, however, quickly grabbing the elf’s wrist, fingers trailing over the crimson sash that still rests tightly knotted over his gauntleted wrist, rubbing it for a moment with his thumb as brown eyes silently plead with large green ones. Damn him.

“The arishok,” Fenris asks, suddenly remembering and struck by curiousity. “Just before you cast that lightning. What did you say to him?”

“Na via lerno Victoria,” he grins toothily up at the elf.

“Festis bei umo canavarum,“ Fenris mutters under his breath, shaking his head, but even so he can’t entirely banish the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

“I hope not,” the mage replies softly with a smaller, more sincere smile. Hawke lets go of his wrist in favor of letting his hand trail down and grasp the elf’s and Fenris gives up fighting him, helping him to his feet to greet Meredith, Orsino and the band of Templars that have begun rushing into the hall. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” the man adds softly for only Fenris to hear.

“You’ll never find out,” he promises, squeezing the hand in his.

anonymous asked:

What do the main 4 + Mettaton and Grilby look for in a partner


Understanding & acceptance. He has off days, he’s lazy, he makes bad jokes. He knows what all of his problematic points are, & he needs someone who can look at the very worst parts of him & still greet him with a genuine smile.


A friendly disposition & an adoring heart. If you love your friends & family with generosity, if you’re kind, then there are chances that he’ll end up falling for you. He wants someone who can smile just as brightly as him, if not even a bit more.


PASSION. Ya gotta show her that you’re serious about yourself & the stuff you’re into, punk! Show her you’ve got a fire in your heart & she’s all yours!


Patience. She needs patience. She knows she can be troublesome to deal with, she knows that sometimes she tells fibs, she knows that she’s made so many mistakes. She knows that she’s not anyone’s first choice in a partner, so for someone to take the time to get to know her, faults & all–it really makes her happy.


He likes to be treated like a normal person. He does adore the spotlight–thrives in it, even–but being a star can get very tiring very quickly. He’s like any other celebrity. For every week of paparazzi & constant shows & concerts, there’s a day where he just wants to sit down & relax. If you give him that opportunity, his SOUL’ll melt in the palm of your hands before you even know it.


Ya gotta be a little pushy. A little brash. A little loud. Be the person to break him out of his shell, to show him that he doesn’t have to be reserved around you. Be the gasoline to urge his flames up & onward.

@louder-than-love tagged me to shuffle my music library and list the first 10-20 songs, thanks!

First of all, my music library is basically 8 playlists, many of which consist of only one or two artists (read megadeth and metallica) so i just shuffled my most varied playlist haha.

  1. Black Sabbath - Heaven and Hell
  2. Exodus - Angel of Death (Angel Witch cover)
  3. Slayer - Disciple
  4. Opeth - Hex Omega
  5. In Flames - Take This Life
  6. Urge Overkill - Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon (bc Pulp Fiction, duh)
  7. In Flames - Cloud Connected
  8. Dream Theater - As I Am
  9. Judas Priest - You’ve Got Another Thing Coming
  10. Pink Floyd - High Hopes
  11. Gojira - Liquid Fire
  12. Testament - Electric Crown
  13. Diamond Head - Lightning to the Nations
  14. Opeth - Deliverance
  15. Gojira - Magma (this whole album is golden)
  16. Dio - Holy Diver
  17. Dream Theater - Pull Me Under (my favourite!)
  18. Death Angel - Witches of Knave
  19. Whitesnake - Still of the Night
  20. Testament - Souls of Black

This playlist needs so much more music though….

I’m not tagging anyone this time so do it if you want to!

❛  ❛        got    a    light    ?      ❜  ❜       bumps    knitted    boy’s    shoulder   ,   turns    and    glance    with   hues   glazed    over   .      cigarette   hangs    between   delicate    digits     ,     unlit    and     urging   flame   .       he    looks    the    type    to    try    a    smoke    or    two   .

@knitcrowned    liked    .

Heart Strings [Part 6]

(A/N: Here it finally is! Disclaimer: this part doesn’t necessarily decide what brother she is going to end up with or if she’s going to end up with one of them at all. :) enjoy your patiently awaited Part 6. 💋)

Heart Strings [Part 6]

“It’s going to be a busy night (Y/N).” You co-worker confirms as most of the night life of Hoonah and the other tiny towns spill over to the bar.

You had worked here on and off for the past few years, earning cash to save toward future schooling or plans. Friday nights were the worst killers but also made you the biggest bucks. You had older men, younger men, douche bags, and sweethearts who didn’t belong, you had the shy women, girls barely old enough to to drink, older women and the ones who’d give it up to anyone. You knew the locals and who would most likely show up.
It was 9:00 and then sun was down and the loud music was beginning to get louder.

You were finishing mixing some gentlemen’s drink when you saw the boys walk in. No stranger to the bar you shouldn’t have been shocked they were there, but it was a party night and things were swinging. Not exactly their speed you would think. The grabbed the old beat up booth in the back and took off their coats. You couldn’t believe they had come here. Probably wasting time while waiting for a package to transfer to Chichakoff.

The boys were served beers and as far as you could tell they were still in the booth talking and laughing. You got busy and every chance you got you took a look over at their booth. Making eye contact with Bam the only one who seemed to know you were working. Across there way sat a group of girls, locals, you went to highschool with. They were so desperate they seemed to trip over themselves, they were eyeing the boys and they didn’t seem to mind flirting back.

They got up and made their way to the booth snuggling in with the boys. You could tell Noah’s discomfort, Bears huge smile and Matts laugh from a mile away. Gabe seemed distant from them and immediately it made you happy. You were busy observing Gabe you didn’t notice when Bam got up and made his way over to the bar.

“A margarita for the lady,” bam paused to point over to the women sitting in his seat, who waved when he pointed, “and a scotch for me.” Bam requested to the bartender next to you.

He stared straight at you, daring you to speak. For once you had nothing to say.

The bartender completed his drink order and Bam pulled out some crumpled bills out of his pocket.

“Keep the change.” He tells him , he takes the glass of scotch in his hand and downs it like a shot, making sure you’re watching the entire time. He grabbed the margarita glass and stalked back to his table.

You can’t help but miss his porcelain skin, thick muscles and his warm smile as he walked away, the never ending reminder of what you did.

“For you baby.” He says loudly, turning back making sure you heard it. She takes the drink and finishes it off within 10 minutes.

Gabe and Noah exist obviously uncomfortable, they make their way to the junkyard to look for resources.

You almost go after them but see Bam offer his hand to the trashy blonde next to him. A slower beat comes on the speakers and they start to dance.

Meanwhile Matt and Bear are across the place chatting up several women.

They’re on the floor near a clearing where you can see the pair. You want to look away something awful but you’re eyes are glued to them. The way his hands are on her waist and moving slowly down how and hers around his neck, locked tight.
You feel jealousy bubble within you. But you keep calm.

The club lights dim and the base drops lower. The bimbo turns around and slides down Bam as if grinding on him, he doesn’t seem to mind, if anything pleased. You feel your cheeks go up in flames. You get the urge in your legs to move. Every part of your body is screaming to march over and slap her and murder him. You’re resisting this urge the best you can.

Bam would never usually do something like this, ever. Especially since he had (Y/N) he didn’t dare even look at another woman. (Y/N) consumed his thoughts, his whole world. There was no one else he’d rather have. But she had to go and desert him. He wondered every night if it was something he did? What was wrong with him? What did he do to her? What could have he done better? What made her cheat with his own brother?
He hated her for doing this to him. He was miserable and lonely. Oh, so, lonely. He just wanted someone to love him, to make him feel special and wanted.

“(Y/N), your shifts been over for 15 minutes, go home.” Your coworker interrupts to inform you. You take off your black apron and put a few glasses in the sink.

She turned back around and pressed a messy kiss to his lips burying her hands in his hair. You couldn’t take it, you reached your boiling point. There was no denying you were seething with jealousy. You were going to scream.

You stalked  over and pushed her up off him, despite her being a good 5 inches taller than you. You were ready to throw fists. Bam quickly grabbed you and shielded you behind him, the sloppy girl ready to swing at you and beat your ass. You didn’t care, you didn’t care if she beat you into coma. Anything was better than watch her mouth on lips that were once yours.

“WHAT THE HELL!?” She screamed, clawing at you behind Bam.

“You fucking slut!” You shout bursting in the hot angry tears.

You’re still struggling behind Bam’s back to get at her when he pulls you out the bar. Leaving the woman alone.

“I’m sorry!” Bam yells over the music to her on his way out with you.

“What the hell,” bam paused, “was that all about!?” He demands his breathing heavy down the parking lot.

You break free from his grasp, “You know exactly what it was about.” You clench your fists at your side.

“I shouldn’t be even dealing with this shit.” He shakes his head. Walking down the gravel road to the Integrity to escape you, and maybe his problems.

“Don’t you just walk away!” You shout, “You know what you did.” You follow him.

“Refresh my memory?” He retorts still walking fast in front of you.

“YOU WERE DANCING WITH THAT SLUT AND OH ALLL UP ON HER!” You spit, adding dramatic inclination to your voice trailing behind him.

“If I remember correctly, we’re not together and you’re the one who slept with my brother.” He calmly replies stopping to turn around to face you.

You go to slap him but he knows you too well and restrains you. Tears starting to well up in his own eyes for the simple fact that it even came this far. He’s been desperately trying to forget you and move on. 3 months and he felt the same, if not worse. This interaction with you was a major set back.

His bed was cold and his life empty. He was missing half his heart and couldn’t for the life of him, fill it. It had been 3 months of feeling everything to not feeling anything and he just wanted to be happy again.

“I can’t do this with you.” He states walking down the wooden boards of the old Hoonah dock.

“She’s no me.” You remind him stopping in front of his family’s boat.

He stops, as if he’s just been struck by lightning or frozen in place, you can tell his back muscles tighten.

“I… I… I love you.” You stutter.

He turns around to face you. Looking dead in your eyes.

“Let me make you feel it.” You whisper instantly hearing the voice in the back of your mind screaming at you to stop.

Out of impulse and pure need he launches forward, out of place to roughly grab your face to direct his lips where they wanted to go, to yours. You quickly won him over and he scooped you up on to the empty boat, traveled down the narrow steps and threw you on one of the tiny cots.

Make me love you.” He demands in a hazy state. He’s above you, straddling your waist. He’s tracing your face with his pointer finger. You can tell his cuts are all healed up now. He traces his finger tip down your nose against your bottom lip and you open your mouth. The tip of his finger slips in your mouth and you swirl your tongue around the rough pad of his finger tip, you suck on it lightly. You look up to see his eyes heavily lidded and his lip caught between his teeth.

“Shit..” He hisses.

He grabs both your wrists and pins you down, and starts nipping at all your weak spots, knowing you wouldn’t put up much of a fight.

“There’s no one like you and that’s the problem.” Bam exhales, peeling his shirt off along with your own.

For one night Bam would feel something, 


Not quite, but something to fill the empty hole; even if it meant for one night.

You selfishly took advantage of him.

Some say loneliness the root of want and desire.

Come Alive - Part 4

Hey everyone!! So.. this is the steamy part I’ve been mentioning. It’s a bit strange so I’m sorry if you guys hate it :( but anyway, thanks for reading and have an awesome day :D 

Part 4:  

 Finn’s place looked just like him. I dropped the keys he gave me on the coffee table and did a 360, taking it all in. I hadn’t ever been over to his place until now, for whatever reason, we always just ended up back at mine, but now I wish I could experience this with him.

Keep reading

A War On Two Fronts | Part Eighteen

Summary: All he has to do is kill her. If the Demon Prince can kill Princess Lucy Heartfilia, the war will be over and victory will be theirs. But he can’t do it. And she can’t quite bring herself to kill him either.

Rating: M                 Ff link

Words: 1839

A/N: Sorry for the wait and the cliffhanger but I’m still getting into the swing of things with uni, and it’s taking it out of me a little. I hope you like this chapter, don’t forget to let me know what you think!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four /Part Five/Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight /Part Nine / Part Ten/ Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen / Part Sixteen / Part Seventeen

Three Fools

Natsu’s blood ran cold for the second time that day.

He was an idiot. A complete and utter fool. After last night, of course the dragon could smell her on him. He could smell how her scent lingered on his skin himself. Had thought it a comfort. He should have seen sense.

“Reek of who?” He attempted to feign innocence, but Acnologia had already seen the terror in his eyes.

“Don’t play dumb with me, dragon boy,” The beast laughed, rising up on his haunches, “My, my, what will Zeref make of this I wonder.”

Keep reading

The Next Chapter #6 - MMFD Fanfic

First off it is almost 1am and I’ve been up since 5am, so please forgive any typo’s. It has been a long day! Second off, there is quite a bit of smut in this chapter, so beware. I’ve never really written any X-Rated stuff, so sorry if it’s crap.

Enjoy ;)

Finn unlocked the door to his flat and moved aside to let Rae enter before him. She noted that it smelled like him, a fact she hadn’t even realized earlier. It was a mix between grease, cigarettes and sweat and, it turned her on. It was purely male, it was totally Finn.

He must have tidied up a bit before heading to the pub because she noted that her clothes were hung on the back of the chair and the bottles of beer that were laying on the table were gone.

He followed her in, closing the door behind them and cutting off the light from the hallway. It was now pitch black and after a moment a light came on next to the couch. It wasn’t bright enough to light the entire place, but it gave enough light so that they could see what they were doing.

She walked over to the couch and sat down, taking off her shoes and curling up. She was suddenly nervous. Her hands were fidgeting on her thighs as she watched him take off his jumper and throw it on a hook hanging by the door. His white under shit clung to his body which had somehow gotten more fit and his jeans hung a bit lower as if he had forgotten to wear a belt. He was beautiful.

Rae looked down to her fidgeting fingers trying to put her mind someplace else. Why was it so hard to look at him. Why did it feel like she was coming undone with just the slightest glance. She had dated a boy name Mark at Bristol who she had met in her English class. He was nice, funny and had a killer smile, but something just didn’t feel right. Being with him felt like being with Liam all over again. Like he was just someone she felt comfortable with because he didn’t bring out her insecurities. He didn’t challenge her, or scare her, or excite her. He was safe. Finn was dangerous.

She looked up when she felt a dip in the couch next to her, but she still didn’t meet his eyes. He reached out and grabbed her hand to stop her from picking at her jeans. He always hated when she fidgeted.

“I’m sorry that I lied to you about Katie” he whispered not letting go of her hand. “I see now that it wasn’t fair.” he apologized.

“I…” she started.

“Wait, just let me finish, okay?” he pleaded.

“Yeah, okay” she whispered.

“After we broke up and the night of the accident when we were in the hospital, do you remember when I tried to grab your hand?”

Rae nodded still looking down.

“When you pulled away, I knew you had hurt yourself. I just felt it inside and I knew. I knew it was because I had broken up with you for lying to me about Bristol.”

Rae looked up at him ready to defend herself “But, Finn I…”

“Please Rae, I’m begging you, just let me finish. Let me get what I need to say out and then you can say whatever you want and I will listen.” Rae looked back down into her lap , using her only free hand to pick at the thread of her jeans.
“I knew I had to fix it. I had to get you back so that you wouldn’t hurt yourself again, but you just walked away. You told me that you didn’t deserve it and I lost it. I called you mental, which was beyond stupid of me. I said it and I hated myself for it.” he breathed in and let go of her hand. She looked up at him, but he had stood and was now pacing back and forth in front of the couch. “Katie came to see me after that talking about how I deserved better than someone like you and she tried to kiss me. I didn’t kiss her back. But, then you showed up talking about how you were going to stay in Stamford and how you were choosing me and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was the one who didn’t deserve you.” he took a long pause and sat back down on the couch next to Rae, just far enough that she could feel his warmth but not close enough that they were touching.

“Here you were ready to give up University for me. You were ready to turn down this huge opportunity and because I was a selfish prick, I wanted to let you. Had you not seen Katie and ran for the door. Had I not seen the marks on your hands, I would have let you. I would have let you give up your life for me because that was who I was. It didn’t matter that you were sick and needed help. It didn’t matter that you had the chance to get out of Stamford and make something of yourself. All that mattered was I wanted you. When I saw your hands It hit me. I was the one who didn’t deserve you. I got it in my head that the best thing for you was to leave. I didn’t realize until now, that even though it hurt like hell to let you go, it was just me being selfish yet again. I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing, but the right thing would have been letting you make your own choice.”

Finn slid off the couch and onto the floor directly in front of Rae. He grabbed her chin forcing her to look up at him. To look into his eyes.

“Earlier Tonight, I wasn’t mad or angry at you, I was angry at myself. For not being honest with you, for not telling you the truth, for assuming that I knew you, because truth is, every time I look at you I feel like I’m seeing you for the first time.”

Rae had heard enough. She had heard everything she needed to hear tonight.

“Where’s that vodka you were talking about?” she inquired standing up from the couch and walking towards the little kitchen area.

“Seriously,” Finn asked in disbelief.

“Yes seriously,” she said.

Finn walked past her into the dark dining area opening the cupboard and pulling down two small glasses. He grabbed the bottle of vodka from top of the counter as if it weren’t the first time he’d grabbed the bottle in the dark.

Opening the half empty bottle, he poured them both a shot, the light streaming in from the window causing the liquid to sparkle. Rae picked hers up walking to the radio that was sat beside the couch and pushing play. To her delight the sound of Oasis softly filled the room.

Raising her glass towards Finn she stated, “It seems like a night for toasts, so how bout we make one.” She held her glass out towards him. “To truths"

Finn gave her a small nod “To unfinished endings,” he added

“To new beginnings” she finished clinking her glass to his taking the shot right as the chorus of the song was starting to play. Mustering up all the courage she had, she looked Finn directly in his eyes and began to softly sing along.

“So don’t go away
Say what you say
But say that you’ll stay
Forever and a day”

Everything she wanted to tell him was right there in the lyrics to that song. It was as if this moment was tailor made for them. Like everything up to this moment was meant to happen exactly as it did. Before she knew what was happening she was in his arms, his strong mouth on hers tasting of liquor and cigarettes. Tasting of him.

She couldn’t breath she was so consumed by his kiss. She opened her mouth inviting him further, dropping the shot glass from her hands. Not even the sound of shattered glass broke them from their embrace and without breaking their kiss he spun her around towards the bedroom door.

His hands were caught in her hair holding her close as if he were afraid she was going to pull away. Not a chance in hell. She was consumed by his touch, his tongue expertly dancing with hers. He nipped her bottom lip, their universal signal that he was ending the kiss, but not for long. He pulled away grabbing the bottom of her shirt and lifting it over her head. Before she had a chance to do the same to his, he was kissing her again, even deeper than before. He wrapped his arms around her, grabbing her ass and pulling her body flush against his.

Earlier he had been taking out his frustration on her body, but not now. Now, he was worshiping it. She never let herself imagine she would get to feel what being with him felt like ever again.

With a single flick, her bra was on the floor and his hands were full, teasing her nipples that were already hard. He moved from her mouth to her neck sucking and biting until she was out of breath and undoubtedly wet. Releasing his hold on her he took a step back and the lack of his touch caused her to groan.

“Calm down, girl” he teased yanking his shirt over his head. They were both topless now and he took a step toward the dresser, pulled a condom from the drawer and threw it on the bed.

He moved forward pushing them both until the back of her knees hit the bed. She wanted to tell him how sexy he was, and how much she had missed his kiss, but couldn’t find the words. He grabbed a strand of her hair putting it behind her ear and letting his hand run the course of her jaw, stopping right at her swollen lips.

“I’ve dreamed of this moment for nine months,” he purred causing her to go week in the knees. With a little shove, she fell onto the bed and within seconds he was on top of her, his lips assaulting her mouth and neck.

With every kiss her breath quickened, with every touch, her body screamed begging to be devoured. She needed him to be inside her now.

“I need you,” she panted as he was slowly kissing his way down her breasts. “now.”

“Patience Girl, I’ll get there” he grinned against her stomach, slowly moving south.

He unzipped her pants as she lifted her body so he could slide them off. Running his hands up her naked thighs, he began kissing where his hands had just been. Every touch felt like drops of water on a pavement scorched by the sun. Her body was on fire and she needed Finn to extinguish the flames.

“Faster” she urged throwing her head back when she felt his breath right at her opening. Slipping two fingers inside her underwear he ripped them right off.

She didn’t think she could be any more turned on. She was wrong.

His kisses continued in and around her, teasing what was to come.

“Please” she begged almost coming undone when he ran his tongue up her slit needing no further prompting. As if they had a mind of their own, her hands grabbed his hair as he continued to lick and suck until she was nearly there.

A few more strokes of his expert tongue and she felt her legs tighten, her stomach clinch and her mind fade as the orgasm ripped through her. One hand on his shoulder and the other tangled in his hair, she held on for dear life as the pleasure became so intense, she screamed his name at least five times.

It wasn’t until her entire body had stopped shaking that she felt him climb from between her thighs to right beside her.

Rae had had dozens of orgasms courtesy of Finn, but never had she experienced anything like that in her entire life.

Taking his face in her hands, Rae looked into his eyes, but didn’t say a word. She just pulled his face to her and kissed him softly. Reaching between them she made quick work with the buttons of his jeans and he slide them off throwing them to the ground.

Every time they had sex, Finn had taken control. He had given her pleasures she didn’t even know existed. He always set the pace, telling her to be patient when she begged. She was always so worried about doing something wrong or embarrassing herself that she was always glad to relinquish the power over to him. Sure, she gave him blow jobs, but he always set the pace, using his words and thrusts to indicate when he wanted her to speed up or slow down.

Tonight Rae wanted to feel in control. Tonight she wanted to show him that she was ready for him to love her like she had never been before. Pushing him onto his back, she quickly slid down the bed, taking him into her mouth.

With a surprised look and a soft moan he grabbed a pillow placing it underneath his head, so he could watch her as she worked. Raising her eyes she moved her hand and mouth along his shaft, all the while keeping her eyes focused on his. She had never allowed herself to watch him as she did this, but couldn’t believe how turned on it made her. To see the pleasure she was giving him clear on his face. To see that when she swirled her tongue, or took him entirely into her mouth, his lips made a perfect ‘O’ shape and his eyes briefly closed. He was as beautiful as ever and she could hardly wait until he was inside her.

When he closed his eyes and grabbed the bed sheets with clinched fists, she knew it was time. She quickly removed him from her mouth and climbed up the bed positioning his shaft at her entrance before plunging her body down to the hilt. The feeling was so sudden, but all too glorious and she began to use her leg muscles to pump her body up and down. Her head fell back with the pleasure and he sat his body up into a seated position, pulling her nipple into his mouth. His arms were wrapped around her and after a few minutes he dropped her breasts bringing her mouth to his. She was close now and she only hoped that he was as well.

She heard him grunt as he released her mouth, so she picked up her pace, her legs and lungs burning as she burst with pleasure at the same time he did.

Moments felt like hours as their orgasm tore threw them. They both cried out in pleasure as they reached the peak and were tumbling down the other side.

Finn fell back pulling Rae down with him as he still filled her. She lay at his side his arms wrapped around her shoulders, her face in his chest.

They were drenched in sweat despite the cold breeze flowing through the window, but she didn’t care as inhaled the smell placing small kisses on his neck.

“That was…” Rae waiting curious to hear his response, “Incredible.” he finished a smile on his lips.

“yeah” she replied her eyelids heavy and her breathing starting to slow.

The last thing she felt was Finn’s finger writing the words ‘I Love You" along her back.

arashian-emu ililypop i-dream-of-emus peradventureimamazed happyfrasers @14000romances celestev31 kneekeyta thatfunnygirllauren whatwouldmotherthink lilavioletaanianeta annemarieted milllott becauseyouarestrong rinncincin fizzezlikecherrycola bitchy-broken parisgirly93 jackiewalsh2013 tinakegg katywright340 lolflash hewittgolightly neffanyx milymargot borntosik alyssaloc mirandasmadeofstone louise7499 losingpudge ducky17 stinemarine myfinnnelsonpls kathhumphreysx cocora84 klbus lexbebrezzy19 omgbananasnailus

Small little theory.

Henry left the storybook for Killian to find, because pages of his quest and separation with Emma had been documented INTO the book. Henry wants him to see this.

And so it is written in the book: “Could a love story as worthwhile and True as Snow White and Prince Charming’s love story be worthy of a second chance?”

This sparks a flame within Killian. A flame so strong. A flame urging him forward to defeat Hades once and for all, and to reunite himself with the love of his life.

Disneyfied Demon

This one’s not a prompt/headcanon/from the blog, but a thought I had.

Of the triplets going through a Disney phase.

The triplets going through a Disney phase and getting Uncle Dipper to learn all the music for sing-alongs.

And then this happened.

On AO3 // On

Jamie sniffled and tried to hide it – she wasn’t a crybaby, no matter what the boys on the daycare said – but she wanted her mommy. This adventure wasn’t fun anymore, like the man from the playground had promised it would be.

Instead, after he’d given her a piece of candy, he’d dragged her down to a dark basement with a bunch of other adults in weird robes, sat her down in the corner, tied her to a pipe, told her to stay put and be quiet, and threatened to smack her when she cried.

The adults were arguing, something about candles and chanting and someone called Alcor and big words and Jamie didn’t understand what they were talking about but it didn’t sound like a fun game. Maybe it would be fun after Mr. Alcor got here? Because she wasn’t having fun at all, and she was ready to go home.

Then one of them grabbed her, cutting her free from the pipe and dragging her over to the circle. The rest of the adults started some kind of chant in a strange language and the one holding her raised a knife, slicing across Jamie’s arm even as she cried and struggled.

Her blood splattered into the circle and hissed, smoke boiling around the lines of chalk as they lit up with gold light that flowed through the lines like liquid.

As the light finished filling all the lines of the circle there were yells and banging from upstairs and the adults started to panic, dropping Jamie to the floor to rush upstairs.

Jamie sat at the edge of the circle where she’d fallen, crying and wishing harder than ever for her mommy.

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