the words you cannot speak

How Tater Speaks in English: I’m love you.

How Tater Speaks on Russian: The sun cannot compare to your beauty, the words I speak cannot describe the burning flame inside me. You make me twist with just one word fallen from your lips. I love you. 

How Jack Speaks in English: uh, love you.

How Jack Speaks in French: Euh, love you. 

You cannot tell me that Alex Danvers doesn’t know Kryptonese. That while Alex was teaching her everything of Earth, that Kara didn’t teach Alex her language. That they didn’t stay up late, looking at the stars, and Kara said every word into relation of what they saw.
You cannot tell me Alex doesn’t speak better Kryptonese then Kal-El. Because it is something she actually wanted to learn and support of because of Kara.
Alex couldn’t give her her planet, her loved ones, or her life back, but she could talk to her in her language.

Nyx-Chapter 1

Summary: Nyx was an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night–a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of Aither, the shining blue of the heavens. Her opposite number was Hemera (Day) who scattered the mists of night at dawn. she was doomed to walk the earth in search of her consort Erebus.

Warnings: My usual. Angst, Violence And Smut

Pairings: Bucky X Reader, Avengers x Reader, Platonic!Loki x Reader, Thor x Reader

Walking lightly, twigs and dried leaves crunching beneath your feet, the long white sundress you’re wearing morphs into a shimmering black one. A veil of stars trails behind you, the very light seems to be sucked out of the sky, throwing the world into darkness as you let your nature take over.

Skimming fingers gently over the barks of trees as you walk, wings blacker than the darkest night unfurling from your back. You let out a content sigh. It was good to let go. The stomping of boots behind you gets ignored. You knew he would follow, he always did.

The embodiment of Erebus, the man you had been seeking for millennia.

Your very heart and soul.

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Listening is a rare happening among human beings. You cannot listen to the word another is speaking if you are preoccupied with your appearance, or with impressing the other, or are trying to decide what you are going to say when the other stops talking, or are debating about whether what is being said is true or relevant or agreeable. Such matters have their place, but only after listening to the word as the word is being uttered. Listening is a primitive act of love in which a person gives himself to another’s word, making himself accessible and vulnerable to that word.
—  William Stringfellow
how come every conversation with sera is like
  • sera: uhh all this weird demon shite is weird and terrifying lets make things normal so people are happy yeah?
  • 
inquisitor: oh Uhh……. fuck are y….. are you even speaking words right now……. i literally cannot comprehend what the fuck you are trying to get across here…….. crazy ass.... what even the fuck
Reaction to you breaking up with them

Rap Monster: 

First he would be confused because in hes opinion your relationship was going fine.When you said that you guys should end things between you two he just stared at you blankly ,than he would ask you “ Why?” with tears in hes eyes. 

Originally posted by chimchams

Jimin: 

As soon as you said “Lets just brake up” in the middle of a fight he would forget the fight and he would launch himself at you ,than hug you so tightly that you can’t even breath properly.He will keep saying how sorry he is for making you feel that way and that he never wants to let you go.  

Originally posted by jiminrolls

Jin: 

Jin is usually really confident and he always belives himself ,but just like everyone he can be insecure too.When you said “I want to break up” he got super insecure about himself ,if he loved you right ,if he paid enough attention to you ,if he was what you wanted in a guy ,if he was goog enough.At that moment a silent tear rolled down hes face.He wanted to hold you and tell you otherwise but he just can’t move ,he was too afraid. 

Originally posted by jiminahhh


J-Hope:

He’d just stand there, in front of you, with a smile froze on his face. He thought you were getting along pretty well, he just can’t believe what he heard from you. He’s trying hard to organize his thoughts but he finds it really hard, then all of a sudden he burst out crying. He hugs you tightly and whispers sweet things into your eras, not to leave him. You apologize for this heartbreaking break up and leave him all alone in the dark room. He stops crying after awhile. He leaves the place and the shattered pieces of his heart behind.

“Why did you leave me?’

Suga:

When you decide to break up with Yoongi, it would be in a nice, not too crowded place. At the moment when you say ‘We shouldn’t continue our relationship’ he’s heart skips a beat. After he realized what you’ve just said, he panics and sweats. He tries to ask why do you want to leave him, but he can’t speak. He cannot even say a word. You explain your reason to end your relationship with him and leave immediately. You just can’t bear seeing him like this.You turn back once more to make sure he’s not following you. He pouts as he tries to hold back his tears. Suga waits until he can’t see you anymore in the distance then leaves as well. He reminds himself that he should move on quickly and be the tough guy he used to be. 

“I should stop trusting in people who just simply betrays me.”

Jungkook: 

You know that it’s really hard to break up with Jungkook. Once he gets your heart, he never want to let go. You tell him that you don’t like him anymore. For first he’s taken aback and a bit shocked. Trying to calm himself down, he laughs nervously and can’t understand the reason behind your break up. You leave him alone thinking he’ll be fine… but that’s not the truth. Jungkook seems strong but if something so important leaves him, he can’t hold himself back. He can became so depressed and sad in the nick of time that he doesn’t even want to live anymore. He rushes home trying so hard not to cry but fails. He’s helpless sobs echoes through the street. Finally, he just closes his eyes and thinks about nice things and tries to forget you… even though he knows it’s impossible. 

“I’m trying so hard to forget you…”

V:

He first thought you were just joking. You expel him from the house while he still think you’re just fooling him. He holds his tears back while he slowly look back at the door you’ve just shut behind him. After standing there for ten minutes, he realized that you weren’t joking. You were death serious. You don’t like him anymore. Taehyung starts to cry and walks away to ask one of his friend for shelter during the night. He still can’t believe that you left him like that. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He was the best boyfriend a girl could imagine. Then why? Why did the love of his life broke up with him? Was he too annoying or childish? He wanted to believe so bad that you were just joking.

“Please tell me, it’s a joke. Everything will be fine, right?”


WA & Missy 

We hope you liked our reaction ,we will post one every week from now on! \(^>^)/  <3

anonymous asked:

If you’re talking on the phone and have a really quiet voice and a heavy accent, then I really need you to please just speak up. Yeah, some people don’t like talking on the phone, but seriously, you’re not gonna get what you need if I cannot understand you. Speak loudly and enunciate your words. Please. I’m nice, but it’s honestly so annoying if I can’t hear or understand you.

Rebirth Part 4 | A Hemlock Grove Story

Thank you everyone who has read Rebirth and any of my one shots so far. It means so much that you have all enjoyed my writing so much and given me so much love and reblogs! Thank you from the bottom of my fangirl heart <333

word count; 992

tw; swearing, kissing

Romans eyes widened as he pulled back from the young girl by the counter. Rumancek. No wonder her features were so familiar. She was Destiny’s fucking sister. Peter’s cousin. How could he not have noticed this.

“Why?” was all he could muster. He couldn’t think of anything else to say to her. He had killed Destiny. Murdered her in cold blood. Thrown her body through the glass table he had his morning coffee at and then finished her off by snapping her neck. Peter had then ripped his throat and heart out, leaving him dead on the cold ground. Why would a Rumancek bring him back from the dead? Why would she then bring him back to her apartment? “Why?” he said again, in nothing more than a whisper.

“Hemlock Grove needs you. Peter …” she began, watching for Romans reaction. His eyed widened at the name of his former best friend, his former partner in crime. The one who had torn his heart from his body and wandered off into the night with it hanging from his fangs. “ … Peter needs your help. He asked me to do this, he asked me to bring you back, to give your heart back to you…” she continued. Roman stood there looking like a confused puppy, a deer in the headlights of an on coming car. He fell backwards onto the sofa, running a hand through dark blonde hair.

“In case you forgot, I murdered your sister for which, Peter ripped out my heart and wandered off with it like it was his new favourite chew toy!” Roman shouted, confusion and anger bubbling up within him. After a brief moment of holding his head in his hands, he got back up to his feet, storming back over to the counter in nothing more than a couple of strides. Anastasia’s apartment was not that small but, Roman was extremely tall with incredibly long legs. “Why would you bring a murderer into your apartment? Why would Peter put his cousin in that sort of danger?” Before Anastasia had a chance to respond, a shooting pain ran through Roman’s chest, up his throat and into his head. It burned as if someone had doused him in petrol and set him a alight. His breath hitched in his throat as he fell to his knees, letting out a series of low grunts.

Anastasia dropped to her knee’s, placing her hands on both of Roman’s cheeks, tilting his head upwards so he could see her. “He knew I was safe as you haven’t fed in over twelve months. Your thirst may be great but your energies are weak. You have no strength, no muscle motivation to get up and feed. You’re a bark with no bite” she taunted, pursing her lips into a mocking pout. Roman looked up at her, his eyes narrowing. She got back up to her feet, moving towards the counter. Roman was not sure what was driving him, what had given him a sudden burst of energy, but he was back on his feet, moving towards Anastasia. She turned just as Roman’s fingers wrapped around her throat, pushing her forcefully against the counter. She grunted as her hip clashed with the wooden counter top, the weight of Roman’s body obvious against her tiny frame.

“I am Roman Godfrey, I do not lose my bite!” he snarled, tightening the grip around her throat. Anastasia did nothing but laugh through her gasps, taunting Godfrey even more. “You think this is funny? I am an inch away from squeezing the life out of you, murdering another Rumancek sister and you’re laughing?” He pulled his hand away from her throat, causing Anastasia to drop slightly, her own hand moving to her throat, giving it a light rub.

“Seems my little concoction of herbs and bat saliva was a little bit strong,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. “To answer your second question Godfrey, I find this all to be hilarious. I have my sisters murderer stood in my kitchen having brought him back from the dead in my birthday suit. I shoved your dead heart back into your dead body, you drank bat saliva and now it is beating again. And all of this has happened because my dearest cousin has an issue that only his damned Upir friend can sort. He owes me big style for this stunt…”

Anastasia began muttering to herself in Romanian with Roman merely standing there unable to understand a word she was saying.

“Can you speak in English please? I cannot understand a fucking word you’re saying!” He shook his head as he spoke, glaring at the brunette with his sparkling green orbs. Anastasia continued to mutter to herself angrily, as if in some sort of a trance. “Jesus Christ will you stop?!” Roman shouted, slamming his fist against the wall like a hammer, but, she continued, not even blinking or reacting to the sudden noise. Roman had had it. There was only one way to shut a woman up in his eyes and one way only.

Roman lunged forwards, wrapping both of his hands around Anastasia’s cheeks and pulled her into him, crashing his lips onto hers. Immediately, her Romanian babbling was silenced. Her eyes were wide, taken a back at the fact that she, a Rumancek, sister to Destiny, was stood in her kitchen, locking lips with Roman Godfrey, an Upir and her sisters murderer. How had she gotten herself into this situation, she thought to herself.

Placing her palms flat on his chest, she pushed him away before quickly placing her right hand over her lips, her eyes wide.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked, removing her hand from her mouth.

“Shutting you up,” Roman said, moving forward once more, grabbing Anastasia by the hips and pulling her into him, his lips once more finding hers in a passionate and lust filled embrace.

One More Night- Dirty Dane #Imagine.

“Come over here, now." 
"Seriously, Come over. I need you." 
"Alright, please get your ass over here?" 

"Dammit, Dane,” you whispered under your breath after your phone vibrated for the umpteenth time within a matter of minutes. You closed your book and swung your legs over the side of the bed, sliding on a pair of shorts underneath your over-sized shirt. You were stupid to think that he wouldn’t call you tonight. You planned on burying yourself in your new book and later enjoy a nice warm bubble bath. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself you were better off without him, you knew you weren’t. 

You are the itch that he can’t scratch. He is the illness you can’t cure. It’s a disease the both of you share, and have no idea how to get rid of it. You must have said it a million times. “I’ll only stay with you one more night.”

You arrived at his place and sighed, looking at the enormous structure of the house. It was almost midnight now. He wouldn’t like that you kept him waiting for so long. You reached for the door, but hesitated to knock. How long could you keep this up? It’s just sex, nothing but it. And it’s true. You and Dane haven’t just hung out, caught a movie, or dinner in months; let alone have a real conversation.

Groaning, you turned on your heels to head back to your car, deciding enough was enough. You couldn’t do this anymore. Of course, though, by some twist of fate, you heard the front door swing open. His lips were pressed into a hard line, lust already clouding his blue eyes.

You scoffed at his stance; his hard demeanor; trying to intimidate you. He pulled you inside by the wrist, slamming the door loud enough to be heard from the houses all around. You didn’t dare wince at the harsh action, knowing he doesn’t do it to harm you; rather to intensify the atmosphere.

You swallowed thickly, clenching your jaw as you pushed his chest away from yours, making a loud thump as he hit the wall.

“You and I go hard at each other like we’re going to war.”

You slowly stepped back, preparing yourself with whatever form of retaliation he was going to unleash upon you. He huffed out the harsh breath he had been holding in and regained his balance. He took you by the collar of your shirt and shoved you up against the door, hindering your movement. 

He gripped the fabric of your shirt, and violently ripped it down the middle and off your body, tossing it onto the floor. He cocked an eyebrow and smiled, silently asking, “What’s your move?" 

You shrugged, picking up the now tattered shirt and pushing his shoulder to make way for you to move past him. 

"That was yours, jackass." 

You heard a deep, hoarse growl escape from Dane’s throat. Before you had time to think, he had you up against the wall, the railing leading upstairs pressed against your back. 

"You know, I’m getting really sick of that little smart ass mouth of yours. I don’t know how I put up with it." 

You tilted your head and scoffed in disbelief. 

"Don’t get me that bullshit, Dane. I’ve been trying to end this thing for months, but every fucking time I leave, you beg me to stay." 

His hands were pressed up against the wall on either side of your head, his body trapping yours against his own and the hard surface behind you. Your face was just centimetres from his and you could feel both of your tempers feeding off of each other.

"You don’t think I feel stupid crawling back to you all the time? I wake up in the morning, hating myself. Satisfied, sure; but guilty as hell.”

His face softened immensely, him now realizing the truth behind his words. He sighed, hanging his head sheepishly and muttered, “I just can’t stop.”

You lifted his chin, giving him no choice but to look at you.

“Dane, don’t you see what’s becoming of us? We’re so damn dysfunctional, that we’ve started keeping score. It’s sick, the things that we do to each other.”

He looked into your eyes; the immense greed replaced with ruthful warmth.

“I put you through hell, don’t I?”

You smiled reluctantly and nodded.

“I don’t remember the last time I’ve come over and didn’t leave with bruises all over my body.”

He shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m sort of running out of excuses for all the scratches from the neck down.”

You can’t help but smirk at his serious expression. He reveals a sly smile himself.

“I haven’t seen you smile in so long, Dane. What happened to us?”

“The sex. It’s just that good. I never really think about anything else,” he confessed, shrugging shyly. Your lips twitch up in a small smile at his words.

“Well, in any other situation I would take that as a compliment. But Dane, we have to stop this. It’s not healthy. I want my best friend back. I want the old Dane back.”

He nodded, wordlessly agreeing with you. Silence consumed both of you so that you could only hear his uneasy breaths. He let out a low frustrated groan and mumbled “One more night.”

His eyes turned a dark blue as they met yours. His stare made your muscles tense up as he waited for a response. You didn’t even realize you’d been biting your lip until you released it to speak.

“One more night.” You repeat his words, letting the idea sink in.

“One more time to ravish each other; to release all of our frustrations; really give it to one another.”

He nodded, watching you intently. You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, DeHaan, you better fuck me good.”

Dane grabbed your neck, roughly pulling you to him for a passionate kiss. You quickly stripped him of his shirt and ran your fingertips along the ridges of his chest. His hands roamed over the exposed skin of your back, pulling you closer to him. His hands kneaded down into your shorts and massaged your curves as he scooped you into his arms. Wrapping your legs around his waist allowed you to feel how just how much he wanted you.

You began to question if he was going to fuck you right there on the wall until he began making his way upstairs to his bedroom. He tossed you onto the bed and hovered over you. His fingers hooked under your shorts, pulling your panties down your legs along with them. The cold air hit the warmth of your skin, making you shiver, along with his intense gaze. You leaned into him, tugging at his lip aggressively with your teeth as you shed him of his jeans.

He groaned against your mouth as he kicked them off. The way his hips ground against yours was enough to send you over the edge, but you weren’t giving in to him that easily.

You rolled on top of him quickly, straddling his waist. You groaned loudly, his cock throbbing against your heated core with a hunger only you can gratify. His teeth grazed your chest as he unclasped your bra and slid it down your shoulders slowly, taking in the sight of your full breasts. He took your nipple and tugged it between his teeth before flicking his tongue against the hardened bud. You let out a yelp as he treated the other just as harshly.

Your blood boiled in your veins, throwing all caution away. You dragged his boxers down his legs hastily, making him spring from his bounds. You gripped him tightly in your hand and gave him a dry pull, making him jolt from the friction.

His fingers clasped around your wrist tightly, restricting your movements. His jaw clenched as he lifted you off the bed and pushed you against the bedroom door roughly, pinning your arms above your head. Your eyes locked, his gaze softening for a moment. He slowly leaned in, brushing his lips against your own affectionately. You eased into him, kissing back passionately.

Dane nuzzled his nose against your cheek softly before thrusting up into you with everything he had. An earth shattering scream poured from your throat as he filled you to the hilt. His thrusts were quick and hard, but sharp. He released your hands for your hips, holding you up as he continued his assault inside you. Your fingers tangled in his hair as your other hand created small crescent shaped indentions in his skin, almost to the point of drawing blood at the pleasure you were receiving.

His legs began to tremble as they grew weaker with each thrust. He lowered both of you to the floor, allowing you to take control.

You rotated your hips slowly, making him shudder beneath you. His hands rested at your thighs, sliding up to your breasts as you began to rock against his length. His mouth gaped open as the familiar tightening of your muscles set in. He needed for you to let go first, his eyes plead with yours to make up for the words he cannot speak.

You bit your lip hard as your eyes lulled back, and you lost control around him. His hips met yours one last time before he cried out your name, quaking and trembling as his orgasm took over.

Your tired body fell on top of him, both of your breathing and rapid heartbeats synchronized. Dane pushed the hair from your face, kissing your head gently and smiling to himself.

You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest.

“This isn’t going to be our last night together, is it?”

He shook his head and smiled innocently at you.

“Not a chance.”

*Note: This was originally a story written for someone else, but i got the permission to re-write it (and change a bit here and there) with Dane*

patronage i // yoongi x reader + jungkook x reader

patronage {part i}
yoongi x reader + jungkook x reader // pg-13 // 1495
you are an aspiring artist; you paint, you write music, you recreate life with every measly tool you have. it is a life filled with passion, but passion does not fill your needs. imagine your surprise then, when a man younger than you–but surely of a higher status—approaches you and offers his patronage.

a/n: this fic exists to make @justanemptydream suffer. but, no, really. this fic will not exist without her! i mean look, she even made a banner for me. she’s also an amazing writer and an amazing person, so do check her blog out. :’)

Part 01 // 02 // 03

Keep reading

I loved you dearest

I know these words would not be enough, to say how much I adore you. My love with utmost importance preceded to wit: these feelings grow stronger as if my chest opened and absorbed you.
-
You do not know how much my love could take, and beyond the expectations of your heart. The ardent need of missing you every moment. Words cannot speak for themselves. They only have the patience to bow down and kneel.
-
With this very moment, I am heartfelt to the moon and the stars. As they belong to you, and all these emancipation resolute my sweet surrender to your lips. If I kiss you, through it and by its own fabric, we weaved the taste and stillness of our desire.
-
No beauty captured my attention or any familiar way: your countenance draw a genuine smile and delight the gentleman in me; your love is my humble abode, the essence of your character, defines the woman in which her benevolence capture my sentiments.
-
I take this premise not as a reparation of my weakness, but a splendor of my valour, and beseech love for all its worth, and kindred spirit: take my love, my hand, my youth and what would encompass your imagination; take it as everlasting. I simply cannot comprehend what affectation, is of proper manner, in the act of expressed devotion. From the buttom of my heart, sweets to sweets. I am falling for you deeply, and without any last breath could endure my sincerest remembrance. I loved you my dearest.


-Chuck Akot

and tragedy strikes again;

Someone once said love overcomes all obstacles; but my obstacle was love and it defeated me.
I bled every crowned jewel bestowed upon heads; my heart shrank to nothing –what is less than dust? What is less than the dirt beneath rich soil?
Even my tears weren’t enough to moisturise this dirt; my growth had been stunned from the thick pools of blood. Blood that turned these white roses red and began wilting; was I the beast in this tale?
No –no, no, I could never tear myself to these pieces. I won’t allow marks of my youth, my past, my brokenness to scar me, to wound me, to erase me. Love conquers all, especially my vulnerable flesh. –this tale still pains me to write, to bleed, to scream, to die (for).
In reality, I am incapable of showing you this pain. Physically, I cannot speak the words of my tragic tale. Emotionally, I can only bleed my heart through these fingers; the hurt was more than I thought it ever would be. I was blinded by a light I once saw in the reflection of sad eyes.
Sad eyes? Weeping, tragic, desolate eyes. They’ll forever haunt me in my dreams, my nightmares, my reality. I find you in everyone, in every lyric, in every cloud that follows me. Lost dogs stalk me home, they feel I am alone, wandering a path my feet will never familiarize.
The world is an embodiment of desolation; and I am its host. These clouds that follow me begin to weep, their water like acid on my skin –reminding me that I can never truly find peace here. This path I follow, or make… does it have an end? If so, where?
Endings can either be painful or helpful… but you know how we end. It happens the same way every time you kiss me goodbye. You keep saying, promising, this will all end, this won’t hurt anymore, but your words pierce my open wounds… and the blood never stops gushing… until we both drown.


collaboration with @awriternamedgreg

The Powers That Be

TITLE: The Powers That Be


CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Twenty-Six


AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki discovering a hidden mutant when he realises they are at risk of being found by S.H.I.E.L.D. who experiments on mutants, he is the one to help them.

RATING: Teen and Up

Time seemed to pass faster on Asgard in Alexia’s opinion, or that is how it felt at least; though that could have been helped in part by every day had a monotony to it; rise, wash, eat, train, eat, train, wash, eat, read, sleep, repeat.

Loki had been forbidden from leaving his rooms for his having accidentally caused Odin to resemble a tarred chicken for half an hour, having chosen to use a mixture impervious to water based solutions due to Alexia’s abilities. However, since Alexia had started the pranks, she thought it was only fair that she go to the library in his stead to retrieve whatever he wanted for the duration of his punishment.

“Are you really as much of a bookworm as you appear, I mean, in the time I have been here, you have eaten your way through what seems to be about a thousand books.” She commented one evening as Loki took three books he had requested from her. “They are not small either, how long will they take you to read?”

“About a day each, they are substantially bigger than most others. And, it is closer to twelve hundred, for the record, by the way. As for my incessant reading, it is not like I have much of a choice, what else am I to do? I am not permitted my magic, which was something I always spent vast amounts of my time perfecting, and I cannot even train physically.”

Keep reading

Unadulterated Crack Part 10

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Word Count: 1,164

Warnings: Angst

Part 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10  (here)— Part 11Part 12


Originally posted by thorinoakenshieldconfessions

 As the Company prepared in secret to leave Rivendell, Thorin came up to you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulled you flush against him, and whispered, “It is doubtful you and I will have time to a lot for love making from here on out, let alone get enough privacy to be intimate with one another.”

     “That’s alright, you can have me thoroughly once we get to Erebor.” You affirm him.

 He looks at you longingly, you purr, “You’re not missing my touch yet are you, mein Schatz?” twirling some of his beard hair around your finger in a playful manner.

     Thorin confirms, “I do miss it. I have considered stopping this quest to steal you back to Ered Luin,where you will be safe, and where we can live in peace and safety, and have a family together. I am still fighting with myself about it.”     You chide, “Where you will have to constantly be laboring in the towns of humans, who will treat you poorly, and where you will get to see very little of not only myself, but any children we would have. I know that life stressed you out, I feel it in your muscles when I touch you, and I feel how the idea of going back to that makes your heart and head hurt, and your stomach drop. I see it carved on your face, and pouring from your eyes. I hear it in your rich gravelly voice, and the sweet words you speak. Thorin, you cannot fool me, I am in your head, I feel your emotions whirl about wildly. Thorin, you are the leader of the Long Beards, your people look up to you. You should put their needs before your own, and do what you think is best for them. Even if it means you have to risk not only your own life, but the life of your One. I have no one from my culture, or even my planet to take care of, fall back on, or talk to. You and the Company have been so kind to me and accepted me, all of you more or less have become the closest thing I have to a family in this world. I have long since decided I will fight to my last breath to help and protect them and what they are fighting for. Which is aiding you in doing right by your people, I will not allow you to stop this quest just because you want to take me to Ered Luin. I will go fight Smaug on my own, if you even try. I would not be able to forgive myself for making you feel that you must torment yourself by going back to the life that causes you such misery, and grief. So listen, and listen good Thorin, you are not going to sweep me off to Ered Luin. You are going to march that magnificent ass of yours to Erebor, and you are going to reclaim it. I know you regret that your nephews grew up not knowing the halls of your forebears, I do not think you’d want any child of yours to be born and raised outside of the lonely mountain. Do I make myself clear?” Thorin merely nodded his head, and went to help the others.

         When a month passed and Aunt Flow did not stop by, you grew nervous, and fearful. You and Thorin had not been responsible as you should have, you did not use protection during love making. You quietly snuck away periodically over the course of a week to take some of those at home pregnancy tests . You took twenty one in total. One in the morning, one at noon, and one at bed time. Out of those twenty one tests eighteen of them came out positive, three of them came out inconclusive, and one was negative. The morning after taking the last test you realized you had absolutely no idea about a human pregnancy let alone a dwarvish one or a half-human and half-dwarvish pregnancy. You could not just tell Thorin that you were pregnant, he’d most certainly either stop the quest to attempt to drag you back to Ered Luin, or leave you somewhere “safe” and continue the quest without you. Neither of which you could allow, because Bilbo needed to get the one ring from Gollum so Middle Earth would be free of Sauron in eighty or so years, and Thorin needs to reclaim the mountain. During which you needed to be by his side to prevent him from dying.
    You decided to keep it a secret until after the Battle of Five Armies. But until then you could not just ignore the fact that you are pregnant, it would be bad for the baby’s health, and would be irresponsible of you to neglect it. You needed help and guidance of someone familiar with experience in pregnancy. The only people you could trust with the information that you were almost certainly pregnant with Thorin’s child were Gandalf, Bilbo, Oin, and maybe Balin, Gloin, or Bombur. However seeing as Gandalf was not here to guide you through this with subtly and charm, and Bilbo probably had no idea about a pregnancy other than a hobbit child that thinned your options. They were your first two picks seeing as they did not owe the noisy father of your child any allegiance what so ever.

         You were left no other option but to speak with the Dwarves about it. Oin was probably your best bet seeing as the chemist served as the Company’s impromptu healer. He also probably wouldn’t tell Thorin immediately after learning about the babe, seeing as he could not do so if you looped him into a verbal contract which the dwarves took very seriously. Although Oin has repeatedly told you that he specializes in bumps, and bruises, and some illnesses of Dwarves, and that you, Bilbo, and Gandalf were kind of shit out of luck. Not to mention he does not have any children of his own, and neither does Balin. However Balin would be his sweet, patient, and understanding self, and would be there to comfort you, and possibly teach you to tactfully and subtly hide this from Thorin and the others. However he also told Thorin just about everything, and refused to lie to him. So that left you with Gloin, and Bombur. Gloin has Gimil, but he was kind of a loud mouth, and was bad at keeping secrets, and his composure. Bombur on the other hand has fourteen children, so the dude clearly knows what he’s doing. Bombur also does not talk to Thorin much, and visa versa, Bombur doesn’t talk very much at all now that you think about it. You could feel stress welling up in your throat, and start to make your stomach churn.  You finally decide to talk to Bilbo first, and see what he thinks and knows.


Part 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10 (here) — Part 11Part 12


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There’s Something You Should Know


From a young age, you never knew who your real father was. The older you get, the more it eats away. Your mother never thought to tell you who he is not even in her last moments. When she passed, you moved in with your godfather, Bruce Wayne. Bruce has always felt like a father to you from the very beginning. He was a close friend of your mother and made a promise to her that he would take care of you. 

Growing up in Wayne Manor with Bruce and Alfred as your guardians has made you feel forever grateful towards them both. They are your family now. However, that doesn’t change the fact that you feel like half of you is missing. You long to find out who your father is. Is he alive? Does he live in Gotham or does he not? There are so many unanswered questions and lately, they have been frustrating you. Bruce and Alfred have become very much aware of that fact. They have been keeping a close eye on you, monitoring everything you do. It is likely they know that you are trying to track down your father yourself. 

Bruce trained you as Robin, just like Dick Grayson and Jason Todd before you. Providing you with the skills you need in order to fight crime in Gotham. These skills should help you locate your father if he is still out there. The two of you return to the cave in the batmobile after an eventful night patrol. You are quick to remove yourself from the vehicle, ready to storm off to your room. Alfred braces himself for what is to come. The arguments between the two of you are growing more frequent. 

“Y/n, I’m not done talking to you!” Bruce calls after you, removing the cowl from his face. 

“Well, I’m done talking to you, Bruce!” You turn around on the ball of your foot and remove your green domino mask. 

“You allowed yourself to become distracted, again.” He sounds displeased by your efforts tonight. 

“I wouldn’t be if you just told me who he is already!” You march right up to him, your chest moving up and down rapidly from anger. “I know that you know something about my father. Why won’t you just tell me?” 

“Your mother didn’t want you to know.” He simply states, showing no sympathy. “I am respecting her wishes.” 

“What about mine?!” You attempt to shove him but his body doesn’t even shift. Bruce remains silent but maintains his eye contact. “No wonder Dick left.” On the outside, he doesn’t show the pain caused by your comment. You shake your head at him, turn around and walk away, your cape flowing behind you. 

As you leave the cave Bruce’s expression turns into one of concern. He has seen rage like that before, it is all too familiar. If you continue to distract yourself from the mission you will surely get yourself killed. That is what worries Bruce so much, he doesn’t want you to face the same fate as Jason did. He slumps down into his chair in front of the bat computer. 

“I know it’s not really my place to say, Sir.” Alfred stands by his side, hands behind his back. “But perhaps you should tell Miss y/n what she needs to know.” He advises. 

“What if I lose her, Alfred?” Bruce turns in his chair in order to face his closest friend. “She will hate me for lying to her all this time.” He sounds so convinced of himself. 

“There’s only one way to know for sure, Master Bruce. It is what needs to be done. Otherwise, you will surely lose her.” Alfred urges him to tell you the truth before it is too late. 

Bruce gives him a nod of understanding. “If you don’t mind, I would like some time alone to think.” 

“Very well, Master Bruce.” 

Keep reading

2017 truly isn’t Jackson’s year. I hope his world will be bright again.

My grandma passed away last May and I’m still in the recovery of her loss. Although I don’t know Jackson personally, I understand what he is going through and the loss of a loved one gives you such an ineffable pain that words cannot speak for themselves.

It’s imperative that he stays with his family and even more, he does not have the spirit or energy to make interactions with fans. I hope fans give him space AND privacy when he travels to the airport. Even if you want to express your condolences to him, please give him space and don’t film him. That’s the last thing he would want at this time of grievance.

I know this will take lots of healing and recovery and I hope he finds light in his world again.

Oberyn x Tyrell Reader Imagine

[Imagine: Oberyn and you often team up to pick off your enemies one by one but you’re being caught. You return with your tongue cut out for spying and Oberyn swears revenge.]

You notice that Oberyn casts a much larger shadow than you as you walk by his side. They should be here, you think. 
You look at him and he smiles at you. You smile back. It’s a mischievous smile. How many times have you gone through your plan? Nothing can go wrong. Absolutely nothing.

“Even in these common clothes you still look like the damn Prince of Dorne.”, you say. 
“And your doe eyes tell everyone the story of how you’re a Tyrell from Highgarden.”, he replies jokingly. He is right, though.
It’s not the first time that you do this. How many men have Oberyn and you killed for venegance? And every single one of them deserved it.
“We should get a name.”, you propose. “The Snake and the Rose? No, the Rose and the Snake. I’m more important than you.”
Oberyn laughs out loud but it cannot be heard because of all the noises from the city. “Isn’t it embarrassing enough that your banner shows a rose?”
“Isn’t it embarrassing that you laced your left shoe…wrong?”, you ask laughing, too.

But then you get serious. “There he is.”, you whisper to Oberyn. “You see him? The bald man in the grey shirt, there.”
You grab your daggers while Oberyn grabs his spear.
Why is he walking alone among commoners?, you ask yourself.
But before you can think of an answer, you feel someone grabbing you from behind and you scream.
Oberyn turns around, shocked and then you both understand - it’s a trap.
The Prince throws his spear at the man pulling you away from him and you keep screaming. But then a dozend men get between you and you cannot see him anymore.
“OBERYN!”, you scream as loud as you can. “OBERYN, OBERYN!”
“(Y/N)!”, you hear him screaming. “(Y/N)!”
“HELP ME!”, you scream with the last bit of air in your lungs.
“(Y/N)!”, you hear him but his voice changed.
Your heart is about to burst. At least this is what it feels like.
What you cannot know is that Oberyn has no chance alone against so many. 
You don’t know that he is crying, screaming your name. You never saw him cry. In all the years - not a single time.
This time you won’t, either.

“Let me go.”, you whisper. They cuffed you and locked you into a dark room but you have no idea where you are.
The last few hours you spent trying not to cry while they punched you, kicked you, over and over again, asking you for information.
“What do you know?”, the man asks. He’s wearing a mask and you cannot see his face through it. All of the others left the room when they had enough of your screams.
“I told you I don’t know anything.”, you groan in agony.
He slaps you again. You cough blood again.
“I know who you are. I know who he is. I know what you do. So speak up, tell me everything and I will let you go.”
You laugh. “You won’t let me go.”
“You were the one who killed Amory Lorch.”, the man says.
“I was.”, you reply. “And it was more satisfying than anything else.”
This time he doesn’t slap you. He kicks you in the ribs and you scream again.
You will die here, you think.
“Wh - what is it t-that you want to - want to know.”, you ask after a few minutes.
“I want you to confess.”, he says. You stare blankly. 
“Confess that you spread the rumours about Queen Cersei and her brother Jaime. Confess it.”, he demands.
“No rumours.”, you groan. “They actually fuck.”
The last thing you see is his fist. No pain. Just darkness.

Oberyn Martell was always mad. Passionate. Some might say insane.
But over your abduction it got worse.
It’s been four days now. He sent men to get you back but they cannot find you.
He looks for you every day, waits for you.
He loves you. He never really told you he did and now he regrets it.
“It must have been the Lannisters.”, he says to his daughter Obara. “They need her silence.”
“We will kill every single lion in the realm.”, she says quietly.
“Not enough.”, Oberyn says. “We will feed them to lions. I will watch them all die. if they touched her I’m going to kill them. No mercy.”
“Father - (Y/N) is -”
“I want to know what they do to her. I’m going to do all of this to them.”
“You love her, don’t you?”, Obara whispers. Oberyn turns around to her.
It means yes. Obara knows.

You wake up. Have you died?
As you open your eyes you realize where you are: In the desert. Where the snakes are. They brought you here to die.
You scream.
It’s pain. Pain and something else. You can’t feel your tongue. You try to touch it with your fingers but it isn’t there.
The immense pain is caused by the wound, the hole in your mouth.
They cut out your tongue.
Blood everywhere. 
You start to cry hysterically, you cannot breathe. And you pass out again.

You wake up again and you’re sure you’re dead. You lie in a soft blanket, in a light room, you hear the ocean.
“(Y/N)?” It’s him. Oberyn. His voice, saying your name.
You open your mouth to speak but you cannot say a word. Nothing.
They cut out your tongue.
“Love, you’re safe now.”, he whispers and takes your hand.
You cry again. You cannot speak, you cannot say a single word, nothing.
“I will kill them all.”, Oberyn says, kissing your forehead. “I will rip them apart, every single one of them. I will kill everyone who had something to do with that. I promise. I will avenge you.”
He cries.
Oberyn Martell cries.