unspeakable acts

Uncensored - Shiro x Reader

Prompt: Shiro’s s/o swears like a fucking sailor and has to explain the meaning of the word ‘Fuck’ to the Alteans. 

“Jesus fucking Christ and a holy fucking cunt nugget! What the actual fucking shit! Who moved the motherfucking table guys? Holy fucking fuck that fucking hurt!” You cried out cradling your foot that you had just stubbed on the table that was definitely placed a couple inches further the last time you were in this room. The entire room turned its attention to you as expletives flew out of your mouth at an alarming rate.

“Oh my god [Y/N]! There are children here! Can you not swear so much in front of them?” Shiro chastised after a few moments of stunned silence.

“Jesus fucking christ Shiro they went to public school it isn’t like they have never heard a curse word in their lives calm your tits” You argued. Shiro gave you a look of disapproval at your continued use of swears.

“Yeah Shiro, we curse all the fucking time just not around.” Pidge piped up. Shiro’s eyes widen in shock and he raised his eyebrows disapprovingly at her.

“You see this? You’re a bad influence.” Shiro said to you, gesturing to Pidge.

“Question:” Coran interrupted stepping between you and Shiro. “Can someone define the word ‘fuck’ for us? We are very confused.” Coran said looking between you and Allura’s equally confused expression. The paladins that still had shame left in their bodies turned various shades of red at trying to explain the meaning of such a dirty word. You however had no shame or shits left in you body.

“It’s a common human explicit for sexual intercourse.” You explained without so much as a blush. Shiro however started to turn bright red.

“Fucking shit? Jesus fucking christ? All the fucking time? Also another question, Shiro what is a ‘tit’ and why does [Y/N] want you to calm them?“ Allura questioned. If it was possible, Shiro turned even brighter. He was in no state to answer Allura’s innocent semantics question so you opened your mouth to answer her question.

“Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.” Shiro’s voice lowered dangerously, his gaze heatedly fixed on you. You have to admit your breathing stopped for a minute there.

Holy fuck he was so fucking hot when he swore.

You and Shiro exchanged a shared look of pure white hot lust before you turned on your heel and sprinted away from the common area to Shiro’s room. Shiro ran after you, hot on your heels.

“Where are they going?” Allura asked.

“I’m no expert but if I had to take a guess …” Keith started. “They’re going to do an unspeakable four letter act.”

“Gross.” Pidge sneered.

MADical Items! The Strongest Items you'll never want to touch.

[Read the original thread here.]

Beautybane Blade (by ArchRain)

Legendary Item +3 Longsword. Requires Attunement by a Druid, Ranger, Oath of the Ancients Paladin or Cleric of the Nature Domain. If ever attuned a Character can never gain further levels in the aforementioned class. The character gains the ability to cast the Cantrip Druidcraft, learning another cantrip from the Druid Spell list if they already possess it and gain the ability to cast the spell Shillelagh targeting only this weapon. When the blade is drawn the DM calculates and announces a +1 for every Acre of Grass or Flowers, 100 trees and population of animals equaling either 100 Creatures or two CR within immediate unaided view of the Character with a maximum of +5 from these features to attack rolls. Whenever an attack is made with this weapon one of the aforementioned features instantly dies and the bonus is reduced by one. When this weapon critically strikes the opponent can expend two uses of the Legendary Save feature or instantly die. After killing an enemy with this weapon all party members lose inspiration or go to -1 inspiration if they had none available and the user cannot cast spells from their attuned class’s spell list for the next week. Furthermore the DM randomly determines which prominent flower across the world instantly wilts and rots away.

Why it’s fucking horrible: It visibly blights the land around you, permanently destroys a beautiful lifeform and leaves anything that survives in a horrible depressed state. There are no cheers and applause when you strike down an enemy with this blade. Only the quiet sobbing of the Universe. Why it’s worth using: It’s overpowered, edgy and cinematic.

Umbral Stone (by ignoringImpossibru)

Wondrous item, very rare. Any creature that makes contact with the crystal surface is instantly transported to Shadowfell, as if affected by the plane shift spell. Any time this effect is triggered, roll 1d20. On a 1, this location becomes a permanent gate to the plane of Shadowfell, open only under a new moon at midnight.

If the Umbral Stone is fashioned into any sort of melee weapon, treat it as a +1 weapon of that type, and trigger it’s effect on hit.

Twilight’s Cut (by Bluesamurai33)

This +3 weapon visibly distorts the air around it with waves of magical energy, similar to heat rising off a hot surface. An intricate handle made of Black Wood inlaid with Obsidian and Cold Iron meets with an axe head formed from the metal of a fallen star and granted power from a long forgotten Archmage.

In order to attune, a memory of a person, place or thing must be voluntarily surrendered to the blade each day at sunset in order for the attunement to happen. The wielder cannot offer up memories formed while attuned to this weapon. These memories can never be restored by any form of magic. While attuned, the user is shielded from any magic or effect that would effect their mind. Anyone who witnesses this blade being used must roll a WIS Save DC 18 or forget the event entirely.

The blade deals an additional 2d12 Psychic damage on a hit, and the target must make an INT saving throw equal to the psychic damage dealt or be paralyzed until the end of their next turn. Any creature killed by this blade is erased from the knowledge of the planes. No magic, not even a Wish spell can cause anyone to ever remember the creature. Paintings of the creature are unmade, any writing about it is made unreadable by any means and any memories involving them alter to not include them. Even the wielder is left staring at an unknown corpse, with only the knowledge that it was killed by his/her hand, but the who, what, and why of it are lost for all time.

Keep reading


In the beginning of 1986, John Warnock Hinckley, who was serving time in a mental hospital for attempting to assassinate president Ronald Reagan and killing a person in the the progress, exchanged letters with Ted Bundy which was later leaked to the public. Excerpt’s of the letters read:

“… I hope I’m not being rude, but I just saw the article about you in the post, and I thought you could use a friendly word from someone who truly knows firsthand how tough it can be to stand up and tell the world, ‘Look, I’m really sorry, but I just went totally apeshit.’ The paper talks about how you didn’t want to plead insanity at your trial. (Hey, who does?) Like that means you weren’t nuts? (If you ask me, it proves it!) And how you were only doing it on appeal to escape the death penalty. (Duh.) Ted, I heard that same exact baloney, and I got so bummed that i tried to commit suicide three times. So what I really wanted to tell you is, don’t let the bastards get you down. You have as much right to appeal as anyone else, even if you killed and fucked a hundred dead girls. (But why am I telling you that? You went to law school!)”

Ted responded with:

“… I must ask that you refrain from profanity in any future letters. On that day two years ago when I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Saviour, I took the trash out of my life. I can’t un-do my past- I am sorry; I did go non compos mantis- but today I am His Lamb. Look to Him, John. There are no loners in His flock.” 

Hinckley’s response:

“… You think you’re so smart, but who’s going to Yale? Jodie Foster.”

Bundy’s response, which included a cruel mention of one of his victim’s Lisa Levy, who Ted savagely bit multiple times during her attack nearly detaching her nipple from her breast in the progress, reads:

“I don’t know what they’re putting in your pill cup old boy, but one snide joke- for which I now hasten to beg your forgiveness- is no reason to upholster your .22 automatic and strafe a crowd of suits. Take it from a fellow who on more than one occasion bit off more nipple than he could chew. Let go of the anger.”

Hinckley’s third letter to Ted:

“You’re so right about needing to let go of some of our anger. When we lash out, we don’t just hurt other people, we also hurt ourselves. The therapists tell me this all the time, but it means a lot more coming from you.”

Finally, Ted’s last letter sent to Hinckley dated April 21st 1986:

“I received some most disheartening news this week- yet another ruling that I was competent at my trial and thus deserving of the death sentence. It’s always the same: The judge sees my grades, my Boy Scout merit badges, the pamphlet on rape prevention I authored on when I served on the Seattle Crime Prevention Advisory Committee, and finds that I was sane. That these aged, black-robed cretins can’t grasp that a sane man could not have performed such unspeakable acts just slays me…”

Source- Ted Bundy: A Visual Timeline by Rob Dielenberg

Chapter 132 and “the spare” comment

So people are flipping the fuck out over the fact that a) Frances called our!Ciel “the spare” and b) Vincent taking it all in stride, joking they may as well give up the Watchdog title should our!Ciel find himself at the Phantomhive helm. Was it particularly tasteful of them to address our!Ciel in such a blasé, brusque fashion? No. Did they mean it maliciously? No, no they didn’t. They don’t have the gift of hindsight that we as readers do. To them our!Ciel was a young, sickly child who couldn’t even go outside for fear of triggering an asthma attack—who couldn’t even have fencing lessons with Frances because of his weak constitution. (Please note I am NOT disparaging our!Ciel, but even the most devoted Kuro fan will have to recognize this actuality—our!Ciel is not the most robust child out there, as exemplified in canon by the Circus and Campania arcs.)

Furthermore, being the Queen’s Watchdog means executing orders that are both ruthless and necessary. We now know that our!Ciel can behave in such a fashion but back then when the twins were 7, 8 years old? Remember earlier in chapter 132 when Vincent took the twins to inspect the Phantomhive domain? The first thing real!Ciel says after Vincent finishes explaining the duty of a lord is that these tenants will need incentives to keep working the land—a hardline, pragmatic insight befitting a future earl. Yet our!Ciel, once he learns that a lord must “maintain his estate so tenants can be free to devote themselves to their work” worries about keeping everyone satisfied (granting their “wishes”) before wondering how many tenants live on the land. There is a startling difference between the twins in terms of mindset—real!Ciel thinks like an efficient, practical man of business while our!Ciel shows more compassion and thoughtfulness.

A more empathic, gentle approach.

…But these are the exact same sentiments that will get you killed if you’re the Queen’s Watchdog. To Vincent (and probably Frances, since she is Vincent’s sister and he has entrusted her with the training of his heir), our!Ciel probably seems far too softhearted and humane to ever fit the merciless, cutthroat role of Earl Phantomhive. I mean can you really blame Vincent? All his life (up until the fire) our!Ciel has been sweet, caring, obedient, and delicate—he’s shy around strangers, lacks the extroverted charm of his older brother, and his greatest dream is to open a toy shop so he can give joy to other young children.

Does this really sound like the type of kid who could one day kill with impunity, watch others bleed to death before him, and burn down an entire mansion filled with lobotomized children? Vincent and Frances are not trying to be spiteful, cruel, or demeaning—they’ve simply observed the twins, recognized their strengths and weaknesses, and are now discussing the very real possibility of what would happen if real!Ciel were to die. Morbid? Yes. But this was 19th century, lifespans were short and Vincent’s occupation as the Queen’s Watchdog leaves no room for error.

And, in a strange, inconspicuous way, Vincent may also be trying to protect our!Ciel. We know Queen Victoria is a dangerous individual not prone to softer emotions of forgiveness or understanding (i.e. Murder arc) and Vincent, who’s had direct contact with Victoria (thus giving him a chance to observe, catalogue, and analyze her in person), knows that the Phantomhives are disposable tools of the crown. If one of his sons were to mess up then they’d be eradicated and mercy—that odd, human concept—wouldn’t even be considered.

We as readers know our!Ciel is capable—probably more so than real!Ciel—but three years ago, when happiness was still possible and the Phantomhive twins were devoted to one another? The wickedness of what will one day come to pass seems not only farfetched but cruel—for why would you ever force a child like our!Ciel to abandon his innocence in favor of pitiless indifference and demonic power? We cannot fault Vincent and Frances for speaking of our!Ciel in those terms (“the spare”) because, in many ways, Vincent and Frances were also right. Undertaker explicitly says in the Weston arc that our!Ciel is different from his ancestors—a fact that our!Ciel proved when he rescued Joanne Harcourt even though such a task was both unnecessary and foolish. He put his life on the line to rescue Lizzy even though it meant drowning in the cold Atlantic current. Heck he stared death in the face with Madam Red, in the throes of anger, grief, and insanity was ready to stab him to death and he ordered Sebastian not to hurt his aunt. 

Even after going through hell and back, there is still compassion inside our eyepatch wearing protagonist, he is still capable of pity, sentiment, and warmth. Our!Ciel has elevated himself beyond the scope of what his father and aunt thought possible, he has achieved momentous triumphs and committed unspeakable acts of horror but we CANNOT judge Vincent and Frances’s comments—made more than 3+ years ago—as hateful or heartless. In their eyes, they were assessing the shy, soft-spoken younger twin—not the tenacious, sharp-tongued, unflinchingly clever Queen’s Watchdog we know and admire. 

anonymous asked:

Can you list the skelebaes in the order of who you like the most ;)

Ah! I honestly don’t know if I can choose, because I love them all so very much! These silly skeles are my life, but if I HAD to rank them, the list would probably look like this (in order of least favorite to favorite)

Now don’t get me wrong. I ADORE the tiny tyrant and his adorkable bravado, but I feel like the other skele-bros are just a little deeper then him. Would I still smooch him? 10/10 yes I would.

I love this tsundere marshmallow with all of my heart, honestly, but I could also say the same about all the skele-bros. He’s adorable, but I can’t really get over his abuse towards Red.

Is there any explanation needed? Blueberry is one of the most adorable, sqishable monsters ever, and I kind of have this unquenchable urge to hug him, like, all the time. He’s also kind of a closet freak (like me!), and it’s just too perfect for words.

This poor, apathic skeleton is fantastic for a lot of reasons. He has terrible habits that I’m absolutely in love with, and he’s certainly got enough dad jokes, sarcasm, and issues to go around. Also, he’s lanky, and that’s kind of a turn on.

So this guy was certainly not at the top of my list when I first thought of it, but the more I thought about it the more I realized I’m kind of in actual love with him. He’s everything I love about Stretch and Red mixed into one. Outwardly, he seems confident, flirty, and sarcastic, but he’s really just kind of broken on the inside.

…heh, just like me.


… He’s the great Papyrus.
‘Nough said.
Seriously, though, this guy makes my day. He’s just such an entergetic, slightly overwhelming sweetheart, one who’s always somehow smiling. He’s the most precious gift from the Lord above, and an absolute cinnamon roll.

I’m pretty sure we all saw this coming, but here he is! This bastard of a skeleton is a terrible person, with a stupidly sexy Brooklyn drawl that never fails to make me swoon. He’s a flirty hothead who loves dark humor, hates himself, drinks far too much, and is a kinky little SOB that I’d honestly marry the heck out of. He’s honestly perfect.

And for my number one (drumroll please)
Sans. Oh, my poor, poor Sans. He’s the reason I got into the fandom in the first place, and I fell in love with him the moment he first punned. From his lazy grins and stupid puns down to his inner demons and the unfathomable darkness he’s seen, he’s just… Everything. God, I love him. He’s so complex, and I’ve never met a charater I love more them him.

… I think I might have a problem.

The Maid

Originally posted by ram-me-bolton

Imagine: Being one of Ramsay’s maids and he has a thing for you.

Warnings: Smut/ if you’re uncomfortable with Ramsay fic you probably shouldn’t read this lol

You had a job that most would fear. You worked for Lord Ramsay Bolton, who had a notorious for his cruelty. You’ve witnessed some of the unspeakable acts he’s done yourself. Even just the bit you’ve seen would be enough to make the bravest man quiver.

Out of all the terrible things Ramsay has done, however, none of them were ever directed at you. He seemed to have a soft spot, albeit a very small one, for his maids. He never physically hurt any of you, though the other maids weren’t safe from his verbal abuse. You, however, he never said a word against.

“He totally has a thing for you, y/n,” Nyssa, one of your fellow maids, insisted. The topic came up again, as it always seems to, as you worked on cleaning the lord’s clothes. When Ramsay wasn’t cruel, it got people’s attention.

You shook your head dismissively. “I don’t believe so. Maybe I just haven’t done anything to upset him.”

The other maid, Marcelle, snorted. “Oh come on y/n, we both know it doesn’t take much to upset Ramsay. Anything can set him off, there is a reason why he’s never been angry at you,” she replied, her voice just a whisper. It would not be good to be caught taking badly about the lord.

“I just don’t see it,” you replied, hoping it would end the conversation. Of course it didn’t.

“Well I do,” Nyssa replied, “I’ve seen the way he’s looked at you. That man wants you.” You shrugged, keeping your head down so they wouldn’t see you blush. You tried to focus on getting the blood Ramsay’s shirt, which came form god knows what horrible act. As much as you hated to admit it, you found Ramsay very attractive. His strong, handsomely structured face, those piercing blue eyes that always seemed to be perfectly framed by dark curls.

It was useless, though, to think of him in that way. He was a lord and you were just a maid. Nothing would ever happen between the two of you, so why bother dreaming about it?

“Y/n,” a husky voice pulled you from your thoughts. It was one of Ramsay’s servants standing in the doorway. “Lord Bolton has requested you in his chambers.” You nodded, handing the shirt you had been cleaning to Marcelle, trying to ignored the smirks between her and Nyssa. You would never hear the end of this.

His servant led you to his chambers, though you knew the way. He opened the door for you, but did not follow you inside. Ramsay stood at the far end of the room, staring out the window into a cold, grey day.

“You requested to see me, my lord?” you asked softly. Ramsay turned, giving you one of his famous half smiles.

“I needed someone to make my bed,” he told you, motioning across the room to the twisted sheets on his bed.

“Of course, my lord,” you nodded, though you were confused. You knew Marcelle had already made it this morning. You didn’t dare question Ramsay, as kind as he was towards you, you would never push it. You guessed he could have had a women in his bed between then and now and went to work.

You leaned over the bed, trying to straighten out the mangled sheets. Suddenly, you felt Ramsay pressed against you form behind. The feeling startled you, causing you to lose your footing and fall onto the bed.

You scrambled to turn yourself over, scared you would annoy him. “My lord, I’m so sorry I-”

“Did I scare you?” Ramsay cut you off.

“It was my fault, my lord, I slipped,” you answered quickly, taking the blame.

“Are you scared of me, y/n?” He asked, his cool blue eyes locked on yours. He was watching you carefully.

“Of course not, my lord,” you replied.

He leaned in closer. “Don’t lie to me.” You shivered a little, feeling him so close to you.

You thought over your response carefully. “You have never done me any harm my lord, why should I fear you?”

“Do you know why I never hurt you, y/n?” Ramsay asked, his voice melting with softness.

“Because you’re kind, my lord,” you replied, eliciting a laugh from Ramsay.

“You and I both know that is not true,” he smiled, a hint of darkness flickering across his eyes. He reached up, gingerly pushing a lock of hair out of your eyes. “I’ve had my eye on you for some time now, y/n, and I’ve decided that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” A blush rose to your cheeks from the sweetness of his words.

“Thank you my lord, may I say that you are very handsome,” you told him.

Ramsay chuckled lightly. “I would be upset if you didn’t,” he teased. “I have one last question for you, y/n.” His fingertips brushed lighting over your arms, spreading goosebumps over skin.

“What is that, my lord?”

“Can I fuck you like I’ve been dreaming of for the past couple months?” his voice laced with lust.

“I would be upset if you didn’t,” you repeated his words back to him. He smirked, before attaching his lips to yours. His lips moved hungrily against yours, his hands exploring your body.

You ran your hands up his back, feeling the muscles of his back through his shirt. You twisted your fingers through his dark curls, something you’d always secretly wanted to do. Ramsay moved his lips down your body, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin of your neck. He yanked your dress down, exposing your breasts to him. Ramsay nipped at your collar bones, it was no surprised to you that he liked to use his teeth.

Finally he moved to your breasts, running his tongue along the soft tissue. You let out a soft moan under his touch. The sound excited Ramsay, you could feel his bulge pressing against your leg. He pulled your dress off completely, taking a second to admire your body.

“Better than I imagined,” Ramsay said, biting his lip.

“You imagine me naked often, my lord?” you smirked.

“You have no idea.” He dragged his finger over your heat, pulling a gasp from your lips. He slipped a finger into you, pumping it quickly. He used his thumb to press circles over your clit.

“Ramsay,” you moaned. You tensed for a second, nervous that calling him by his name may upset him.

“I love it when you say my name,” his voice a low, lusty groan. You relaxed again, feeling the pleasure building quickly.

“I-I’m close,” you gasped, as Ramsay’s fingers worked quickly against you.

“Oh, y/n, you’re not done yet.” Ramsay teased, removing his finger from you. He quickly rid himself of his clothes. Your eyes ran over his toned body, pausing at his hardened length. The sight of him alone sent a tingle down your spine.

Ramsay lined himself up to your aching entrance and pushed himself inside you. You let out a low hiss as you adjusted to his size. He immediately began thrusting into, establishing a quick pace. It wasn’t long before you felt yourself moving closer to the edge.

“Fuck Ramsay,” you moaned, clawing at his back as pounded into you.

“Cum for me, y/n,” Ramsay demanded. With one final hard thrust, you felt you orgasm take over your body, filling you with complete bliss. Seeing you quiver beneath him was enough to send him over the edge. He let out a deep growl as he released himself in you.

Once you both finished Ramsay rolled off you and pressed his lips to your forehead. “I think you will have to make my bed more often,” Ramsay smirked.

“I’d like that, my lord,” you replied with a smile. You both decided you needed to get back to work, or it would start to look suspicious, though Ramsay promised that it wouldn’t be long before you were together again. You couldn’t help by smile as you got dressed, your only worry now being how the hell you were going to face Nyssa and Marcelle.

a/n: requests are open!

anonymous asked:

What would your response be to ppl saying that Clarke betraying the Grounders in the last episode is exactly like Lexa leaving the skaikru in Mt. Weather? I haven't watched this season so idk all the details of what went down with that bunker business and my hunch is that those ppl (i.e. blarkes) are once again twisting/over simplifying things to demonize Lexa/prop up blarke (they think the purpose of the "parallel" is to bash Lexa and present Bell as the real hero who will "correct" Clarke)

My response would be filled with very impolite words but I’m not gonna do that. Instead, I’m just gonna explain how that parallel not only is wrong, but it’s nonexistent. People are so busy demonizing characters that they miss what the show has been literally screaming at us for a few episodes now.

So, if you pay attention, you’ll notice how evident it is that the parallel everyone is looking for isn’t with Lexa, but instead, with the Mountain Men.

But let me go in order. Throughout this season (and even before if we consider all the interviews on this topic) it has been made clear what Clarke’s approach to the upcoming apocalypse would be: try to save everyone. No more Grounders vs Skaikru, us vs them. She transcended tribalism, as it was repeated more than once. Now, while I do believe this is something Clarke already had in her (not as much as some people in the fandom seem to think, but that’s a story for another post), this progress has been shown as a consequence of her relationship with Lexa. Even ignoring the romantic aspect of it for a moment, they did change each other for the better, and Clarke witnessed Lexa’s vision of unity and peace. 

Now, we get to season 4, and not only Clarke is grieving for Lexa, she wants to honor her as well. Throughout the season, Lexa is mentioned multiple times in relation to Clarke, and in a positive light. To make some examples

– She and her legacy are recognized and honored even by past enemies. (x)

– Clarke wants to try to save not only just her people but everyone, as many as she can. Admirable aspiration, which is recognized as something Lexa believed in as well, something she would be proud of. (x)

– We’re yet again reminded of Lexa’s vision. She made the Coalition. She wanted unity because she wanted peace and safety for all clans. Also in this same scene, Indra mentions that if Lexa were there, the other clans might have followed her, and also that Lexa was the only reason a war hadn’t happened before. So, we see that Lexa’s presence could have avoided several conflicts and problems during such a critical situation. So again, a positive mention. (x)

Now, we’ve seen Clarke being very much in line with Lexa, which has been shown a good thing. But there is another scene Lexa is mentioned in that is worth talking about. The discussion between Clarke and Roan in 405. (x)

The first time in s4 we see Clarke possibly reverting back to tribalism, it is portrayed negatively. Roan literally calls her out. And yes, it was a backup plan, but Clarke’s face during Roan’s speech makes it pretty obvious that there is some truth about her in what he is saying.

Now, why did I mention all this? Because I needed to make clear how Lexa and her vision and her legacy are being showcased. Again, in a positive way. Because what Clarke chose to do in 410 wasn’t influenced by Lexa, it wasn’t a parallel to Lexa’s betrayal in 215. It was a parallel to something else, to someone else. Who?

Dante Wallace. More in general, the Mountain Men.

Honestly, it’s right there. Literally spelled out by the show, and more than once.

Clarke has good intentions. We’ve seen it throughout the season. But also the apocalypse is coming and the stakes are insanely high and she keeps on losing hope. We see how all this is taking a toll on her, how it’s literally eroding her, and the harder it gets the more she slips back into a “we have no choice” mentality. We’re not supposed to see that in a good light. We’re supposed to be disturbed. And here comes the negative parallel. 

First, episode 408. Clarke decides to test the nightblood and radiation on the grounder scavenger, finding some sort of moral consolation in the fact that he’s a horrible person who tortured Emori (she doesn’t know it’s a lie). When the truth is revealed, Emori is chosen as the next one to test/sacrifice. This time, Clarke has no excuses. Nothing other than humanity will die if they don’t find a solution. Now, what other people would have been doomed to death (by radiation nevertheless) without committing unspeakable acts in order to ensure their survival? That’s right. The Mountain Men. The parallel becomes even more evident when Luna refuses to give them other bone marrow and they knock her out, strap her down and take it by force. As Raven says (x)

In this particular case, the final outcome is less grim than it could have been. Clarke doesn’t go all the way, she decides to inject herself instead of doing it to Emori. Through the episode, we see her being plagued by what she is about to do. She can’t even look at Murphy, we see her doubting her own choice, meditating on it. And eventually, she chooses not to do it. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that she ends up changing her mind after Roan mentions Lexa. Lexa is a reminder of what she’s been trying to accomplish, of who she’s been trying to be. At least, that’s how I see it. 

And once we get to Clarke injecting herself, she repeats Dante’s words. “I bear it so they don’t have to.” In doing what she does, she retains some of her morality, but also, it’s the first sign of the direct correlation being established between Clarke and Dante. When you think about it, she is doing what he was planning to do if his people had eventually left Mt Weather. He wanted to stay inside, to sacrifice himself. Here, Clarke is sacrificing herself as well.

And finally, we get to 410. Clarke’s “transformation”, so to speak, is complete. Now, I’ll try to make this as evident as possible going step by step.

  1. At the beginning of the episode, she’s still holding on to her plan/ethic (we have to try to save everyone). 
  2. Enters the threat of Luna.
  3. Jaha instills fear about the death of their people.
  4. Clarke initially ignores it and goes to talk to Roan but he won’t listen.
  5. Clarke makes up her mind and decides to steal the bunker.

This is 410. Now look at 215, from Dante’s perspective.

  1. Dante has been refusing to have any part in the killing of the 48, which means he’s holding on to his ethic. 
  2. Enters the threat of Lexa and Clarke, ready to break into Mt Weather with an army.
  3. Cage instills fear about the death of their people.
  4. Dante initially ignores him.
  5. Dante changes his mind and suggests a plan to save his people (deal with Lexa)

It’s so incredibly linear. Clarke and Jaha become a mirror image of Dante and Cage. And to make sure it’s clear, at the end of the episode, Octavia literally says

This is the parallel. This is the negative influence. Lexa is nowhere to be found here, if not in the fact that by doing this, Clarke, who wanted to honor Lexa’s legacy, is now literally betraying it. She has turned into what used to be the Grounders’ and Lexa’s greatest enemy. 

That’s it. This is what I think that scene and Clarke’s arc are supposed to mean. To analyze it further, we can only wait for next episode, when we’re going to see the repercussions of this choice and we’re probably going to delve into Clarke’s psyche much more.

In regards to Bellamy, again, I think the best thing to do is to wait for the next episode to air and then see.

But this is my answer. I hope I made my thoughts clear enough.

Copy/pasted from a friend

Please stop calling terrorists mentally ill.
- You’re not their doctor.
- Mentally ill people are more likely to be abused than to be abusers.
- People most often commit unspeakable acts of violence under sound body and mind.
- Being ‘disturbed’ is not the same as being mentally ill.
- Being mentally ill does not mean a person is 'unstable.’
- You are not a doctor.

There are so many ambiguous lines in The Force Awakens, that it makes my head spin. So many scenes that have hidden meanings, or purposefully flow into another scene that makes you on a subconscious level see the parallels. Combine those scenes with the novelization, and each time I watch it I see/hear something I hadn’t noticed before. A few lines that stand out to me:

1) ‘We’re Not Done Yet’. - Star Killer Base is exploding all around them, he just killed his father, he has a MAJOR wound to his side from Chewie’s bowcaster that could make him bleed out, yet Kylo does what? He trudges out into the snow to find the 'traitor’ and Rey. All bets are off here. What did he have to gain/prove by killing/capturing them? What did he think he would do, anyway? Try to probe Rey’s mind again for the map? Kill Finn for disowning the First Order? Yeah, that was such a high priority at the moment, while his life was literally ending before our eyes. Maybe his anger drove him, or his helplessness at his actions with Han. Maybe he was afraid to come to Snoke empty handed, yet I can’t see how that one holds water. He just killed his father, for God’s sake. He did the ultimate act of proof for that monster that he was obedient. He could have left well enough alone, and lived to fight another day. For all Kylo knew, Finn and Rey might have died on the imploding planet. Problem solved for him. But nope. He went after them, with one intent as far as I can see: He wanted Rey. Dealing with Finn was a distraction. But his words to her, 'We’re not done yet’, were directed to her alone and because even though he might not have known who she was yet (It is you- the novel) he had a good idea from the interrogation and her escape that she was someone important to his future. He was jealous (that she was with Finn) he was angry (that she witnessed what should have been his 'finest’ hour - killing Han, yet he was at his weakest) and he was lost (that he did this unspeakable act that was supposed to make him stronger, only to feel even more guilty, alone, confused, and pulled towards the light). There was NO way he was letting her go without a fight. And I don’t even think he meant to harm her at all. She pulled the blaster on him first, prompting him to save his skin by sending her flying into the tree, and she attacked with Luke’s saber first, prompting him to engage her in a duel. Rey drew first blood.

2) 'The Girl I’ve Heard So Much About’. - Okay. From whom? Unless it was offscreen, in which case they should have included it in the finished cut, because how the hell did he hear so much about 'The Girl’ when the only person who he spoke to about it was Mitaka. Did Mitaka have a dosier on Rey? Did he question everyone at Niima Outpost and learn all about Rey and her non-existent flying skills? Because all he said to Ren were those seven words. All he said was 'The two were accompanied by a girl.’ You’d think that because this 'girl’ was going to play such an important role in Kylo’s life going forward, that we would have been privy to what he’d 'heard’ about her. We don’t see Kylo investigating her, or gathering intel on her after Mitaka tells him this. I can understand his attention when the Stormtrooper said in the Forest that the droid was spotted with the girl, and why he fled to find the one who helped the droid and FN-2187 escape. But his weird line to her, 'The Girl I’ve Heard So Much About’, makes ZERO sense to me. Is it purposefully ambiguous? Are we to think he knows more than we think? Was it an error? Even paralyzed Rey looks at him like, 'Huh?’ How could you possibly know me? It’s this reason that I feel he knows ALL about her, in some way. It’s the only possible explanation for the novels line 'It Is You’. Whether he knows of her but never met her (As JJ Abrams said Rey and Kylo never met), or he feels she is the reason for the Force awakening, or if he’d had visions of her like she had of him, he has to have had some inkling of who Rey was. The fact he flipped out on Mitaka and almost choked him is another indicator. So a girl helped them escape. Was it really so surprising that a Good Samaritan on that planet could have helped Finn and BB8 out? Maybe she was a pilot, or a smuggler. Whatever. His reaction was very telling. He’s heard so much about this girl, because he knows this girl in one way, shape, or form.

3) 'Don’t Be Afraid, I Feel It Too.’ - Yeah. This is probably the most ambiguous line of all. As is the probing look Kylo gives Rey before he voices it. It’s clear to me that he is reacting to whatever Rey is thinking in that moment, and whatever it is, it MUST be something about him. And that something must NOT be negative. Because if she’s thinking 'He’s a creature, a monster, etc. I doubt Kylo’s reaction would be 'Don’t be afraid, I feel it too. If she’s thinking 'I hate him, I want to kill him, etc. again, I doubt his reaction would be 'Don’t be afraid, I feel it too.'He doesn’t hate her, nor want her dead. If he did, she would have been mistreated, bloodied, beaten, raped, or killed. He took care of her before, during, and after the interrogation by seeing no harm came to her. The only conclusion to me on not only why Kylo looked at her with such surprise before he said it and the words he used, was because somewhere in Rey’s mind she felt him interesting, attractive, and she was curious about him the same way he was curious about her. Kylo saw/heard this in her thoughts, and it puzzled him. Anti’s say Rey was terrified in this scene, and that she had no interest in her captor, etc. Yet her reaction speaks for itself. When he removed his mask, she did not look terrified. She looked startled and a bit disoriented. She didn’t expect THAT to be what she had thought a creature. And she seemed pretty self conscious and embarrassed at his calling her a scavenger, yet she usually wore that moniker as a badge of honor. Here he is, a handsome, young, high ranking and probably wealthy officer while she is a dirt poor scavenger who hasn’t had proper nutrition or grooming. In that moment, she was like any woman would be when faced with a man she found attractive despite herself: she was embarrassed that she was a nobody. Yet she held her own pretty damn well with NO help. By the end of the scene, she had the upper hand in every way. After her turning the tables on him, using his greatest fear against him, he could have hurt her or worse. He turned tail and fled to his Master for help. He was afraid of Rey, and needed Snoke’s 'guidance’. The only reason the mind probe hurt was because she resisted so firmly. You’d thiink with his temper, he would have injured her. But no, he never touched her. Why? Because he was already interested in her. Already had COMPASSION for her. And whatever it was he saw in her thoughts, HE FELT IT TOO.

4) 'Rey’. - I’ve shown this scene to friends, family, tumblr friends, my doctor, my mailman, my dry cleaner, etc. They all see and hear what I see and hear. After Rey defeats Kylo and he’s lying in he snow, before he sits up and gives her a look that is equal parts awed, smitten, disbelieving, shocked, and helpless…he moans (probably in exhaustion and pain) and says the word 'Rey’. I’ve heard people say he was just moaning gibberish. Or the word Okay (???) Or it was just a sound of discomfort at his defeat. Whatever. Sure, I’m a Reylo Shipper. And the part of me that WANTS a Reylo pairing to come to fruition would gladly make things up to head in that direction. Yet I’ve seen this scene on my ultra HD tv which is 60 inches and has surround sound, on youtube on my laptop, on my I Phone, on the TV’s at Best Buy (you get the picture) And you cannot tell me in that scene Kylo does not say the word Rey in a voice filled with pride and longing and yes…passion. She’s just bested him (wounded or not) after they 'Found the Force together’. Show of hands of people who thought he would orgasm right there on the edge of that cliff as he watched her meditate. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her Light. Since I think he now 'know’s her, I think he is even more drawn to her and wants her even more. He just begged her to let him be her teacher. So he is pretty stoked to see her use that beautiful rage he finds so attractive in her, even if it was against him. I’d hate to sound like he was fueled by lust in this scene, since it’s a family movie and PG-13. But the way I heard him say Rey? I expected him to light up a cigarette while he was down for the count on his fine ass. I think dueling with her REALLY excited him, and I hope to see more of that in TLJ.

So yeah. I waste a lot of time thinking about these kind of things. All I can say in my defense is if The Powers That Be didn’t want fans to obsess about this kind of stuff, then they shouldn’t do such a good job at leaving things so open to interpretation. :D

What You Deserve

Originally posted by trevanterhodes

Imagine: You and bucky develop a close relationship when you join the team, but it’s put to the test when he accidentally hurts you

warnings: smut, choking (tragically not the sexual kind), angsty if thats a warning? 

a/n: buckle up y’all this is a long one, like 5.3k words long (yikes i know i got really carried away okay) I’m really sorry if it gets typo-y at the end, i’ve been working on this all day and my head hurts and i want to get it out for you guys so i didn’t proof read please for give me. Enjoy!


When you joined the Avengers, you didn’t expect to fall in love. Save the world? Sure. But falling in love was most definitely not on you radar, at least not until you met a certain boy with a mess of brown hair and striking blue eyes.

Bucky was your first friend when you moved into the compound. You were more on the quiet side, very unlike your other team members, who were a rambunctious bunch. It’s what drew you and Bucky together, staying behind while everyone else went out to a club or party.

Keep reading

Humans are Space Orcs: What needs to be done

Humanity has a tendency to try and hide, even from itself, the true depravity that we as a species are capable of. In the years following the Bresadin conflict there were many tribunals dedicated to charging humans for war crimes against enemy and Ally alike.

The worst of these was the remaining crew of the dreadnought Gilgamesh. The events were considered classified until the proceedings that I was sent to record. The proceedings were started like all war tribunals, with a reading of the rights of the defendants.

Through the whole reading the Captain of the Gilgamesh, Captain Phillip Weston, stood in silence. On this date only the captain was to be tried. Since he sanctioned the actions of his crew he was being charged with a combined sentence including: 30 counts of conduct unbecoming an officer, 27 counts of coercion, 48 counts of desecration of a corpse, 232 counts of murder well as a multitude of minor offenses.The captain had already pled guilty to all charges and this was a summary hearing for his sentencing.

The prosecution opened with an account of what was recorded. “I speak to the tribunal on behalf of the war code of conduct held by our great society. I speak so that everyone here may know what this man, who swore to uphold our treaties and laws, has done in the name of our great society. I speak for those who are abhorred by his actions.

“This man before you is responsible for the deaths of 232 prisoners of war. Some of which he personally took the lives of. What is even worse is what he and his crew did to some of these prisoners. As a scare tactic toward the commander of the enemy troops he executed the crew in front of him and let his crew dismembered and consume their flesh. He himself even partook in this vile act! He did these unspeakable acts and told the enemy commander that he would execute the rest painlessly if he gave up intelligence about his armies supply movements. The captive commander eventually gave in and Captain Weston followed through with his promise and executed the remaining survivors.

"With his own guilty testimony the captain faces minimum of life in a hard labor prison. However, I pose to this tribunal that we revive an old Earth punishment of death by firing squad.”

With this the prosecutor bowed and took his seat. Following this the chief of the tribunal responded, “I see your point, however I want to hear from the defendant as to why he did this.”

Captain Weston the stood, walked to the podium and began to speak, not like a savage or some kind of monster from a children’s story. He spoke like a man who is haunted, but full of dignity and devoid of fear.

“I stand before this tribunal guilty of many horrendous crimes. I wish to say that I do feel guilt for those that I have killed. However I believed, and still believe it was necessary.

"I did what I could to bring this war to a quick and decisive end with minimal bloodshed. A fact that the prosecution overlooked in their judgement of me. If it hadn’t been for me and my crew the war would still be happening now and we may have very well lost.

"Speaking of my crew my ship left port with a complement of 1033. By the time of our actions there were only 27 left. Our ship had been adrift for over a week after we had been ambushed. We couldn’t even dispose of our dead after the reactor had gone critical. Most of my crew was suffering from radiation poisoning by the time the enemy ship boarded with us. They thought they would end up with prisoners of war. Instead they found a crew ready to do anything they could to survive.

"We took them by surprise and took their ship. It was a scouting vessel so after we subdued the crew it didn’t take long to realise they had information critical to the war effort. After that I did what I had to. I will not apologize for anything and accept my punishment. I only ask for leniency for my crew. Thank you.”

At this point you could hear a pin drop in a hall full of hundreds of people. Deliberations were short and the Captain was executed the next morning by firing squad. The tribunal did take the captain’s request into account and his remaining crew were sent to psychiatric facilities on earth to be treated for their lingering issues. When the events were made public there was a massive divide between those who agreed with the captain’s actions and those who vilified him.

“What happened in Vegas is an unspeakable tragedy. 💔And these acts of seemingly Random violence are happening With more and more frequency. And the chaos pain and suffering in the world is increasing exponentially. And YES its too easy to buy a GUN in The U.S. or have access to automatic weapons. And this needs to stop!! But the only way we are really going to change the trajectory that the world seems to be heading for is to change our consciousness! 💡 Each and everyone of us……..,,,,, …..,,,.
Let Us Pray for Vegas. And all of the Victims and everyones loss but we also need to Pray for Peace in the World. Personally and Globally. 🌏🌍🌎. Lets Pray for the strength to maintain a higher level of consciousness. ☮️. Let’s Pray that we find a way back to our humanity. Let’s pray that we do not forget to treat all living creatures with compassion dignity and respect. 🙏🏻 and Let’s Pray for Vegas.” -Madonna

I'm sad and want to type out my thoughts

When I read all the nasty things people say about Michael, my heart breaks. Each horrible word people type onto anything with his name or face on it hurts so bad. Then I remember that the pain he must have felt was unbearable. I can’t imagine the heartbreak he endured in this world. The man couldn’t turn on the tv, go online, or look at a magazine without somebody calling him horrible names and accusing him of unspeakable acts. I hate that his children still have to endure it on a daily basis. He was such a beautiful person inside and out and it’s a damn shame what this world did to him

Originally posted by youarenotalone345

Storm Front

Happy Valentine’s Day to my amazing Secret Valentine, @starscythe!!!  I do hope you enjoy this gift, my friend, as you gift us with so many incredible manips all year long. Meeting you in person in November was such a joy, and I hope we can hug in person again in the near future. 

Without further adieu, here is your  @oqcelebration valentine. :D

He’s heard stories, of course, broken whispers whenever a fierce storm blew in unexpectedly, mumbled musings if an acquaintance suddenly fell ill. These are never voiced loudly, as superstition’s lingering hold on the forest proves to be an ominous task master, leaving such wonderings to drift from one listener to the next, more often than not finding fertile ground stripped bare by black magic’s lingering touch.

The Evil Queen’s dark curse had taken many, but there are those among the forest’s remnants who believe she herself still dwells in this realm. They speak of her in hushed fragments, discuss sightings of a dark, solitary figure who roams the forest at night, a cloaked woman who has somehow lost her magic but now lives bound to it, perhaps in just retribution for a curse so foul it emptied their lands and cast both friend and foe into fates unknown.

Robin has never put much stock into superstition, neither does he give credence to legends or fairy lore. His is a world defined by what he can see, touch and confiscate, a world in which people rarely fit into molds of “good” or “evil”, a world in which he’s observed unspeakable acts committed by the most respected of citizens while those judged as lesser are the very ones who offer shelter and food to the starving. He lives by his wits and senses and surrounds himself with a thieving group of outcasts he’d readily give his life to protect.

Yet even he, the infamous Robin Hood, has to admit that the air feels odd tonight, that there is a charge to the impending storm brewing in the eastern highlands that makes the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He senses a disturbance, one that feels altogether too personal and close at hand for comfort. Roland must have felt it, too, for the boy had clung to him as Robin soothed his son’s whimpers until he’d finally fallen into a fitful sleep.

It is enough for him to grudgingly admit that tinges of magic probably remain in his forest, even if the queen is nowhere to be found. Dreams of Marian and of his mother plague his sleep and fill him with sense of urgency altogether foreign, one that pushes him towards consciousness even as his body rebels.

A loud clap of thunder finally awakens him, and he’s surprised to find that he’s drenched in sweat. Roland is still sleeping soundly, but one touch to his son’s forehead reveals that the boy is hot with fever. He holds his child close, drawing the blankets up around him, but he worries as all parents do, even as the wind howls just outside their tent.

Roland needs feverfew tea. Unfortunately, their stashes of medicinal herbs have run dry in light of the recent bout of sickness that have ravaged both his men and their families, and he lies there only minutes before deciding to risk a trip to the lake’s edge to gather what he needs. He wakes Little John and asks his friend to keep an ear and eye out for his son before donning his thickest cloak and disappearing into the forest’s canopy. He’s survived far worse storms than this, he reminds himself, ignoring the tingling sensations skittering up his legs that feel altogether supernatural.

Keep reading

The Joker x Reader - “The Red Queen”

The Joker’s Red Queen is as dangerous and lethal as he is. Her heart is full of secrets and she is capable of unspeakable acts. The Queen of Gotham wouldn’t have survived for so long in his world if not for her perfect instincts and abilities.

“Hey, didn’t see you around before; what’s your name?” you address J, turning your head towards him.

“No talking!” one of the heavily geared soldiers warns, holding tighter to his riffle.

You ignore him, rattling your chains in order to get The Joker’s attention:

“Hey, handsome, are you single?”

“I said no talking!” and the van takes a sharp turn, making you lean on J for a few seconds. “Pardon me, sir,” you sniffle, “it wasn’t on purpose. Do you work out?”

“What did I just tell you, hm?” the guard snaps, getting annoyed with your crap.

The Joker has the most demented grin they ever saw on anybody’s face: he just keeps on looking straight, not saying a word. It makes all 5 of them uncomfortable, even if they’ve seen a few insane things in their line of work.

One of the guards quietly analyzes you:  he didn’t see you in person before and now that you’re right in front of him he can’t help but glare:

You are wearing a two piece red leather suit, pants and sleeveless top, red high hills and your very red and very long hair almost reaches your waist. You have “RED QUEEN” tattooed around your neck with red ink like a choker, the word “Joker” repeatedly going down from it about an inch apart, making look like a necklace. Your left cheek has “King” tattooed with green ink next to a red heart and your right cheek is tattooed with the word “Queen.” More tattoos on your arms, spelling “J+Y/N”, “Red Queen” and “Mister J’s Queen.”

You smirk and he realizes you’re looking back at him.

“You’re cute. Like what you see?” you wink, unraveling your perfect white teeth that stand out even more against the bright red lipstick.

No answer.

“Are you hitting on my woman?” The Clown Prince of Crime finally speaks in such an outworldly tone it almost manifests in physical form. Definitely gave you goosebumps and you love it. Your guardians, not that much.

“I wasn’t doing any…”

“Don’t engage, that’s what they want,” the one that seems in charge reminds the rest of them.

You giggle, then start humming and grab J’s arm:

“Anytime now,” you whisper and your hand gets slapped away by the soldier that was checking you out earlier:

“No touching you damned lunatics!”

“Calm down, we are only here to make sure they get to the destination, it will be over soon,” the guy next to him points out, trying to keep everybody’s temper under control.

“If you touch The Red Queen one more time, you’re dead,” J threatens, the psychotic smug smile returning on his face.

“Shut the hell up, you crazy son of a…” the warden starts his tirade but gets interrupted.

“I said don’t engage, it is exactly what they want!”

“Yes, captain,” the man straightens his back even more, taking a deep breath before regaining his posture.

“Wise words honey,” you agree, smacking your lips. “And if you talk to the King of Gotham in such a disrespectful manner one more time, you’re not going to live through the night,” you crack your shoulders, maintaining an eerie smile.

“Shut up!” you get yelled at once more.

“Nobody…” The Joker’s chest is going up and down faster and faster, “…tells my Queen to shut up except me!!” He’s beginning to lose control and you are very fond of what follows.

“Why are these two freaks so obsessed with each other?! I don’t get it!” the soldier that slapped your hand gets mad.

“Do not engage, don’t make me repeat it one more time!!!” the captain snarls, tired with tonight’s assignment. He was supposed to be in bed already, if not for this stupid late night secret mission.

“Sorry, sir,” the apology is fast to follow.

You tap your red painted nails on the metal bar that separates your seat from J’s, amused.

“This was fun, huh? I’m not bored anymore,” you snicker and the Joker is fast to laugh in such a strange way it makes them all cringe.

A sudden strong impact and the van being turned around at 360 degrees makes you grab his hand and mutter:

“A few minutes late; could be worse, right?”

*** Both of you were in the mood for some action and had to do something about it: you decided to burgle a fancy jewelry store and let yourselves be captured. Of course that once the cops were there they called the Special Unit Force to escort you in great secrecy to Gotham Police headquarters.

Frost and your henchmen were instructed to follow closely and stop them from fulfilling their objective. All was planned in only one day: when the adrenaline rushes through your veins, no need for more - just act on instinct and impulsiveness. Your goons faked a blockade and the unmarked, bullet proof van took a turn towards the less busy roads under the Bridge of Angels. No convoy of police cars, no sirens, no fuss: the point was to haul you without getting any unwanted attention.

Which you guessed will happen.

And it did. ***

“What do you want to do with them, Doll?” J aims his head towards the kneeled soldiers surrounded by about 25 armed henchmen.

“I don’t know, they were pretty entertaining, don’t you think?” you rest your head on The Joker’s shoulder as he’s holding on to your waist.

“Should we kill them?” he inquires, undecided. He’s starting to trace your neck tattoo with his fingers, purring with such intensity it sends shivers down your spine. How you love the sensation!

“Whatever you want, baby,” you bite your red lips, fluttering your eyelashes. “But I don’t want be here anymore since we already had our fun. Actually…I take it back…We can have even more fun since we’re still awake,” you change your mind instantly because you’re both so turned on by tonight’s events. “Just state your will and then let’s go, the boys can take care of the rest. I really want to get you back to the penthouse. Pleeassee…” you moan the last sentence in his ear and he closes his eyes, aroused with anticipation.

“You’re such a bad girl, Pumpkin,” he growls, brushing his thumb on your “King” tattoo for a few moments, fighting with himself. “Go in the car, I’ll be back shortly,” he urges you, spanking your butt as you turn around and walk away towards one of the SUV’s awaiting on the side of the road.


Early morning and you didn’t snooze for one second. You surely exhausted J and now he’s in a deep sleep. You carefully move your head from his chest, cautious not to wake him up. You snatch a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from the closet, not making any noises, and after finding your car keys you sneak out of the penthouse, avoiding being seen at all costs.

After about 20 minutes of driving, you get to the meeting point at the abandoned factory on Helssel Street. Your contact is already there. You approach, suspicions.

“Who are you?” you grumble, surveilling your surroundings, just in case.

“My name is agent Collins. Nice to meet you agent Y/N,” the guy tries to speak and you cut him off.

“Spare me! Are you new?” you squint your eyes, already uneasy and displeased.

“Yes, just started with the bureau 6 months ago,” he informs, holding his ground.

“Are you kidding me??!! They are sending someone new? What level are you, did you even get your clearance level A yet?!” you raise your voice, annoyed. My God, what the hell are they doing sending this newbie to talk to you?!

“Not yet, soon, this is one of my tasks in order to obtain it.”

“I only deal with FBI agents that are at least level C, this is unacceptable!” you strut towards him and he doesn’t seem happy at your rant.

“With all due respect, agent Y/N, you might be level E, but it doesn’t mean that…” Collins protests, aware his skills need improvement but he’s not incompetent, otherwise he wouldn’t have made it this far.

“With all due respect, agent Collins,” you interrupt with a gesture of your hand,” don’t speak about things you know nothing about. I am involved in a very dangerous and strenuous undercover mission as I am sure you are aware. I can’t risk having my cover blown off, not after 3 years. It was very hard work to get into his world and make him trust me. I can’t risk any mistakes, that’s why I am appalled they send a new agent for our little briefing.”

“I am good at what I do, I’m not a kid. Please don’t address me as such,” he has the nerve to reply.

You chuckle, wanting to punch his lights out:

“Do you know what level E is?”

Collins nods a yes, irked you treat him like an idiot when in fact he’s very capable of handling all this. You just have your opinions so you continue:

“Level E agents are trained to do everything it takes for their missions. EVERYTHING! And The Joker is one…” and you almost scream, ”…tough insane psychopath!!! And I have to fuck him, kill for him, do EVERYTHING he asks of me since I am his ‘girlfriend’. Oh, I’m sorry, am I offending your little virgin ears??!!!” you suck on your teeth when he flaunts that grimace all over his mug. “I do EVERYTHING to keep myself in his world, this way I can give the Bureau all the info they need about the corrupt officials he deals with, future plans he might have, names, locations and dates. The Joker will go down last, after we get all we need.”

He is clearly offended and you are losing your patience. You take a deep breath and finish the meeting:

“Tell them all is good, I will e-mail them more encrypted data soon,” and you start walking away.

“I will actually be the one decrypting it!” he notifies you and you just raise your arm, shaking it as goodbye.

“Tell someone that cares, honey.”

You walk a couple of blocks to get to the alley where you parked your car. You are furious they send an agent in training and keep on mumbling to yourself. You had more things to say but because you’re stubborn, you refused to. I guess you’ll just have to send all the stuff in your e-mail.

You are almost at your vehicle when you see a shadow emerging from behind the building and you realize is The Joker.

“Baby Doll,” he walks fast your way and you nervously gulp, halting in your tracks.

“J, what are you doing here? I was just…”

You don’t get to finish your phrase because he hugs you tight, crushing you in his arms.

“I am being a gentleman and making sure my girl gets safely to her car,” he whispers and you lose your breath when you feel the sharp blade piercing through your ribs, deeper and deeper. You push him away, wincing in pain, hardly being able to still stand, shocked.

Why are you so dizzy and why can’t you move? You attempt to say something but barely manage to open your mouth. You start coughing and lean your back against the car, sliding down to the ground, everything fading from your already cloudy mind.

“Something to remind you of me, Kitten,” J stops in front of you, kicking your leg.  “The blade has been dipped in a paralyzing substance, this way you won’t struggle. As a thanks for being an awesome girlfriend,” and he reaches his hand to close your eyes. You wish you could fight, but the numbness took over your body with an alarming velocity. And now that your eyes are closed, maybe they won’t open again.


“Welcome back, Y/N,” you hear Commissar Gordon’s voice and you blink a few times, trying to focus on his face.

“Hello, s-sir…” you manage utter, coming back to reality. You are in a hospital bed, hooked to IV’s. “Where…where am I?” you lift your head from the pillow and instantly drop it back, weak and feeling drained.

“FBI headquarters, ICU unit, I guess you’re not familiar since you’ve never had to use it,” he gets up from his chair and takes a sit on your bed.

“How long was I out?” you lick your lips, thirsty and still a bit out of it.

“Two days. You were lucky Agent Collins followed you and found you in time,” he sighs, grateful you are still breathing.

“That bad, huh?” you moan in pain when you try to turn on your side. You lift the sheet up and see you are patched up where The Joker stabbed you.

“Well, it wasn’t good either. I’m glad you’re still with us,” Gordon admits and you know he’s sincere.

“Thank you, sir,” you wince in pain. “My cover got blown up, do we know what happened?” you request to find out.

“No, not yet, I think we might have a moll, we are thoroughly investigating the problem.”

“3 years…3 fucking years, and all is lost,” your eyes get teary from frustration and he touches your hand, sympathetic.

“I’m sorry, you were unbelievably tenacious and did a lot of good work. I know you’ve been through hell…”

“I’m fine,” you lie, not happy at your present situation.

“They will want to talk to you as soon as possible, they need all the information they can obtain. You don’t get to rest even if you deserve it. They will expect a full report and you’ll have to go through all the required steps, there are rules to be followed.”

“I know, sir,” you finally manage to lift yourself on your elbow.

“They are aware certain…feelings and …emotions are involved after being with him for so long, they want you in counselling and therapy too.”

“I understand the procedure, sir, it’s OK,” you agree, obedient. All this shit that follows comes with the job. “I don’t know how he followed me, I added the sleeping pills in his water and watched him drink it,” you fret, puzzled on how it went downhill so fast. “I’m a level E agent, I know what I’m doing.”

The commissar gets up, taking his leave. He knows better than to let you continue to torment yourself at this point. It’s no use.

“I’ll let you rest, then, we’ll keep in touch.”

You point your finger towards your neck tattoo, no words are necessary.

“You’ll have those removed as soon as there’s time.”

“Sir!” you yell after him when he opens the door. “Can I please have somebody help dying my hair back to black today? I can’t stand this red anymore!”

“Of course,” he exhales, contemplating about a million things he needs to do after this total fiasco of your undercover operation ending so abruptly.


A few weeks go by and you are caught in the endless twist of briefings, meetings, reports and assessment sessions to assert your state of mind, while they are looking for The Joker with no success. You didn’t even have time to remove all your tattoos because it’s a long process and right now you don’t have precious hours to spare. You just cover your skin with make-up, burying your past under and the two accursed names that will forever be ingrained in your memory: The Joker and his Red Queen.  


**Three months after the incident the SWAT team was able to capture your former boyfriend at your suggestion that he might be hanging around certain places. After all, you knew so many of his secrets and were able to predict his moves because you got to experience firsthand on how he works. You are not a level E agent for nothing! You didn’t waste so many years on this task, so much of your life and expertise just to sit around and not counteract. When you got the call in the middle of the night, you jumped out of bed so fast you almost dropped your cell, shaking at the unexpected news. He will be transported in great secrecy to Arkham Asylum where he surely belongs.

You are appointed as one of the 4 agents to accompany him to his destination and you get ready in such a hurry it scares you. Can’t wait to face the jerk and strangle him yourself if you get the chance, that is. **

You are sitting right across from a handcuffed Joker, panting and trying to control your urge to act. He just looks down at his shoes, avoiding eye contact for once. The other three agents are sitting to your left in perfect silence and alert.

J decides to move his blue gaze from the floor to your face, a total deranged smirk flourishing on his lips.

“Hi there Princess,” and he snorts, rolling his eyes.

“No talking!” one of your companions warns.

“What is it with you guys and no talking, huh?” he moves his jaw sideways, his eyes burning with madness.

The van stops at a red light and then continues its itinerary.

He winks at you, delighted in his lunacy.

“I’m glad to see you’re alive and well, Doll,” he yammers, disregarding the rest of them. “Daddy missed you!” he purrs and you clench your teeth, really straining to keep it together.

“Cut it out or you’re gonna get it!” the threat comes and he laughs, excited.

“Ahhhh, promise?… Don’t interrupt while I’m talking to my woman!!” he abruptly changes his voice to such a low tone it’s uncomfortable to hear.

You indifferently begin to wipe the foundation covering your tattoos on neck and cheeks with the sleeve of your suit, still quiet.

“Shut it down, Clown, I mean it!!!” the guy closest to you loses his patience, aggravated.

You instantly decide to verbalize your feelings:

“If you talk to the King of Gotham in such a disrespectful manner one more time, you’re not going to live through the night,” you tilt your head towards the man, chuckling and they all instinctively reach for their guns. “Thank God I was in charge of loading them, right?” you kiss the air, satisfied they fell for it. “Nahhh, I wouldn’t do that,” you pucker your lips when they still try to do something about it, getting ready to fight. “Don’t do anything stupid, you know what I’m capable of. Might I remind you I’m a level E agent?”


You kick the limp bodies at your feet, uncuffing J in the process.

“You’re mad at me?” he checks, inhaling your perfume.

“I thought we agreed you’re not going to stab me, yes?!” you snap at him, and he kisses your wrist, euphoric to touch you again. “You really took me by surprise!”
“I changed my mind, it was the best plan in order to achieve what we wanted, Pumpkin. And I used the paralyzing substance so you won’t feel pain. Am I nice to my girl or what?!” he praises himself, high from all the excitement of seeing you in action again; it’s been a while. 

“I have a scar, you know I hate scars!” you complain, pushing him away when he tries to hug you but then yank him back in your embrace, infatuated by his presence.

“But it was fun, wasn’t it? We were sooo bored, at least it was entertaining for a while. And you got me all the info I wanted right from the source,” he impatiently kisses you and it makes you weak in the knees. “How come my Red Queen has black hair, hm?” he tugs on your long locks, his hot lips kissing your shoulder up your neck. “Unacceptable!” he growls and you smile, enjoying having him so close again.

“It will be back to red again tomorrow,” you agree and you sense the van stopping. “I think we’re here,” you happily announce, relieved you’re back where you belong and don’t have to pretend anymore.


Your treachery was a strong blow to the bureau; they didn’t expect that to happen in a million years. Commissar Gordon was heartbroken at the news, he completely trusted you and had high hopes. He even saw you in a high rank within the organization as a future perspective. He would have vouch for you and supported you all the way.

But things turned ugly and it pains him to add your name to the FBI most wanted list. He took it upon himself to update your online file:

Agent Name: Y/N

Code Name: The Red Queen

Clearance Level: E

Status: Inactive

Special instructions: Extremely dangerous, approach with caution

His fingers are hesitant on the keyboard as he types in the final note:

Grade A Warning: Rogue



Sonny Carisi / Fallen

Prompt: Sonny Carisi/Reader story about him falling for a single parent?

For the anon who requested this! I loved writing this story. Sonny is precious, especially with kids. I hope you all enjoy! 

Sorry not sorry, reusing this gif because its literally the most adorable thing ever. 

Originally posted by allthingssvu

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