you are looking so dead and mangled


Safe (Jon x Reader)

“Imagine being Ramsay’s prisoner in Winterfell and waiting to be rescued by Jon.”

Requested by @iknowyouwuvme: “Jon x Reader where he’s really protective of the reader and he finds out that she was raped by Ramsay and Jon kills him.”

Warnings: Spoliers from season 6 of Game of Thrones, implied rape, violence, murder, Ramsay being Ramsay.

You’d been the prisoner of the Bolton Bastard for what felt like forever. He was a cruel monster that never failed to surprise you with new torture methods, mental and physical. He’d raped you, beat you, and over the past month, even flayed you. Your only solace was when you allowed your thoughts to drift back to Jon. The only man you’d ever loved, the man you were taken from and brought here.

You stood in the room you’d been locked in, your eyes focused on the battle taking place outside Winterfell. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you watched. Dread filled you, Ramsay had promised to bring Jon back, alive, to Winterfell just so he could force you to watch him kill him in front of you or kill you in front of Jon. It would depend on his mood. You stepped away from the window when you watched the wildings and other men who fought with Jon being overwhelmed in the fields.

You knew that Ramsay didn’t fight fair, he would lead Jon into a trap. Your eyes went wide as you thought about the possibility of never having Jon hold you in his arms again. How did things become like this?

Keep reading

I Fuckin' Mean It.  (Carl Fluff)

Imagine: Babysitting Liam a year after Carl broke your heart the year before.. It’s hard enough to avoid him, as your neighbor. It’s only for a few hours right?

Note: I’m new to this!

Y/N was nestled on her porch swing, Her knees with drawn inwards as she swayed. It was uncharacteristically cool for the middle of summer. She was hellbent on enjoying every bit of it. She was halfway through The Great Gatsby, with no real plans for today.

“Fuck!” Fiona growled from across the street. She hastily snapped her phone shut before running a tense hand through her tangle of curls.

Y/N was no stranger to the notorious Gallagher clan. She had a fling with Carl shortly after she arrived to the neighborhood. It was short lived, as most young relationships tended to go.

Underneath it all, Carl was sweet. He’s the type of person that required a second look. They’d sneak out and sit in the van. His face would be inches from hers as they talked.He’d lazily throw an arm around her thick waist to yank her closer. She’d squeal at his sudden display of strength. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he’d growl in her ear. He liked all the things she tended to hate about herself. Carl made her feel like she could glow from the inside out.

But Carl was equal amounts of light and dark. When he was thrown in Juvie, she assumed they’d pass the year with notes and visits. Her young heart was overflowing with nothing but hope. Reality hit hard with his one and only letter to her. A wrinkled scrap of paper hastily shoved in an envelope.

“Don’t write. Don’t visit.”

Needless to say, Y/N was crushed. Carl wasn’t the boy that brought a hot blush to her cheeks anymore. He was another South Side boy consumed with greed and the need to prove himself.

It wasn’t easy to avoid him, when he got out early. She remained on good terms with his family. Whenever he came into proximity, she was out of there, like a shot. Especially with Dom right on her hip. Still, as she turned to go his eyes followed her anyways. It made her skin crawl. The last think Y/N wanted, was pity from Carl Gallagher.

Fiona’s voice roke her out of her daze. “Hey! Y/N!” She said jobbing over. “You busy?” She asked, nearly breathless.

“Naw,” Y/N said snapping her book shut.

“Uh, Ian really flaked out on me. He was SUPPOSED to watch Liam. He’s not answering his phone. I really gotta get to work. My boss is gonna have my ass if I’m late. You mind watching him? I’ll give ya ten bucks. Someone should be back soon. 2-3 hours. Max!” Fiona’s voice was filled with desperation.

Y/N chewed on her lip and nodded. She wanted to say no. She really did. Despite lingering embarrassment, she knew missing work was rarely an option when you’re poor.

Fiona groaned with relief and grabbed Y/N’s hand, tugging her forward. She rattled off the do’s and don’ts of babysitting Liam as the made their way across the street. Rules, she was vaguely familiar with. THe door slammed behind them as YN’s eyes fell on Liam. “Y/N!” He yelled before clinging himself to her legs. “Hi Buddy,” she grinned before picking him up for a hug. “You’ve gotten so big!”

Fiona glanced up before fishing a ten out of her purse and pressing it into Y/N’s palm. “You be good okay?” She kissed Liam’s cheek with an audible smack. He giggled and held Y/N closer.

“Stuff for spaghetti is in the fridge if he get’s hungry,” said as she slung her purse over her shoulder. “Thank you!” The door’s slam rang out through the oddly quiet house.

“What now?” Y/N said before ticking Liam’s hip. “Trucks!” He cried matter o’ factually. She set him square on his feet and nodded. “Alright than! Trucks it is.” He scurried around the living-room floor, collecting Hotwheels in his tiny hands.It’s been awhile, but not much had changed. Still cluttered. Still homey.

“Here!” He said thrusting a fist full of cards towards her. She sank down to the floor and followed Liam’s lead. The thing about playing cards is, explosions are a must. Or at least that’s what he had spent the last hour teaching her.  “Oh no!” She gasped. She feigned screeching sounds before pushing her car towards his. “Boom,” he giggled before running his car into hers. She sighed dramatically. “Ya got me again!” He gave her car an extra bump for good measure.

“Ya hungry bud?”

“Mhmm,” he mumbled absentmindedly.

She padded into the kitchen, poking around. She pulled a big pot out of the cupboard and filled it with water. She quickly chopped up peppers and onions before throwing it all in with the sizzling hamburger. Between the hum of the kitchen and the occasional noise from the living-room, she grew content.

“Hmm,” she mumbled as she sprinkled salt and pepper into the frying mixture.

Liam crept into the kitchen with a small pail of Legos. He He quickly got to work snapping the toy bricks together. “Oooh! Cool!” she said glancing at his newest creation. She snapped the jar of sauce open and poured it into the . She almost didn’t hear the door slam. Almost.


“Nope. Wrong Gallagher,” a familiar voice called out.


“Please be Lip. Please be Lip,” she mouthed silently. Her muscles instantly tightened as tension racked her entire body. She gave the sauce another stir before putting it on simmer.

“Uh, hey? What’re you doing here?”

Y/N tapped the spoon on the edge of the pan, shaking off the dripping sauce. “Um,” she stammered as she turned around. “Fiona had to go to work. Ian didn’t show up. So she asked me to watch him.”

They stood in silence awkwardly observing each other. Gone were the cornrows and baggy clothes. He was taller than last year. Arms had the promise of muscle from under his work shirt. He stared at her from under furrowed brows. She’d changed from the year before. He had a flash to the pudgy girl he’d sneak into the van to see. How good it felt to hold her. Kiss her. Naturally, he glanced at her chest. Shifting downwards he could make out the curve of her hips from underneath that sundress. Her curves, her curves, her curves. Even the thought of them caused  a lump in his throat. A mixture of guilt and lust.

“So…The spaghetti’s nearly done,” she said with a slight tremble. That’s somethign carle secretly liked. Her vulnerability. Not many South Side kids got away with that.

He nodded and sat next to Liam, feigning interest in his Legos.  He kept stealing glances at Y/N. The tension was thick in the air, but Liam was oblivious as he happily played.

“Need any help?”

“Naw,” she shook her head before pouring the noodles into the strainer.

“Smells good. I didn’t know you could cook,” he mumbled into dead air.

She chuckled and shook the strainer. Droplets of steaming water feel freely. “Yeah. Well, I’m a lady of many talents,” Y/N joked shyly.

“Look,” Liam said as he raised a mangled clump of Legos up.

“Speaking of talent!” She gasped. “Liam, you’re so good at building things,” she said warmly as she enfolded him into a quick hug. Carle missed the warmth in Y/N’s voice. The way she’d coo and purr in his ear, making him feel like the only man on the earth. “Fuck,” he thought bitterly. “I’m so fucking stupid.” He tried so harm to be what Dominique needed. Somehow he always came up short.

“Here ya go, Bud,” she said brushing his toys aside. She placed a bowl of pasta in front of Liam.

“Well,” she said straightening up. “I’ll leave you to it. Food’s ready if you’re hungry.”

“You’re going?”


She wiped her hands on a spare dish rag before tossing it onto the counter. “Well, she did say until one of you showed up.”

“You don’t have to go, Y/N. C’mon. Stay. Eat with us. Right Liam? You want her to stay, don’t you?”

Liam nodded, a mouth full of noodles.

She shook her head sadly before making a break for the door. Unfortunately, Carl was fast.

“Y/N,” he said as he caught her in the wrist by the living room. “C’mon. Stay. Please,” he begged.

She twisted her wrist out of his grip and turned her head away.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ve missed you.”

She snorted indignantly. “You’ve looked okay to me,” she said sitting on the arm of the couch.

“I fucked up. I know that. You know that. Okay? I’ve just-I’ve missed you,” he growled as he hastily sank down into the arm chair.

“If fucked up means writing that pussy letter. I’d say yeah, you did.”

“I was facing a year. I-I thought it’d be easier,” he said quietly.

Her lip quivered slightly before she blinked away the tears threatening to fall. She focused her attention to fidgeting with the hem of her dress.

“I’m glad it was easy for you, Carl. I figured it was a typical Gallagher move. Ya know? Pushing away anyone that could care. Really care. But-But you couldn’t even give me the time of day when you got out,” she said coldy.

“It’s not like you’ve been around Y/N. “GOD!” He groaned. “Anytime I get near you, you’re fuckin’ outta there.”

“Well, you got your wish Carl. You can’t have it both ways,” She hissed. “Expect me to come up to you and Dom? ‘Excuse me, can I talk to your boyfriend for a sec?’“ She mocked spitefully.

He’d never seen her mad before. Truth be told, he couldn’t decide whether her wanted to yell at her, or kiss her. Underneath layers of sweetness, she was fiery.

“Want did you want me to say? ‘Hey, I know you don’t want me but I’m in lo-’” She stopped short, realizing what threatened to spill out of her mouth.

Carl shoved himself out of the chair and slowly walked towards her. He stopped and positioned himself right in front of her. “Finish the sentence,” he urged as he stared down at her. His fingers lightly brushed above her knees, sending electricity throughout her body. She shook her head and sighed. “This is stupid,” she laughed. “Because if you think for one minute that-”

She was cut off by the familiar sensation of Carl’s lips against her own. He lifted her legs, urging them around his waist as he leaned down to deepen the kiss. Y/N melted completely into the sensation, grabbing a fist full of his wavy locks. She gasped as he pressed a firm kiss to her neck. She instinctively tightened her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He gently nipped at her favorite spot. Right below her ear. The place only he knew about.

“Mmm, wait,” she purred. “Liam,” she said motioning to the kitchen.

“I thought about you the whole time, ya know.”

Her hands crept around his neck, as she looked up at him contently.

“In juvie, he continued. “Wondering if you were okay. I missed you. Now, I could give you a million bullshit excuses. But I just… I fucked up. And all I can say is, I’m sorry.”

She chewed on the corner of her lip as he considered his apology. He tilted her chin up as he went in for a kiss.

“Hey,” he whispered against her lips. “I mean it okay? Fuckin’ stupid to let you go.” He placed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. He traveled to her neck as he planted smaller ones along the way. Y/N’s breath hitched she felt his hot breath in her ear. “I ain’t even making that mistake again. I love you.”

Moon of Fire Part i (Sastiel Sequel)

Sastiel is a fic inspired from Rowaelin’s child and Feysand’s child being mates. Thank you to @dorianthekinkymf for reading this first part early, and giving me her amazing support, and for @dr-woodsprite for the title inspiration! And also to the girls who have done beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful Sastiel edits, @cassianandfenrysaremyboyos @readinglikewildfire @thebookdiviner @poseiodn @dorianthekinkymf I love you guys so much a thousand thank yous!

If you haven’t read A Court of Fire and Dreams:
Check out Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV and Part V.

Moon of Fire:
Part i, Part ii, Part iii, Part iv, Part v


Darkness covered Seraphine.
She was delirious, sprawled on a wooden floor, a wild raging pain deep in her head. Though her hands—bloody, shackled.
Despite this, a bigger problem was at hand.
Below her, a circle similar to the one drawn by Amren and Feyre at the House of Wind was slightly visible in the dark.
I came alive when I met you she had said to him, before she was to go back home to her family. To Terrasen.
Now, bars surrounded her from all sides. Wooden walls caved her in. She was trapped, her powers, her fire non-existent.
Not again, not again, not again. Seraphine forced her mind to calm, but she didn’t feel in control of herself anymore.
A corner of the cloth covering the wagon was pulled back. She stared at a wild eyed man, his eyes the colour of blood, wearing strange clothing she had never seen before.
“Got somewhere else to be, princess?”
He laughed as she said nothing.
“Didn’t think so.”
The man tried to grab her through the bars, laughing maniacally, and she felt now, that the tunic once owned by Kastiel was too short to be worn here.
“Don’t try anything funny,” he spat at her.
Seraphine had been so sure that her family needed her here, that they were in danger. Now she didn’t know what to think.
She swallowed her fear, listening intently at the sounds outside. The rustling of never ending trees. The breeze of fresh grass. Horses, being tended to. Though her powers were gone, her fae hearing weren’t. They must have been at an outpost, her capturers taking a break and resting the horses.
Near silent footsteps approached the horses at the front of the carriage, murmuring gentle words to the animals.
Seraphine was drawn to their tender voice. She crawled towards the edge of the wagon, tearing out a small piece of cloth from the bottom of her dress.
She takes a deep breath and pushes her hands through the bars and the cloth, towards the horse tender.
“For anyone in Terassen,” she whispers to him, dropping the piece. Seraphine didn’t know if he caught it, or if it simply landed on the ground.
The horse tender was about to make a sound, about to speak to her, before he was yanked heavily back. He yells in fright, a commotion breaking off as Seraphine hears the sound of skin pounding on skin.
The doors to her wagon opened, blinding her with bright daylight.
“What did you give him,” the red eyed guard yells.
Seraphine crawled to the back of the wagon, making herself into a ball. She was weak, she had no powers, she was not strong enough to escape into the heart of what could only be Oakwald Forest.
“I said,” the man yells, grabbing Seraphine by the shoulders and shaking her. “What did you give him?”
Seraphine said nothing.
Red eyes were the last thing she saw before the pummel of a sword knocked her out.


The journey through Oakwald forest left Seraphine’s mind in tatters. Her cheek lay on the cool wood, trying to clear her mind. She couldn’t tell how many days had passed, how many hours she had spent in the darkness of her wagon. The men forced her a drink, which suppressed her strength and powers. If they were travelling to Oakwald Forest, then there was a high chance that they were headed to Terrasen—her home. She snickered at the thought of these men bargaining her for whatever it is they desired from her court. Did they think they would make it out alive? The thought made Seraphine warm with joy. Going home didn’t seem so bad now.
Her heavy lids threatened to close again, just before she sees in the corner of her wagon, a flower, the moon illuminating it through the covers. She crawled towards it, her sodden tunic dragging through the markings on the wooden planks. She picks up the delicate blue, almost silver thing, pressing it to her face, inhaling the familiar scent—moonflower.
She swore she could hear giggling in the far distance.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

How would the paladins react to their S/o taking a lethal hit for them? Like they jump in front of a laser that was going to hit them.

WARNING: this is pretty gruesome and kind of a bit too realistic. but trigger warning for death, blood, and sickness


•the fact that you were even stood alongside him during battle was terrifying to Shiro
•he only wished the best for you, and would never want you to be hurt. ever. like literally ever.
•upon seeing you battling a soldier feet away, it appeared that you were handling it very very well
•"that’s my y/n" sjdjjsjskskskks
•sadly, because he underestimated that situation, ensue the fright
•he didn’t notice it until he heard Pidge scream, and Hunk yell “no!”
•he kicked the soldier he was fighting directly in the chest, and sent them flying.
•he turned.
•you know how some people say, when certain things happen, everything goes in slow motion?
•he turned, and there you were, still managing to remain on your feet despite the gaping hole directly through your stomach.
•his heart skipped a beat, and he lost another part of himself
•out of all the things this war could’ve taken from him, it had to be you, didn’t it?
•he couldn’t cry. he wanted to, so badly, but it appeared that his tears would rather stay locked up.
•he ended up catching you before you fell to the ground and as much as the blood made him jumpy, it didn’t matter in the moment
•the amount of blood was horrific, when he first had you in his arms your back was against his legs
•but when he put you to the ground, buckets of blood covered his armor to the point that he couldn’t even see the black parts anymore
{next one is kind of yuck and probably too detailed but this is what happens when you get a laser shot through you!!!!!}
•not only was it bloody, but everything about this was something even Shiro had never seen
•when the laser shot through you, the guts were taken with it. and when you fell to the ground, chunks left over were slipping off of Shiro’s knees
•he was absolutely terrified and this was
something no healing pod could ever fix
•still wasn’t crying though, despite the fact he was begging for you to open your eyes even though the hole in your chest was big enough to feet his feet in
•cried later on after they buried you on a planet the two of you visited a long time ago {that you absolutely adored because of scenery}
•the others have been traumatized ever since, and Pidge created an auto barrier that detects deadly forces five feet away {laser/bullets; this is only when it could be a fatal wound such as yours}
•Keith vowed to find who did that to you but has come up with nothing since


•the equivalent to punching a puppy
•sort of a stun laser type gun was what killed you
•you leaped in front at the perfect time, call that good timing
•basically Pidge heard your agonized and strained groaning and when they turned, you were thrashing on the ground
•purple flashed around your whole body and when Pidge started going toward you…
•Lance had no choice but to tackle Pidge, to refrain Pidge from touching you
•Hunk ends up coming though, and having been your best friend for such a long time he grabbed both of your arms and was therefore shocked as well
•that was a good thing though, it didn’t effect him as much as it did you but it did even out the pain
•you ended up going unconscious, while Hunk did as well.
•Pidge was screaming crying while Lance had his arms wrapped around them, pulling them as far from you as possible
•once you went unconscious, and the shocks disappeared, he waited a few and then let Pidge go
•Pidge ran to your side and bawled, lifting you into their grasp as they tried so terribly hard to drag you to the castle {arriving soon}
•they put you in a pod, as well as Hunk, Hunk awoke only a day later, but you never did
•they kept you in there, but you later died due to complications, those complications being cardiac arrest and a heart attack
•Pidge couldn’t find a way to open the pod themself, and was slamming their fists against the glass and crying their eyes out
•Pidge was traumatized for so long because they were right there when it happened, they had to watch you thrash about while being held back
•after burying you, Pidge would visit as much as possible and cry over your grave, wishing to have one more chance so the two of you could go home together


•thanks, my chest burns
•this was a lot worse than the others in my opinion
•but to make a long story short, the two of you were in a ship releasing prisoners
•you were caught by a galra, who was legitimately twice your size
•and by caught, I mean, they grabbed you with their huge hand and lifted you into the air
•at that point the prisoners didn’t matter to the soldier, his focus was on you
•Lance was told by Shiro what was happening, and he ran for his life.
•ran so fast that he tripped many times, and once he got there his heart dropped. Seeing something was a lot worse than hearing its description.
{this is descriptive and violent as well so warning} he expected to see you get crushed, but instead, the Galran squeezed your body and spiked you into the far end of the hallway, you bounced like a bouncy ball and finally rolled into a stop.
•Lancd shouted his battle cry and shot the Galran directly in the center of his face, knocking him down instantly
•Shiro was shouting, already sprinting down to you, you were thrown the length of over half a football field
•Lance came running as well, faster than he did when he was coming to your safety, he picked up your strangely set body before gently placing you back down. hands clutched against his mouth and face because he just couldn’t look at your mangled body anymore.
•he cried for so long. He cried when he heard what was happening. when you went flying, when he shot the soldier, when he was running to you.
•when he went home.
•Shiro told him that if it wasn’t for you, Lance would be dead. if it wasn’t for you, that soldier would’ve been on his way to do the same thing to Lance.
•you stopped him though, the Galran had said something cruel before his threat to kill Lance and you acted
•"I’m gonna go stomp that worthless bug to smithereens. he isn’t needed anyway.“
•you told him, that you were the worthless one, and killing Lance would only get him (the soldier) killed. Lancewas a paladin, a reliable form of information, Haggar would want him.
•Lance cried over you every night and ‘talks to you’ he wears your necklace at all times in whatever way he can


•you had actually died during the night, when everyone was sleeping.
•earlier during the day, the castles system shut down temporarily. Thus giving the chance to anyone to enter, and someone did, they stayed hidden in one of many rooms inside and waited
•on earth, it would’ve been 2:38AM when you passed
•at 1:56AM you awoke from your terrible sleep and began roaming the halls
•at 2AM you heard mumbling and slight clicks of armor patting the ground and seemingly on its way toward Hunk’s room. The first in the corridor.
•and at 2:16AM, you fought for 10 minutes. before getting a blade to your side.
•the soldier took the blade out, and in a last fit of effort you ran to the nearest escape pod. and dodged the assassins leap. the dodge was an accident though, you basically were on the verge of passing out.
•you fell beside the wall, and slammed the button. Launching the pod into space as you collapsed, trying your hardest to keep your eyes open, only for your heart to stop, eyes wide.
•Keith found you, dry eyed and mid yawn and screamed for the others, his heart was broken and it broke even more when he saw the look on Hunk’s face
•Hunk was the saddest anyone had ever seen him, including Lance who has known him since kindergarten.
•Hunk reached the corner and turned, seeing Keith beside you as you lay against the wall, a pool of blood surrounding you
•he fell to his knees, the blood spreading and splashing onto Keith’s shirt. hunk grabbed your shoulders and held you to his chest, crying silently and letting out strangled sobs.
•to the others who turned the corner all they saw was your face, eyes staring emotionlessly into nothingness and your mouth wide.
•Allura was definitely the second most upset about it, you were the only one that actually took the time to really get to know her, and even became best friends.
•they held a funeral for you and when everyone was leaving, Coran went to the alien earth that was marred and began speaking highly of you. the others joined as well, but Hunk insisted on doing it alone. he proposed to you while sobbing and then promised to win the war.
•I love Hunk I feel so bad for doing this to him, but he’ll never forget you and he’ll forever have nightmares

I’ve done something similar for this in a scenario!! so I’ll just make it so that you die in another way.

•and you thought this kid couldn’t get anymore locked within himself
•instead of saving him, you kind of just fell ill
•the thing is, you were sick for a long time but no one could tell, even you
•you sort of just, collapsed one day before entering battle and they all assumed you didn’t get enough rest lately
•until they waited a few hours, and after the paladins’ battle, Keith went to your room and slept beside you.
•when he awoke, you were still asleep.
•when he went to go to bed again, you were still. asleep.
•they put you in a pod and Coran asked to be left alone with Allura and Shiro while they discussed.
•Keith took this as something bad but listened anyway, and as he waited Shiro finally called him in
•"Coran wants to speak to you, alright? me and Allura are gonna tell the others what’s going on.”
•and he enters, and Coran is there, and he’s trying so terribly hard not to cry. he wants to look strong in front of Keith so that he’d be the one to comfort him. but it was terrible to lose a soul such as yours
•"I’m sorry, Keith, but…but I don’t think Y/n is gonna make it.“
•"oh…alright Coran.”
•Coran was kind of taken aback by Keith’s response, he expected him to cry. but with further analyzation of his face, he saw Keith was holding his breath
•"I’ll leave you two alone, son.“
•Keith nods in appreciation, and doesn’t exactly react the way people would think
•you’d think he’d punch at your pod in anger, why did such a cruel thing have to happen?
•instead, he sits down, legs crossed in front of you
•you were sick, but you looked so peaceful, and beautiful. as per usual.
•but inside of you, your body was infected, slowly being infected by things that Keith couldn’t do nothing to stop
•he kind of just waited for you, he wanted to be right there when you took your last breath. and he even begged Pidge to create something so you could be out of the pod. life support, like on earth, basically
•and they did, but you died 10 hours after. that didn’t matter to him though, he could see you and touch you and speak to you. you weren’t frozen up in the pod, you were talking. barely
•he sat beside you and would always suck in his sobs. sniffling every so often as he held your head to his chest and massaged your scalp.
•when you died, the dangerous clacking of Pidge’s makeshift monitor sounded. and in a fit of denial, Keith rocked back and forth, holding your limp body in his arms while gently going. “Shhhh. You’re okay”
•although, you didn’t necessarily save him. you did keep him going, after death as well. so in a way, I guess you could say you saved him. In a way.
•tends to speak about you a lot and not realize he’s still going until Allura wipes his tears, or Hunk and Lance lead him to his room. or when Shiro sighs, when Pidge begins to cry as well. or…or when Coran calls him ‘son’ and pats his back
•once stranded on a ship with a prisoner that basically looked like a mix between you and him. {they were half galra, half…other human like species} and he wanted to cry so bad but instead he decided to get to know this prisoner (they were just a toddler so they didn’t really understand what he was saying.)
•told them that you were by far, the best thing to ever happen to him.
•later asks Coran and Allura if they can take the toddler in and they do. sort of becomes a father figure.

Dragged Down (Pennywise x Reader)

Hiya! This is my first ever Pennywisexreader fic! It takes place a couple years after the end of the movie, and the reader is a recent addition to the Loser’s Club after moving to Derry. The reader is of age as always lol and is kind of like an older mentor to the rest of the Loser’s Club teens. (Also, I understand that Penny hasn’t had his full 27 year rest in this fic so don’t come for me lmao) I hope this doesn’t suck! A part two will come out sometime if people end up liking this <3

Running away was the least of your problems. Anything to get away was better than continuing to take the horrible abuse of the town bullies. How anyone could be that cruel was beyond you. Despite Patrick Hockstetter having gone missing from the group earlier that month, the rest of the bullies could still pack a punch. It almost seemed like they had become tougher, if that was even possible.

You ran until your body couldn’t go any further, following the river as you went. The bullies would surely have given up chasing you by now, probably settling on waiting for one of the other losers to walk by the drugstore downtown so they could pants him. Looking around you, you tried to survey where you had run off too. Your heart dropped when you noticed the opening to the barrens right next to you. Fuck. You had heard awful stories about this place, especially from the other losers. You looked back to the direction you had come from. You couldn’t head back now, for all you knew, the bullies could just be trying to trick you into walking right back to them.

Suddenly, you heard yelling coming from the forest. Although you couldn’t make out who it was, it startled you. The possibility of the bullies running all the way out here was slim even for them, but even then you couldn’t be sure. Your fear got the best of you and you immediately sought for a hiding spot within the mouth of the sewer, praying that whoever was in the woods would be gone soon. The sounds became closer, forcing you to continue moving farther back into the drainpipe. The smell of the sewer engulfed you, causing you to gag slightly. Glancing down, you could barely make out the sight of your shoes being soaked by the horrendous grey water, as Eddie liked to refer to it as. He had been right about one thing: the sewers were absolutely nauseating.

The screams got louder and louder, shaking you to the core. From your spot in the drainpipe, you still had a full view of the opening. You knew that if you couldn’t see it anymore, that you had gone too far inward. All of a sudden, you could see the bullies being thrown in front of the sewer opening. They landed on the hard ground with a sickening thud. Within a split second, an incredibly tall, hulking creature could be seen looming over them, eyeing the bullies necks with a feverish gaze. It was dressed as a clown, complete with the red nose and crazy orange hair. Drool pooled uncontrollably out of its gaping maw, and onto the terrified boys down below. You could hear slight jingles as the clown stepped forward, thanks to little bells attached to its costume. The bullies were frozen in complete fear, unable to try to run away or even scream anymore. Your heartbeat was rising rapidly by the second as you watched the gruesome scene unfold. The creature lunged at the boys, its mouth plunging into Henry’s neck while its claws slashed the other two boys’ necks simultaneously. You wanted to scream, but you were so scared that you couldn’t even make a noise. Unable to look away, you placed your hands over your mouth in shock as the clown finished them off.

The mangled corpses of the bullies were now practically unrecognizable, and the clown gazed over his work, smirking to himself. It knelled down to begin its feast of the now dead bullies. ‘Damn, thats gonna be a lot of missing posters’ you thought, some of Richie’s blunt humor rubbing off on you. You had no idea what to do, since you were unable to go anywhere. Suddenly, the clown’s head snapped up, taking an enormous sniff in the air.  You could heard a sinister giggle emit low in its throat, and the clown slowly turned and looked in your direction in the sewer. Your eyes widened and you took a small step back, further into the dark.

“Who do we have here? Do you want to play too? Come on, join us. We’re having a wonderful time, I’m sure you wouldn’t wanna miss out.” the clown hissed out, accenting the end of his sentence with another giggle.

Shit. You’ve been caught. Fear took over your thought process, and before you knew it, you had begun running deeper into the sewer. Since you had been hiding in the dark for a while, your eyes had slightly adjusted and you were thankful you could at least navigate through the sewers without much light. You didn’t dare even attempt to look back as you continued on running. Rounding the corner, you were met face to face with metal bars that prevented you from going any further. Immediately, you turned around and pressed your back up into the bars, trying to move put as much distance between yourself and the clown as you possibly could. To your surprise, the clown was not directly behind you as you thought he had been. Suddenly, a single red balloon drifted through the air towards you, coming to a stop inches in front of your face. POP!!!

You let out a scream as the clown seemingly materialized in front of you. He slowly moved towards you, continuing to sniff the air as he did so. Immediately, the clown lunged at you, grabbing your arms and slamming them in place above your head. Your eyes widened and your breathing became rapid. You watched as the clown’s glowing eyes traveled up and down your body, stopping at your neck. You winced as he buried his face in your neck, inhaling your scent like it was the most amazing smell in the whole world. You could feel him shudder a bit as he pulled away, a smirk forming on his perfectly painted lips.

“So, what do you say, (Y/N), you wanna play?” the clown’s smirk grew as drool began to leak out of the corners of its mouth. You focused your gaze on the sewer wall, trying your hardest to keep your head turned away from him. It was all just a game to the clown. At this point, he was just playing with his food. He moved his head closer to your neck once more, trying to get a whiff of the fear radiating off of you.

“Hmm, what’s this? It’s different…” the clown continued its investigation of your neck. His grip on your wrists tightened as he proceeded with his sniffing, and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“C-can you just kill me and get this over with? The suspense is torture and I don’t think I can take much more of it…” You gained the courage to finally speak up. The clown immediately paused and moved his head back to look at you. He narrowed his golden eyes as another little smirk graced his features.

“You’re a brave little thing, aren’t you?” the clown chuckled, moving one hand down to grab ahold of your chin.

“Unfortunately, I’m afraid I can’t make you float now- I don’t think the other Losers would be too happy with me if I did.” No. He could smell them on you, it was too late. The shit-eating grin on his face said it all. You had remembered the day that Bill, Richie, and Eddie had pulled you aside and explained about what had happened to them a few years prior to you moving to Derry. Their story seemed so real, but how could something like that actually exist? You had brushed it off as being a myth, like they were just trying to scare you. Even though you hadn’t necessarily believed it to be true, you had always had a weird feeling arise whenever you had to walk past the old house on Neibolt Street. This was all hitting you like a ton of bricks now, and you were completely terrified.

“No, please! I know what happened between you and the losers, but please don’t hurt them!” You screamed and pleaded, trying to release yourself from the clown’s sickeningly tight grip.

“You know, I really miss those little brats. Especially Eds, how’s his arm doing by the way?” The clown snickered, loving your pained reaction to his words.

“You’re sick!” You hissed out, not being able to stomach the thought of poor little Eddie being attacked by this bastard. The clown showed you his teeth (which had grown considerably more pointed) as his grin widened, taking your insult as a compliment.

“You know what? I’m feeling a bit generous today. I think I’m going to keep you for a while. You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” the clown gripped your forearms, watching you intently. You couldn’t even speak at this point, your jaw could only drop open in shock.

“But don’t worry, you won’t be alone for long. I’m sure your little friends will soon come looking for you. I’d love to see them again.” The clown cackled as he watched you writhe.

“No- no you can’t! Please, I don’t care what you do with me, but please-don’t hurt them. They don’t deserve to die because of me.” You started crying, realization setting in that you would most likely never see the light of day again.

“Aww, how cute. Putting your life in my hands for the sake of those twits.” The clown moved his hands to either side of your head, applying a bit of pressure that made you wince.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a plaything of my own. I won’t promise anything for now, it’ll depend on how much fun you’ll be for me. Will you be good for Pennywise, little one?” Pennywise. That was his name.

“I guess I have no choice at this point.” Your head slung down in shame as you came to terms with what would probably happen to you.

He was most likely going to kill you, making you suffer as much as possible in the process. Afterwards, he was going to eat you. At least the other losers were going to be ok (as far as you knew). Before your thoughts could really get deep, Pennywise had hooked his arms around your waist and began to drag you deeper into the sewer. He was practically running, and you could feel bits of the mucky grey water splash onto your body every time Pennywise’s feet make contact with the ground. It seemed like the tunnels never ended, and the smell was getting worse and worse the deeper you went. Pennywise’s breathing was rough and the grip he had on your waist was strong. Eventually, you could make out a bit of light at the end of the tunnel. Definitely not sunlight by any means, but it was significantly brighter.

Before you knew it, you were being thrown forward. Landing with a thud on the hard grimy ground, your palms and knees scratched while catching your fall. You noticed that your hands were starting to bleed from the impact. The area surrounding you was much more open than the sewer tunnels. In the middle of the room, there was a huge tower of junk that was hard to miss. It seemed as if the laws of gravity did not apply to this junk pile, seeing as it continued all the way up the expanse of the room without anything falling. Your stomach flipped when you saw what was at the top of the tower. Children were floating around the top, some with missing limbs and others completely unrecognizable to you. There was one you could recognize immediately though: it was Patrick. It’s the missing kids. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. You were absolutely fucked. Your breathing became rapid, and your vision became blurry as you fell back against the hard floor. The last thing you saw before you passed out was Pennywise standing over you with glowing eyes.

To Be Continued…

Just Hold On

Request: Can you please do an imagine where the reader(female) is in the van in the S-6 finale and Daryl is in bad shape. You find him a blanket and hold him until dwight gets them out after Abe’s chosen Daryl passes out you help care for him at hilltop when Daryl realizes whats going on hes shocked to find out you caring for him.He thought you hated him. You found his scars and he opens up to you.You have always loved him but he’s always so mean. Please=super awkward Daryl Fluff comfort/care love

A/N: Super excited to be writing again tbh

     “Just hold on, just a little bit longer,” you whisper, emotion spilling into every word you said to Daryl. He was covered in his own blood and shallow breaths were the only response you got. You could tell he was close to blacking out. Your arms were wrapped around his much larger frame, keeping the blanket secure while his head rested on your chest. The hunter didn’t acknowledge you, most likely in a world of his own pain, just trying to hold on to the thin line of consciousness he had left. 

     You were gently running your fingers through his hair, attempting to bring yourself some serenity as the man you loved was bleeding out in your arms. Tears were no stranger to your face in this moment; you were desperately praying to whoever, whatever was out there that Daryl would survive. You couldn’t let him die, not now.  

     The love for him blossomed back at the CDC. You don’t know what did it, maybe it was his fierce determination to keep everyone safe, but you knew in that moment that you fell hard. It continued at the farm, growing more and more. Although you were undeniably attached to this man, you never got too close. You knew this love was one-sided, that he only felt your presence bothersome. Every time you approached him, he’d snap or give you stares that froze the courage in your body.

     But now, he was weak and letting you take care of him. You were whispering reassurances in his ear that you would keep him alive and that he didn’t have to worry when the truck lurched forward and stopped. A groan escaped Daryl’s lips from the sudden motion.

      Then the doors swung open to reveal Dwight. He yanked Daryl out of your arms and then pulled you as well. That’s when you saw it.

     Your family was lined up, all on their knees. 

     Dwight pushed Daryl to the left while you got tugged to the right by another arm. You were forced to fall to your knees next to Carl, who gave you a sympathetic but intense look. 

      You glance to the hunter, aching to be by his side and protect him from harm. He was looking at you already, fear evident in his eyes, making you feel terrified of what was to come.

     And then the trailer door opened.

     Sobs came from everywhere once Negan and his men left you all there, taking in the sight of Abraham’s mangled body. Rick looked defeated at this point, slowly taking in what happened. 

     You couldn’t look at the body, not without feeling a wave of sickness wash over you. You couldn’t look at your dead friend, not after what Negan did to him. 

      So instead you look at Daryl who was silently crying, unable to move. You were the first to stand, rushing over to Daryl who looked on the brink of something deadly. You sit and cradle his head on your lap while you both cry. But mere moments later, Daryl was closing his eyes, igniting panic in your body.

     “No Daryl,” you said firmly, “you have to stay awake.” you knew what could happen if he fell asleep, you knew you could lose the person you loved.

     Instead, he drifted off into a deep, blood-loss induced sleep.

     The journey to Hilltop was excruciating; everyone was haunted by the images of the barbed wired bat striking Abraham’s head again and again while none of you could do a single damn thing.

     Daryl’s arm was slung around your shoulders as you helped his half conscious state move forward. His groans were the only sounds that came from your group, all too traumatized to speak. You were struggling to keep him standing, but the thought of him dying fueled your determination to get to Hilltop.

     Once you saw the gates, you almost cried from relief.  

     You rushed, trying to half drag the hunter’s bloody form into Hilltop as they opened the gates to you and your broken down family.

     Daryl was in pain. He could feel every muscle cause a splinter of fire to travel to his wound. He was met with lights above his head and a bed under his body. But also, there was a pressure on his legs.

     His eyes traveled down to find you, clutching his hand and sleeping on his lap. A frown was on your lips, making you look distressed, even in sleep.

    “She hasn’t left, you know.” Daryl glanced to the doorway, finding Maggie standing there. He looked down at you, taking in the sight of your angelic face breathing in and out. After getting no response, Maggie spoke again. “She dragged you here and wouldn’t eat or drink or shower until she knew you were getting treated. I suggest you thank her when she wakes.” And with that, Maggie left Daryl alone with you.

     He hesitantly brought his other hand to your hair, combing it out of your face. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through your hair while you continued to sleep. Daryl thought you hated him. You avoided him at every cost, acting like he was the big bad wolf. He was shocked that you were caring for him.

     You did wake though, briefly forgetting everything that happened; you woke up warm and nothing seemed wrong. But then it all crashed into place. The truck. Daryl. Negan. The bat. Abraham. The struggle to get to Hilltop. Everything just started hitting you hard, one by one. 

     “Uh, you okay?” 

     Then you realized you dozed off on Daryl’s lap. Heat flooded your face as you brought your head up. “I’m so sorry Daryl. I really didn’t mean to.”

     “’S alright.” He muttered, looking anywhere but you. Awkward silence filled the air as you struggled to find something, anything to say. Daryl beat you to it though when he said, “Thank you. For what you did. Maggie told me.”

     You nodded, saying that it wasn’t a problem and that he would’ve done the same for everyone else. Guilt was eating you up, though. You helped change his shirt and you knew you saw something you weren’t supposed to. You had a feeling you knew what happened and your heart broke every time you thought of someone hurting your Daryl.

Not your Daryl, you corrected yourself.

     “Daryl,” you said slowly, “I saw your back and I swear it will stay between us. You don’t even have to tell me what happened.” You looked back up, expecting an angry glare. Instead, you found a soft expression fall over his features.

     “’S not your fault. It was my dad. Used to hit me ‘n Merle when he was drunk.” Daryl said quietly. You nodded, not sure of what to say. Again, Daryl filled the silence with a question. “Why did you do all this?”

     “You would’ve done it too.”

     “That’s not the reason.”

     You sighed, knowing that even when injured, the archer was hard-headed. “I’m in love with you. I have been for a while now.”

     You dared to peek at the hunter’s face. He was wearing a confused look, almost doubting. “I thought you hated me.”

     “No,” you insisted. “I thought you hated me, so I stayed away.”

     He softly smiled. “Couldn’ hate you if I tried.” You gave him a smile as well, as much as a smile you can give after everything that happened. “I think I might be in love with you too.”

     And that night, you slept next to Daryl, shielding him from the evils of the world you lived in, while he gathered you into his arms as best he could. That night you got the best sleep you had gotten in a while.

anonymous asked:

whew! finally caught the ASK BOX!!!!!!! alaude + hibari + xanxus with rebellios tomboy s.o please??


~I have my own ideas of being a tomboy so if this is not what you had in mind, Anon, I’m sorry. Special thanks to Admins Enma and Chrome for helping me out with this ask. XD~

admin adelheid


Alaude’s eyes narrowed as soon as he entered the house. It felt empty despite the servants meeting him at the door. He turned to one and asked immediately.

“Where is she?”

The servant bowed. “The mistress is out in the field, master. It seems one of the fences has broken and the cows have gotten loose.”

Alaude needed no more explanation. He ignored the disapproval he caught in his staff’s tone because he really didn’t care. He married you because you were like this. Despite knowing that you will cause him eternal aggravation.

Rushing out into the field via the back door of the mansion he immediately spotted you. His breath caught at the sight you made. Hair in a tight braid wearing a tight set of pants and a dress shirt he recognized as his. You were atop a rocking, bucking horse that you were using to physically force the hordes of cattle back into their pen with the help of four other male hands. He ignored the lump in his stomach that feared for your safety. How those beasts could have easily crushed you if you fell from your horse.

The crisis was fixed in no time and he leaned back against the mansion wall as he watched you order the men to fix the fence as soon as possible. You were about to take your horse back to the stables when you noticed him staring back at you. Your bright, open smile almost made Alaude return it. It has always fascinated him how unafraid you are with expressing your emotions.

His eyes wandered over every exposed curve your clothes were revealing and just like that his worry melted into a fiery desire and he shot glares at the nearby males who had long known better than to ogle the master’s wife when she dressed the way she did. Besides they respected her too much. She had never acted inappropriately with them.

“Don’t tell me you’re mad.” You began as you came closer to him. “They would have destroyed the other fences if we left them like that.”

“I know.”

You eyed him knowingly though. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“I know.” He frowned at you thoughtfully for a little bit before gathering you into his arms. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

You blink in confusion even as you relished in the warmth of his embrace. “I don’t think I understand what you mean. You’ll have to elaborate, my love.”

Alaude held you tighter. “You know what I mean. You were the one who shot that commander while he was meeting with that don and made it look like he was killed by the don’s Famiglia three days ago.”

“Oh?” you still feigned innocence. “Now why would I do that?”

“You’ve noticed how that Famiglia was gaining power through the military just as much as I had. You knew what was going to happen if they had the government at their back.” Alaude replied, squeezing you tighter against him and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You push back and held your chin up high in defiance daring him to scold you. “Are you telling me this to reprimand me, my love? I didn’t think I had to explain my motives for wanting our Family safe.”

“Of course not. I’m here to give you Giotto’s thanks, to tell you that he worries so please tell him before you do something reckless again next time,” Alaude snorted. As if he would have married you if he could have controlled you so easily. He pulled your hips close and ground his arousal against your belly, enjoying the way your lips parted and your eyes darkened in desire as he did so. “And to make love to my wife…”


He had just turned the corner when he saw you knock a man unconscious with a steel chair. His blood ran cold, however, when another one crept up on you from behind with a large knife getting ready to disembowel you.

He moved without even thinking about it.

In one swift strike he drove his tonfa right into the man’s temple breaking the man’s skull in.

Your face brightened when you saw him. “Kyouya!”

He swallowed hard and dragged you towards him in an embrace that was borderline suffocating.

It felt as though he had wandered the Land of the Dead looking for you among the scattered corpses in the hospital. You told him you were going to visit a friend in this hospital today so when he found out about the massacre being planned just for the sake of getting rid of another mobster from another Famiglia to stop him from testifying Hibari rushed over, half dreading the sight of your mangled body decorating the ceiling.

“Kyouya?” You held onto him tightly, worried at how hard he was shivering. “Are you alright?”

Instead of answering your question he held you at arm’s length and furiously looked you in the eye. “What were you thinking, woman?! Did you know what kind of people these were just now?! You should have hidden yourself!”

You scowled right back at him, trying to ignore the fact that his grip was going to leave bruises in the morning. “I can take care of myself, Kyouya. Besides I was protecting my friends. I couldn’t just leave them behind like that!”

“Why didn’t you call me?!”

“My phone broke when I drove it into someone’s skull!”

Dammit! he brought you close to hug you tight again and screamed at you mentally through gritted teeth. Goddammit it stop this! Stop worrying me to death! I love you! Do you have any idea what would happen to me if I lost you?! Can’t you think about me just once for one damned second?!

But of course he didn’t say that. Not to you. He had known how you were when he fell in love with you. Your fire and your strong heart and the fact that you didn’t cling to him every goddamn time were one of the reasons he held you precious to him. He just wished he could bring himself to be just as strong as you and tell you just how much you meant to him. But he had no words. All he could do was hope you understood him.

“Fine. I’m sorry. I’ll be more cautious next time.” You whispered in his ear as you hugged him back.

Kyouya sighed in relief. It seemed as though you did understand, after all.


Everyone in the courtyard watched you take down a man twice your own size in the blink of an eye and look down at him as though he were a bug under your heel.

“Say that again, asshole,” you dared the man currently writhing in pain at your feet. “Tell me again how I have the Boss wrapped around my cunt?”

But the man couldn’t speak. After you drove your fist into his throat, everyone who saw doubted he’d be able to speak again.

“Another one?” Squalo sighed as you turned on your heel to head back into the mansion.

“Ushishishi~ This one actually had the balls to tell her to suck it.” Belphegor replied for you from the balcony above where he was watching. It was always fun to watch you lose your patience.

“Mou, these idiots~” Lussuria shook his head in exasperation as he retreated back to the mansion alongside you.

“Pay up,” Mammon told Levi who was shaking his head in annoyance. “I knew it was going to be the big guy.”

The usual protocol for having offended their Cloud usually came with a twenty four hour stay in the med wing. Without pain meds or any kind of treatment. If they were lucky that is.

You were in too bad of a mood to really care if anyone was staring or not. And now you were filthy too. You made your way back to your rooms, anxious for a shower. As you were taking your bra off you sensed more than heard a presence coming up behind you.

In one flowing motion you throw a dagger hidden in your waistband right at the trespasser. Only for him to catch it right before it took his eye out.

“That a way to greet me?” Xanxus asked, eyeing your topless form with more than a little interest.

You couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your lips, your eyes softening at the sight of him. “Hey.”

He smirked at you and carefully placed the weapon on your dresser as he approached you. “Heard about what happened in the courtyard.”

“Just a waste of time, don’t worry about it.” You told him, giving him a peck on the lips as your arms circled around his neck. “More importantly, we weren’t expecting you back till later tonight. Did the meeting go well?”

“Hn. As well as can be expected.” He replied staring at your face, his brow furrowed, his rough hands enjoying the satiny feel of the skin on your back. “Want me to shoot his face in?”

You snorted. “And how is that going to help me? It’ll just make things worse. Besides they were just new recruits who don’t know any better.”

“You’re going soft.”

“Am not. I just beat the idiot half into the afterlife, how is that soft? Besides, Squalo’s the one who gets to decide if he’s capable enough for the Family to hold onto or dispose of, not me.”

“You’re an officer, you get a say.”

“Not with these kinds of people I don’t. It’ll only give the recruits wrong ideas. Killing people is easy, killing ideas is a whole different shit fest altogether and I’d rather not deal with that.”

Xanxus scowled at that in displeasure because you were right. It was just that it was getting harder and harder to ignore how the new recruits keep on testing their dominance over you every single damn year. It’s beginning to get to him.

“What did this one say this time?” he couldn’t help but ask. There was always a different version every year. Mammon was probably keeping a list.

You chuckled. “That I’ve got you whipped because you can’t control me and keep me where I belong instead of ordering around my betters.”

“Ahhh… Sexist pig, huh?”

“Uh hm.” And then you gave him a mischievous grin, grabbed his arm and threw him over your shoulder making him land on the bed hard.

“The FUCK?!”

But then you straddled his legs and began pulling his pants down eagerly. Soothing the dark skinned Italian’s temper as you lovingly stroked his sex with both hands, already eyeing it hungrily. “Do you mind if I get dessert before dinner…?”

Xanxus threw back his head in a lustful laugh even as your head bent between his legs. If only those fuckers knew how much you liked going down on him despite your tough attitude outside they’d be jealous as all hell. It made him smirk in pride.

And then the room filled up with nothing but his groans, cursing for more.

Friend Please - Part 2

a/n - i cried while writing this. Part 2 to Cough Syrup 

word count - 1290

warning - death, mentions of suicide, depression

PART 1: Cough Syrup

Choosing not to take you to the hospital, they picked you up, and laid you on the bed, and waited for you to wake up.”


I feel for you, but when did you believe you were alone?


Your eyes fluttered open as you heard the murmuring of your friends. You carefully sat up, trying not to hurt yourself more than you already were. As you looked around, you noticed the rope sprawled on the floor, the red and puffy eyes of the boys, and the small white puppy curled into Jack’s side. Daniel was the first to speak up.

“Why would you do that?”

They nodded in agreement. You didn’t think that it would affect this much. After all, why would anyone care for you. Your throat was raspy, even after you coughed multiple times.

“I didn’t think you would care.”

“Why would you think-how, how could you think that?”

“We’ve always been here for you, and we always will, even if we’re mad.”

“We just want to know why you did it.”


You say that spiders crawled inside and made themselves a home
Where light once was


“You know when you’re in a well-lit room, so you think it’ll stay like that forever? Well, it won’t. Either the light bulb will go out, or someone will turn off the light. For me, the light bulb went out. It was like all my energy had gone out. The room was dark, and I couldn’t figure out how to light it again. I was just always in the dark.”

You took a deep breath, tears coming to your eyes. The boys didn’t look as though they understood, so you tried again to explain what you felt.

“Pretend butterflies and flowers lived in my body. Well, spiders eat butterflies. So before I knew it, there were spiders and cobwebs living inside me. And I didn’t know how to tell you, because you all have butterflies, and you always have.”


Petrified of who you are and who you have become
You will hide from everyone, denying you need someone
To exterminate your bones


“So, I stayed away from butterfly people, scared that my spiders would hurt them. I just didn’t want to hurt you guys, I love you all so much.”

By this point, you were sobbing, and once you were done speaking, you fell back onto the bed and pulled the covers over your head. You didn’t hear or feel anything until you heard one of the boys move and then little footprints stumbled across your bed. Something pawed at the blanket until it moved and you saw white fur. Pebbles, as you now knew, was trying to get under the blanket to cuddle you.

“You wouldn’t have hurt us, because we love you too.”

“But I’m a monster.”


Friend, please remove your hands from
Over your eyes for me


It was a week later, and the boys never left your side. Yes it was a nice gesture, but it was suffocating you. You felt pressured to be happy around them, so everything had to be perfect. And when something went wrong, you lost it.

You were making breakfast for the boys, when you remembered that you hadn’t fed pebbles. You got down the dog food from the top cabinet.

“Pebbles! Breakfast time!”

She didn’t respond, which was weird, because you saw her a second ago, just by the doggy door. You figured she hadn’t heard you, so you tried again. And again. Until you were worried, so you stopped making breakfast to go look for her. You put your shoes on and went to go outside, but no sooner than had you opened the door, you heard tires screech and a yelp that sounded oddly familiar. You dashed out of the house down towards the street. You saw a red car parked in the middle of the road, it didn’t look weird. But that was before you saw the blood stained fur under the tire.

“NO! NO, NO, NO!”

God no, she couldn’t be dead. She just couldn’t be. Out of breath from sprinting, you pushed the driver put of the way and told them to move their goddamn car. You crouched down to look for where the fur was coming from. Once you did, you puked. You never thought angels could get hurt, but here one was, mangled and in agony.

“No, pebbles, you’ll be okay, I swear you’ll be okay.”

You told the driver to call 911 so they pulled their phone out and dialed. Not caring about getting messy, you pulled Pebbles gently into your lap, and cradled her as if she was the most fragile thing in the world. That was how it started, but it wasn’t how you wanted it to end. By now the boys were filing out of the house and running towards you.

“Sing for her, please.”

And they did. And you rocked her in her last moments, crying because she had saved your life, but you couldn’t save hers. As you listened to them, you realized that they weren’t just singing for the lost life in your arms, but you as well.


I know you want to leave but


It wasn’t getting any better. You thought that with the help of your friends, that the pain would go away. But it didn’t. And you wanted to leave more than ever, but at the same time, you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt the boys. And they understood that you wanted to leave, but god, they couldn’t let you. You had been sitting in the corner of your room, not quite sobbing, not quite sober. You were trying to be quiet, but you were failing. Daniel was the first to appear before you, not saying anything, just sitting down next to you. You had to admit, he was good at comforting people, but right now it wasn’t enough. Zach was the second. He lied down so that you could play with his hair. You were like a mom to him, and both of you could use a home right now. Next came Jonah, who sat facing Daniel. Not being able to hug you, he chose to sing softly. You could barely hear it, but it helped. Then came Corbyn, who put his arms around you and laid his head on your shoulder.

It was like your own small family, but someone was missing.

“Where’s Jack?”

You spoke ever so gently, like a whisper in the wind, but they heard you. And so did Jack apparently, because he walked in carrying something. It looked like a picture frame, but you couldn’t see what the picture was. He sat across from Corbyn and started to speak.

“Sorry I’m late, but I thought that you-we could all use this.”

He turned the frame around, and it showed a collage of pictures. Pictures that were taken by everyone. There was a small one in the top right corner, of Pebbles and you on the swing. You were laughing because Pebbles was trying not to slip off. In the bottom left, there was a picture of Zach, Jack, and Pebbles playing with the hose. And so on went the photos, all of them had your precious dog in it somewhere. With tears in your eyes, you leaned over to hug Jack for the wonderful gift.

“Thank you, so, so much.”

Jonah still hadn’t stopped singing and as Jack had explained where he got the photos from, the other boys started to sing as well, still soft, but loud enough to shake your heart. The family felt full again.


Friend, please don’t take your life away from me


Actual Southern Gothic Part 2

-The morning after your granny dies you hear mourning doves outside your window. Their haunting coo follows you all day. You strain to hear other bird calls, but everything else is silent. At the edge of your hearing is the soft “woo-OO-oo-oo-oo” of another dove.

-The summer heat is here. The air conditioner is broken. You lie around half-naked. The windows are all open. The fans are buzzing away. You feel more liquid than human. You feel more sweat than substance. You lift a hand. You feel the flesh melting off your bones. 

-Your mother goes to church “just in case.” You ask her “in case of what?” She shakes her head. “Just in case.”

-Deep in the woods you find plastic cartons bleached by the sun, rusting car parts half buried in the soil, and an abandoned gardening shed that smells like a tomb. Everything inside is coated in dust and filth. The floor sags with water damage. The tin roof is so rusted it has holes in it. You see several mice skeletons, perfectly preserved. You feel fingers brush against the back of your neck, but there is no one there. You leave. When you try to find the shed the next day nothing is there. The woods continues on, uninterrupted. You vow to forget what you saw. What you felt.

-You’ve heard in small towns everyone knows each other. You don’t know anyone. No one acknowledges you. New faces show up everyday, or are they old faces grown unrecognizable? You start to forget family members, friends, yourself. You don’t remember what you look like. You don’t remember your own name. You lock yourself in your room and try to remember.

-It rains all summer. “At least we won’t get a drought this year!” you joke. You see news reports of other towns simply being washed away. Flooding everywhere. Children drowning. “At least we won’t get a drought.” You are very glad you know how to swim.

-The leaves don’t turn colors one year. You pretend it doesn’t worry you.

-The cats bring you dead things, so mangled you can’t identify them. One day they bring you something that looks like it was cut off a larger animal, that looks vaguely human. You throw it in the trash, as you have done with the rest of their “gifts.”

-You pretend you don’t see stark white faces in the treeline. You pretend you don’t see figures on the side of the road when you drive home at night. You turn the radio up as high as it can go, roll up the car windows, and focus on the road. This is the only problem with taking the backroads, you muse.

Part 1

Story 216: The Other Shoe

The terrorists are prowling around the edges of great-grandpa’s birthday party, like predators circling a cornered flock of sheep.  I don’t even know what they want.  Knowing Great-gramps, he’s thinking about offering them some cake and party hats.

Or maybe not.  Something looks wrong with him.

I mean, yes, his surprise birthday party has been crashed by terrorists.  But I’ve heard all the stories, he should be smiling and telling everyone it’s going to be fine while he charms the bomb vests right off these assholes.  Instead he’s crying.  I’m the closest, I’m probably the only one that can sidle over and talk to him without getting shot.
“Gramps!” I whisper.
He smiles at me, for a second, then looks even sadder. “Oh, honey.  I’m so sorry.  This is all my fault.”
“Dude, Gramps, you didn’t even know about the party.  And it’s not like you invited the terrorists… did you?”  I mean it as a joke, but he looks away like he’s feeling guilty.  "It’s fine, Gramps.  You’ve gotten through worse than this.  What about that time you were on a collapsing bridge in Bangladesh?  Or that thing with the airplane over the Atlantic?“
He shakes his head.  "Those were different.”

One of the terrorists is on the phone.  I can’t make out what he’s saying, but he looks… passionate.  I guess he’s making demands or something.  Presumably that means the police or military or whatever are already working on a plan.
“We’re going to get out of here, Gramps.  This is just going to be a funny story for next year’s 111th birthday party.”
“No,” he says, “there won’t be a next year.  I’ve killed you all.”  Well, Jesus.  Is it possible he’s serious?  Could lovable old Gramps have something to do with these guys?  It doesn’t seem likely.  I mean, he’s lived an interesting life - as evidenced by the enormous turnout for the party - but it’s all been basically aboveboard.  If anything he’s just one of a hundred targets; among the friends and children (and grandchildren, and great grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren…) are some very important people.  Politicians, renowned doctors, entertainers, high profile lawyers, military… it was giving me an inferiority complex before I got distracted by the threat of being blown to pieces.

“Gramps, don’t be so negative.  We’re going to be fine, and this isn’t your fault.  I mean, do you even know who these yahoos are?  You couldn’t have seen this coming.”
He shrugs.  "Not exactly.  But I should have known something would.  I was stupid, of course he’s patient.  He had all the time in the world to set this up.“
“Okay Gramps, you’re officially freaking me out.  Everyone loves you.  Nobody is out to get you.”
He sighs, and looks at me with the most crushed, apologetic face I’ve ever seen on anyone in my family.  "I was young, and foolish.  I was in Turkey, walking along the shore.  There was a place where a cliff was slowly crumbling into the sea, probably had been for hundreds of years.  And there was a spot, it must have been a cave once but by then it was just a shallow alcove.“

For a second he doesn’t look so sad, he’s lost in the memory.  To someone that’s a hundred and ten I guess ‘young’ could mean a lot of things, but from that faraway look I’m guessing it was at least ninety years ago.
"I found what seemed like a strange rock - it was the shape, like an egg, that got my attention.  But once I cleaned the dirt and salt off of it I could see it was some kind of pottery.  Not a vase or anything, just a hard-baked lump.”
“Gramps, I don’t understand.”
“I broke it,” he says, as if I hadn’t spoken, “I was leaving and didn’t feel like keeping it, and I threw it against the rocks.  That’s when I realized there was something inside.  A container.”
Oh my god, nobody could ever get a totally straight answer about how Gramps made his first fortune.  Is this it?  Did he find a lost pirate treasure on some Turkish beach, or… I look at the terrorists again.  The one on the phone has gone from ‘passionate’ to 'disconcertingly intense’.  Maybe not treasure.
“Jesus, did you find some terrorist drug stash or something?”
“No, no.  Far worse.  It was a container with a Djinn inside.  A genie.”

Okay, Gramps is either messing with me or insane.  Probably that first one.  This whole 'upset’ act is a con to suck me in so he can have a big laugh later.  That’s more in line with the Gramps I know.
“He offered me three wishes for freeing him, and… I thought I was clever.  My first two wishes, they were terrible run-on sentences, mangled things that should have been three or four wishes each.  He looked furious, but each time he just said 'granted’.  After the second one I got scared, I knew that money and talent wouldn’t do me any good if the Djinn struck me dead.  So I wished for a long healthy life, and I said…”
He breaks down, full on sobbing.  Shit.  Is he not joking?  What the fuck is going on here?
“Grandpa, are you okay?  Grandpa?”
“I’m so sorry.  So sorry.  This is all my fault.”
“Grandpa, no!  We’ll be fine.”
He grabs me by the shoulders, those old hands still powerful.  His eyes are on fire, staring into mine like he’s begging me to forgive him.
“I was picturing a hospital bed, do you understand?  I was thinking of something peaceful.”
“Grandpa, you’re going to be okay.  You’ll see.”
“No.  He was so angry.  And I said…”

The terrorist on the phone raises his voice for a moment, screaming Bible verses at the negotiator or whoever on the other end of the line, and then he throws the cell phone against the wall where it shatters into a hundred pieces.

“I said I wanted to die surrounded by my loved ones.”

If You're Gone

Requested by an anonymous friend: Legolas x Reader, inspired by the Matchbox Twenty song “If You’re Gone.”

Mereth Nuin Giliath – Feast of Starlight
– my son
– King
hir nín
– my lord
le melin – I love you
meleth e-guilen – love of my life
hervenn nín – my husband


I think I’ve already lost you
I think you’re already gone
I think I’m finally scared now
And you think I’m weak, I think you’re wrong

Legolas slipped past the Elf who silently served the guests at the head table with wine and took his seat beside you under the gimlet stare of King Thranduil.

“I am sorry,” he murmured. “I only stopped to look in on the prisoners.”

“I trust all is well?” Your smile was exaggerated in its brightness for the benefit of your future father-in-law, and your entire body exhaled when at last Thranduil turned his attention elsewhere.

“Fine,” Legolas said distractedly, reaching for his glass, “everything is fine.”

A gentle arch of your eyebrows, and he replaced the glass untasted, with the exasperation he’d sought to suppress sparking in his blue eyes.

“Tauriel was speaking with one of them.”

“With a Dwarf? Why should she do that?”

“Exactly what I wish to know,” he muttered darkly.

“Surely it was nothing. Perhaps she was merely gathering information,” you offered, but he shook his head, with irritation stinging in his tone.

“What I overheard was no interrogation.”

You dropped your eyes to the tablecloth before you, cowed, and Legolas softened, reaching for your hand in your lap to clasp it in his.

“Forgive me,” he sighed. “I am as boorish as the creatures lodged in our cells. Tonight is a festive occasion…and tomorrow evening will be a joyous one.”

A flush warmed your cheeks at the allusion to the ceremony to come, and you squeezed his hand charitably as he went on.

“My father says it is most auspicious to enact a betrothal during Mereth Nuin Giliath,” he said, “that love so begun will shine as brightly and eternally as the starlight we celebrate.”

“Then may it prove true for us,” you smiled.

With a reciprocal smile, he drank from the wine in his glass while you studied him, searching his face thoughtfully.

“You are happy, Legolas?”

Surprise ruffled his smooth brow. “Yes, of course. Aren’t you?”

“Of course,” you nodded quickly.

He raised your hand carelessly to his lips before a brooding look overcame him again, and a servant with laden dishes bowed between you.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hey, can you make one where the reader always rides a bike (she goes everywhere with it) and the first day of her new job at the BAU she hits a car on her way there but still goes after the accident, like al bloody and Spencer helps her/fluff

Yes, I most certainly can!  Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!

“Miss?  Miss, can you hear me?”

Blinking your eyes slowly, the world quickly coming back in to view, you lob your head over and see your mangled bike.

Oh god.

Feeling for your phone, you see a man dip into your view as he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank god.  You’re not dead.”

Yeah, thanks.

Sticking your hand in your pocket, you feel your phone in pieces.


“Here, let me help you sit up,” the man says as you hear an ambulance off in the distance.

“I am so sorry,” he says as he dusts off your back, “It was completely my fault.”

Feeling the world tilt a little bit, you grab on to him as you rise to your feet, looking down the street at your office not two blocks away.

“I’m late,” you mutter, looking down at the ground and trying to pick up your things.

“Miss, I think you should stay still.  The ambulance is almost here,” the stranger says, lightly tugging on your arm.

“Hey!” you say, stumbling backwards as you hang on to your stuff, “I have work, and a boss, and a broken phone, and…”

Feeling the world tilt again, you hold your hand out and steady yourself against the wall.

“I think your boss’ll understand, miss,” the man says, concern in his eyes as he dips into your vision again.

“Just…hold on,” you say, holding up a finger to him as you lob your body towards the front of the building, sloppily climbing the steps as you enter the front lobby of the FBI building.


Trying to shake off the nausea rising in your stomach, the elevator dings as you stumble out thru the door, dropping your things yet again as you go plummeting to the floor.

There she is!” Morgan exclaims, turning around before taking in your sight.

“Oh my god,” Spencer exclaims, rushing to your side as you pick yourself up, raising your head to reveal your blackening eye and your bloody ear and nose.

“Y/L/N, what happened?” Hotch asks, rushing to your side as he takes your stuff from you.

“I…uh…I’m sorry, boss, m-my phone…”

Pulling out your broken phone from your pocket, Rossi takes it from you as he sits a chair at your back, bringing his hands down on your shoulders as he urges you to sit.

Feeling a cool washcloth at your neck, you wince before the world tumbles again, feeling the urge to vomit.

Swallowing hard, your gaze finds Spencer, who is wiping at the blood trickling down your neck from your ear as he raises his other hand and runs it lightly over your swollen eye.

“Someone hit me on my bike,” you manage to get out between deep breaths.

“Why are you not at a hospital right now?” Morgan asks, crouching down in to your view.

“My phone…” you drift off, lobbing your head over to Hotch, “I…I had no way t-to call…”

Hearing the elevator doors ding, you hear people scuttle off as a authoritative woman comes around and gets into your view.

“We were told a crash victim stumbled in to the building,” she says, flashing a flashlight in your eyes as someone else tilts your head upright.

And that’s all it took.

Lobbing your head off towards Spencer, your body pushes up the contents of your breakfast at his feet, your body shaking and your forehead sweating as he rips his vest off and holds it in front of you, catching the rest of your spewage before wrapping it up and setting it off to the side.

“You have a concussion, Y/N,” Spencer says kindly, the cool washcloth coming to your nose as he lightly dabs at the dried up blood coating your lips.

“Spencer…” you say, your eyes glistening as your stomach churns again.

Recognizing your face, Spencer reaches for the nearest trash can, holding it in front of you as the vomit starts to spew through your nose, tears flowing from your eyes as the medical team sets up a gurney to put you on.

“You’re going to the hospital,” Hotch says, taking your hand as you continue to heave into a trash can, feeling Spencer lay the cool washcloth on your neck as he leans his forehead into your temple.

“I’m going with her,” Spencer murmurs.

Shaking your head rapidly, you raise up your reddened, puffy and black eyes to meet his concerned gaze.

“T-they…need you here,” you stammer, your body shaking as the world starts to go in and out.

“I’m coming with you,” Spencer enunciates as the medical team takes your body from the chair and lays you on the gurney.

Reaching your arm out, your palm outstretched to the world, you feel Spencer lay his hand in it, walking alongside you as the medical team wheels you in to he elevator.

“Tell Hotch I’m so sorry,” you whisper, your eyes filled with tears.

“I will,” Spencer says, his concerned gaze filling with tears as he leans forward and kisses your forehead lightly just before the world goes black.

Cards On The Table, We’re Both Showing Hearts - fic

Characters: Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne
Summary: Everything I do, I do it for you.
A/N: Set a couple weeks after Robin War, we’ll say, and that the Court gave Dick a time limit before he had to show up for their ranks. This is the night before he was supposed to leave, obviously. Probably happens in the Cave, but really, could be wherever you wanted. I paraphrased what Dick said in Robin War2, about doing it all for the Robins. Supplemental listening/number one descriptor of Dick and Damian’s relationship: ‘All of Me’ by John Legend.


Keep reading

Request: I Want To

Request: Hi, I was just wondering if you could write an imagine where a girl gets taken by a demon and then he tells her she’s his daughter, and he’s going to kill her but then Cas shows up and smites him, but he doesn’t know what to do with her so he brings her to Sam and Dean in the bunker? It’s kind of an awkward meeting but it gets worse when Cas tells the reader the demon killed her mom before taking her and Sam comforts her? I know it’s kind of long, but you can make changes if you like. Thanks!

Word Count: 1,072

So…this happened. I hope it’s okay, thank you and enjoy!:)

“Don’t touch me!” You hiss, straining to get away from the creature. “Get off!”

The thing, surprisingly, removes its hands from your head and steps back, hands raised. You look around the room, hoping, praying for something to save you.

Please, if there’s anything at all up there, I could use some help!

It raises an eyebrow, grinning maniacally, “You know what I can do to you, girl. Don’t take that tone with me.”

It looks human. It feels human. Everything about it is human apart from its eyes- dark, onyx pits that stretch an eternity ahead, never ending and full of evil and threat. It is anything but human.

“What are you going to do to me?” You ask, trying desperately to keep the fear from your voice. It laughs, the sound tearing from its throat in a tone full of darkness.

“You don’t want to know.” It whispers, coming dangerously close to you. “I may strangle you with your own guts, or show you your own heart, still beating in my hand.”

You let out an unbidden whimper, and mentally curse yourself as it laughs again.

“So, Y/N,” You don’t question how it knows you name, “How’s your dear mother?”

“Don’t you touch her!”

“Oh, but dear, if I had never touched her, you wouldn’t be here!” It says, a short cackle coming from it.

“Wait- what?”

“She never told you?” Its face is all you can see, “You always were different to the other kids, huh? With your…abilities.”

They only worked when you were incredibly emotional, but you would accidentally smash windows and turn off lights.

“You never questioned it?” It hisses, pulling back with a grin. “You have me to thank for bringing you into this world, and it will be me to take you out.”

It pulls a knife from a pocket, and positions it at your throat. “You’re lucky, I’m feeling rather merciful today.”

Then, a hand wraps around its face from behind. You close your eyes as a bright white light fills the room, and you don’t look back when you hear the knife clatters to the floor and the light dies away.

Then, the ropes around your wrists and ankles are gone. Not untied, just…gone. You stand up, backing away. Your back hits the wall, and it is only then that you look to your saviour.

He’s relatively nondescript- dark hair, pale-ish skin, wearing a beige trench coat over a black suit.

“Who are you?” You whisper, and the man takes a step closer to you.

At least you think it’s a man. You don’t trust anything anymore.

“I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord.”

Alright, maybe it’s not a man after all.

You nod slowly, “What was that thing?”

“A demon, an agent of Hell.” He says, and you nod again.

“You know what, everything’s so crazy that I almost believe you.”

“Allow me to take you to some…friends of mine. They can help you better than I.” You can tell he’s floundering somewhat, and you nod.

“Alright. Where are they?”

Suddenly, he’s by your side. His hand lands on your shoulder, and before you have time to protest, you’re whisked into darkness.

When the blackness resides, you’re stood in a small room. There’s two guys, one taller and one shorter, and they’re staring at you. Your eyes land on the floor and stay there.

“Cas? Who’s this?” The taller one asks.

“This is Y/N. She- a demon got her. Almost.” The apparent-angel tells them, and you mentally frown.

How does everyone know my name?

“Hi, Y/N.” The same guy says again. The other one just stares at you skeptically. “I’m Sam, and this is my brother, Dean. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

They have you explain the situation, and you tell them it all- from waking up to Cas saving you. When you tell them about your supposed parentage, they glance at each other warily, then look back to you. They give you whiskey, which you really needed.

“I appreciate this, I do. But my mom’ll be worried sick, and-” Cas interrupts you, speaking your name in a way that you instantly know what’s coming next.

“The demon got to your mother before we did. He killed her. If it at all assures you, her last thoughts were of you.”

Your stomach twists horribly and you feel tears begin to blur your vision, the heat rising behind your eyes. A twisted, mangled sob rises from your stomach, and suddenly, the lights in the room flicker and go out.

You hear a short murmur, and Sam moves closer to you, “Y/N? Did you…?”

You shrug, “It happens sometimes. But I promise, I’m not like him!” You choke out, knowing that they kill things like you. Panic fills you, and you go to step backwards.

“No, don’t worry.” He insists, “We know, okay? You have nothing to worry about.” He promises, leading you to a small couch. He shares a look with his brother, who nods. He motions to Cas, and leaves the room.

“They’re going to go and check your house, okay, and make sure there’s no other threat so we can take you back there. If you want.” He wraps a thin blanket around your shoulders as more and more tears fall down your face. You shrug.

“I hate him.” You whisper, “I hate him so much.”

“Don’t hate him.” He takes both of your hands in his, leaning down in front of you. “He’s dead, okay? Gone.”

“So’s my mom. Because of him.” You whisper, and he shakes his head.

“I know. But he got what he deserved. He’s not coming back, ever.” He shakes his head slowly, “I’ve killed things like it for a lot of years. They don’t change. But you know what?”

You shake your head, and look at him tearfully.

“They were human once. They went to Hell and their souls twisted and mangled under all of the pressure.”


He nods, a small smile on his face. Suddenly, he hugs you, and you lean into him.

“It’s going to be fine, I promise you. You’re going to be fine.”

You nod, and after a while, you speak. Your voice is clearer.

“I want to help you.” You say, looking at him, “I want to get rid of those things.”

“You don’t. It’s not glamorous, or fun, or-“

“I don’t care. I want to do it.”

Going Down

You know – He did say we were going to be stuck here for a while, so..

Character: Dean x Reader
Reader Gender: female
Word Count: 3345
Warnings: Smut, mild language

A/N: I wrote this one as an early birthday present to myself because if this happened to me, I would die from pure bliss right afterward. Don’t be shy, please tell me what you think! :)

Keep reading

cliffxrdluke  asked:

Secret Santa AU? (Like one half of the OTP assigned to get gifts from the other or something idk I'm a slut for this AU)

arrgh we need to finish all christmas prompts today hahah sweats profusely

  • I can’t believe you got me these hideous oven mittens what the hell I don’t even bake?? I thought we knew each other, I burn water man
  • I hoped my secret santa was going to be the person I’m infatuated with, but no it turns out it’s actually you ugh. But it turns out your gift was actually really nice and wow I had no idea you knew I even liked this

  • you completely forgot about secret santa so you gave me a shitty last-minute handmade coupon titled ‘I’ll do whatever you want for a whole day’

  • I had absolutely no idea what to give you so I brought you a toothbrush and wow if looks could kill I’d be mangled and dead on the floor. I’m sorry?

  • I thought I got my best friend so I bought a really wacky and stupid gift but it turns out I got someone else with the same name as my friend and shit

- jo 

And a Fish for Luck

Angel:  Michael
Words:  1450
Author: Scruff
Warning(s):  mild swearing, cheesy-fluffiness
Note(s):  I know the request is for Thanksgiving, but I hope it works just as well now.  I’m going off the idea that, being an angel, Michael is kosher (if I messed it up, let me know).  Also, the ‘traditional southern New-Year’s meal’ consists of everything I’ve eaten for New Year’s lunch every year I can remember.  I know it can be a little different for each southern (US) family, but this is what my family does (we’re from Georgia, in case you were wondering)
Happy New Years!!!

Keep reading

the-black-nnermaid  asked:

Hi! Do you have any fics where stiles is older than Derek? Thanks!!!

older!stiles tag

Smoke and Mirrors by BlueMoonTruths (4/? | 7,894 | R)

Stiles is a natural born Alpha infiltrating the fortress run by wolves looking to wipe out the rest of humanity. He goes in with the intent to save his human friend Allison, but finds an Omega who just might need his help even more.

Hold Me Closer by orphan_account (1/1 | 6,366 | NR)

Five times Derek was there to protect Stiles and the one time Stiles protected him.

Broken Lines by lilithduvare (2/? | 7,799 | NC17)

Stiles looked at the woman who used to be his mother dead in the eyes, his blood sitting frozen in his veins from terror and heartbreak. She was still beautiful, even with her husband’s blood covering her mouth and fingers, matching the color of her glowing, inhuman irises, but she wasn’t Stiles’ mother. This monster, who wore that achingly familiar smile, crouching over the mangled and barely recognizable body of Stiles’ father could never be his mother.

Stiles is turned into a werewolf by his own supposedly dead mother and has to spend the next three years being tortured and terrorized under the Alpha Pack’s tender care. But he doesn’t break and in the end he makes his escape. Only to get recruited by the American Alpha Council which eventually leads him to cross path with the Hales’ only human child, Derek in more ways than one.

You look like my next mistake by Vendelin (1/1 | 15,194 | PG13)

“So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes.

His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to.

In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn’t.


Rating: Mature

Pairing: Rey / Kylo Ren

Trigger warning for disordered eating.

True need hurts in the pit of your stomach, a hollowness begging to be filled. Rey remembers that feeling as well as her own name, because hunger was her constant companion for fifteen years, the closest thing to a friend that she knew. It held her close while she fought to sleep, the ache in her belly the only distraction from her loneliness. Hunger never lied, never cheated her, never left her behind, and its pain was a petty one compared to suffering of the heart. By age nine Rey had taught herself how to accept it, to work through it, to thrive off of her body’s weakness instead of being crippled by it.

Now she’s a Resistance fighter, and whenever she returns from a mission there’s a hot meal waiting for her. Real meat, fresh greens, hearty bread, ripe fruit, and it’s always something different every day. Luxurious fare for a scavenger, used to the same monotonous portions when she was lucky enough to eat at all.

Today she swirls her rare meat in its brown sauce, then cuts it into tiny pieces. It smells delicious, unfamiliar spices heating its scent, and Rey’s mouth waters as she breathes in. She should eat, she knows, but her mission to uncover the First Order’s new weapons schematics went poorly. All she can think about is Unkar Plutt, evaluating the fruits of her day’s labors, and deeming them only worth a quarter-portion. If you don’t earn your keep, you go hungry; this is the truth of the world as Rey sees it.

It seems wrong to take this food when she doesn’t deserve it. So she slides her tray over to Finn, who frowns and asks if she’s feeling all right.

“I’m fine, just not hungry,” Rey lies. “See you later.”

She wanders the base, trying to think of anything besides the familiar ache in her belly. She isn’t paying enough attention, because she rounds a corner without looking and runs right into Kylo Ren. He steadies her, those large hands cradling her shoulders, and Rey feels small beneath the strength of his touch—the way she always does.

(She refuses to think about the nights they’ve shared together. How he sometimes comes to her room in the dark hours between dusk and dawn. How she lets him in, every time, because loneliness is a wicked thing, and Kylo’s place in her bed keeps it at bay. At least for a little while.)

Her gaze is drawn to the thick, puckered burn mark that cuts across his face. The scar she gave him the night Starkiller collapsed. The night he murdered his father.

“Admiring your handiwork?” he asks, voice dry.

His hands are still on her, warm even through the thickness of his gloves.

Kylo has abandoned the menacing black clothes he wore while he was under Snoke’s command, but he still dresses in dark colors and covers himself all over. Except for his face. He doesn’t hide behind a mask anymore.

Rey steps backward, breaking the contact. She walks around him, doesn’t bother answering his flippant question, and makes her way to her room.

She goes to bed early and lies on her back, staring up at the ceiling, hopelessly awake. Rey’s stomach is twisted in knots, but she ignores the pain. Instead, she focuses on the sense of power she feels, the control over her own aching body. For once, she owns this hurt, instead of it possessing her. She’s hungry by choice instead of circumstance, and Rey feels strangely proud of her discipline, as if resisting dinner was a test she’d passed.

Keep reading