porn & randomness.
(banner by @einfach_mich)
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel/The Walking Dead crossover. Set post-Chosen/Not Fade Away/Hounded.
WARNINGS: graphic depictions on violence, sex, adult language.
SUMMARY: You think you know everything—that you’ve seen it all, that nothing will ever surprise you, that death and destruction is all you’ll ever know—but nothing will ever be that simple again. Daryl believes in blood-sucking dogs, dead people walking around… and vampire slayers. Then he actually sees the legend with his own eyes.
![[Image credit: moriemur]
The Red Queen was a Northern princess stolen by a mad king, who sacrificed her direwolf to his gods and began the great war that would shatter the Wall and unite all the descendents of the First Men. He would wait patiently while Gran warbled on through all the boring bits with the fat spider, the tiny finger and the folly of the wolf king. They didn’t matter, because none of them had saved the princess. That was what he liked best, because the girl who would become the Red Queen saved herself.
~ Realm of Two Queens by einfach mich](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_meg78kd5o51rsutn8o1_500.png)
[Image credit: moriemur]
The Red Queen was a Northern princess stolen by a mad king, who sacrificed her direwolf to his gods and began the great war that would shatter the Wall and unite all the descendents of the First Men. He would wait patiently while Gran warbled on through all the boring bits with the fat spider, the tiny finger and the folly of the wolf king. They didn’t matter, because none of them had saved the princess. That was what he liked best, because the girl who would become the Red Queen saved herself.
~ Realm of Two Queens by einfach mich
Fate and Growth
Artist: Alan from Pierced Hearts Tattoo Parlor in Seattle, WA
This tattoo is meant to commemorate having made it to this pivotal point in my life. I feel as if fate is pulling me upward to skies and places unknown, but I look forward to following this new path wherever it may lead. Thank you Alan for doing such an amazing job turning my vision into reality. Couldn’t have asked for a better artist.
It’s all Derek’s fault. He won’t stop feeding her every sinful, culinary delight he can find. It’s not that he is a feeder or anything kinky like that. Or so he claims. He just loves her full figure. The swell of her breast, and curvy of her belly.
When they lay in his bed, he presses his palm to the soft flesh over her tummy and presses bristly kisses along her shoulder. He cups her breast and comments on how it fill his hand. Every inch of her body is a wonder to him. So in a strange way, it makes sense he would want more inches.
If only it didn’t mean she had to shop for new, bigger clothes. Her mother’s already been giving her looks. Though her father thinks she looks happy, even said she glows. Even Allison felt the need to say something, pulling her into a dark corner of the girls locker room and demanded to know if Lydia was pregnant.
“Of course not.” Lydia grumbled and folded her arms over her tender breasts.
The realization was sudden and infuriating. She had been so careful, but she did the quick math and it added up to one Alpha wolf who would be getting a face full of aconite. No wonder he’d been attentive, so protective and insisted she not help with pack matters.
“You know I’ll fill his ass with arrows for you,” Allison said with a sympathetic grin.
“Don’t joke, I might ask you to do it.” Lydia huffed and took a seat on the bench.
“He cares about you a lot.” Allison insisted, sitting down and setting her head upon Lydia’s shoulder.
“I know, but teen pregnancy is a hell of a way to show me he cares.” Even saying it made Lydia’s skin crawl.
She could see her future narrow to a pin point. It wasn’t that she didn’t want children or that she didn’t want Derek, but not now. She had plans.
“Stupid werewolves.” Allison muttered, wrapping her arms around Lydia, who was surprised they could still encircle her.
“Stupid, sexy, idiot werewolf.” She signed and burried her face in Allison’s hair, hoping it would soak up her tears.
(via exhibitionistatheart)
She was prepared for him. Waiting naked, save for the bow, seated atop the pristine silk sheets of the brothel bed. Her pale skin lightly powdered with a bronzer, per his specification. The blood red lipstick the final garish touch to give her mouth the wanton air of a whore.
He found the incongruity deliciously preverse as was the disparaging gap in their ages. Her sweet bee-stung lips, round innocent eyes and the utterly untouched body whispered of her positively illegal beauty. The slight salty tang in the air and tremble of her upper lip spoke to fear.
It was a potent cocktail that he only allowed himself to sample once a year. This special occasion to be marked by the taking a girl who was little more than a shadow of the slip of a girl he’d allowed to get away. His little red ridding hood, with dark skin, and ebony hair. The one who had been smart enough to run away.
“Hello.” She jumped at the sound of his voice, and intensifying the scent of her fear to near intoxicating level. “My name is Peter.”
“Hi,” she said in a voice that was too soft and high pitched to fit his memories. “I’m Steph-“
“Stop.” He crossed the distance between in a blur of movement that made her jerk back, but he caught her easily and held her in an almost painful grip. “Your name is Melissa. Do you understand me?”
She nodded, while her entire body trembled under his touch. Peter smiled, a wide, unkind gesture and took a deep breath. She positively stank of fear, so unlike Melissa that night. But he wanted the fear. Needed to change this part of the memory. If only for tonight.
Tonight she wouldn’t get away.
(via cherhatton)
“So what do you think?” Derek turned around to face Stiles, an expectant expression on his face.
It was obvious from the charts and maps that he’d spent a great deal of time on the plan. Stiles knew his opinion held weight whether Derek would admit it or not. Which made Stiles feel like a complete asshole since he hadn’t heard a single thing Derek had said for the last ten minutes.
He had been too distracted by Derek’s shirtless torso, and the memories of what they’d spent the last two nights doing while everyone else thought they were doing research.
“I think that you need to wear a shirt if you need me to focus on something other than how badly I want to fuck you right now. I’d recommend turtleneck sweater.”
agrafitejungle asked: So I was looking through my tumblr drabbles and I found the pic prompts we did like forever ago. Just saying, we should do that again some time because it was super fun and I have been seriously craving some prompts lately :D
That sounds fun. We should do it again soon.
“Her life is simpler. She doesn’t have to think, doesn’t have to choose. Her life, death were all sorted out. She wasn’t even a factor. I mean, sometimes it so fucking tiring to be strong. Sometimes I just want to take a fucking dirt nap.”
(via promises-bastard)
Imagine you woke up to discover you’re a monster. Trapped in a body of a stranger. The person who put you there doesn’t even bother to give you a name.
(via promises-bastard)
We were outlaws. It just that we didn’t know it yet. No one had taught us how good it felt to break the rules.
(via promises-bastard)
Sometimes I imagine it’s my soul trying to escape. Cause god knows, I would if I could.
(via deviantfemale)
(Continuation of How to Make a Caged Bird Sing)
“One more.” The whip cut through the air with a sharp hiss and struck home with a loud crack.
Darcy flinched, but made no sound. Her eyes were closed, jaw clenched. Face flushed a rose color that highlighted her pale skin, much like the red marks crisscrossing her buttocks and back.
“Good girl,” Loki sighed, pushing his hair from his face and set the whip back on the wall. “Now for your reward.”
“Please,” her whispered, her head craning to see him.
“You do look so succulent when you beg.” He strode over to brush his fingers over her now tear slicked cheek.
“I told you, i don’t know where she is,” her eyes were wide, pleading and he almost felt pity for his poor little confused pet.
“We are beyond such trifles,” Loki said, with a shake of his head. “You are far more fascinating than pursuing Thor’s whore.”
She pulled back from his touch, her eyes flared with defiance. “She is not a whore.”
Loki grinned down at her, delight sparkling in his eyes. “Oh, do not disparage a noble and ancient profession, my pet. After all, you are no better. At least they are paid for their services.”
He leaned closer, sliding his hand across her belly and between her legs. “Though I suppose this could be considered a form of compensation.”
Darcy gasped as his fingers slid between her legs. “Oh god!”
“Yes,” he laughed and slowly drew circles upon her slick, heated skin.
She proved most amusing. This desire for pain and pleasure. Her inexplicable craving for his touch even as she spat forth insults. He could feel how desperately she wanted him, be it through kindness or cruelty. Little Darcy Lewis was deeply enamored. Foolish mortal.
It was a glorious game, taking her to the threshold of her body’s limit only to pull her back from the brink and bring her to her knees with overwhelming pleasure. Darcy’s body trembled as her orgasm overtook her, a shrill scream erupting from her beautiful lips. He would never cease to be fascinated by this display of uncontrolled desire. The violent beauty of her please left him aroused beyond measure.
She sagged in her restrains, boneless and sweaty from exertion. He quickly banished the chains and cuffs with a thought, easily catching her limp body before she hit the floor. It was strange how he felt the weight of her body acutely as he held her in his arm. She was no true burden to his strength, but the sight of her limp and glistening with spent desire tugged at him.
He banished the thought and set her down upon the silken bed. The cool material would soothe her now unmarked skin. There was no need for her to continue to wear the wounds, but he ensured her skin retained the memory of the pain.
He had watched her after each session and noted a certain amount of pleasure she derived from the soreness. She would hiss and gingerly shift on the bed, touching her skin and closing her eyes as of to savor the pain. A wistful smile pulling her full lips into a seductive bow.
She moaned softly when he set her upon the sheets and carefully spread her dark hair over the pillow in a spray of mahogany waves. He had an inordinate fascination with her hair. It was silky and thick. While its hue at first glance appeared mundane, when it caught the sunlight is was a captivating kaleidoscope of colors.
He brushed it from her face and lightly grazed her cheek with his knuckles. Her eyes opened and a small smile played over her lips. There was not doubt she confounded him.
“Why me?” Her voice was a small whisper, hoarse and strained.
“Must there be a reason?” He matched her smile, sitting down beside her on the bed.
“I’m just some dumbass in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she sighed reaching out to press her hand to his chest.
“You’re no victim of chance.” He took hold of her hand and guided it down between his legs, so she could feel him hard and straining against the thick leather of his pants. “I alone took hold of your fate. You are mine.”
Her eyelids grew heavy, lowering over he dark eyes. “Then stop teasing me and take what’s yours.”
She gently squeezed his cock, he could feel her nails biting into the leather. He imagined the delightfully sting that would pierce his skin. Devious little creature. She possessed her own magic that threatened to distract him. He laughed, deep and low, gently pulling her hand away. Darcy groaned as he placed a kiss upon her knuckles and stood.
“Sadistic bastard.” She slowly rolled onto her stomach, pressing her flushed face into her pillow.
Loki only laughed louder as he left the room.
(via fitandfetish)