superqueerwritingfangirl-blog

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

"Please dont hurt her", "You know why? Because i am freaking in love with you" and "please dont leave me" with Spencer where they are abducted and tortured. Thank you so much

Coming up!

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

100 Followers/Please Forgive My Absence Special!!

Pick up to THREE prompts, character(s), and add a bit of detail as to the theme of the fic. In light of Pride Month, I will happily do lgbt+ requests. I will also consider doing smut.

**Reader insert prompts only (can be platonic! or sibling! reader)**

You do not have to be a follower, just send in some numbers, a person, and a bit of detail.

Now, for the SPECIAL!!!!

All those who send in a request OFF anon will be entered into a giveaway, of sorts. Two people will be picked, at random, to get a 100% custom fic written about them. This will include your name, pronouns, chosen character to be paired with, physical description, and scenario of your choice.

To be entered in the fic giveaway you must send in reader insert request (different from what you would want your custom fic to be). Don’t just ask to be entered.

**SHARE TO BE ENTERED IN A SECOND TIME**

Prompts:

“Do it! Kill me! Please!”

“Ma’am, is this your dog?”

“No, it’s really not that complicated. He’s a bad person.”

“This is my fault.”

“How could you do this?”

“How could I do this?”

“You’ve got thirty seconds to explain to me what you’re doing here.”

“I know this may be hard to believe, but I’m on your side.”

“Never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.”

“Just sit around and cry, then. I don’t have that luxury.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“That’s the nice thing about telling the truth. You don’t have nearly as much to keep track of.”

Of course, we’re best friends. No one else would put up with our shenanigans.”

“That’s the least of your worries.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Who put this in my coat pocket?”

“I can’t keep doing this.”

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“You think you’re so good-looking, but deep down, you’re the kind of ugly that PhotoShop can’t fix.”

“I know you did your best… It just wasn’t enough.”

“Guess who made the evening news!”

“I’ve tried so hard not to love them, but I can’t stop it.”

“Bite me.”

“Call me bitch, one more time.” “Bitch!”

“Stop, you’re scaring people.”

“A name is a very powerful thing. Don’t just give your’s to anybody.”

“It’s ok. You don’t have to love me. I’ll be ok.”

“You deserve this.”

“Are you just going to keep walking by my house or are you going to come in?”

“It’s three in the morning.”

“I thought we were friends!”

“That’s not a good look.”

“It’s a genetic trait, but it’s exceptionally rare.”

“I love you, but I don’t even think I know who you really are.”

“You can just fuck right off.”

“Was that supposed to hurt?”

“Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture.”

“Sweetie, what were you thinking?”

“What makes you think it was an accident?”

“Sorry. You’re the first person I’ve spoken to in ten years.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got a blowtorch around here?”

“I never, ever want to hear you say that again.”

“Don’t just stand there looking at me.”

“In my next life, I want to come back as a butterfly.”

"Oh my God. I’m in love with her."

“You...You cum bucket!”

“When I left this house we had a fish. Now I’m home and there are two dogs outside, another inside, and you’re holding… One, two, three...THREE KITTENS! I need an explanation.”

“It’s true.”

“Why can’t you just love me?”

“I’m… Gay..”

“And I thought I had daddy issues.”

“You really don’t remember me, do you.”

“You abandoned me when I was at my lowest and now you expect me to forget it? No, we are not cool.”

“Everything after you was a mistake.”

“I miss you more than anything.”

“Compared to you I’m just a blip in history.”

“Please just.. Don’t hurt her/him.”

“I hate you, but I love you.”

“Will you ever understand?! I did it because I love you!”

“I didn’t know I could feel this way, til I met you.”

“You look…stunning.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Touch her again, and you’ll regret it!”

“Five more minutes…?”

“Stop stealing the covers.”

“You know, you’re really sexy when you’re angry.”

“You know why?! It’s because I’m fucking in love with you!”

“I’m so cold.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I look at you and I see myself”

“I know you’re better than anyone else” 

“He told me that loving him was never enough”

“There’s an old man sitting on a throne, saying that I probably shouldn’t be so mean”

“Won’t you carry me to the end?”

“Do you want to be with somebody like me?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“How did you even get this far in life?”

“I may hate myself but I love puppies.”

“Look at what I did!”

“I am not what you think I am. I am worse.”

“Just because I am hot doesn’t mean you have to stare like that.”

“I am so great.”

“Dance with me.”

“There’s been an accident.”

“Look at what you did!”

“I always get what I want.”

“You’re such a dweeb.”

“I will cry all over your shirt.” 

“I don’t understand why this happened.”

“See, I’m not that evil.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t do that.” 

“I’m the insane one? Really?”

“You did that.” 

“You’re telling me when I look into the mirror, I am actually looking into sand?”

“Ouch, that gotta hurt.”

“I am losing my mind!” 

“I love music so much!” 

“The stars are in your eyes and I don’t get how they got there.”

“This is great isn’t it?” 

“I will not break you unless you deserve to be broken.”

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

Who’s ready for the SURPRISE?!?!?! Posting it in an hour!

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

Nothing truly specific, just wanted to know. Thanks love

Okie Dokie

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

Hi hun, I was wondering if you had a masterlist?

Not yet. I’m going to work on it soon, after the surprise is posted. Is there anything you’re looking for?

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

I am now shook, thank

Anything to shook a fellow anon

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

What stories do you have coming up for us? Please and thanks, I'm curious sorry.

Right now I’m working on Siren Song and then, tbh, my writing schedule is 100% cleared because.......

I HAVE A HUGE SURPRISE COMING!!!!

BE EXCITED!!!

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

Dude, I just found you and I wish I had ages ago! Your blog is awesome, but can I just ask a question? I know what it's like to be queer, I am myself, but how is it being queer and homeschooled? I don't mind if you don't want to answer though, I'm not forcing you. Peace! ^_^

I’m actually not homeschooled, I go to online school (K12). But I don’t quite understand your question, if you are a bit more specific I’ll answer.

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

Papaya

papaya: what song describes your aesthetic?

Don’t Want to be Your Girl by Wet

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

send me a fruit

peach: do you have any piercings or tattoos?

raspberry: favorite flower?

lemon: do you have any pets? what are their names?

mango: what is your trademark?

passion fruit: how would you describe your style?

pineapple: sexual orientation?

strawberry: favorite desserts?

cherry: can you play any musical instruments or can you sing?

grape: if you could take a vacation anywhere in the world, where would you go?

banana: favorite horror movies?

blackberry: is your life an action film, a comedy, a romantic comedy, or drama?

pomegranate: when do you feel the most confident?

cantaloupe: what are your parents' names?

guava: dark & dramatic makeup or natural makeup?

tangelo: if you could be any mythical creature, which would you be?

plum: favorite clothing brands?

coconut: favorite perfume?

lychee: satin or lace?

blueberry: what do you want to dress up as for halloween?

apple: what do you use more, tumblr or twitter?

kiwi: what's something that fascinates you?

watermelon: do you have a job? if so, what is your job title?

papaya: what song describes your aesthetic?

cranberry: favorite time of the day; morning, afternoon, dusk, or night?

nectarine: would you consider yourself an emotional person?

orange: do you have long eyelashes?

apricot: what do you do when you're sad?

star fruit: favorite sea creature?

dragonfruit: do you drink alcohol?

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

You're back!! I've missed you so much. I hope everything is okay, I hope that you're well. Much love ❤

I’m ok. I’ve had rehearsals for drama club right after school. Meanwhile, I was studying for exams and I went through a bout of depression that caused me to change my depression meds which put me in a writers block. But then Sherlock came on Netflix and now idea’s are flooding my brain!

Thank you for sending an ask, I thought everyone forgot about me.

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

Scattered Memories(Pt. 5)

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Character Ship: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 1440

Summary: You wake up in a cold dark room. Where are you? Where's Spencer?

Warnings: Nothing this time.. I think..

Authors Note: Hey guys!! I’m back!!! It’s been insane, but I’m back. I’m going to be posting Siren Song soon. Once I’m all caught up I have a surprise for you!!

Part 1, Part 4, Part 6 coming soon

The surface under you was hard and smooth with hard little pebbles scattered over it. It froze against your bare arm, the pebbles scraping into your fragile skin. Opening your eyes you were greeted with a horrible darkness. You attempted to stand, only to find that your wrists and ankles were bound by some sort of painful rope with another rope connecting your wrists to your ankles.

The speed at which your tried to stand swept you off of your feet, snapping the rope that held your wrists to your ankles. As you landed your head took most of the blow and then suddenly you were gone.

Without warning a bright, hazy light momentarily blinded you. As your eyes focused back to the world you instantly found Spencer. He had a large welt on his forehead, bright red with purple starting to form. His eyes wide as he whispered your name, loud enough for you to hear but still quiet as to not alert anyone.

You aren’t conscious enough to respond and you can’t keep your eyes open for too long, blinking an obscene amount. “(Y/N)!” he called in a mumbled whisper. “I need you to wake up, ok? Ian is going to be back any second and I think he might be moving our location. We’re in that shed you talked about but he’s loading things into a truck, I think. You have a better memory than I do, I know you'll remember this.”

His eyes glaze over, a few tears leaving the corners of his eye. “He doesn’t care I about me - he only took me because I was there. When you get the chance you need to run, as fast and as far as you can.” He paused for a moment, you could feel your brain getting foggy again. “Once you’re gone he’ll - he’ll let me go.” Through the fuzz in your brain, you knew he was lying - that wasn’t Ian’s MO. He would kill anyone that could identify him.

You see boots approach in front of your view of Spencer. Spencer started yelling, attempting to get the attention of who you assumed to be Ian. You couldn’t move, although you wanted to. His left foot lifted off of the ground, hovering over your face. And as quickly as you were brought to the memory you were back to the present.

You gasped, your bound hands reaching up to feel your face. You once fair looks were masked with swollen and assumedly bruised features. Simply touching your face brought a wave of searing pain through your body, you yelled out into the dark.

Seconds later who heard a voice call your name. “(Y/N)!” The voice begged. Spencer.

You sighed deeply, a wave of relief washing over you. “Spencer? Where are you?”

“Can you follow my voice? I was out when he put us in here.”

“I’ll try.” You said, tears threatening to spill as you clumsily untied your ankle restraints - unable to get your wrist restraints though. “Tell me a story...or a poem. One of Edgar Allen Poe’s poems you love so much.”

“Ok.” He said as you tried to pinpoint the source of his voice, ignoring the echoes.

“It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.”

You smiled, almost immediately recognizing the poem - Annabel Lee by Edgar Allen Poe. For a second you didn’t take a step, not wanting Spencer’s beautiful rendition of Annabel Lee to be drowned out by your footsteps.

Eventually, you did, hearing his voice far ahead of you as he continued.

“I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea: But we loved with a love that was more than love-- I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.”

You held yourself back from sobbing as you placed yourself and Spencer as the two people in this poem. Innocently in love and away from harm at the sea. You promised yourself once this nightmare was over that’s where you’ll go.

You took a couple steps more, putting your hands out in front of you and widening your eyes as if that would compel the darkness to cease. His voice was still ahead of you but now you could hear it was also a bit to the right, so you sidestepped a handful of times.

“And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea.”

His voice grew louder as you noticed it breaking a few times. Your heart ached and, again, you wanted to stop for a moment and allow yourself to wash in his voice. To put yourself elsewhere.

As you took another step your foot landed on something that rolled out from underneath you with a plasticky crunch. Once again your feet went into the arm and you landed on your bum. For a second you heard the sloshing of water accompany the crunch and you desperately scoured the concrete floor, looking for what you hoped to be a bottle of water. Suddenly noticing how thirsty you were.

“What’s happening?” Spencer asked.

“I think I tripped over a bottle of water!” You cried, your hand hitting a cold plastic object. “I got it! We can share.”

“I’m so thirsty,” Spencer mumbled.

“I’m so close, finish the poem.” You said, stumbling to stand once again.

“The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me-- Yes!--that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we-- Of many far wiser than we-- And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:”

It felt like ages, clutching the bottle of water close to your heart, as you attempted to follow his voice.

His voice grew closer and you found yourself getting giddy at the thought of a small win, but when Spencer spoke the next verse you could hear his voice crack. You were unsure if it was caused by him holding back tears or because he was thirsty, you listened to either way.

“For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling--my darling--my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea.”

Soon enough you could even hear his breath and his body shift against the floor. You practically dove into his arms as he placed his, apparently unbound, hands onto your cheek. “Spencer!” You cried, instinctively pressing a loving kiss to his lips. “Do you know where we are?”

“I don’t know.” He confessed. “I think we’re underground - I keep hearing footsteps above us. One one set, I’m pretty sure it’s Ian.”

“How’s your head. I remember waking up for a bit - you had a huge bump on your forehead.” You said, trying to picture his face in the dark.

Blinded by the dark, you fumbled to place your bound hands on Spencer’s face, attempting to feel at his forehead for a bump. You knew for sure you had found it when he jumped back. “It’s still sore - I woke up when he was driving us here and tried to fight back but he overpowered me.” He said you felt his hand grasp your forearm as you brought your bound hands to rest on his shoulder.

“Are your hands untied?” You asked, moving your hands to blindly feel at his wrists.

“He never tied them,” Spencer admitted, “he’s not threatened by me..but apparently he is of you. I can try to untie them.”

Spencer’s hands fumbled around your wrist, but you stopped him. “Don’t - I have an idea.”

“What do you..” Spencer spoke when suddenly you were blinded by a bright light.

Tag List:  @cat-whiskers-and-headphones,  @skeletoresinthebasement@iknowrocknroll567 @mysticalavengers@skatergirl765@demongodess @whovian1077 @whyamishippingcountries

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

The Final Problem (Pt. 1)

Be a Soldier

Fandom: BBC Sherlock

Character Ship: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Word Count: 2515

Description: What happens when someone, unknown to Eurus or Mycroft, joins the game.

Warnings: Spoiler, the usual goings-on of the show.

Authors Note: Hey guys!! I’m back!!! It’s been insane, but I’m back. I’m going to be posting Shattered Memories this weekend and then Siren Song after that. Once I’m all caught up I have a surprise for you!!

**The dialogue that is from the show was taken from here xx** 

You met Sherlock when he stumbled into your families old bookstore, that you now own. He was in a high, muttering about some convoluted case that needed the oldest book in your store. When he found out you knew quite a bit about the subject he enlisted your help. Then one case turned into another and another and once Rosie was born you join in every case, quickly becoming friends with John as well.

Once you became a regular a car was sent for you from Mycroft. He found you to be quite... unordinary. Your love for anything and everything old and weird finally gave him someone to talk to about his knowledge on history and whether it actually happened or not. You became a regular at the Diogenes Club, the only female allowed on its premises.

You weren't supposed to be here - you just tagged along because you were curious about the Holmes sister and the building known as Sherrinford. You had wormed your way into the Holmes' lives and with that came the dangers. They tried desperately to keep you hidden and it had worked until now, being dragged into Eurus' little game. You wandered around the room, staring at the coffin lid. John broke the silence. “So, it’s for somebody who loves somebody.”

For a moment you glanced over at Sherlock - your love. As far as you knew nobody had caught on to your feelings but with the recent ordeal with Eurus, you didn’t know how much longer you could hide things. “It’s for somebody who loves Sherlock.” Mycroft stepped up. “This is all about you. Everything here.” You watched as Sherlock approached the coffin, running his hands along the faux silk lining. “So who loves you? I’m assuming it’s not a long list.” He joked.

“Irene Adler?” John suggested and another piece of your heart broke off and fell into your stomach, creating an awful feeling in that area.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Look at the coffin. Unmarried, practical about death, alone.” Sherlock huffed, in deep thought. It hurt thinking Sherlock couldn’t think of anyone that loved him.

“Sherlock..” You murmured, just quiet enough so they don’t hear you, but when you glance over at the monitor and saw Eurus. Though you couldn’t be sure, it seemed as though she was watching you curiously.

Suddenly the thought filled silence was interrupted with Johns realization. “Molly.”

“Molly Hooper,” Sherlock confirmed with a whisper.

“She’s perfectly safe,” Eurus confirmed, “for the moment.” A sickening smile crept onto her features just as Molly’s apartment appeared on the screen.

You could remember all the late night, wine filled, Netflix binging, Sherlock obsessing sleepovers. Those nights you turned into boy-crazed, teenaged girls - crying over cliche chick flicks as you spilled red wine all over your pajamas without care. So, when live-feed of her apartment appeared onto the screen and small screeched escaped your throat. “Leave her out of this.” You cried.

“This one was actually Moriarty’s idea - we had a lot of ideas and had to narrow it down but this one…. Was just too good.” Eurus smiled. “Anyway… Her flat is rigged to explode in approximately three minutes.” You gasped, tears streaming down your face. Mycroft wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his suit. “Unless I hear the release code from her lips. I’m calling her on your phone, Sherlock. Make her say it.”

“Say what?” You asked, looking back to the screen.

“Isn’t obvious?” Eurus said, over the video of Molly in her little kitchen.

“No,” John informed.

“Yes.” Sherlock interrupted. Then you, Mycroft, and John followed Sherlock’s gaze over to the coffin. In the center of the coffin, where everyone’s eyes were immediately focused, was a brass plate that read ‘I love you’.

Your heart dropped. You knew Sherlock didn’t feel that way towards Molly, you weren’t sure if he truly loved anyone in a romantic way, but you knew Molly did. She was infatuated with him, no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t move on from him. Once this was over and she found out the truth Molly would be destroyed.

“Oh, one important restriction: you’re not allowed to mention in any way at all that her life is in danger. You may not – at any point – suggest that there is any form of crisis. If you do, I will end this session and her life. Are we clear?”

You watched Sherlock nod as the speed dial tone sounded through the small room with Moriarty’s voice behind it chanting an obnoxious tick tock. Then the phone starts ringing but from the image on the screen, it seems Molly isn’t going to answer it. “C’mon Molly.” You begged. “Please answer the phone.”

Soon the others joined in, hoping - nearly praying that she would pick up. “What is she doing?” Sherlock asked.

“She’s making tea.” Mycroft retorted, still holding you to his side. You seemed to be one of the only ones able to bring emotions out in the Holmes family. Apparently not Eurus though.

“Yes,” Sherlock sneered, “but why isn’t she answering her phone?”

“You never answer your phone.” You say.

“Yes, but it’s me calling.” He said, clearly hurt.

Suddenly you heard Molly’s voice and for a moment you thought she had answered, but it was only her voicemail. You reached her voicemail once before and remember the heart-wrenching pain that was hidden behind the greeting.

Your eyes focused on Sherlock, watching him talk when suddenly you heard a voice in your ear. “(Y/N)..” Eurus’ sing-song tone startled you. Quickly you looked around, from Sherlock, then John, and up at Mycroft you held you a little less tightly. They hadn’t seemed to notice.  “Tell them you’re hearing me and I’ll set off the explosion anyway.”

You nodded quickly. “Don’t say anything, just listen. I understand you came into my brother's lives after Moriarty died and Mycroft was able to keep you hidden from me - from everyone. That means you must be important to them and I can see you are quite in love with Sherlock. I don’t know how you got them in that little trance of your’s, but I will end it. You are the final game, (Y/N). I will break this bond.”

You felt a shiver crawl up your spine and Mycroft had noticed your daze. He bumped your shoulder, bringing you back to the present. Your eyes caught the screen: 00:41

You felt like screaming. “For the love of god, Molly! SAY IT!” but you couldn’t, you knew it would make things worse. She had answered but wasn’t saying anything.

“Say it like you mean it,” Molly asked the bitter resentment in her voice now gone and filled with a hopelessly soft love.

Suddenly Molly’s voice is paused and you here Eurus, as did the others. “Final thirty seconds.” She announced proudly.

You see Sherlock visibly shake, eyes close as he looked towards his feet. He stuttered for a moment, forcing the words out. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He repeated, much softer this time - breaking your heart.

But Molly didn’t say anything, on the screen she just fumbled with her phone and for a moment the four of you thought she would hang up. “Molly, please.” Sherlock all but begged. The countdown reads 00:09 and the tension could be cut with a knife. John steps towards you and Mycroft, trying to see the screen better.

“I love you.” It comes from nowhere, just under a whisper but it was there and at 00:02 the timer had stopped and your contact with the outside world was cut. Mycroft releases you, stepping towards his brother.

“Sherlock, however hard that was-”

“Eurus, I won. I won.” He announced loudly, though Eurus stayed silent. “Come on, play fair. The girl on the plane: I need to talk to her. I won. I saved Molly Hooper!”

“Sherlock..” You walking up to him and putting your hand on his shoulder. He shrugged you away, focusing on the screen.

You hear the wretched woman groan then suddenly pop up onto the screen. “Saved her? From what? Oh, do be sensible. There were no explosives in her little house. Why would I be so clumsy? You didn’t win. You lost.” She chuckled. “Look what you did to her. Look what you did to yourself.”

Sherlock turned around, facing you, John, and Mycroft. He was drained, seeming as though he had aged 10 years. You almost screamed when Eurus spoke up again. “All those complicated little emotions. I lost count. Emotional context, Sherlock. It destroys you every time.”

“Eurus, that enough.” You demand.

“Hush, (Y/N).” She sighed. “Now, please, pull yourself together. I need you at peak efficiency. The next one isn’t going to be so easy.” The door behind you opens and the lights seem brighter than that room. She was obviously ‘trying to set the mood’. “In your own time.”

You go to enter the room when you see Sherlock pick up the coffin lid, gently placing it on the coffin. “No.” He whispers. Then he screams, pounding and beating the box into measly little planks of wood.

You try to pull him away, whispering kind, gentle words to him but Mycroft told you to stop - that’s how Sherlock copes. You gave in, stalking into the next room, which was empty. You nearly fell onto the wall next to the entrance, sliding you back down the surface. When John sat down next to you, draping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you into him, you let the tears fly, sobs escaping your throat.

Once your tears had stopped, Sherlock's rage had been contained, Mycroft was able to become stoic again, and John had just calmed in general John firmly walked back into the other room. You stood once again, following behind the blogger as he scooped Sherlock’s pistol off of the ground. “Look, I know this is difficult and I know you’re being tortured, but you have got to keep it together,” John told his friend.

Sherlock didn’t move, just sighed before you interrupted him. “This isn't torturing, John; this is vivisection. Like the experiments, Sherlock does on those rats, though it seems the roles have been switched.”

The boys nodded, Sherlock looking up and resting the crown have his head on the wall behind him. For a moment you think he has escaped to his mind palace but then he opens his eyes, a whole new determination in his soul. “Soldiers?” He asked, looking to John. To which John repeats in confirmation.

With that Sherlock stood, leading the four of you into the next room. You attempted to ignore the annoying tick-tocking of Moriarty asking for your ‘tickets’, though you wondered if he was really asking for your lives. At least he was being polite about it. You tried to focus on the next morally damning task in the room.

This time there’s no corridor and the doorway leads directly into another grey-walled room. The lights in both rooms turn white again. Sherlock’s eyes flick around the new room. Again there’s no window and each of the four walls has a screen against it – although these are on stands – currently showing pouring water. There is nothing else in the room. The floor is mostly gray apart from a large white panel in the center. “Hey, sis?” Sherlock called out. “Don’t mean to complain but this one’s empty. What happened? Did you run out of ideas?”

Suddenly Eurus was on screen again, her eyes seemingly trained on Sherlock. “It’s not empty, Sherlock. You’ve still got the gun, haven’t you?” You could see the gun twitch in Sherlock’s grasp. “I told you you’d need it because only two can play the next game. Just three of you go on from here; your choice. It’s make-your-mind-up time. Who is most important?”

The three men looked at each other, seemingly forgetting about you. “It’s an elimination round. Who do you care most for? Family or friend?”

Moriarty and the red light are back with the ticking - this time louder and faster, nearly driving you mad. “Eurus, enough!” Mycroft yelled.

“Not yet, I think. But nearly. Remember, there’s a plane in the sky, and it’s not going to land.” Eurus reminded.

Once again the men looked towards each other, Mycroft taking a step closer. “Well?” He urged.

“Well, what?” Sherlock questioned feveredly.

The older brother scoffed, “We're not actually discussing this, are we?” He turned towards John. “I’m sorry, Doctor Watson. You’re a fine man in many respects. Make your goodbyes and shoot him.” Turning back to Sherlock, much to your confusion, Mycroft raised his voice causing you to leap back, “Shoot him!”

“What?!” John gasped, stepping closer to Sherlock, hands up in defense.

“Shoot Doctor Watson. There’s no question who has to continue from here. It’s us; you and me. Whatever lies ahead requires brainpower, Sherlock, not sentiment. Don’t prolong his agony; shoot him.” Mycroft said casually, but that’s when you figured out what he was doing, but you chose to stay silent for a few moments longer.

“Do I get a say in this?” John asked, his voice rising at the end.

“Today, we are soldiers. Soldiers die for their country. I regret, Doctor Watson, that privilege is now yours.”

John whispered a quiet curse as he came to agree with Mycroft, quite over this game. “Oh, hush, Mycroft. I know what you’re doing.” You announced, stepping beside him looking around at your three boys. Mycroft played dumb. “You’re trying to piss off Sherlock so he’ll shoot you and not John - knowing he could never rationally choose, he’d need a split, emotionally fueled, decision. “You say we’re soldiers today, so let me do something for this country.

“(Y/N), stay out of this - you’re an innocent. You are getting out of this.”

“Exactly, I’m nothing.” You say, turning to Sherlock. “Mycroft practically runs this country. You, Sherlock, saves this country, and John fought for this country. What do I do?”

“(Y/N), please,” Sherlock begged.

“Don’t interrupt me, Sherlock. All I do is own a bookstore. My dream has always been to do something great for our country. Let me do that.” You said, stepping inches away from Sherlock. You held onto the barrel of the gun, which was still in Sherlock’s hand, lifting it from his side and resting it on your forehead. You put your thumb over Sherlock’s finger that rested on the trigger, barely touching it. Then you put the slightest bit of pressure and watched Sherlock’s eyes widen. “Let me be a soldier.”

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

Shy

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Character Ship: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 810

Request: “I wanted to say that I really love your Tumblr! And if you can make a story that the reader caresses Reid's hair and he moans and she thinks super cute and kisses him but he is very shy and she thinks Reid did not like it and he kisses her back to prove her Is wrong” from anon

Warnings: Has not been proofread.

As the SUV carrying you, JJ, Hotch, Derek, and Emily pulled up to the scene you nearly flew out of the vehicle. Spencer was a guest speaker at a conference about something or another and one of the attendees were targeted. She was held at gunpoint and Spencer, being the man he is, tried to talk him off before the police got there. Instead, the gunman turned his aggressions towards Spencer, shooting him in the arm.

When you pulled up you saw him sitting in the back of an ambulance, a paramedic bandaging his wound. You thanked God it wasn’t worse, Spencer looked aware, almost as if it were a simple scratch. You thrusted the door open, running towards Spencer, nearly tackling him onto the stretcher.

He winced at the sudden movement as you clambered to remove the pain. “You scared me half to death! Say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry?” Spencer said, a small laugh bubbling up as you plopped down next to him, on the side of his good arm.

“Good.” You laughed, looking for the rest of the team who slowly approached, laughing at the actions that had just taken place. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m ok. It went through and through, missed the major arteries. I’ll be ok, I can move my arm just fine. EMT’s say I can go home now and just check up with my doctor in a few days.”

“That’s good,” Hotch said, as the team made it to the ambulance.

There was hugs, questions, and encouraging words shot his way and soon the scene was cleared. The suspect was arrested, carrying an even worse wound from the police. The team headed home for the night, everyone given the next day off, but you stuck around with Spencer, offering to drive him home then taking a cab to your own place. As you got into his car, him in the passenger side, you looked over at him. “You sure you’re ok?”

“I’m sure.” He reassured, turning to face you. You smiled at the way his hair fell over his eyes without him really caring.

You gently reached over, running your fingers through his hair, brushing it off to the side. Much to your surprise, Spencer leaned into your sweet touch, a meek sound barely passing his lips. You let your hand linger as Spencer snapped his eyes open, clearly embarrassed from losing his composure. His face was red and, no doubt, yours was too.

Spencer could’ve died today and that scared the hell out of you, so you threw caution to the wind and softly kissed him. You poured your whole being into that kiss but he didn’t kiss you back. He was awkward and stiff in his movements as he pulled away from you. The silence was painful as you decided to drive away and head to Spencer’s apartment.

You teared up a bit as you drove down the street, you felt stupid. You spent so much time with him and thought there was a connection between the two of you but any hope of that was just shattered.

Pulling up to his apartment you stepped out, letting him get out on his own. “Do you need any help up?” You asked, looking down at your feet.

“Uh,” Spencer stumbled for a second, “could you help me bring up my go bag?” You quickly nodded, scooping up the bag and proceeded to scale the far too many flights of steps to the apartment.

Half way up you were already exhausted, only three flights in. The mix of quiet crying, carrying a heavy go bag, and attempting to sprint up the steps forced your breathing to be uneven and short. So, as much as you didn’t want to be seen by Spencer right now you forced yourself to take a quick break, allowing Spencer to catch up.

He looked at you for a moment, immediately catching on to your feelings. “Oh, (Y/N). I thought you kissed me out of petty and I was too shy to reciprocate.” He says, rambling just a bit before finally placing his lips on yours.

This kiss was fevered with Spencer wanting you to feel every ounce of feeling he had towards you. You dropped the go back to wrap your arms around his neck as he placed his hand on the small of your back, the other cupping where your jaw meets your neck, just under your ear. Silently, he beckoned you closer, from his crotch to his chest glued to you. You attempted to pull away, in order to climb the last of the stairs, but as you did his lips followed suit, only to be separated when your bum collided with a stair below you.

“It seems I have fallen for you, Dr. Reid.” You giggled.

“It seems so.” He responded with a wholesome laugh.

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

Siren Song (Part 1)

Fandom: Lucifer(Fox)

Character Ship: Lucifer x Reader

Word Count: 1262

Request: “ HEY! I saw your post and wanna request smthn. Could you do a Lucifer Morningstar x reader where she's bisexual and when Luci first meets her he gets a weird sense that something isnt particularly human about her and after being drawn in by her charm and personality (not even noticing that they never have sex and he doesnt even miss it bc hes with her), he finds out that his initial suspicion is right and she's a mythical creature-siren, werewolf, etc, your choice. Thanks lovely! (And plz tag me)” from @the-fastest-mutant-sith

You jumped at every sound that dared cross your path as you walked down the sidewalk in LA, causing odd stares and whispers to be shot your way. The big city scared you to no end but you could not live in the small city in which you had previously called home for the hunters have found you and you needed to run.

You were a siren - the last of your kind. Your species have been hunted down to near extinction for centuries in order to possess the beautiful, iridescent scales in which you harbored whenever at sea. The killing of sirens began to become controversial and trade involving the scales dropped, so tales were invented of the sirens using their enchanting voices for drawing sailors and then killing them. This gave the killing of sirens a purpose and thus, the slaughter continued until there were only you and your sister.

Soon sirens were all but forgotten through the years and you began to think your torment was over but then you were discovered by scientists. At the time it was you, your sister, and a few lone sirens, who had since moved to land with the creation of motorized boat; your fin getting caught in the motor and slicing you open.

Ever since scientists discovered your existence you had been on the run. Your sister thought you would be safer in the deep sea again and just a few weeks into being back at sea your sister was captured in a fishing net, it wrapping around her neck. You fled back to land, the sea reminding you of her. Even though you refused to join the sea you still kept it in close proximity, your apartment looking over the Californian beach.

It was nearing nightfall as you head back to your small apartment - your shift as a secretary at a small law firm completed for the day. As you had to turn down an ally way, you held your canister of pepper spray tightly in your hand, a chunky ring with two sharp kitten ear - like triangles sticking out the top. You were prepared for anything that would want to do you harm. You thought you were prepared until you felt a hand rip the pepper spray from your grasp, another hand gripping your wrist, preventing you from punching with the ring.

You heard the pepper spray being tossed behind you, the hand that tore away the canister now covered your mouth. You tried to scream out, attempting to bit at the being's hand. A deep voice whispered in your ear. “Can’t enchant me if you can’t sing, you filthy siren.”

You fought harder, unsure if he was a hunter. He felt at your ring, pulling it off and tossing it away. He spun you around in his arms, promptly throwing onto the ground. You screamed, turning onto your back, looking up at the man. It was too dark to see his face but you could tell he was decently tall, beefy, and surely strong. “My family have hunted your kind for years.” He growled, stepping towards you as you attempted to scoot away from him, your hand smashing a shattered piece of glass. You screamed out, clutching your wrist as an iridescent white liquid spilled out from the wound, the blood of a siren. The blood of a siren wouldn’t last long, being on land would turn your blood back to a crimson red. “They thought you were all gone. They said you were extinct, but I knew they were wrong, there had to be more of you. Five Oceans, seven seas and countless lakes and coves to hide in… I knew there were more of you!!” The man nearly screamed, pulling a hunting knife out of his pocket, pointing it at you.

“There’s only me left!” You cried, trying to crawl away from him.

“Lies!” He called. “Where are all you hiding?” He reached down, grabbing your ankle and preventing you from moving away.

“You hunted us down to nothing!” You whispered, trying to kick away his hand. He took the hand that carried his knife, placing it under the hem of your pant leg, ripping up the fabric, a foot or so. With the skin of your calf revealed the man, whose face you could now see - a dark, unkempt beard accompanied by blue eyes and a wicked grin. His eyes instantly found the small patch of scales that remained on your skin even when on land.

Again he took his knife, roughly scraping it against your beautiful scales, snapping them off of your skin. You screamed out, tears pouring down your cheeks as another figure appeared behind him. “What’s going on here?” The voice questioned, causing your assailant to spin around, knife out in front of him.

“Get out of here, man.” The hunter demanded. “Mind your business.”

“Let her go, man.” A deep, British voice retorted, swiftly wrapping his fingers around your assailant's throat. He immediately dropped you, just in time since he went flying back into the wall.

Of course. You heard talk among the angelic community, being an angelic creature yourself, of Lucifer's escape from hell. You knew he was in the LA area, you even knew he owned a nightclub, what you didn’t know was that nightclub was one wall of the ally.

With the threat neutralized you had time to focus on your wound and missing scales. Your calf was on fire, all evidence of scales were gone and your hand now bleeding red. You sighed in relief, your cover would not be blown. Looking down you winced at how deep the gash on your hand was, then catching Lucifer’s eyes. “Lucifer.” You breathed.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “can you stand?”

You attempted to sit up but the wound on your calf throbbed, causing you to yelp and plop back onto the floor, shaking your head at your ironic savior. He nodded to himself, rolling up his sleeves and adjusting his pant. He bent down to your level, placing his hand under the bend of your knee and above the small of your back, lifting you up. “Try not to bleed on the silk blend, dear.” He groaned, taking you in the back door of his club, missing the crowd of people and heading straight up to his penthouse.

He gently laid you on his bed, placing a pillow under your neck and your injured leg. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a phone and swiftly typed on the screen. He tossed the phone onto a stray chair. “What did he want from you?” Lucifer asked.

“I - uh- don’t know. He sounded crazy.” You lied. Lucifer gave you a doubtful glance, sitting on the bed next to you.

“Let me see.” The man asked, reaching for your hand. Gently and consciously you laid your hand on his open palm, wincing at the movement. Seeing the depth of the wound he sucked in a deep breath. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Just my leg.” You whispered, looking down at the missing layer of skin.

“What was he doing?” Lucifer asked himself just as a woman, you knew to be his right-hand man or...woman rushed in the room. She held a thick, scary blade in her hand.

“Where’s the 911?” She asked, viscously.

“Right here, Mazie.” He sighed. “I meant like an emergency kit, like gauze and bandages.”

“Oops.” Maze laughed, putting the blade onto the side table. “What’s her deal?” She groaned.

“I’m not quite sure..” Lucifer stated, eyeing you up curiously.

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

I’m very very sorry about the hold up with posts. When I said the SAT’s were postponed, turns out it was scheduled for today and tomorrow. I’ve been nothing but studying and prepping for my Drama Club performance. I’m working on the Lucifer Morningstar request to break up the Spencer request. 

Again, I’m am so sorry!! After the craziness is over I have a surprise planned so... I hope that makes up for everything.

[superqueerwritingfangirl-blog]

Imagine oneshot shot that Reid picks up in prison and the convicts make psychological pressure saying they're going to hurt their pregnant wife. And when she visits him, he asks her not to come for her safety. Spencer POV plz

I’m not up to date on the recent season, though tumblr spoils everything, no matter how hard I try. So, I won’t be doing this one, I’m sorry, but if you’d like you could send a different request and I’ll be happy to do it.