#I’m just a little salty that we don’t get more wider muscular women like we do with the guys

[teamfortresstwo]

Okay I love Megaera but yall have got to stop calling her buff . Like I support drawing her buff (boy do I support that) but like,,, she just isn’t in canon ?

[silver-wields-a-pen]

“Frost Bitten & Mistletoe Kissed” A “Guardians of Las” short

“I understand the concept,” Nyima stated, eyeing the tiny sprig of green leaves and red berries, with a cool expression. “What I don't understand is why anyone would bother.” Abaddon, Nyima and the other women were clustered around the table, sharing stories about holiday traditions. The half-bloods and Scyanatha gushed, sighed and melted when the topic turned to a tradition which stated that any two people meeting under a cluster of leaves and inedible fruit had to kiss each other. “Maybe you wouldn't be so disinterested if you happened to meet someone you were attracted to,” suggested Scyanatha. She didn't mention any names, but the Aos Si faery's smile stretched wider, as the blue in Nyima's cheeks deepened in colour. Solstice had come and gone and there was much that changed in the passed three days. The fact that one face came unbidden to Nyima's mind at Scy's subtle prodding was plenty proof of that. Still, the Aetumuh strove to keep her dignity, and pulled her shoulders back. Putting on airs, she stated, “I don't know what you're talking about.” “Pshh,” Vyxen said, laughing. “I'm going to get you a crown, because you're the Queen of Denial.” They were an unusual group of people. Nyima didn't mind the differences, but they were note-worthy. The part-humans, part-faeries, Zercey and Vyxen, were on one end of the spectrum of personalities, while she resided on the other. Scyanatha and Abaddon fell somewhere in between. “I don't think anyone believes you,” Abaddon murmured, leaning over to speak into Nyima's ear. They had positioned themself between the ice elemental and the stove to protect her from the heat. “Not even you do.” Lovely. Even the blind one can see through me. Nyima stood up, determined to hold her ground. “I really don't think it would make a difference,” she informed the rest. “I don't see the point in being kissed under mistletoe.”

They were all remarkably steadfast in who they were; Teysuht – as she sometimes went by – still saw parts of them that were the same as the day they all met in the trainee barracks. Vyxen was still wild and untamed, Zercey was still eager to meet expectations, Abaddon was still quietly contemplative, Scyanatha still the voice of life experience. And then there was her: the indomitable Ice Queen, with a warrior's spirit at her core. “There isn't really a point,” Zercey tried to make things clearer. “It's more an excuse to do it than anything. The idea is that if a person wants to kiss someone they haven't started dating yet, they will put in a little extra effort to make sure that they both end up at the right place at the right time.” “That's a rather spineless way to begin a courtship,” Nyima concluded. “It would be far simpler if they would be direct.” “Simple? Okay, yeah, sure; you're right, it would be,” she replied, rocking her head side to side. “But, it's not nearly as romantic.” “Sometimes,” Scyanatha chimed in with an air of nostalgia in her voice,  “it's when someone shows how weak or nervous they are, that we find them to be the strongest and the most brave.” “Maybe for some, but I wouldn't be so moved,” Nyima stated, her mind made up. Rising from her seat, she announced, “I am on patrol today. I expect that I will see all of you later, at some point.” Her team-mates called their farewells, and the blue-skinned woman made her way out the heavy, wooden door that barricaded the womens’ barracks from the main hallway. She stepped out onto the staircase that led up the spiral tower in the Order of Mana's Headquarters. She did think that some of them would have understood her position, being that the vast majority of them weren't from this world, either. However, it did feel at times they would conveniently forget their time there was supposed to be temporary and that some – her especially – had missions of their own to accomplish. Every passing day was like a bell ringing the death of thousands in her ears. She had to achieve the required victories necessary to win back her freedom before Ifrit, or the world she knew would be reduced to a smoldering ball of fire and ash. How many did she have left to go? In truth, Nyima had forgotten, lost track, so long ago. Each summon was a tick mark on her score card; one summon, one victory. Regardless of how she ended up trapped in this place, with it's own complications to be sure, every battle she took part in here was not going to be a step closer. She was effectively wasting her precious time in Illthdar and there was little she could do about it. It was frustrating. She was more than aware of the choices she had and the costs that came with them, so to throw herself into a weak and feeble romance on a whim, with nothing to gain except heartbreak in the end...

It was sobering, and Nyima found it difficult to let fate take the reigns. “Nyima!”

She froze in her tracks, recognising the deep voice. She braced herself because it was him, and she, with her mind in such turmoil, didn't want to see him at the moment.

“You have a quick stride,” Tundra noted as he reached her side. A fine layer of white frost draped his bare arms from the shoulders down, contrasting the black and blue of his clothing. “I almost had to run to catch up.” “Was there something you needed from me?” She disregarded his statement, face blank as she looked at him. Jingyi, better known as Tundra, was a man with a broad and muscular frame. A martial artist, with chiseled features and a square jawline. He was a cryomancer, a step below her in the ice magic hierarchy, but one with a some skill and distinction. Tundra shook his head slowly to indicate he did not. “But, we are on the same patrol today,” he reminded her.

Nyima kicked herself internally for having forgotten that detail.

“We're taking the south-east route, I see.” He wasn't an unobservant person, taking information in easily and reproducing it as necessary.

Nyima looked around, her feet had indeed led her down the path in the direction he indicated. “I chose at random,” she said. Though, she added, “We can change if you'd prefer a different route. I have no preference.” “Me, neither. We might as well just keep going, it'll take us by the cliff side and the air will be cooler there.” Had she not known of his abilities, his statement might have come off as one of reservation or concern for her, but it seemed he liked the colder weather, too. “It has been excellent weather of late,” she commented, settling on a safe topic.

Tundra chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his throat. “Seth can't stand it.” He shared his amusement. “I've threatened to put him on ice if he keeps complaining. I keep my dislike for the summer to myself, I expect nothing less of him.” “You dislike the heat, too?” She was surprised by the admission, having again assumed it would not have been the case, due to his human lineage. “I put up with it, but my abilities suffer greatly. It takes more effort to produce cold in a hot climate. I get tired more easily.” He confessed to his weaknesses easily and Nyima turned her head to regard him. “I have similar problems,” she admitted. “More so here than where I was from before.” “You must be impressive back on your own world,” he guessed. “You're quite powerful as it is.” How little did he know. Her most powerful attacks she couldn't even muster in this place. She was limited to the most basic of moves; it was like returning to a child state. “Thank you,” was all she could give in reply. The distant crash of the waves below filled the air between them as they reached the cliff-side. They sky was cloudy, with the promise of snow by the afternoon. Most humans had visible breath long before temperatures dropped to that point, but it was only just then where the wind was further cooled by the salty brine that Tundra's became visible.

“You're warm-blooded after all,” Nyima remarked, taking in his countenance. “You're surprised?” Blue eyes locked with hers. “I had begun to question the likelihood,” she confessed and he chuckled. Changing the subject, he said, “This is the coolest place in all of Illthdar during the summer. The shallow waters on the opposite coast get too warm. It's the best place to find relief during the hottest days.” “I'll be sure to remember that.” Nyima responded, wondering if he was trying to share the secret with her out of consideration or if he was just making small-talk. “The view isn't bad either,” he remarked, taking a couple of strides backwards. Holding his arms aloft, he formed a frame with his fingers and thumbs which he then peered through. “It's further improved with you in it.” The compliment was subtle and though it was far from the directness that she would have preferred, Nyima's cheeks blued noticeably in response. “We should keep going,” she stated, gathering her wits and shaking herself out of her stupor. ~*~*~ The patrol was completed in record time thanks in part to Nyima's quickened strides and Tundra's quiet pursuit. At the steps leading up to the doors of their temporary home, Tundra said at last, “I should have invited you to a sparring match.” “Beg pardon?” Nyima blinked at him. “It would have been an excellent learning experience for me,” he reasoned, concluding with a one-armed shrug. “Oh well, another time, then.” “Yes,” she agreed readily, “another time, perhaps.” For once, feeling the cold in her own voice. The bitter sting of realisation. He was interested in her for the sake of experience. The knowledge burned like cold fire in her heart. About to ascend the steps, she was caught off-guard by an additional question. “Might I ask for two more things?” “That was the first one,” she replied, turning to face him, her face blank and unreadable. “Then would it be all right by you if I gave you a kiss?” There was no awkward shifting, nor fidgeting fingers or hands. Tundra stood calm and tall with open arms in silent anticipation of her reply. “Why?” she asked, her eyes instantly drifting to the top of the doorway. No stupid plants hanging anywhere. It still left her with the question. An amused smile spread across his lips. “Because you look kissable.” Oh. “Very well.” He bounded down the steps two at a time to reach her. Sweeping one hand around her waist, he spun them around, his other cupping the curve of her cheek and jaw. Lips first brushing and then locking as they drank each other in.

~*~*~

That evening, in Jasper barracks, Tundra returned to find Inari and the rest of his friends already waiting. “Man, where have you been?” Seth looked at the clock, which said the time was nearing rustern, “Your patrol finished hours ago. What happened?” “Hmm,” Inari said as they paced around Tundra, examining him. “Something serious, I imagine.” “Not particularly,” Tundra  responded, reaching his fingers into his bracer. “Though I was right.” “About what?” challenged Date. “I didn't need this after all.” He produced a sprig of mistletoe hidden there and flicked it onto the table.

Written by @illthdar

[demonhuntersspn]

Rise of Phoenix

Part 2 

Part 2 of SL Started for Ash’s Birthday challenge. 

Part 1

Plot: Dean and Nikki have found themselves in another dimension. One where the dead walk. They were ’rescued’ by Negan and the Saviors. Negan seems to have taken a special interest in Nikki. 

Warnings: Negan like language, smut 

@slightlysoftgrunge @negans-network @negans-girl @scruffy-negan @the-negan-fic-club

_______ “Dad?” Dean’s eyes reflected all the pain and anguish he’d suffered over the years.  The loss of most of those he called family. His eyes twinkled with a glimmer of hope, that he’d found something he had lost along the way. But that hope faded as Negan’s chuckle filled the room.

“I’ve never been called /Dad/ before,” he laughed then cuts his eyes in my direction, “had a hot chick call me Daddy but that’s a whole different thing.” Negan’s voice shifted from playful to commanding again. “Have a fucking seat, Dean and tell me about this weird shit you’ve graciously donated.”

“This weird shit,” I cringe as Dean drags a chair from the table and takes a seat, “will save your fucking life.”

I shake my head. I never understood the constant pissing match men seemed to have with each other. Whether they played with blocks or cars or women, they always seemed to be posturing.

“Oh fucking really?” Negan picks up a book with an inverted star on the cover. “Do the walkers fall over dead of fucking boredom?”

“Walker's?” My voice soft in comparison to the gruff tone of the men in the room.

“Those dead fucking fuckers,” Negan responds.

“Zombies,” Dean remarks, “I hate zombies.”

“At least this time they’re not Nazi zombies,” I shudder looking from Dean back to Negan, “Thank you again for your help out there. Do you have someplace we can clean up and get our shit together? We can get out of your hair and back where we belong.”

“I believe you have us mistaken,” handlebar chimes in, “you belong to Negan now. Your choice, here in our humble abode /or/ out there on the fence as one of the undead pricks.”

Dean’s jaw clenches and I shake my head mouthing ‘Don’t.’

“Simon, don’t be an entire fucking asshole. Show Dean to his room,” a shit eating grin spreads across Negan’s face as he stands, hovering over me, “And I’ll show you to yours.”

_____________________

“Dean?” I slump down against the wall. Negan called this an apartment for his distinguished guests. I couldn’t quite place my finger on the man. Was he an overbearing ass or charming? A little of both would be my guess. I should be grateful. I’ll have to mark that down in the shit I should do later.  This room still felt like a cell. The door was guarded by a guy that reminded me more of Aaron’s Golem than a person.

“You ok, Nikki?” Dean responded through the wall, “they got me locked in here.”

“I’ll be fine,” I try to smile between my words, though every part of me wanted to cry. I didn’t have time to cry. Or the energy. “Did our host extend you a dinner invitation too?”

“Fuck no,” he said, “you gotta distract him so we can get the hell out of here before the portal closes.”

“Distract him? How do you expect me to distract him?”

I turn

“I saw how the dude was looking at you. So be a girl… a woman. Shit, you know what I mean, /distract/ him,” he responds.

“I can try,” I inch up from the floor, “Dean… I’m sorry.”

“I know, maybe I just thought it was him. Or wanted it to be him.” The sadness in Dean’s voice brought a tear to my eye.

“Don’t do anything stupid, OK? I’ll figure a way outta here,” I rest my hand on our adjacent wall, “Soon.”

_____________________

I pinch my cheeks and glance at my reflection in the mirror. If I knew I would have to seduce a psychopath I would have stuffed some makeup in my pack before hopping through a portal. Planning even for a normal date was never my forte anyway. I reach down popping open an extra button in my shirt before adjusting my boobs just in time to hear a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear as the door swings open. Negan struts through the door, still clad in the leather jacket but wearing a crisp white shirt underneath. He had a swagger this man. Flirting with him wouldn’t be too difficult. I breathe in. Although /only/ flirting with the man, that was considerably more difficult as he inches closer.

“Well look at you,” he fixes his eyes on the cleavage poking up from the top of my shirt, “/those/ look exceptionally nice.”

“Well thank you,” I offer him a confident smile, “Glad you like them. So I suppose Olive Garden is out of the question?” I tuck my hand in the crook of his arm.

“Sorry, doll, that particular restaurant is closed but we do have a chef here that has prepared us a fine ass fucking pasta casserole.”

“Sounds delicious. I can’t wait.”  

He tucks my hand into the crook of his arm as he leads me down the hallway, “Neither can fucking I.” We enter into what I could only assume is his bedroom. King Size bed made up on one side, big leather couch and a couple of chairs. And a table for two set up in the middle. Candles and all. Hell, it was better than most dates I’d been on in the real world.

The confident way he speaks is almost enough to make my panties damp. If I were a silly teenager, I probably would. But I was older, maybe not as wise as I should be. If I were smarter I wouldn’t be picturing Negan sprawled out naked on the table instead of the salad and pasta.

“I need to get laid,” I hadn’t realized the words were spoken aloud until his lips spread into a wide smile, his dimples set even deeper in his cheeks.

“Well that is something I certainly can help you with, sweetheart,” he leans back in his chair, “If you want that is.”

I bring a glass of water to my mouth. Thinking the proposition over. I was tired of thinking. “You know, I do want.”

“Good, I’ve been picturing that sweet ass riding my cock since I laid eyes on you,” he grins scooting out from the table patting his lap. Without another word I find myself straddling him. My hands gliding through the stubble on his face, tangling in the dark hair at the base of his head. My lips crashing against his. I gave into to just the act as I had never done before.  My hips grinding into his, needing the friction. Needing so much more.

Negan’s hands move from my hips to push up my shirt. I moan against his open mouth at the heat of his palms moving over my bare skin. And this was just the beginning. The touch, the match that lit the flame.

My long legs wrap around his waist as he effortlessly lifts me up carrying me to the bed where he drops me. I groan as our bodies separate.

“Someone is an eager fuckin’ beaver,” he smirks down at me, as he toes off his boots and tugs his shirt over his head. I couldn’t help but watch him. His chest lean and muscular. I bite my lip sitting up. “Is that a complaint?” I look up at him with a smirk of my own, my hands tugging at his warn leather belt.

“Fuck no,” his voice husky and deep, almost groaning as his pants fall to the floor at his feet.

“Looks like someone else is just as eager,” I lean forward pressing my lips to his torso, tongue tasting his salty skin. My hands moving lightly over the growing erection in his boxers.

“You fucking know it girl, da-amn,” he watches as I tug his shorts down letting the tip of his cock poke out. “You gonna make me cum already. Fu-uck.” I smile wider at his words. I could tell he liked to hear his voice. The way he spoke, the darkness of his lust blown eyes as they look down at me, all causing the heat to build in the pit of my stomach. A heat that could only be quenched by him, in this moment.

“It would be a waist if you came so quickly,” I flick my tongue over the tip of his cock oozing with precum and let out a soft moan. I lick and suck just the head of his member as my hand stroked him slowly through the soft cotton of his boxers.  His hands reach down tangling in my hair, his hips pressing into my face.

“Stop fuckin’ teasin’ and suck it,” he growled. Negan seemed to be a man that got his way. I saw the people drop to their knee when we walked into what they called the Sanctuary. I wasn’t one of those people and I wasn’t going to just do exactly what he wanted.  At least not yet.

I drop my head lower, my lips continue to tease him through his shorts. My hand inches further down massaging him. I glance up at his face, watching as he breathes hard, trying to maintain control. “Let me take care of you, big man,” I ghost my fingers up his stomach my lips following as I stand in front of him. He is easily a head and shoulders taller than me. “I can see you normally get your way,” I step up on my toes pressing my lips to his, my body pressing against him, “and don’t worry, I’ll let you have your way with me soon enough.” I suck his lower lip between my teeth.

“You /are/ a dirty girl,” he groans through his smirk.  His hands grip my hips tight so I can feel him pressing hard against my stomach.

“You could say that,” I dip my fingers under the band of his shorts. The sound he made from the skin to skin contact enough to cause my panties to moisten.  “Get on the bed for me?” It was kind of a question, but more of an order. I’d known his type before.  The alpha male. But they often came apart when I was given the opportunity to take over. And I was often rewarded when I gave the control back.

I smile up at him as I climb on the bed between his thighs. Still fully clothed. Though I could see his eyes falling on the orbs of my breasts peeking out from the top of my shirt.  “Shit,” he groans when I finally free him from the restrictive material of his shorts. And it was then I was fully able to size the man up. I lock my gaze on his face, nothing could have made me hotter than the look he gave me back as I finally wrap my lips around his thickness. I suck softly as my hand stroked long and slow. “Fuck,” he uttered, “woman shit. That’s it baby. Fuck.” I would have smiled back if I weren’t utterly enjoying the feel of his cock sliding between my lips. My fingers massage the base of his member elisiting another string of fucks and other words I couldn’t make out.  I only stopped when I could feel his cock begin to twitch in my grasp. He was close, but I wasn’t ready for him to cum yet.

“Breathe, babe,” I whisper in his ear after inching up his body, “we’ve only just started. I’d hate for it to be over already.” I nibble gently on his ear, “Touch me.”

“Bossy aren’t we?” he catches my wrists in his hands and pushes me to my back, “I wouldn’t fucking admit to anyone else how fucking hot that is.” His beard scratches the tender skin of my neck as he slowly unbuttons my top. His tongue trailing down the valley of my breasts as he gives them each a firm squeeze before popping my bra open.  Negan gives one of my nipples a tweek between his thumb and forefinger before wrapping his lips around the other. I groan shifting my body beneath him. “Uh uh, sweetheart,” he holds me down, “I’m in fucking control now.”  I nod almost regretting relinquishing it. He’d pay me back with some teasing of his own. His teeth bite lightly on my nipple. Tongue swirling soft slow circles around the hardened bud. He pops the button of my jeans open, his fingers glide over the thin silk covering my mound. “Fuck baby, you are soaked. You like sucking my dick that much?” He grinned up at me, shoving the offending material aside to slip a digit inside me.  I groan, trying to move my hips against his hand.  He pushes down on my waist harder, “It’s not as much fucking fun when you’re getting teased now is it?”

Without waiting for response he yanks my jeans down, “Well that I haven’t seen in quite a long time.” His eyes move from my bra to my matching panties. I didn’t really know exactly what he meant by it. My thoughts are too preoccupied with what he’s doing to me. How each word, each touch resonates throughout my body. And he’s barely touched me. And then he does. His fingers slide along my folds causing a ripple through me. My breaths harder as I try to keep still and seem unbothered by his touch. His arm remains draped over my stomach as he moves down, his beard tickling my inner thigh, his lips dance over my smooth skin, he groans nuzzling his nose into the soft curls between my thighs, inhaling the scent of my arousal. Negan’s tongue  flat licking my slit, “Damn that pussy is just a sweet as I thought it’d be.” I moan loud, my hips pushing unmoving against his arm. I could feel the smirk on his lips when he wraps them around my swollen clit. I throw my head back still trying unsuccessfully to remain still as he devours me like a last meal.  

He continues his assault on me until my legs begin to tremble he moves, I look down at him confused and wanting. “Breathe babe,” he mocks, inching his way back up my body, “it’s still far from fucking over.” He lines himself up against me, the tip of his cock tickling my clit causing me to whimper. A large hand grips my hip tight before he thrusts hard and deep inside me. “Fuck!” We both cry out in unison. He needed to fill me as much as I needed to have him fill me. My hands move to grip the flex of the muscles in his back while he draws back and thrusts inside me again. I look up at his eyes for permission before I move with him. “That’s fucking it, girl,” he groans pressing his lips against mine. Our tongues tangle together as he increases the pace of his thrusts. I hook my leg up high on his hip, letting him sink deeper inside me. Walls pulsing around him as each movement hits exactly the right spot. “Cum on my dick, that’s it,” he cups my chin in his hand holding my gaze to his. My pupils blown as I let go and I cry out. I don’t know if the words were even english. He pumps hard a few more times before pulling out. I glance down watching as he strokes his cock, groaning as he cums on my stomach.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed as he plops down on the bed beside me, “I fucking needed that. I haven’t cum that fucking hard in a fucking long ass fuck time.” He chuckles at me covered in his seed before grabbing a towel from his night stand to clean me off. I place my hands on his face bringing his lips to mine for another kiss. “Damn girl, you want more already?”

“I wouldn’t say no,” my fingers dance along his jaw, “But I like the way you taste.”

“Don’t worry, darlin’,” Negan presses his lips to mine again, “Get some rest. Round two is coming soon.”  I smile resting my head on his chest as we both drift off.

I’m not sure how long I was asleep. My eyes flutter open and I look at him still sleeping beside me. He looked softer somehow. Still sexy but different. I inch from the bed and slip his shirt over my head. It barely hangs over my hips. I tiptoe past the bed and into the bathroom. I shake the thoughts from my head. I couldn’t let myself get caught up in this man, this place. I’d be home soon. And Dean was still locked up where ever in the place he was.

I wash my hands and brush my hair from my face. I could enjoy it at least for a little while longer. I step from the bathroom and catch a glimpse of his wallet lying on the dresser. I flip it open, my eyes widen in surprise.