home-underground

Dwarves out of the Mountains

A long-term friend of mine had been lamenting that while there seems to be a lot of push to diversify elves and ‘get them out of the forest’ but everybody seems content to leave the dwarves in their mountains. In my campaign world I do have dwarves still in the mountains, but I have a particular reason.

Dwarves, as a fantasy or rpg race typically have the following traits:

  • Short, stocky or round with a low center of gravity
  • Facial hair and plenty of it, sometimes on females as well
  • The Axe. If there’s no axe, there will be a hammer
  • Smiths, craftsmen and great builders
  • Beer, mead, ale… it’s all good as long as it’s not wine
  • Underground. Not just a little hole, but deep underground.

That’s a phenotype you can pick up and move anywhere, provided you can grow something you can then ferment and make into booze. So let’s see how they might fit in different environments.

  • Desert. If you’re going to live in the desert you have to worry about water and maintaining your body temperature, as it can get both unreasonably hot and cold in the desert, often switching from one extreme to another from day to night. Lots of animals have figured out that the temperature is much more stable underground and burrow, and the trees that survive find the water table. There are two very good reasons to build your home underground, and from there you expand your home into a city with networks etc. You can ferment the cacti. Darkvision would be handy as you’re not going to come up in the day if you can avoid it. I imagine they’d build large ventilation columns, a bit like termite mounds, reaching above the dunes, the only evidence of the city below.
  • Sea edge. I’m thinking cliffs, harsh and windswept towering above the churning waters. The windchill can be lethal, and the saltwater of the ocean is all but undrinkable without specialized processing. (Maybe they have that technology, maybe salt is a major export. Everybody needs salt before refrigeration.) Not much lives on sea cliffs aside from some agile birds that nest there, far out of reach of predators. Building your fortress into the side of the sea cliffs is a very defensible position, and there’s a huge amount of energy to be potentially harnessed in the wind and waves. Branching out into ships is difficult from cliffs, it may be easier to use underwater channels, if such a clever dwarf could devise a vessel to travel entirely beneath the waves. The lower tunnels of an sea cliff fortress are prone to flooding, so these dwarves are likely to be better at balancing and swimming than their inland brethren.
  • Ice. Where do you expect to find a phenotype that has a reduced body surface area to volume ratio (approaching spherical), comfortable insulating body fat and extra hair? Somewhere very cold. You can dig down into solid ice, which will be relatively more comfortable out of the wind chill, but if you build up with the excavated ice it will likely end up with snow accumulating on at least one side, eventually looking like a hill. Fireballs obviously strongly discouraged, and layered furs prefered over open flame for heat to preserve structural integrity.
  • Old forest. Nobody ever said anything about getting the dwarves out of the forest. I don’t mean your standard, idyllic, meadow filled forest. I mean the dark, overgrown, ancient, creaking forest with trees so old, massive and twisted that you can’t be certain they don’t have faces. The sort of forest where you can barely see the sky, and the hairs stand up on the back of your neck for no clear reason, but you can’t help but trust your instinct that something, somewhere is patiently waiting to eat you. Here it’s probably much safer underground, where you can at least establish a defensible position. I imagine large halls, edged with the passive roots of the still living trees, and probably a significant mushroom proportion in the diet. Elves above may not even know they’re there.

Really they can make themselves at home anywhere you need a defensible position. Break some stereotypes, throw some dwarves around.

(But you cannot toss them)

Hell on Earth: Where I Belong (Part 6)

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester 

Length: 1205+ words

TW: Mentions of Torture, Rape, Child Abuse, Child Soldiers, Etc.

A/N: And thus concludes this series! I had a lot more Sam x Reader, but most of that was cut to the “sequel” that may or may not even happen. I hope you guys enjoyed this series as much as I love writing it! It was a pretty cliche trope, but I had to write this down bc it was taking too much space in my brain!

Catch up on the Hell on Earth Series HERE


“Wh-What?” You managed to stutter your confusion. Before you could even process what he was saying, there was a deafening silence as if your ears were clogged. Your heart was beating rapidly, and you found yourself closed in within the four walls. “I-I can-can’t br-breath!”

“Hey, hey, sweetheart,” Dean quickly whispered soothingly, bringing you into his arms. He crossed his legs, bringing you to his lap. He leaned your head on his shoulder, rubbing your back. “It’s okay. Listen to my heartbeat. I’m here. You’re safe.”

You listened to the thumping of his heartbeat, following the movement of his chest as he inhaled and exhaled. Finally, you calmed down. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, wiping away the tears.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Sam said quickly, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“What did you find?” Dean asked. He and Sam had talked about her family more than once when she had first came into their lives. They wanted her to live as normal as possible, but they couldn’t find any information on her family.

You swallowed thickly, not knowing the answer you were going to get.

“They’re alive.”

Your eyes widened. “Wh- What?”

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. They assumed they were dead because if they were alive there would’ve been trails of your disappearance- a police case file, a newspaper article, anything, but they had found nothing.

“James, and Martha faked your death to be of a natural cause, a school bus that crashed while crossing a bridge, drowning most of the kids. It was horrible, some of the bodies were never recovered, yours included. The news article wasn’t very descriptive, seeing as the mayor’s son was also on that bus. Their family got more attention from the news while other families grieved silently.”

“I-I don’t understand… I was kidnapped at a park. I’m sure I was.”

Sam shook his head. “The field trip you were on was to a national park, but you were on that bus when it crashed.”

“They might have possessed you when you were at the park,” Dean suggested.

Sam nodded, signalling that was the conclusion he came up with as well. “And you were so young when it happened.” 

“And my parents?”

“Right. The only reason it came up was because,” Sam paused, clearing his throat, “you have a little sister.”

Keep reading

Believe It or Not. Part 19/?

*song suggestion: Friends by Chase Atlantic*

(Based off 2x07 “Restraint”)

“If Jackson doesn’t know what he’s doing, then he probably doesn’t know that someone’s controlling him.” Allison suggested as they all stood together. Y/n returning to her friends after her surprise visit from Isaac. She was trying to pay attention but her mind was elsewhere.

“Or he doesn’t remember.” Scott sighed.

Stiles watched as Y/n stared down at her feet, shifting from one to the other every few seconds. His brows furrowed in confusion to her odd behavior. I mean sure, they were dealing with a lot but she was definitely acting strange right now. And he noticed.

“What if it’s the same kind of thing that happened with Lydia when she took off from the hospital?” Y/n asked without shifting her gaze from the ground.

“A fugue state?”

“He’d have to forget everything.” Scott pointed out, “The murder-”

“Getting rid of the blood.” Y/n finished for him, finally looking up and meeting Scott’s eyes as the seriousness of the situation hit all of them once again.

“Yeah, he had help with one thing though- the video. And someone else helped him forget that.” Stiles added.

“Whoever is controlling him.”

Allison shifted uncomfortably, “Are you sure Jackson has no idea about any of this?”

“He thinks he’s still becoming a werewolf and that being with Lydia somehow delayed the whole thing.”

“So do we try to convince him he’s not?” The brunette gestured with her hands to express her frustration.

“If it helps us find out who’s controlling him, then yeah.” Scott announced to all of them.

“Do you think he’ll talk to us after what we did?” Allison asked, her tone unsure.

“ Yeah, it’s us. He’ll talk to us right?” No one answered the unusually lanky boy.

“ You will not go within 50 feet of Jackson Whittemore. You will not speak to him. You will not approach him. You will not assault or harass him physically or psychologically.” The sheriff’s obviously disappointed voice read off a piece of paper to the set of twins and his own son sitting uncomfortably at the table in the interrogation room.

Neither one of them looked at each other, hell Y/n was terrified to breathe with the intensity of the glare they were receiving from Jackson’s father.

“What about School?” Stiles inevitably asked.

“You can attend classes while attempting to maintain a 50- foot distance.” The sheriff sighed.

“Bu - okay, what if we both have to use the bathroom at the same time and there’s only two stalls available and they’re only right next to each other?”

Y/n couldn’t have rolled her eyes harder as she let her elbow slam against the surface of the table and dropped her head into the palms of her hand. He can’t be serious? God this boy would be the death of her.

“I’ll just hold it.” He retreated lower into his chair as he felt the glare of his own father and Mr. Whittemore.

“Move! It’s not just this. Although, a restraining order is a new low that I didn’t think that you would reach quite this soon. It’s everything on top of it. The completely bizarre behavior, the late nights coming home, having to beg Mr. Harris for you to make up that chemistry test that you missed.”

Y/n and Scott’s mother ranted as she fast-walked down the hall and they tried to keep up until she stopped and turned around to face both of them.

“I missed a chemistry test?” Scott whispered, extremely confused.

“Really, Scott?” She sighed, switching her gaze to her daughter, “And you, what is going on? You guys I can’t keep doing this. I have to ground you. I am grounding you. You’re grounded.” She seemed to have started having the conversation with herself, as if she needed to convince her and not them.

“What about work?”

“Fine- other than work. And no tv.”

“My tv’s broken.” Scott winced.

“Then no computer!” She pointed at Y/n.

“I need the computer for school.” She smiles innocently.

“Then no, uh-” Melissa glanced behind them, “no Stiles!” She decided loudly. Knowing that grounding her twins from Stiles would strike a nerve in both of them.

“What- no Stiles-”

“No Stiles!” She cut him off as he approached from behind, immediately retreating backwards as Melissa yelled. Not even Peter was this scary.

“And no more car privileges. Give me your keys!” Scott handed her the keys right away.

They both watched as she tried to unravel them, but her hands were shaking.

“Mom- you want me to-”

“No.” She rejected Scott.

Y/n knew she needed to step forward, “Mom.” She whispered as she grasped Melissa’s hands.

“What is going on with you? Is this about your father?”

Y/n didn’t know what to say, the question was unexpected, to put it lightly. She just stared at her mom, unsure of what movement to make next.

“We’ll talk about this at home.” Melissa’s eyes had changed from infuriated to concerned and confused.

“So why do we need their help?” Isaac asked as he watched Derek pace around their underground home.

“Because it’s harder to kill then I thought and I still don’t know who it is.”

“And they do?”

“They might,” Derek sighed, “ which is why I need one of you to get on their good side.”

“ Well Isaac’s already got that covered.” Erica smirked.

“Shut up Erica.” Isaac glared at her as Derek’s movements ceased and he turned to look at his beta.

“No, what does she mean?”

Isaac’s jaw clenched as Erica answered, “his anchor is the McCall twin.” she laughed, “he even went to visit her tonight, make sure she was okay after her little outburst.”

“When were you going to tell me this?” Derek left his eyes glued on Isaac.

“Never, if you want me to use her for your benefit.” Isaac shot back.

“Fine. Erica, it’s up to you.

“Hm. Scott or Stiles?” She phrased playfully.

“Either.”

Y/n stood in a random section of the library as they waited for Scott and Stiles to meet them, since it was the only place they could find to avoid video cameras.

“It’s everything Lydia can translate. And trust me, she was very confused.” Allison handed Scott a tablet through the spaces in the books once they had arrived.

“Yeah, what’d you tell her?” Scott asked as he handed the tablet to Stiles.

“That we were apart of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures.”

“I am apart of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures.” Stiles replied offended.

“O- oh, great.” Y/n nodded her head, as she glanced at Allison. Both not trying to laugh. Which he noticed.

“Okay, does it say how to find out who’s controlling him?” Scott diverted from the subject.

“Not really. But Stiles was right about the murders.” Y/n pointed out.

“Yes!” He claimed excitedly, he reached through the books and without even really thinking about it he and Y/n high-fived before returning to the conversation.

“It called the Kanima a weapon of vengeance,” Allison took over, “There’s a story in there about a South American priest who uses the Kanima to execute murderers in his village-”

“All right, see? So maybe it’s not all that bad.” Stiles cut her off optimistically.

Y/n just smirked and continued what Allison was trying to say, “until the bond grew strong enough that it killed whoever he wanted it to.”

Stiles eyes widened as he looked at her and she winked.

“All bad, all very, very bad.”

“Here’s the thing though. The Kanima is actually supposed to be a werewolf. But it can’t be-”

“Until it resolves that in its past which manifested it.” Scott finished what Allison had began to say as he read off of the tablet.

“Okay, if that means that Jackson could use a few thousand hours of therapy, I could’ve told you that myself.” Stiles’ cynical sarcasm took over the atmosphere.

“What if- it has something to do with his parents? His real parents.” Allison’s eyebrows furrowed as she thought of possibilities.

“Yeah, does anybody know what actually happened to them?” Scott followed.

“Lydia might.” Y/n nodded her head as she thought of the strawberry blonde.

“What if she doesn’t know anything?” Scott asked.

“Well, he doesn’t have a restraining order against me, so- I’ll talk to him myself.” Allison offered whilst shrugging her shoulders.

“Okay, what do I do?” Scott leaned down to look into her eyes.

“You have a make-up exam, remember? Promise me.” She whispered.

“If he does anything, you run the other way.” Scott’s voice became serious.

“I can take care of myself.” Allison reminded him once again.

“Allison,” Scott sighed, “if you get hurt while I’m taking some stupid test, someone’s going to need to take care of me.” Y/n watched her brother’s eyes as he spoke to Allison and she smiled. She had never seen him care so much for someone, and she loved that it was Allison that he felt this way about.

“If he does anything-”

“Like?” Allison cut him off gently.

“Anything- weird or bizarre- anything.” He finished

“Anything evil!” Stiles head shot through the book shelf. Y/n and Allison smirked at each other before Y/n placed her hand on his forehead and forcefully pushed his head back through, causing him to stumble back and almost drop the tablet. He looked at her with an annoyed expression on his face as she just smiled back.

“Do you want me to go with you when you talk to Jackson?” Y/n offered as she and Allison left the boys behind and started to walk out of the library and out into the hallway.

“Did you forget he has a restraining order against you too?” Allison smiled amusingly as one of her eyebrows quirked.

Y/n just rolled her eyes, “No-I’m the smart twin remember- I know I can’t be there, but I could be 50 feet away if something goes wrong.”

“Thanks,” Allison said as she stopped at her locker and began spinning the combination until it opened, “but I don’t want to drag you into it, I don’t think he’ll hurt me at school.” She finished as she exchanged the books she had before with new ones.

Y/n was just standing to the side, back pressed against the locker as Allison gathered her things. Legs crossed and gaze down as she played with the ring on her fingers. Until she got the uncomfortable feeling that someone might be watching her, she slowly lifted her head to look at the scene around her.

Sure enough, across from her and down the hallway Isaac Lahey was leaning against another set of lockers glaring right at her. Once he realized he had her attention, he smirked. The smug look on his face making her skin crawl.

“That’s okay,” Y/n sighed irritated, “I think I have something to deal with anyway.” She narrowed her eyes at the beta, whispering the last part not to Allison but yet to him, she knew he would be listening.

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone.” Lydia held her head up high as Stiles angrily trailed behind her, annoyed.

“Come on,” he pushed her, “anyone who says ‘I’m not supposed to tell anyone’ is always dying to tell someone, so tell me!” He whispered exasperated.

Lydia tilted her head as if considering the offer, “why do you wanna know?”

“I can’t tell you that.” He sighed, hesitant.

Lydia furrowed her eyebrows skeptically, “Then I’m not telling you.”

“But you are telling me that you could tell me something if you wanted to tell me?” Stiles spilled out all in one breath… barely.

“Was that a question?” Lydia finally looked at him.

Stiles slowed his walking down to almost a stop, “it felt like a question.” he whispered to himself as he continued to follow behind the pretentious girl, gaining his speed back.

“Well- tell me if this feels like an answer,” Lydia’s tone sounding irritatingly high-pitch, “No.”

The strawberry blonde stormed off leaving Stiles behind watching her walk away.

“Lydia! Lydia, come on! Ly-wait! Ow! Ah, ah, hey, Erica.” He was caught off guard calling after Lydia being thrown into a wall by a psychotic blonde.

“Why are you asking about Jackson’s real parents?” Erica smirked as she forced her forearm harder against his neck.

Stiles was shook but even in his terrified state he was able to locate the camera in the corner directly behind Erica, his confidence gaining.

“Why are you bringing out the claws on camera?” His eyebrows wiggled, “That’s right. You wanna play Catwoman? I’ll be your Batman.”

Erica’s smirk fell and she dropped her arms back down to her sides, retracting her claws while Stiles fixed his hoodie.

“If you’re wondering about Jackson’s real parents, they’re about half a mile from here. In Beacon Hills Cemetery.”

“Do you know how they died?” Stiles asked ignoring Erica’s egotistical tone.

“Maybe,” she tilted her head and pursed her lips, “if you tell me why you’re so interested.”

“Um-” was the only word Stiles’ lips could form, he became nervous as she held his glare, knowing she could kick his ass at any second.

Observing his anxious and worried state, she was able to connect the dots.

“It’s him, isn’t it.” She smiled, chuckling.

“What? Who? Him who?” Stiles tried to play it cool, failing miserably.

“The test didn’t work, but it’s still him. It’s Jackson.” Erica whispered to herself, turning on her heel away from Stiles and storming down the hallway. Leaving him helpless.

However, as he watched her walk away he was able to return to his senses, taking off after her.

Y/n had lost sight of Isaac. She was following him through all the twists and turns her made through the hallways of the high school, but eventually she couldn’t keep up anymore.

Sighing, she decided to drop her need to find him for right now, considering it really wasn’t her most prioritized problem.

As if on cue, she felt her phone vibrate from her back pocket and she quickly retrieved the device to see that Scott was calling her.

“Hello?” Her voice traveled through the phone.

“Yeah hi, so Allison, Jackson, Stiles, Erica and I are going to detention.”

“Terrific!” She cheered sarcastically, “What exactly happened?”

She heard him sigh with embarrassment through the phone before answering, “I kinda, sorta… threw him against a locker.”

“So the restraining order is going well I see.”

Due to the silence that followed her snide comment, she could practically feel Scott rolling his eyes.

“Okay sorry, so what do you need me to like get you guys out or-”

“No, actually we need you to find Isaac.” Scott cut her off.

She reacted by slumping her shoulders and groaning loudly, “come on whyyy.”

“Look I don’t know how but Erica figured out that it’s Isaac. Please just make sure he doesn’t get to Derek.”

“Fine.” She conceded. Hanging up on her brother and begrudgingly spinning on her heel to continue her search for the cocky beta who had been throwing her head in a loop.

“Oh uh- we can’t be in detention together. I have a restraining order against these tools.” Jackson smirked proudly.

“All of these tools?” Mr. Harris asked for clarification.

“No just us tools.” Stiles motioned to him and Scott.

“Fine. You two, over there.” Harris pointed to a table opposite from Jackson.

After a while of sitting in detention. Allison at a table with Jackson and that kid Matt who surprisingly kept showing up places, Erica by herself, and Scott and Stiles far away.

All of the sudden Jackson started to feel a pounding in his head, his ears were ringing and his vision became blurry. He quickly removed himself from his seat and began to exit the library, Harris following behind him.

Once the door shut after being pushed open, Scott and Stiles shared a mischievous look with each other, before cascading out of their seats and dropping down at the same table as Erica.

“Stiles said you know how Jackson’s parents died.” Scott confronted her not wanting to waste anytime.

“Maybe.” She smirked.

“Talk.” Scott urged her forcefully.

Erica’s smirked dropped, placing her palms face down on the table she began to talk.

“It was a car accident. My dad was the insurance investigator, and every time he sees Jackson drive by in his Porsche, he makes some comment about the huge settlement he’ll be getting when he’s 18.”

“So not only is Jackson rich now, but he’s getting even richer at 18?” Stiles asked mockingly.

“Yep.” Erica confirmed, popping the ‘p’ dramatically.

“There’s something so deeply wrong with that.” Stiles whispered more to himself.

Y/n found herself inside the boys locker room. It was empty due to the fact that Scott and Jackson had pretty much broken every inch of it.

Her eyes followed along the cracks in the floor until they reached to the knocked down rows of lockers, falling next to the sink that was still consistently leaking water.

She thought maybe she could find Isaac here, but seeing as there was no one in here her theory was at a loss.

Frustrated she turned around to leave only to ran straight into someone standing right behind her, towering over her. And of course, it’s just so happened to be Isaac.

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered, shutting her eyes briefly before opening them again to look up at him.

“Looking for me?” He smirked down at her.

“Yes, not because I actually want to be around you though okay so don’t get any ideas Lahey.”

“Lahey? So we’re doing nicknames now?” He smiled down at her.

“No, no. WE are not doing anything. I’m just here to make sure you don’t know-” she trailed off not sure if Erica had actually told him her discoveries yet, “certain things.”

“Oh you mean like Jackson being the Kanima even though he passed the test?” The tall boy teased.

“That would be the certain thing yes.” She swung her arms down defeated.

“And you’ve come to politely ask me to convince Derek not to kill him.”

Y/n scrunched the features on her face sarcastically as if to suggest she was considering his words, “I’m not sure if politely is the word i would use but yeah let’s go with that.”

“Look Y/n, whatever Derek wants to do, he’s going to do and there’s nothing I can do to stop him.”

“God Isaac, you know- I felt sorry for you. I thought that you could be helped, that Derek was controlling you and forcing you to fight with him but I was wrong. You will willingly do whatever he asks you to do because you’re a coward. Instead of just making your own decisions and doing the right thing you just- you’re screwing everything up!” She threw her hands in the air frustratedly.

Both of them caught up in the anger of the moment hadn’t noticed that Scott and Stiles were now in their presence, Scott holding Erica in her arms as she was unconscious. However, when they heard the sound of y/n yelling they knew it was best not to interrupt the situation.

“I’m screwing everything up?” Isaac shot back pointing towards himself.

“Yeah you’re right, I would’ve done everything Derek asked me to do after he turned me at the beginning no questions asked. But ever since you showed up I’ve been lying to him when it comes to you, for some reason unknown to me I have this annoying tendency to make sure that you’re safe. So trust me I’m not the one screwing things up.” By the time he finished his breathing was heavy. He looked into Y/n’s wide eyes trying desperately to read what she was thinking but he couldn’t grasp it.

“Mmhm.” Scott cleared his throat causing both Y/n and Isaac to whip their heads in the direction of his voice.

“Isaac you need to take us to Derek,” Scott motioned down to Erica, “she needs help.”

Once they got inside the underground bunker Derek rushed Scott to lay Erica on the ground. Everyone else gathering around, Y/n catching Stiles’ eyes for a brief second before hurriedly looking away. She knew that when everything was over tonight she had a lot of explaining to do with Stiles and Scott.

“Hold her up.” Derek instructed Stiles, who began to sit on the ground and hold Erica’s body.

“Is she dying?” Stiles asked out of breathe, Y/n could tell her was concerned for her.

“She might,” Derek answered, “which is why this is gonna hurt.”

Derek clenched his teeth before breaking Erica’s arm, the sound of bone cracking sent shivers up Y/n’s spine.

“You broke her arm!” Stiles shouted.

“It’ll trigger the healing process.” Derek clarified.

Y/n watched as Stiles stroked the hair back that was sticking to Erica’s forehead. The action made her shift from foot to foot, uncomfortable. Unaware of his eyes on her, Isaac watched the effect that Stiles had on Y/n that he hadn’t noticed before.

“You know who it is.” Scott stated towards Derek who was recovering from saving Erica.

“Jackson.” He answered coldly.

“You just wanted Erica to confirm it, didn’t you? I’m gonna help you stop him. As part of your pack. If you want me in, fine. But we’ll do it on one condition. We’re gonna catch him, not kill him.”

Derek turned finally to meet Scott’s eyes, “And?” He urged Scott to continue, knowing the beta wasn’t finished.

“And we do it my way.”

Y/n was standing outside with her eyes closed under the night sky. Her head was pounding with the weight of everything going on in her current situation. She heard the door open from behind her, and she didn’t exactly know who she hoped it would be.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you today,” it was Isaac, “none of what I said is your fault, that’s all on me.”

“I just don’t get it.” She turned around to face him, confusion written all over the expression on her face.

“Why am I your anchor? The only time we’re ever actually near each other is to fight.”

“No every time we’re near each other you find a way to expose the truth about me.” With every word he spoke he took one step closer to her until he was standing right in front of her, eyes staring intensely into hers, except this time she didn’t take a step backwards.

“That’s because I think you can be saved. I think all three of you can.” She simply whispered.

“And I guess that’s just it too isn’t it Y/n, you’re not on anyone’s side. Not Derek’s, not Scott’s. You’re on your own side where you don’t want anyone to be fighting and I admire that about you.” His intense stare lightened into a gaze and she felt her heartbeat steady as a reaction.

“As much as I don’t want to fight, I have to. And I know that you think I can just simply choose not to but nothing is that simple in this town anymore.”
He laughed slightly.

“So whatever comes next I just hope afterwards I can convince you to forgive me.” His eyes were pleading with her, begging her to say something but she couldn’t. She was frozen and numb exactly where she was.

Knowing that he wasn’t going to get a reply, he did what he felt like he had to do to make her believe him. Without any warning Isaac cupped her face in both of his hands and roughly crashed his lips into hers.

She kept her eyes open at first from shook, but as his lips moved against hers it was like her mind and body wouldn’t let her do anything to stop him.

When they finally retreated from each other he kept his hands on the sides of her face and glared into her eyes, hoping maybe now she would say something.

And she did. “Why did you do that?” Her voice almost sounded angry.

“Why didn’t you stop me from doing it?” Y/n had no idea what to say, still processing what had happened. But instead of trying to figure it out, she turned on her heel and left Isaac standing where he was, returning to the door and rushing inside.

She immediately made her way over to Stiles, and he dropped everything when we noticed the distraught look in her eyes.

“Can you drive me home?” She asked desperately.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He agreed quickly and put his hand on her lower back as he guided her out to where his jeep was parked.

They both got inside the car and were on the road within seconds.

“I don’t know what to do.” She whispered, not really sure when she said it if she wanted him to hear her.

He grabbed her hand before speaking, “look we’ll figure it out. If we can take down an alpha werewolf I think we can handle a teenage lizard.” He tried to get her to laugh, frowning himself when it didn’t work.

“I’m not talking about the supernatural right now.” She spoke a little louder now, catching his eyes, the eyes that still took her breath away every time she looked into them.

“You can talk to me Y/n.” Stiles reassured her.

“I’m Isaac’s anchor apparently.”

“What?” The jeep swerved a little on the road as he tried to grasp the information she fed him.

“Oh just wait it’s gets worse,” she sighed as he waited for her to continue, “he kissed me tonight, Stiles.”

Y/n appreciated not being as werewolf in this moment more than in any else, she knew that the sound of his heart breaking and beating ridiculously fast would crush her.

“Oh.” Was all he could muster.

“And Stiles i didn’t stop him.”

Silence was all that sat between them. For excruciatingly long, Y/n sat behind the boy that she’s cared for since she could remember that time that he held her hand when her very first dog died, they were 8 around the time. It has always been Stiles.

“It looks like you have a lot to think about then.” Stiles broke the silence.

“Stiles this isn’t fair to you, you’ve been waiting for me and now I’m making everything so much worse and I’m so sorry.” She let her head fall, not being able to convince herself to look at him as tears fell freely from his face.

“Y/n I forgive you.”

“Why?” She gasped as he squeezed her hand a little tighter.

“Because one of the reasons I lo- care about you so much is because you would never do anything to hurt anyone. You would gladly throw yourself into a fire to save the people you love. I said I would give you as much time as you needed and I stand by that. If at the end of that time, there’s someone else standing with you, I forgive you.”

He didn’t deserve this hurt and sadness she was setting on top of him. She slowly opened the door and stepped out of the car, not knowing what to say. Y/n’s hand stayed grasped upon the door as she turned around to look at him one last time, needing to say something before she let the door shut.

“Every word I’ve said to you this past year, every kiss, I meant all of it Stiles and wouldn’t take it back for anything.”

“Me either.” She shut the door and he drove off. Leaving her more confused than she’d ever been.

anonymous asked:

Teach me how to get a girlfriend ;~;

Lure her down to your underground home with your sweet angelic voice and sing her a song about how much you want to bang her and how lonely you are. 

If that doesn’t work, make her the lead in your angsty opera and propose to her onstage after murdering her costar and assuming his role. 

And if that still does not work,

The Black Indians
Growing up Dalit in the US, finding your roots, fighting for your identity
by THENMOZHI SOUNDARARAJAN

Running, passing, hiding. This is the litany of the Dalit American. Growing up in southern California, my family was one of the first Tamil families to immigrate to Los Angeles. Representatives of the Indian brain drain that started in the 1970s, we were part of the first wave of Indian immigrants whose functions, sangams and religious communities helped establish the little India enclave in the now-famous Artesia.

We were also Dalits living underground. Caste exists wherever Indians exist and it manifests itself in a myriad of ways. The Indian diaspora thrives on caste because it is the atom that animates the molecule of their existence. In the face of xenophobia and racism abroad, many become more fundamentalist in their traditions and caste is part of that reactionary package. So, what does caste look like in the US?

Quite like in India, it is the smooth subtext beneath questions between uncles, like, “Oh! Where is your family from?” It is part of the cliques and divisions within those cultural associations where Indians self-segregate into linguistic and caste associations. It continues when aunties begin to discuss marriage prospects. They cluck their tongues softly, remark about your complexion, and pray for a good match from “our community”.

Many Americans can’t imagine what it looks like to pass. For my family, it was finding clever ways to avoid the ‘jati’ query.

For second-generation NRIs, flashing caste becomes a part of their cultural street cred with other communities. Some do it intentionally to elevate their identity while others operate from a misunderstanding of their own roots and blindly accept the symbols of their culture. Punjabi rappers throw down lyrics about being proud Jats. Tam- Brahms show off their sacred thread, recreate Thiruvayur in Cleveland, and learn Bharatanatyam while using their powerful networks to connect and succeed in the diaspora. Ultimately, we trade and calcify what is seen as proper Indian culture. But hidden within that idea of ‘proper’ lies the code for what is aspirational and ultimately upper caste.
It’s dangerous, this culture of caste-based intolerance in the diaspora for it extends beyond individual relationships. Individuals build institutions and institutions are steeped in caste. From Hindu temples to gurudwaras, there is a separate yet unspoken policy of worship for those that are Dalit. Furthermore, in the over fifty south Asian and Asian studies departments in North America, there are less than a handful of tenured Dalit faculty. And, crucially, as the Campaign to Stop Funding Hate has shown, NRIs in the US have directly funded and fuelled communal violence in India by supporting cultural and aid programmes that are fronts for local Hindutva organisations.

Through it all, Dalits Run. Pass. Hide.

For while caste is everywhere in the diaspora, there is a damning silence about naming caste. And in the silence there is violence.

I know because my family passed for many years. It was confusing, painful and lonely. We could never truly unpack the memories that my parents fled in India, nor could we confront the same infrastructure being rebuilt here in the shining land of the American Dream.

Many Americans and Indians can’t imagine what it looks like to pass. For my family it was finding ever clever ways to sidestep the ‘jati’ question, attending temple functions and never speaking about “our community” in public functions ever. We got away with it because there were so few of us in the beginning, and every Tamil was a valuable connection while learning to navigate this new country.

The leverage of our new lifestyle however allowed my family to support Dalit causes back home and work underground through a network of uncles who debated caste issues over phone calls, meetings and conferences. And, of course, while the men were active in this way, the women, like my mom, would pass on Dalit songs and stories holding on to that space—which was important even if we could not share it.

For though it has been almost 100 years since Ambedkar came to study at Columbia University, Dalits like my family are still struggling to find a foothold that is uniquely our own. Unlike other Indians, Dalits do not have their own public institutions within the diaspora. There is no way to go into any city and find and connect with local Dalits unless you are already plugged in to the unofficial Dalit underground communities held together by mailing lists, Facebook groups and phone trees that help us survive the double whammy of racism and casteism.

I do not know exactly what age I understood I was untouchable, for it was always around me. But I knew exactly when it was that I became a Dalit. It was only when I was 17 and picked up a book about Ambedkar that had grown dusty in our family library that a lightning rod singed my soul. I read his work alongside my Dad’s battered copies of works by Black activists, Stokley Carmichael’s Black Power and Malcolm X’s Autobiography. Through their words, I found the courage and conviction to be able to address the profound lack of information and access to Dalit history in the diaspora. I was part of a powerful tradition of resistance.

Despite having two parents who are doctors, I returned to my caste’s profession of singing and telling stories and found dignity in this. When I assumed my performance name, Dalit Diva, it was a declaration of the joy of being part of such an incredible line of creators, survivors and leaders. And there have been repercussions. I have been served by Indian friends in ‘different utensils’, curses and even death threats have been hurled at me. But I have never regretted coming out. I sing the Dalit history of resilience, resistance, revolution.

Batman's other Robin (part 3!!)

After a few more intensely personal and difficult questions, Batman had decided he could trust Phantom. Mostly. Now, that didn’t mean he didn’t have more questions, there were definitely more. But it was nearing the 2 hour deadline Bruce had before a CEO meeting. One more he decided, one more question. “How old are you Phantom? I would like to know how long you’ve been dead and how old you were when you died. ” To Batman’s shock, Phantom started blushing an icy blue rather than looking defensive or surprised, like he had expected. “Uh, well I’ve been dead for almost- wow, almost- 3 years. And I was about 14 I think, memories from then are a bit fuzzy.” Phantom meant the initial electrocution in the Portal, but Batman had taken it as when he was living. (Not that Phantom was surprised by this) “You’re 16??”, Robin shouted-his voice cracked- oh the perks of puberty. 

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anonymous asked:

You wake up in Eriks house and have his mask in your hand. You have no clue how or why you go there. What do you do?

Easy, I immediately place the mask on my own face and complete my dream of becoming the phantom.

I then forcibly kick Erik from his underground home and reclaim it as mine.

I am the Opera Ghost now. I live a happy life locked away in complete solitude and occasionally haunt the good folks of the opera house.

They Somehow Saved Me

Written for: HanPan Punk’s Not Dead Challenge ( @hannahindie / @pinknerdpanda )

Words: 4523

Relationship: eventual Dean x Reader x Sam, Reader x OFC (past)

Warnings: ANGST, Language, Verbal and Emotional Abuse, Homophobic slur, pan!reader, fluff

Prompt: “I’m troublesome, I’ve fallen, I’m angry at my father, it’s me against this world and I don’t care” The Young and the Hopeless, Good Charlotte

A/N: Okay so I used to listen to this song on repeat back in the day because I just felt really in tune with it. That being said this fic got a lot personal and most of the interactions between the reader and her father are actual events in my life. So this is kind of therapeutic and I hope the boys make it better. Also summaries and titles are hard. Lyrics are bolded. Tags are on the bottom and should you wish not to be tagged please just let me know. Feedback is always appreciated. 

Summary: The reader takes off to for her sister’s wedding not telling the Winchesters, who are unaware that she has family. Soon secrets are brought to light that will change the readers relationship with the Winchesters forever. 

      The putrid smell of cigarette smoke drifting through the little bar that you had settled in with a tumbler of whiskey. It didn’t bother you like it usually did because you were focused on more important issues like the fact that in roughly twelve more hours you’d be back home. Well, your hometown at least but not your home. Your home was an underground hole in Lebanon, Kansas with two hunters and a fallen angel, but no you left without so much as a note. You didn’t know why your father had to ruin everything.

    The buzzing of your phone for what had to be the fiftieth time that night pulled you from the smoke and thoughts of what awaited you at home. It was Sam this time calling before you allowed it to go to voicemail. You’d call them as soon as you were back on the road tomorrow because that should be enough distance. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of the boys you just didn’t want them to meet your family especially your Dad. The next two days would be hard enough without trying to run interference between your chosen family and your birth family. The phone buzzed again with a text message which you opened without reply.

[Dean: This isn’t okay Y/N! Just tell us if you’re okay and we’ll leave you be. Please.]

[You: I’m fine.]

[Dean: Where are you?]

[You: I’m fine.]

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Daily preferences master list’s

Enjoy reading and scrolling through my blog everyone~ (Don’t hesitate to inbox me for anything!) Love you all! xx


Daily preferences:

#1 Falling asleep in front of a movie

#2 Napping after work

#3 Playfully making your bed

#4 Ice cream date

#5 Woke up by a kiss

#6 Jealous Jin

#7 Babysitting help

#8 Midnight snacks

#9 Hot hugs

#10 Brain Dots

#11 After school surprise

# Cheering you up

#12 Periods cramps

#13 Stare game

#14 Hot chocolate kiss

#15 Jealous of your male best friend

#16 Scared of storms

#17 Scared of spiders

#18 Kiss cam

#19 Playing video games

#20 Horror movie

#21 Unexpected kiss

#22 Ordering pizze

#23 Study support

#24 Lunch date

#25 Introducing you to his friends

#26 Nail polish kisses

#27 Cinema date

#28 Chocolate bar

#29 Studying kisses

#30 Bowling date

#31 Vacation ride

#32 Cuddling day off

#33 Push ups

#34 Forbidden diet

#35 Changed homescreen

#36 Nap on his knees

#37 Waiting room

#38 Taking the underground

#39 Home after a tiring day

#40 Accidental skype confession

#41 Bless you

#42 After-shower routine

#43 Water bottle

#44 New hair cut

#45 Waking up on a Sunday morning

#46 Just dance

#47 Surprise visit after your shower

#48 Late night Skype

#49 Receiving your scholar books

#50 Changing contact name

#51 Going back home at night

#52 Music festival date

#53 Kisses; stress reliever

#54 Spending your birthday (and Jungkook’s birthday together) (Requested)

#55 Protecting you from the rain

#56 He randomly knows your name at school

#57 Exchanging glances in class

#58 Parrot

#59 Note into your locker

#60 No longer your seatmate

#61 Taking the bus after a long day

#62 Missing him to sleep

#63 Snapbacks

#64 Struggling to stay awake

#65 Basketball game with your boyfriend

#66 Falling asleep on a rainy night with your boyfriend

#67 Feeling low because of your look

#68 Staying up late to study

#69 Being cold so he warms you up

#70 Too lazy to get up to go to work so he gently wakes you up

#71 Missed the bus

#72 Having a good time with your boyfriend while watching a basketball match

#73 Shy bathing time

#74 Playfihting because of your wet hands

#75 Learning to us chopsticks

#76 Ill

#77 Restaurant date

#78 Running motivation

#79 Carry you to bed

#80 Finishing your homework earlier

#81 Can’t find your glasses

#82 Schoolmate staring at you

#83 Attempt to make you smile

#84 Sporty date

#85 “Perfect date”

#86 Studying pause

#87 Bike riding

#88 Legs tickling

#89 Airport meeting (Requested)

#90 “I don’t need make up” (Requested)

#91 Come over on a Saturday night (Requested)

#92 Bubble gums

#93 Lazy day in bed (Requested)

#94 Dancing with Namjoon

#95 Your best friend helping you to go through your heart break

#96 Surprise picking up (Requested)

#97 Late phone call and silly conversations

#98 Cheerful text

#99 Pregnant announce (Requested)

#100 Wedding propose (Requested)

#101 Cheating rumors (Requested)

#102 Taking a pic of you but you feel insecure

#103 Tying up his ties

#104 Jealous and protective when you leave the house

#105 Cold

#106 Mental breakdown

#107 Twisted ankle

#108 Cute when…

#109 Men in the street

#110 Drunk in love

#111 Jealous crush

#112  Emperor

#113 First date

#114 Craving for kisses

#115 Cheesy halloween

#116 Comforting boyfriend

#117 Drunk with stranger

#118 Break up

#119 We could (based on Do I wanna know by Arctic Monkeys).

#120 Master (NSFW).

#121 Shattered

#122 Just a lifetime

#123 Ditch class

#124 Confidence

#125 Meet again

#126 Pretty hot though

#127 Even more tomorrow

#128 What would you do?

#129 You like me, don’t you?

#130 Possessivity

#131 Your most prescious dream

#132 Be your last

#133 Not born to fight

#134 Feel the same

#135 Close enough

#136 Unexpected kiss

#137 Stress relieving session

#138 Run

#139 “You’re the one that’s annoying!”

#140 “I will think about it.”

#141 Cheater

#142 “I am not sick!”

#143 Uninspired

#144 Bakeries

#145 Christmas ice skating

#146 Sky is the limit

#147 Protective brother

#148 Torture

#149 Psychotic boyfriend

#150 Supportive father

#151 Routine

#152 Garlands

#153 Holidays

#154 Art teacher

#155 Revelation

#156 Awkward firt kiss

#157 Shamefuly attracted

#158 Hard to concentrate

#159 Serious when it comes to you

#160 Have a nice day

#161 Still can’t get enough

#162 Steamy atmosphere

#163 Plushie gift

#164 How much do you love me?

#165 Sexy teasing

#166 You so love hate him

#167 I don’t care what you think about your beauty

#168 Not as a friend anymore

#169 seems like I forgot this one, oops! Sorry x

#170 Couple silliness

#171 Surprise meeting

#172 Art project

#173 Play fighting

#174 Scared of love

#175 The little surprise

#176 Meeting family

#177 Love is a cycle…

#178 Garden of Eden

#179 Massage session

on: bangtan, as of april 2017.

look at the group nobody believed in;; look at the group people beat down and shunned;; look at the group made up of people who come from near-homelessness and depression, social anxiety and eating disorders - from normal to somewhat broken homes - from the underground, from a family of farmers, from Ilsan / Daegu / Busan and Gyeonggi-do - from a tiny company, from nowhere.

look at where they came from, and look at they are now.
look at where they are, and look at where they started.

Tension at the Office

Character: Jessica (SNSD)
Word count: 2519
Summary: CEO Jessica Jung always took her work seriously. Even if she had to work with an infuriating, tardy woman in tight dresses and high heels | #(slight)smut #fluff #office!au
Warnings: slightly smutty themes (business woman Jess got me feeling things …), slight bad language

Originally posted by heyjessica


She couldn’t help the way her eyes rolled when you walked into her office, twenty minutes late and beaming to the brim with a smile.

“Good morning, Jessica! Sorry I’m late!”

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Earth-cooled, shipping container underground CA home for 30K

As a kid Steve Rees played in caves and learned how the earth could cool. As an adult, he buried two shipping containers and created an off-grid retirement home for himself and his wife Shirley.