voice of thunder

hey everyone it’s, uh, jeff from the overwatch team here, with another developer update. as you can see i haven’t, uh, slept in a few days, because my, uh, dreams are still haunted, by terrifying visions of former creative director chris metzen pressing his, uh, face against my windows and proclaiming that, i, uh, am not worthy, with his voice a thunderous and unnatural rattle and the moonlight glinting off of his many rows of, uh, sharklike teeth. anyways a lot of you had some questions about the new ana changes and

.... And your intelligence score is 15?

I’m currently one of the 6 DMs in a 36 player mega-campaign, following (loosely) the Tyranny of Dragons campaign world. The players have mostly split up into about four parties, which are each following their own trail to track down the cult. Three of them are off doing their own thing, but one of them is in the city of Elturel and has decided to split up in order to cover more ground. Thankfully, we have enough DMs to cover them.

Then, a Dwarf Wizard decides to wander off, and I, as the last DM without a group at the moment, am sent to cover him.

For brief context, our version of Elturel has a tower beneath the town’s massive orb of undead-killing light, a temple of Sune. Her symbol is a candle, it now looks like a giant candle, all good. So, the dwarf decides to go there. 

PC: I’m going to head to the tower, all the way to the top.

Me: Cool, well, you get most of the way up, but there’s no obvious access to the roof. 

He then snags a nearby cleric and begins to ask him about the orb of light.

PC: “So, what’s causing that light?

NPC: “The Holy Light of Sune, it is light born from her magic.”

PC: “Yes, but where is it coming from?”

NPC: “… Her magic.”

PC: “But what’s in the middle?”

NPC: “Nothing is in the middle.”

PC: “Can I go up and take a look?’

NPC: "No, you can not study, prod, or examine our holy site to sate your own curiosity, you damned irreverent mage.”

PC: “So, can you tell me what’s casting the light?”

To save quite a bit of headache, he eventually had it explained to him in dead simple terms that there was just a floating ball of light, there was no crystal or sun or whatever, it was much like the light spell he himself could cast. The cleric walked away very annoyed. Being a dwarf character, he then got interested in the stone of the tower.

PC: “What’s the stone?”

Me: It’s something you’ve never seen. Smooth, joinless, white, almost like wax or bone.

PC: “But I have stone-cunning, and-”

Me: Yes, I know. You don’t recognize this. It’s definitely not local stone, and it might be unnatural.

Eventually, he also managed to get that it was made by magic, when another cleric repeated the story of the tower he had been told earlier. Kelemvor and Sune made the place together, so the Candle was brought into being by Sune, and lit by the pair, creating a light that destroyed undead. I thought he would be satisfied by this answer. I was incorrect.

PC: I want to cast identify on the tower!

Me: Roll intelligence. *Rolls* That would probably piss them off, given they told you flat out not to fuck with this place. 

PC: “Right, I’m going to hide somewhere against a wall then cast Identify on it!”

Me: “Roll Perception to find a place and Stealth to hide there.”

PC: *Rolls* *Nat 20 and Un-natural 20 on Stealth*

Me: “… Alright, so, you hide under a table with a large tablecloth in part of the library. When you cast Identify, you are suddenly near-blinded by an incredible white glow coming from every direction. The outline of a winged, angelic figure is all you can make out, which speaks to you in a thunderous voice in a language you do not know. The gist is there, however. "Do a stop it.”

PC: I cast Detect Thoughts on it!

Me: … I’m sorry, what?

PC: What is it thinking?

To summarize: This clown, a third level wizard, proceeded to cast Detect Thoughts on an unprepared-for-that-level-of-dumbfuckery Solar. A CR: 21 Angel of a major god. Due to how the spell worked, there was nothing actually stopping him from hearing the thoughts. The end result was being dropped to 1 HP, at 5 Levels of Exhaustion, and he was Blinded, Deafened, Stunned and Unconcious for nearly 18 hours after. He was only awoken when a priest happened to make the perception check to stumble across him, after his party had come and gone looking for him. He comes to, surrounded by a lot of clerics and several paladins, all of whom look quite pissed. 

Paladin: “What in the goddess’s name are you doing under there?”

He looks around blearily, and decides to repeat the words the Solar said to him. There’s a pause, and then an old elf pushes his way to the front. 

NPC: “Where did you hear that?”

PC: “The god told me that after I cast identify on the tower.”

NPC: “… That means, in Celestial, "Meddle not in affairs beyond your Ken, upstart mortal.” I’m sorry, you were doing WHAT to our tower?“ 

He then proceeded to explain what he had been doing. 

Long story short, he is now considered a Heretic and Defiler by the temple, was thrown out the front doors, and several of the game’s clerics are considering challenging him to duels of honor for his sheer ineptitude. Meanwhile, the rest of the party managed to accomplish the mission they were in town for.

What he had been doing had nothing in any way to do with their job.  

People Solas should fear more than the Inquisitor: 

  • 1. Hawke’s love interest if Hawke was left in the Fade. 
  • 2. The Warden Commander if Alistair was left in the Fade. 

-Like dude steps out of a mirror trying to recruit Merrill to his cause to “bring back what was ours” and Merrill just turns to him and says “you took Hawke from me” before slicing her palm and oh shit, girl’s blood magic game is strong.

-Anders shows up in the Fade, more Justice than man, his voice as loud as thunder when he says “you have taken the one mortal who mattered most. For that you shall perish”

-Fenris, leaving a slave rebellion, is greeted by Solas asking for his help to “bring the elves to freedom” and then Solas finds a hand through his chest, green eyes full of rage, and a voice that says “you”  

-Solas’ agents are found slaughtered one after the other with a gold coin on each of their corpses. A warning. The pirate queen is coming for you. 

-The Warden is ripping their way through each of Solas’ outposts, and while Solas thought he could fear no mortal, he starts to when they keep getting closer and closer. 

A Day Without a Woman: What you need to know

The Women’s March on Washington galvanized women across the globe and gave voice to a rising political force on a history-making day. More than 2 million people took to the streets in Washington, D.C., and cities small and large on Jan. 21 to protest a new administration they fear will roll back civil, human and reproductive rights.

Will that voice thunder again?

On Wednesday, International Women’s Day, the organizers behind the January march are planning a showing of economic solidarity in walkouts, rallies and marches dubbed A Day Without a Woman.

Read more. 

(Photo: Kyle Grantham, The News Journal)

In This Light (Part 1)

Summary: Model!Bucky AU with Photographer!Reader. This is your meeting with Bucky, and how your friendship developed into something more.

Pairings: Bucky x Reader (main); Steve x Reader (side)

Word Count: 4,658

Warnings: None.

A/N: This is a re-write of  Dean fic series I never finished. Here’s hoping that I will have motivation to finish this storyline with Buckaroo. Hope you all enjoy! Also, I don’t claim to know how the photography/fashion world works, I’m just… Sorry if there are mistakes. 


“Alright, children, enough chattering!” A large woman with bushy blonde hair and overdone makeup stared down at her sixth-grade Earth and Space science class. She was frowning and it was only the first day of classes. She was already feeling the headache that was sure to make itself known by the end of the week. “Settle down!” she bellowed.

At her shrill voice, silence overcame the room and everyone found empty seats to call their own. She gave them all a wide, forced smile in gratitude. “Welcome to Earth and Space Science! I am Mrs. Paulson and I will not tolerate any unruly conduct in my class. You will be wise to be on your best behavior while you’re in my class. If you aren’t, a detention slip with your name on it will be waiting for you by the end of class. Do I make myself clear?”

A drone of agreements reached her ears and she gave a grin of satisfaction. Some kids thought her wolf-like. She clapped her hands once before picking up a stack of papers, licking her forefinger to separate the sheets. Oblivious to the grimaces of her students as she handed them their syllabus, her voice thundered through the room. “Learn it, live it, love it. I will always abide by the schedule you find there and everything that will be required of you is written on that very sheet. Is that understood? There are no excuses!”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi, I just wanted to say the the gods & monsters series is one of the most wonderful things I've read. I know that some already have Hades in them but could you please do one about Hades and Persephone meeting? That would be amazing, thank you

Apollo comes to her, warm and smiling. He likes her body, its gentle curves, the flawless skin, how it shines with the youth and strength of spring. He is the sun and she is the earth, and it is from his rays that she gains her strength, and it would be expected of them to love each other. The god is golden, from his skin to his hair to his mischievous eyes, and there is not an inch of him that is not as lovely as the rays of sunlight peeking through the leaves.

Kore is not stupid. She knows Apollo does not linger, that she will be a wife in name and little else; he will lie with her and worship her and then grow bored of her.

Hermes comes to her, eyes sharp and hands gentle. He likes her mind, her acuteness, the way she views the world as a gem cutter would a raw emerald. He is wings and air and she is firmly rooted in the earth, she is as far from him as one can be, but his skin and hers are the exact same shade and she finds the shape of his mouth pleasing. She likes the way he considers her his equal.

But Hermes is meant to fly, spends his time carrying messages for Zeus and meddling in things that ought not to be meddled in. He may be a fine enough man, but he’s no husband.

She has two offers – each from powerful gods, each attractive and clever. There’s no reason she should find them both as unappealing as congealed chicken fat, yet she does.

“I do not often find you alone,” a deep, feminine voice says, and Kore suppresses a sigh as she turns to greet the approaching woman. She sits deep in the forest under a blossoming apple tree, but this is not her dominion alone.

“I am not often alone,” she concedes, observing the blood soaked goddess. “I’m assuming none of that is yours?”

Artemis doesn’t have enough hair to toss it over her shoulder, but she runs a hand through it, pushing it out of her face and streaking it copper in the process. “Of course not. I hope you weren’t too attached to the bucks of this forest.”

“Animals are not my concern,” she answers, “Besides, I am the goddess of spring, and therefore am born from death. It would be foolish of me to reject that which bore me.”

“Funny you should say that,” she says, “since all of Olympus is gossiping about how desperately you seek to leave the sanctuary of what bore you.”

Kore raises an eyebrow. Artemis is clumsy with her words, but she supposes the woman has never had a need to be otherwise. There are few as transparently straightforward as the huntress. She smiles, “Perhaps it is more funny, dear cousin, how easily the words prison and sanctuary become entangled.“

Artemis crosses her arms and sucks her lower lips between her teeth. “No,” she says finally, sobering, “I don’t think that’s very funny at all.”

Kore arranges her skirts around her, the green of the thread and that of the grass nearly identical. “If you’re here to plead your brother’s case for my hand, I’m willing to listen.”

The huntress snorts, derisive, and Kore raises an eyebrow. “I would not recommend my brother’s hand,” she says, “There are other parts of his anatomy which leave many satisfied, however, if that falls within your interests.”

“I am a more desirable bride as a virgin,” she answers instead of saying that the thought of touching a man she does not love makes her skin crawl. Artemis laughs as if she just told a joke, but if so Kore is ignorant of the punchline.

She does not know if she could love either Hermes or Apollo, at least not for the eternity that marks a god’s impossibly long life. It would result in a rather lackluster love making, which is presumably their main goal in pursuing her.

She dislikes her options. Behind her is the gilded cage of her mother’s overprotectiveness, and ahead of her lies the gilded cage of a loveless marriage.

“Kore,” Artemis says, frowning, “if – if you are to defy Demeter, you must go someplace that she cannot enter, a place where her magic cannot reach you.”

“Where might that be?” Kore asks dryly, “She is as I am – all that grows from this earth is our domain. Perhaps in the sea I could hide from her, but Poseidon is no friend of mine and has no reason to grant me asylum.”

Artemis shrugs, a wry twist to her lips. She cracks her neck on either side and walks back from where she came, but not before calling out over her shoulder, “I guess there is no such place Kore, goddess of spring, born of death and Demeter.“

Kore is still for a long time, staring at the place where Artemis stood.

Perhaps she is not so clumsy with her words after all.

 ~

Slipping away from her mother’s watchful eye is always monstrous task, even more so since the rumors of her proposals, but she manages. She finds the River Styx and follows it against its current, walking past and through all the warning sign that she’s gone too far, ignores the prickle along her skin as she crosses the threshold from this world to the next.

Almost immediately she comes across a hooded figure standing besides a small boat. “Charon,” she greets confidently. She tries to catch a peek under his hood, but he tilts his head away from her and manages to give the impression that he’s frowning at her even though she can’t see his face. “I need passage across the river.”

“You are not dead, lady goddess,” he says.

She holds out a shiny gold coin, “I can pay.”

“You are not dead,” he repeats, “You may not be ferried across.”

She nearly snaps at him, but instead takes a firm hold on her temper and thinks. Charon did not say she was not permitted to enter the underworld, only that he may not ferry her across. She peeks into the rushing river. It’s so powerful and fast that it churns grey foam and the water itself looks black, or perhaps that is simply whatever lies beneath. She skims her hand across the surface and the skin of her fingertips comes away burned and blistering.

“May I swim?” she asks.

“There are no rules preventing the impossible,” he tells her, but his shoulders stiffen as if he’s grown nervous.

Kore is not nervous. Either she survives and manages to enter the underworld, or she dies and Charon will have no choice but to ferry her across.

She sheds her gown – it will only weigh her down and get in her way. “My lady goddess,” Charon says, and Kore would almost say he sounds panicked. “Please do not –”

She jumps into the river.

It burns all over, white hot pain that makes her want to scream, but she has no interest in discovering what would happen if she were to swallow any of this supposed water. The current fights against her at every turn, and her muscles bunch and strain to not be swept away. It’s improbably difficult, the most difficult thing she’s ever done, but she grasps the edge of the shore with peeling hands and heaves her bloody body unto the ground.

Her entire body is one throbbing wound. Perhaps she should have listened to Charon before diving headfirst into the river, but it’s too late for regrets.

“Are you insane?” a thunderous voice demands, and then she’s being lifted by strong arms until she’s settled against a muscular chest.

She forces her eyes open, and the man glaring down at her has hair the color of the night sky and skin as pale as bone. His nose is long and sharp, his mouth wide and thin. The only bits of colors are his eyes, a green so dark that at first glance they look black. She raises a hand and cups his face, and the water clinging to her doesn’t seem to hurt him the way it hurt her. “Hades,” she says, and everything pains her just as much as before but his skin soothes hers. The skin on her palms comes away healed.

He’s angry with her, but his touch is gentle. There’s not a stitch of clothing on her, but he doesn’t glance or grope, only pulls her against him and uses the sleeve of his robe to clear the burning water from her face. “Yes, insane goddess, I am Hades.”

She had not meant to meet him, only to hide among his realm until she could think of a better plan. But she likes him already, an instantaneous and childish feeling, one she can’t remember having before.

She turns into his chest and lets out a pleased sigh, content to go wherever he brings her.

“They call me Kore.”



gods and monsters series, part vii

I Got You On My Mind [Part 6]

Jungkook Soulmate AU (Angst)

[Part OnePrevious Part | Part Six | Next Part

Summary: After regaining some of your memories, you and Jungkook finally face the truth.

Word count: 1.9k words

Originally posted by jungxook

When Jieun came home, she found you sitting on the floor. Your eyes were red, but your tears had dried long ago. Jieun regarded your blank expression with concern, immediately dropping to the ground to check on you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Jieun asked frantically, looking at your body for injuries. “Did you hurt your leg again? Why are you crying?”

You sighed and closed your eyes, feeling more tired than upset. Jieun’s flittering hands stilled, as if she sensed that something was off.

“Y/N?”

“I remember now, Jieun,” you said. “I remember what happen that night, and what happened after. I know that you and Jungkook were a thing, and that he rejected me right away.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Jieun whispered, her own eyes watering. “I didn’t want to upset you or confuse you. It hurt you so much the first time, I didn’t want to see you go through it again.”

“I just don’t understand,” you replied, your voice strained with frustration. “Did you like him? Do you still like him? Is that why you tried to hide your relationship with him from me?”

“What? No! No, of course not,” Jieun exclaimed, her eyes widening with surprise. “I mean, I did have a bit of a crush on him, but our relationship was just physical. It ended as soon as you two figured out that you’re…you know, soulmates.”

“But I’m still confused,” you said, trying to hold off another wave of tears. “Jungkook said he wanted nothing to do me. But now he’s so sweet. He’s like two different people, and I don’t know which one is the real him.”

“Just talk to him,” Jieun smiled, rubbing your back gently. “He’s not as bad as you remember. I’m sure the person Jungkook is with you now is the person he wishes he was when you first met.”

“Still, why was he so cruel in the beginning?” you asked helplessly. “I don’t know if I can forgive that.”

“Only Jungkook can answer that,” Jieun replied softly. “Promise me you’ll talk to him, okay?”

You nodded, realizing that Jieun knew much more than she let on. She helped you to your feet and led you back to the couch. You decided you wouldn’t press her for more information, because in the end, you would need to talk to Jungkook eventually.


Even though you had decided to talk to Jungkook, you hadn’t been able to muster enough courage to confront him. He had no idea that you had regained your memories, so he was contacting you like usual. But when you picked up your phone to reply, the events of your first encounter flashed before your eyes. Every time that happened, you put your phone down and tried to ignore your heavy heart.

So, to put it simply, you had been ignoring Jungkook for the past week.

You had several unread messages in your inbox from Jungkook. Surely Jungkook was so popular, he wasn’t used to be ignored. The texts started coming less frequently, and you wondered if they would eventually stop all together. You figured–albeit guiltily–that if Jungkook really wanted company, he could find another girl.

One Thursday afternoon, you were reading through some notes sent to you by a classmate when you heard Jungkook’s thoughts whispering in the back of your head. You jumped, growing unaccustomed to your soulmate’s presence after such a long period of silence.

“Why isn’t she talking to me?” Jungkook thought, and although it was quiet in your mind, you could hear the worry in your voice. Your heart panged, and you felt bad for assuming the worst of Jungkook. Clearly, he was still thinking of you. “Did I do something wrong again?”

Again.

No, not again. The first mistake was hurtful enough. But of course, Jungkook had no idea that you remembered what he had done. You wanted to scream at him–make him hurt as much as he had hurt you. But you also just wanted to see him again, because you had grown to love the caring side of Jungkook that he had shown you.

“Maybe her condition got worse,” came Jungkook’s next thought, which sounded even more alarmed than the last. “I should stop by. Yeah–I’ll go after class.”

You jumped to your feet, wavering as you tried to catch your balance. Reaching out for your crutches, you hobbled out of your room and into the living room, where Jieun was playing guitar.

“Jieun!” you screeched, making her jump.

“Oh my god!” Jieun squealed, placing a hand over her heart dramatically. “Why are you screaming at me?”

“Jungkook’s coming here after his class is over,” you hurried to explain, your words overlapping in your haste. Still, Jieun understood what you were trying to say.

“Oh, so do you need me to leave?” Jieun asked, setting aside her guitar. “I can disappear for an hour or two.”

“No, no! Definitely do not leave,” you squeaked desperately. “I’m not ready to see him! I need you to cover for me. Tell him that I’m not home and that I forgot my phone here.”

“What? Y/N, are you avoiding him?” Jieun demanded, her face growing dark. “You promised me that you would talk to him! Ignoring your problems won’t make them go away.”

“I know, I know!” you replied. “And I will talk to him, but I’m just not ready yet. I need time to process everything so that I can face him properly. I don’t want to get upset and ruin things forever.”

Jieun’s face softened at your obvious fear, and she sighed. “I understand why you’re scared, but you should trust Jungkook a little bit too,” she argued. “He’s shown you that he’s a good guy, right? I get why you’re so hesitant, believe me. But I’m also seeing this from Jungkook’s perspective, too.”

“You’re my friend, be on my side!” you whined. Jieun rolled her eyes at you.

“Okay, don’t do that. I’m doing what’s best for you,” Jieun said. “Even though you don’t want to talk to him now, in the long run, you’ll be thanking me for making you two work out your problems.”

“I’ll thank you even more if you cover for me this one time,” you said, on the borderline of begging. “I swear I’ll talk to him after, Jieun! I just need a little more time. I’m really not ready to see Jungkook.”

“Fine,” Jieun sighed, falling back onto the couch in frustration. “I’ll cover for you this one time. You can go hide in your room or whatever.”

“Thank you so much, Jieun!” you cried. “I love you so much! You’re the best.”

“I know,” Jieun laughed. “And I’m assuming you ignored all of Jungkook’s attempts to contact you up until now?”

You looked away guiltily.


When Jungkook knocked on the door, you were hiding in your room. Your bedroom door was left slightly ajar, so if you peeked through, you could see the foyer. Jieun approached it, glaring at you as she did. You sent her a thankful smile.

Jieun opened the door, but you couldn’t see Jungkook.

“Oh, Jieun,” Jungkook said. You missed the sound of his sweet voice–you could admit that. “Is Y/N around? I haven’t heard from her since I saw her last week.”

“No, she’s not around,” Jieun replied easily. “Y/N had to spend the week with her grandparents, because they got really worried when they heard about the accident. And she was dumb enough to leave her phone at home.”

“Oh,” Jungkook said, sounding surprised. It sounded like a valid excuse, and you were a little shocked that Jieun was so good at lying. “I’m surprised she didn’t tell me earlier.”

“It’s because she didn’t know that she would be leaving until her grandparents showed up,” Jieun answered. She continued a bit sheepishly, “Actually, I was supposed to tell you that she would be out of town. I guess I forgot.”

“Yeah, guess you did,” Jungkook replied dryly. Jieun just shrugged and sent him a carefree smile. “When will she be back?”

“Sometime next week,” Jieun said. You gulped, realizing that she was giving you a deadline.

“Alright,” Jungkook said slowly. He sounded like he was getting ready to leave. “Thanks, I guess.”

Jieun began to close the door slowly. You exhaled in relief, feeling your body deflate. I can’t believe that worked, you thought. Jieun should have been an actress.

“What the fuck?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly thundered. Jieun jumped, backing away from the door. Jungkook burst through the foyer. “Why are you lying to me?”

“W-what are you talking about?” Jieun stammered.

“Y/N, where are you?” Jungkook called out, ignoring Jieun completely. “I know you’re here. I can hear you thinking right now.”

Oh shit.

“Yeah, oh shit is right,” Jungkook snorted. He scanned the apartment, finally settling on your bedroom door. He saw your face peeking through, and he smiled slightly and began to approach you.

Accepting your fate, you pulled yourself to your feet and opened the door, clutching the doorframe for support.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Jungkook asked once he stood in front of you, the hurt clear in his downtrodden expression. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“Yeah, you did,” you replied tiredly.

“What was it?” Jungkook questioned, confused. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, if I did. I thought you had a good time with me last week.”

“I did,” you smiled. “You’ve been really great since the hospital. You helped me a lot, and you’re fun to be around.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Jungkook asked, cocking his head adorably in confusion.

“It’s what happened before then,” you said simply.

Jungkook paled, his mouth opening slightly. His eyes lowered, and you could see his jaw clenching. He stood there quietly for a few moments, but eventually, he tentatively lifted his gaze to meet yours.

“You remember everything,” Jungkook said quietly. It wasn’t a question. He was biting his lip nervously, and you wondered why he was the nervous one when it was you who had been deceived all along.

“Not everything, but I remember enough,” you responded. You broke your eye contact with Jungkook, feeling overwhelmed. “I don’t understand you at all, Jungkook. Why are being so nice now?”

“It’s…it’s a really long story,” Jungkook sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t justify what I did, but if it means anything to you, I regret everything that happened that night. I didn’t mean a word I said.”

“Then why did you say what you did?”

“Like I said, it’s a long story,” Jungkook replied. “I can explain it to you if you’re willing to listen. I’ll tell you everything, I promise. And if you don’t want to see me after this, I won’t bother you ever again.”

“How do I know that what you’re saying is the truth?” you asked, looking at Jungkook for any signs of deceit.

“You’ll just have to trust me.”

You almost laughed–how could you trust him so easily again? But you remembered the boy who  had slept by your bedside in the hospital, and the boy who acted like you were the most interesting thing in the world. The boy who had promised to sing to you.

“Fine, I’ll listen,” you breathed.

- Girl in Luv

Ok…this took to long. I kind of lost inspiration for this series, but it’s back now! You can expect more regular updates. The story’s drawing to a close…so what do think is going to happen? Also heads up: no posts tomorrow night. We’re going to prom!!! Thanks for reading guys! Ya girl’s gonna get turnt!

Heat of the Moment - Part 2: Awakening

Characters: Reader (Y/N Padalecki), Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki,

Pairing: Jensen x reader, Jared/sister!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral (female receiving), Unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it boys and girls), Angry Moose.   

Word count: 1500ish

A/N: Andi aka @ellen-reincarnated1967 offered to write me another drabble for a series of hers I love, so I told her to pick one of five prompts but my overactive brain made a story of all five prompts. This is part two of a two part story.

2 out of 5 prompts are used in this one and they are bolded if you are curious.

Thanks a billion to @teenage-internet-recluse and @mamapeterson for betaing this for me. You’re awesome girsl :D

MASTERPOST

You squeezed your eyes harder together to keep the sunbeams penetrating the curtains from stabbing your brain. Fuck, it felt as if a herd of rhinos had a dance party in there. You let out a soft moan, trying to move out of the offending sun’s passage and stick your head under the pillow like an ostrich. You instantly froze when you felt a foreign weight wrapped around your middle. 

“Shit!” you thought as you slowly moved to turn your head. The sight that met you, combined with the dull ache between your legs as you moved, made your breath catch in your throat. The man beside you was still asleep with a blissful expression on his face, while your head and heart was tearing your emotions in opposite directions.

What if he regretted this? Fuck he is beautiful. What if Jared find out? Would it be bad to lean in and kiss those pouty lips of his? Dammit Y/N, focus!  

Even if you had no immediate recollection of last night, there was no doubt in your mind what had happened. You were both naked and the delicious soreness between your legs served as a reminder of where the adonis next to you had been.

Keep reading

Your book club is seated around a table. There is tension in the air - someone has voiced a controversial opinion. Someone else has disagreed. You offered your own take on the matter; a few people laughed, a few more nodded their heads thoughtfully or wrote something down. The debate becomes heated. No one can fully agree on the characterization, the execution of the storytelling, the role of the environment, the symbolism in the imagery. Did the author intend for this line to be read as homoerotic subtext? Was the protagonist’s commitment to his quest ultimately his downfall? Did the mid-series change in tone reflect the author’s growing awareness of and empathy towards social inequalities?

Suddenly, there is a gust of wind. The door has swung open! A figure stands silhouetted against the raging storm, shoulders stooped, as if weighed down by weary responsibility. All is silent as you wait for him to speak.

“Shit’s all fake, yo,” he says, grim voice rumbling like the thunder. Then he is gone.

It’s as if you have been plunged into cold water. Your mouth hangs open and your limbs jerk violently - once, twice - before going limp. You feel like a puppet whose strings have finally been cut. Fake? Of course… you must have known that, surely, once upon a time. All your concerns flow out of you, draining out of your brain, leaving you light and refreshed and clear-headed. Fake? Of course. Of course.

You look around, and everyone wears matching expressions of awe and relief. You are finally free. All of you! All because of that brave, mysterious stranger who dared to speak the truth. Everything’s changed now. The book club files out the door and disperses into the grass, staring up into the rolling sky while the rain washes your upturned faces. You are free. Thank god. Thank god.

Gunshot (a sneak peek)

So… This was written way back in January (yikes), when I first started to write the mafia au fic 8 Days a Week and only @kawaiilo-ren and a couple other people have seen it. You might think you’ve seen it before, because Kait is a babe and she’s been drawing the amazing comic of this scene (and murdering me along the way). 

My plan was to keep this private until it was time to publish it on Ao3 but life is short and I actually like this. People will probably forget by the time it’s published there anyway, oops. 

Under the cut because it’s long. 



Hospital hall is looking cold and bleak under the fluorescent lights, like it did many hours ago. Yuri doesn’t remember how long it’s been since he left the building but coming back feels like returning from war, maybe. He doesn’t know what war feels like. It must be exhausting, if it resembles this even slightly. 

Ignoring his shaking hands is easy, as is turning a blind eye to his pulsating head ache. His body is crashing after riding through the adrenaline waves and he would kill for a nap; but that would make the list of things worth killing for longer and he isn’t sure if he is ready to deal with the paperwork. He isn’t ready to deal with anything yet, he just wants to return the weapon to its true owner and fall into a lifelong slumber.

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You Could Have Just Asked

Another Darkiplier fic! 
A little fluff, nothing major really. Maybe some angst? Nothing mentioned but hinted?

I felt like I needed to write something for Dark since I haven’t really focused on just him in a while. 
Enjoy! 

Originally posted by markimemey

Your home seemed…off. 
Something was wrong, Dark could sense that much as he entered your home. 
The air felt heavier than normal. Like some selfish entity had soaked out the warmth from the walls. 
Dark’s form twitched as he searched the house for you. The silence making him uneasy. A strange sensation for one such as him. 
“(Y/N)!” He called out. His lone voice like a thunder-clap through the empty rooms. 
He grinded his teeth, trying to distract his mind from the unpleasant thoughts that clawed at his sanity. 
“(Y/N)! Are you home?” He asked the still hallways. 

No, you should be home. Dark knew your schedule better than you did. He wouldn’t have wasted his time arriving if you weren’t going to be here to welcome him. 

Then, somewhere in the house, he heard a floorboard creak. 

So quiet, he almost mistook the sound for a trick of his rattling thoughts.
He followed the noise to the room he had failed to search. 

Your bedroom. 

He was confused to find you unharmed. You sat by your window, your eyes absent and staring. Thoughtful; but Dark could see the gloom playing with your features. 
“Why didn’t you answer me?” He asked, reining in his anger. 
You glanced at him, your fingers busying themselves with the sleeves of your jumper. 
“I…I didn’t feel like it,” You said, as if it clarified everything. 
Dark’s features twitched, but he pushed down his anger and moved closer to you. 

Why weren’t you smiling? Why were your eyes, once so bright and vibrant, so distant from him? 

“What happened?” Dark asked. “Did someone hurt you?”
The grin you formed was emotionless. There to trick than amuse him.
“Nothing happened. I’m just…not feeling well today.”
Dark’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. His fingers brushed against your forehead, feeling no heat or sweat, he removed his touch with more questions than answers.
“You’re not ill,” He stated. “What is the matter? Let me help, at least.”
You finally looked up at him. Meeting his gaze with an expression Dark couldn’t make out. 

Where was your laughter? That siren song that made his world brighter?

There is no colour in your gaze. What has happened? 

You stood and Dark stepped back. Allowing you to move without his interference in your space. You let your gaze drop to the ground. Examining the shine on his shoes for a moment, trying to form some sort of way to tell him why you were so…you didn’t even have a word to describe it yourself. 

“Can you do something for me, Dark?” You asked. Your voice was so small, so quiet, Dark felt something inside him twist. 
He nodded, “What is it, my dear?” 
“Could you lift up your arms and make a circle?” You asked. 
Dark tilted his head, confused by the request. But obeyed nonetheless. 

You ducked under his intertwined hands and pressed yourself against his chest. As you rested your head on his shoulder, you felt Dark stiffen and hiss quietly. 
It was a few seconds before Dark relaxed, and his arms encircled your body, almost crushing you against him. 

“You could have just asked,” He purred into your hair. You grinned softly into his suit and he squeezed your waist. 
He didn’t understand why, but he could already feel your warmth seeping back into the walls.

Date the fae...

who dance in the thunderstorm. Watch in awe as they move like the wind, their cloudy hair swirling around them as if they are the eye of their own personal hurricane. Date the fae who’s eyes spark like lightening bolts, and who’s voice booms like thunder. Their veins overflow with raindrops, and frost flowers bloom like bruises in the shape of your lips. Date the thunderfae and love them dearly, even when it means saying goodbye to the sun.

Originally posted by behexagusthegreat

Punished

Summary: Very carefully and skillfully, you have been stealing from the Saviors for over a month now. Until one day you allow your ego to get the best of you and you challenge Negan to try and catch you, himself.
Prompt: I had one of the Hide and Seek prompts! I decided to put a twist on it and incorporate more of a cat and mouse type of game.
Word Count: 4,265
Pairing: Negan/Female Reader
Chapter: One-Shot
Warning: NSFW, Smut, Language
Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this took so long to complete! Thank you Ash for extending the deadline. Congrats on 2,000 followers! I’m not sure if I’m 100% happy with this but I hope you enjoy!
Tags: @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @negans-network

“God-fucking damnit!” You heard the loud, thunderous voice of the Saviors leader, Negan, roar out into the woods. “Someone better catch that little fucking thief, TODAY!”

Laughing to yourself, you hurried through the woods, maneuvering your way through the series of trees.

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