Her heart shook with the thunderous truth of it: the world had fallen long before the turning, long before the hungry dead had risen up to devour those who dared yet live. It had not been the hissing of the Serpent, that whispered temptation in the Garden, nor the blinking, bewildered emergence from the forested Paradise. It had not even been the first slaying of kin, brother betraying brother. No, the world had been plunged into darkness the moment man had first placed his fellow man—and woman—in chains.

Bodies and minds, subjugated. Free will, stolen. Man had set his brother into bondage, and in doing so, had imprisoned himself. She’d never been in jail, she’d told him once. She hadn’t realized, hadn’t understood, that long before they had stepped behind those barbed fences, long before they had sheltered within those shadowed halls, they had all been prisoners. Humanity had shackled itself, long ago.

For the first time, she questioned her certainty in the injustice of this unleashed hell. For the first time, she wondered if the world was merely getting what it deserved.

There’s still good people.

No, she corrected herself. There’s only him, now.


A Vision to Behold ~ Tony x Alfie (WIP)

“Erm.. nothing. I… uh…”

“You kept me waiting, darling. Oh! I managed to decipher the manuscript. Page two-thirty-eight contains instructions to create an instrument - something akin to a miniature cannibal star - that is sure to nullify the charges of anything that is a construct of similar constituents; designed to then consume the…”

“Baby, please. Please don’t do this to me.”

“Do what?”

“You can’t be unclad and immersed in water, looking like Nerites himself, and be throwing science at me. It weakens me in every manner.”

“And what if I say: everything you lay your eyes on is for your taking; will you then feel powerful again?”

It’s international fanworks day? Here’s a WIP excerpt from the upcoming final installment of my Junkers series to celebrate!

Junkrat and Roadhog came in on fire from taking down a small Talon installation (and an icecream truck that happened to cross their path on their way out. Tasty.) That creepy Athena program was driving the transport. Junkrat ignored its warnings and cut the wires to open the cargo bay doors while they were still a few meters from landing back at base, and Roadhog drove the bike out at full speed, grabbing Junkrat on the way past. Junkrat climbed onto his back, and they came flying into the Overwatch courtyard.

Nobody but Roadhog could have made that landing, and Junkrat howled like a dingo and threw a couple little poppers in the air to celebrate as they took a victory lap. They made nice big bangs, but they were harmless. Mostly. Unless Junkrat retooled them, which generally took about three seconds hahaha!

“Take another lap!” Junkrat hollered, but Roadhog didn’t listen and took them roaring down to the garage instead to park the bike.

Beatrice swings the axe down hard biting into flesh and bone. I watch with envy, still aching from my turn, swinging the axe.
“Oh Piper.” Beatrice isn’t even short of breath. Her face is splattered with blood and bone, beautifully illuminated by the moonlight.
“He said he changed.” I mumble.
Jared came home drunk with one thing on his mind. When I refused he hit me. This time I hit him back, with the decorative glass paperweight on my nightstand, and I didn’t stop. That was five hours ago.
“Piper, I need your help.” Beatrice pulls me from my reverie, she is awkwardly holding a foot and a plastic bag. I move to help her wrap it and finish up the job. We separate the body into two duffel bags. We wrap the bags in plastic before loading them into our cars
“You go West, I go East.” Beatrice instructs, starting her car. “Don’t stop until you’re at least 50 miles out of town.”
“Thank you.” I say, almost in tears.
“Friends help friends, baby.” Beatrice says with a smile.
I’m pulling out when I hear her yell:
“Let’s go out tonight. Wear something revealing. You are single after all.”

this-is-andavs  asked:

Prompt setting: SPACE.

I see what you’re trying to do. I SEE IT. DON’T THINK I DON’T. (And it worked, because here’s a snippet. I don’t know if it makes any sense out of context, but here y’go anyhow.)

When they’d arrived on Bera, Stiles’ scent had been around him purely by virtue of cohabiting the same space for a period of time, but by the time Derek and Stiles return to the inn on the evening of their third day, Erica’s shooting him sly little grins from behind the bar. Derek doesn’t need to check to know that Stiles’ scent isn’t just on his clothes, anymore – it’s coating his skin: he can still feel the warmth of Stiles’ long fingers on the back of his neck, directing him to look at something; the brush of their arms together as Stiles gesticulated wildly.

 Perhaps the worst part about it is how simple it feels. There’s no awkwardness – Derek’s metaphorical hackles don’t rise when Stiles draws near, and Stiles never tries to treat him with kid gloves, doesn’t ever hesitate to come closer. The idea of hesitation doesn’t even appear to pop into his head, which—well, it’s possible that says more about Stiles than it does about Derek.

 No, Derek realises: the worst part is that he wants. Derek wants Stiles’ hands to linger, wants Stiles to press in close and keep going until there’s no space at all between them. He wants those pretty eyes on him, he wants Stiles’ smart mouth. It’s not just objective appreciation anymore – it’s bordering on full-blown fantasy.

 Derek’s so, so screwed.

Keep reading

Original WIP: Excerpt

I don’t really like to post excerpts of my original writing (it makes me very shy), but this scene has been stuck in my head and doesn’t give away too much. Also, @cloversdreams you’ve shown such love for my OC, Vaughn (thank you so so much!) that I had to post something with him. Also this has Leo! (Who I love with a burning passion btw) I hope you guys like this little bit of writing; it’s a sparring scene between Leo and Vaughn, when Leo was just beginning to train Finn c:

The two teenagers faced each other in the middle of the airship. The breeze combed through Leo’s hair and pulled auburn strands of Vaughn’s across his eyes. Leo forced himself to focus in the hilt in his hand. Yes, he just had to focus on that, and not on Vaughn’s eyes, or the soft curve of his mouth, or the sleek muscle in his skin as he lunged forward—

Shit! Panicking, Leo stumbled backward as he jerked his head back from Vaughn’s swinging blade. Boots fumbling, he heard a chorus of mixed jeers and encouragements from the onlookers. He managed to regain his footing in time to block Vaughn’s next slash with a clang. Vaughn smirked at him over their joined swords. “Distracted?” he asked mischievously.

Leo really hoped he wasn’t blushing. “You wish,” he shot back, and lashed out in a quick strike.

Vaughn moved like water, gliding over the deck as he parried Leo’s blows and returned ones of his own. The two danced around the deck, dodging strikes and blocking others, constantly moving. To Leo, it began to feel smooth, almost choreographed. He was a brilliant sword-fighter, but it was great to have a worthy challenger. Especially if that challenger was his blindingly handsome shipmate. Confidence rising, he sent the tip of his sword toward Vaughn’s head. Faster than a blink, Vaughn bent his body back, dodging while he lashed out at Leo.

“Whoa!” Leo exclaimed as he jumped back, narrowly missing a cut to his stomach. “You trying to kill me here?”

Vaughn twirled his sword lazily. “Maybe you wouldn’t have to worry about that if you were better,” he taunted.

“He got you there, Leo!” Hans called out.

“Not helping, Hans!” Narrowing his eyes, Leo decided to try a different tactic. He darted toward Vaughn, close enough for the other boy to raise his sword defensively. There was the ring of metal as Leo warded off the blow and dropped, sliding behind Vaughn in a crouch. Victory alight in him, he brought his sword down fast.

To his shock, Vaughn whirled around with inhuman speed to meet his blow with one of his own. He didn’t stop there either; the slashes kept coming, fast and hard. Vibrations traveled up Leo’s arm with every strike. He found himself trapped in a steady rhythm of avoiding Vaughn’s hits and returning ones of his own, each movement of his sword knocked away with barely a glance. But he was moving forward now, not back. Vaughn’s back faced a crowd of watching crew. Exclaiming over the fight, the shipmates scattered to either side to give the mock-fight more room.

“Give up yet?” Leo asked between the scrape of steel.

Vaughn lifted a hand up in a half-shrug, nonchalantly parrying Leo’s sword with his other hand. “You should know me better by now, Leo,” he replied. “I don’t give in easily.” The dark tone should’ve been a warning, but Leo didn’t catch it until it was too late.

Suddenly, Vaughn fell into a smooth crouch, a booted foot sweeping into Leo’s right leg. Gasping, Leo staggered in a desperate attempt to stay upright and ended up tripping over his own feet. Before he knew it, Vaughn had switched their positions and was right in front of him, blade flashing as it sliced toward his neck. He got his sword up at the last minute. Their blades hit and Vaughn pushed, forcing Leo back against the rail of the deck. The harsh grating of metal raked the air as their swords crisscrossed between them. Vaughn had him pinned. A loud cheer of satisfaction surged from the crew at the ended fight.

Breathing raggedly, the two remained there for a minute. Leo’s mind was reeling from how flawlessly Vaughn had fought and the speed with which he’d stopped the battle in its tracks. The railing pressed into the middle of his back, but he didn’t care. The hard wood was a stark contrast to the warm press of Vaughn’s body at his front. Their legs were nearly tangled, hips touching, joined by their blades meeting between them. Vaughn’s eyes were closer to Leo’s than they’d ever been and now Leo could see that they were all shades of yellow, from honeyed sunshine to dark amber.

Vaughn’s lips tilted up into a smile and Leo realized that he’d been staring at his mouth. “Not bad,” Vaughn remarked, the breathiness of his voice sending a shiver down Leo’s spine.

“Not bad yourself,” Leo replied. He was so caught up in that smile. He had to grin back, flushed from their fight, and their closeness.

Excerpt: work in progress

I guess I’m posting this because I need to see that it’s progressing. Been a discouraging week for this writer. The original intent of this blog was for me to post daily output and track progress. So … yeah.

Part of a thing. Next chapter of Time Stand Still.

He reaches out, brushing the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, his eyes asking the silent question.

She nods emphatically, reaching for his hands, twining their fingers together. “Oh, yes,” she says assuredly. “Yes. This. Yes!”

They kiss and her hands are on his face, the backs of her fingers tracing the slight stubble on his cheeks. She revels in the rasp of it, the sounds he makes that reverberate through his chest and her own where their bodies meet. His breath, punctuated by kisses, is hot on her cheeks, her throat. He is her reality - her present and future - as his hands travel up under her nightshirt, lifting the hem past her hips, his warm palms on her skin chasing the nightmare away.

“Take it off,” she gasps, raising her arms above her head. As he lifts the garment off, his fingertips caress all the skin they come in contact with. She does not avert her gaze, watching as his eyes take her in, bare but for her panties. She can feel his reaction against the inside of her thigh through his pajama trousers and she slides her hands round his shoulders and down his back, pressing, pulling him to her, skin on skin

I hope people are ready for at least 10K of college!AU Sciles, where Scott is pre-vet and Stiles is Undecided Major; and there is stuff and things going on.

“I don’t think we should room together,” Scott says over lunch, a week after their acceptance letters came. They’re sitting at Stiles’ dining room table, paperwork spread out between them, sharing leftover Hawaiian pizza. 

Stiles feels his throat close up, and his heart literally stops. Scott doesn’t want to room with him?

mollywaddle  asked:

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ EVERY ONE YOU HAVE TYVM

omg molly (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) u r such a patoot (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) (ziall wip where zayn has a motorbike and niall’s in his last year of hs that’s it that’s the whole thing)

“What the fuck are you playing at, mate?” the man asks, frowning.

Niall swallows and uncrosses his eyes because a) he almost just fucking died, okay, because some asshole wasn’t looking where he was driving his grossly illogical and sexy death trap like a maniac and b) he’s currently pushed up against a van by said angry, leather-clad motorbike-owning asshole. Niall blinks and doesn’t understand where all this righteous anger is coming from – Niall’s the one that barely escaped being splattered on the sidewalk. He gathers enough sense to pull his school jumper out of the man’s grip.

“Are you okay?” the man asks belatedly, an apologetic look replacing his irritated expression, eyes dark and huge. Niall can see each individual eye lash from where he’s still pressed up against the van and hopes to god he’s not blushing like a twelve year old girl.

“Yeah, shit, I’m fine,” Niall says, shaking himself out of it because the man’s looking at him like Niall might be suffering from a concussion.

“Are you sure?” Zayn asks and finally steps back.

He undoes all the good it does, reaching for Niall’s arm and wrapping his whole hand around his wrist, fingers pressing firm against his bone to get a better look at the scratch at his elbow. It’s ripped through the jumper but it’s not even bleeding that badly. He didn’t even notice.

“Hey, how old are you?” Zayn asks, frowning at him again. Niall’s about to answer but he asks, “Do I need to call your parents?” and the “Fuck you, mate,” slips out before he has a chance to.

There’s a lull before Zayn’s smiling reluctantly, amused by Niall apparently, and he lets go of him abruptly.

“I’m eighteen,” Niall says, tilting his chin up and just on this side of defensive. “What are you, like forty?” Niall asks and he can’t really keep it up, caving and starting to laugh.

Zayn shakes his head and tries to roll his eyes but he’s grinning as well. “Don’t have wrinkles yet, love.”

flimsi  asked:


lilo wip in step brothers!au

“I’m not jealous! I just want to know why you’re moving in with him - Zayn’s nice, move in with him!” Liam says and can hear Louis rustling around behind him, wandering over to his chair so he can lean over the back of it, wrapping his arms around Liam’s neck.

Liam tilts his head to the side when he noses at the sensitive skin of his neck, sighing already. “You’ve never dated Zayn,” Liam mutters darkly under his breath and his hand clenches around his pen again and he’s refocusing, trying to write the next sentence. 

“You are jealous,” Louis crows in delight and bites down against the curve of his neck, scraping his teeth lightly against the skin until Liam shudders. “It’s just Haz, he’s like a brother to me.”

Liam turns his head to glare at him because look how being brothers with Liam had turned out and Louis can’t help laughing at the look on his face. Louis kisses his neck softly in apology and Liam sighs, his tense shoulders relaxing back onto Louis. 

“It’d be nice, don’t you think? And you can come over all the time,” Louis says, leaning forward to peck kisses onto his lips. “And stay the night.” he says and Liam surges up, twisting around in his seat, getting a hand behind Louis neck to slant their mouths together properly.

“And I won’t have to try and convince you to fuck me before the ‘rents get home instead of studying,” Louis says against his lips, climbing into his lap.

Excerpt. The One That Got Away….


Liam was seconds away from exposing himself as a liar among his friends. He stood there in shock, clutching his cocktail so hard it was a wonder the glass didn’t crack right there in his grip. In the back of his cloudy mind he wishes it would shatter cutting him open in the process. He could use that as an excuse to leave this party that, up to a few moments ago, he was enjoying immensely. The reason for his panicky state and erratic heartbeat was just across the room, looking as breathtaking as ever and trying but failing to avoid looking Liam’s way.

Zayn. HIS ZAYN. Well…no. Not his Zayn anymore. He’d made sure of that years ago, hand’t he? He’d foolishly allowed that beautiful boy, now gorgeous man, to walk out of his life in what would surely go down in history as the stupidest move by anyone anywhere on the planet. They’re probably going to put that on his headstone someday: ‘Here lies Liam Payne. The stupid man who let Zayn Malik get away! He never recovered and lived a miserable life’. Yes, that’s how it should read because that would be the actual truth, not the lie he’d been telling himself and everyone around him for the last ten years.

The truth was that after breaking Zayn’s heart in a misguided attempt at independence and freedom, life hadn’t gone exactly according to plan. Yes, he was finally a success in his career but it had been an arduous and bleak journey without the sunshine that Zayn brought to his daily life up to then. He missed him. God, how he missed him! He was still in love with him. It was pointless to deny it especially right now when Zayn’s eyes finally met his and Liam felt a tremor race across his body. He nervously downed the remainder of his drink. It was all he could figure to do. What now? Should he talk to him? Act civil and nonchalant, as if Zayn wasn’t still the standard by how he measured every potential partner he’d ever had, essentially sealing their fate.

Liam watched Zayn mingle amongst the crowd instead, not being able to tear his eyes away from the man of his dreams for more than a few moments. Even Harry’s ridiculous storytelling couldn’t engage Liam for more than a minute or so. Zayn was exceptional in every way. Liam noticed how he still made heads turn everywhere he went. The way his lips moved, that smile that lit up the room….all exceptional but it was his eyes….those lovely amber eyes that haunted Liam the most! The way Liam saw himself reflected in Zayn’s eyes used to fill him with confidence and made him think he could conquer the world. He couldn’t believe it’d been ten years since he last had that feeling. Liam didn’t believe in fate but seeing Zayn tonight, here of all places, had to mean something, right? 

He made up his mind to approach Zayn right then and there. He couldn’t let what could be his second chance slip from his fingers but he couldn’t help and wonder if Zayn would ever look at him the same way again

plinys  asked:

♥ ~

From the moment their eyes met, he felt instantly drawn to her. Normally, he refrained from talking to women as a general principle, but something about this girl called him forward. He remembered the way his heart pounded as he approached her, hoping furiously with every fiber of his being that she spoke English, relieved beyond measure at the discovery that she, in fact, was American and even more so by the fact that she seemed to be genuinely taken with his own personal awkward brand of charm and wit.

As a man of logic, Leo Fitz was not a believer in fate at any rate, not in the same way Skye believed, but if there were such a thing as destiny at all, he was certain that getting lost that day was his. 

anonymous asked:

lilo wip at the judge’s house when louis gets stung by the sea urchin idk shhh

“Louis,” he starts but Louis cuts him off abruptly.

“I can do it,” he says and winces again, his eyes squeezing shut. “I’m not going to ruin your chances, okay? Just leave it.”

Liam gapes at him for a little while and feels a hot stab of hurt. He grabs Louis’ hand so he’s not tugging his shirt out of shape and glares at him steadfastly when he turns to him in surprise. He lets Liam hold his hand though, looking bewildered all the same.

“I wasn’t worried you were going to ruin my chances,” Liam says crossly and pointedly does not wince when Louis squeezes his hand hard. 

Louis still looks mostly surprised because Liam hasn’t really adjusted to all the hugs and lickings and nudeness associated with being in a band but here he is holding Louis’ hand. Louis just nods and squeezes his hand again but it’s less from the pain and more in assurance.

“It doesn’t hurt that much,” Louis says through gritted teeth and Liam can obviously tell he’s lying. “S’nothing.”

“C’mon Louis, it’s just me,” Liam says, turning his head to make sure none of the boys have come back yet. 

“Okay, yeah, it fucking hurts,” Louis gasps suddenly and Liam surges forward, worried that it’s getting worse with the way Louis’ face is contorting in pain. 

He doesn’t know what drives him to do it but he leans forward and kisses Louis on the cheek then quickly again at the corner of his mouth. It seems to work though, his shoulders relaxing back onto the bed, more in shock than anything else, and when Liam pulls back Louis just raises an eyebrow at him.

“My mum used to kiss me like that when I got hurt,” Liam says defensively, flushing under Louis gaze.

“I’m not complaining,” Louis says and lifts his chin, presenting the side of his face for more kisses.

wip in crack au where liam and louis are princesses and need to get married because of reasons (to do with the kingdom and stuff umm u shut up)

That’s until Princess Louis tumbles out from behind her guards as if she’s been pushed forward, soaked to her bones in rain water, her dress soiled with mud. The first thing Liam notices is her hair. It’s shorter than most princesses would have it; it’s turned kind of spiky in the rain and falls into her eyes. Liam thinks she might be maybe baring her teeth underneath.

“We are honoured to -,” her father starts to say but Louis flips her wet hair out of her face and Liam kind of needs to take a breath. She’s not that pretty, she tries to tell herself, quite a pointy face, sharp chin and the bluest eyes she’s ever seen, a fairly plain (cute) button nose and her chest is heaving underneath her wet dress like she’s just stopped running.

“What a pleasure it is to finally meet you,” Liam says courteously, drops into a curtsey so she’s not staring at her betrothed’s chest.

Louis doesn’t return the favour, she crosses her arms and shivers, dropping rain water and mud all over the great hall and refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. 

Zayn sidles up to her when Louis is escorted out to change for dinner.

“She jumped out of the carriage and tried to run away,” she says, raising both eyebrows as if impressed.

“I’m not that homely. She didn’t have to go that far,” Liam says grumpily, feels like she hasn’t even been given a chance. 

Have a random WIP excerpt, sort of inspired by this picture. (Normal-world AU with early 30s Will.)

Hannibal was unpacking boxes when he came across a dusty photo of himself—god, who had even taken it?—that instantly made him chuckle. It was a black and white shot of his face, smoldering and overly dramatic, jaw resting on his hand, bare shoulders visible, dark hair falling across his forehead like an aspiring rock star. Will came up behind him and Hannibal turned, smirking, and handed him the photo. 

But Will didn’t laugh. “Oh my god, wow,” he said, taking the picture in his hands and looking it over with delight. “Wow. God, you’re so gorgeous.”

Hannibal swallowed. He certainly didn’t look like that anymore.

“When was this?” Will asked.

“That was about … twenty years ago,” Hannibal answered, knowing full well it was a bit more than twenty.

“Twenty, wow,” Will said again. He was still staring at it. He bit his lip.

“Maybe you ought to hold onto that,” Hannibal teased.

Will looked up at him, finally, and smiled, coming toward him and embracing him from the side. “I’d rather hold onto the real thing.”

Hannibal returned his embrace. “Ah-ha, that’s very smooth.”

“It sounded smooth in my head,” Will confessed, with pride. Laughing, he pulled Hannibal into a kiss.

dulosis  asked:

(ziam imagine me & you!au)

they’re just lying there, breathing together quietly in unison. their shoulders are pressed together, heat bleeding through the cloth and encircling the both of them, the backs of their hands barely touching. it feels shockingly intimate, sacred.

liam starts talking, his voice hoarse and soft as if they’ve just made love and it startles zayn. zayn turns to make out his expression, wants to see it on his face too but liam’s got an arm across his eyes.

“imagine,” liam says, and he sounds terrified, “imagine in a different universe.”

zayn understands what liam means. 

“or a different time.”

imagine if we met at a different point in our lives. imagine our lives in an alternate universe. imagine. because that’s all we can do for now.

(liam/louis wip from the skins!au that’s probably going to end up being a follow up short drabble-y thing) also i’m tagging these as ‘wip excerpt’ to blacklist if u don’t want to see it on ur dash (◡‿◡✿)

most mornings liam wakes up to louis’ heat bleeding into his side, too hot and stuffy even with the window thrown open halfway through the night. louis however seems perfectly comfortable sleeping eagle-spread, half on top of liam and the other half falling off the edges of his single bed. he’s come to find his heavy weight comforting. 

sometimes liam wakes up slowly, drifting in and out of consciousness for a while to finally find louis watching him. he doesn’t know if it’s the cloud of sleep but he can’t make out the look on louis’ face, can’t compartmentalize it carefully into something that would make sense before louis is swooping down to hide against the curve of his neck.

he mouths against his skin softly and liam thinks he can almost hear him say thank you for waking up today.


louis has dreams - nightmares - where the last words liam ever says to him are let go, it’s alright.

and sometimes, when louis’ fighting to open his own eyes, liam doesn’t wake up. sometimes he does. sometimes he does but it’s not liam and they’re lying in bed together, head to toe, and louis can’t speak he’s so fucking terrified.