pure spun gold

the signs as fairies

Aries: adorns herself in red silk with shimmering wings the color of fire. can be found in environments with fire or heat, like volcanoes. is immune to the heat. can manipulate and create fire and spends her days playing with phoenixes and friends she creates out of burning embers. usually has swirling gold tattoos.

Taurus: a gentle fairy who can be found in forests. she spends her time playing with forest animals and making flower chains. she wears clothes made out of pieces of cloth she finds and always has some type of flower in her hair. her wings are soft as a feather, translucent and give off a golden glow. she can talk to animals, and she attracts them wherever she goes.

Gemini: the ultimate trickster. very petite, with razor sharp blue wings. she almost always wears a hat that covers her dark tresses. she wears a short dress with high boots. she is never without her staff. covered in her trinkets, her staff is her main tool to help her practice voodoo. other fairies come to her for potions and spells, but beware, she will turn on you if it benefits her.

Cancer: can most often be found in water. everything about her is silvery blue, from her skin to her hair to her eyes. she looks like she is made of moonlight. she only comes out at night, to sing songs to the moon. her wings are made of millions of tiny water droplets, but she rarely shows them. she can craft moonlight into beautiful pieces of art.

Leo: if you ever manage to get a glimpse of this fairy, the first thing you’ll notice about her is her hair. her thick red curls spiral out everywhere. considering wings are sacred to this type of fairy, it’s no surprise that hers are extravagant. like the wings of a monarch butterfly, her wings are especially strong, even though they look especially fragile. her clothes are made out of autumn leaves she finds in the woods where she lives. she usually has leaves decorating her hair. her favorite pastime is playing with the butterflies she shares her home with.

Virgo: like Leo, this fairy has wings like a butterfly, but hers are shades of deep blue and rich green. she looks delicate, but will defend her home fiercely. she wears clothes she creates from natural materials, and will typically have flowers in her hair. she spends her days protecting her home from humans and predators alike.

Libra: this dainty fairy spends her time high in the clouds. wears clothes made of pure white feathers and clouds. though she doesn’t have wings, she has a naturally ability to control air, and uses that to her advantage. she is an amazing dancer and spends her time dancing in the clouds to beautiful music only she can hear. 

Scorpio: the rumors surrounding this fairy are plenty. with her swirling black tattoos, dark hair, and leathery, deep purple and blue wings, she intimidates most who venture into her home, which is how she likes it. skilled in the most ancient magic, she spends her days making potions for those willing to pay the price. 

Sagittarius: perhaps the most daring fairy, her favorite pastime is to give humans glimpses of her, but she never shows her face. she only comes out when the leaves are changing colors. she wears a dress spun from pure gold, with a beautiful crown made out of golden feathers. her wings look like feathers but are actually very sharp, and are also gold. her favorite trick is, once you get a glimpse of her, she hides herself among the leaves until you go mad looking for her.

Capricorn: no human has ever gotten a look at this fairy, who is always found in cold environments. cold as ice, she’s as small as the snowflakes she crafts. her crystallized wings are more beautiful than any snowflake, and she wears a dress and jewelry crafted out of pure ice. her silver hair matches the color of her eyes. 

Aquarius: one of the rarest fairies, every part of her is silver, except her fragile, translucent wings. she only comes out during a full moon and is found in quiet, moonlit forests. she wears a dress made out of silvery moonlight. her favorite accessory is a crown made out of moonflowers. 

Pisces: this fairy frequents vast meadows, looking for a flower to make her home in. she makes her beautiful dresses out of stray flower petals she finds. her huge, butterfly-like wings are as big as she is. her most prized possession is her wooden flute, which she can use to call animals to her.

based off of this post

Do You Feel It?

A/N: I absolutely LOVE the “seeing wings = soulmates!” troupe. However, the fics I’ve come across for Gabriel always seem to have him getting super excited super quickly. I feel like it would be a more emotional moment that takes a moment to adjust to. I wanted to see him vulnerable and flustered. Here’s my take on the idea of wings and soulmates. 
Pairing: Gabriel/Reader 
Warnings: fluffy fluff 
Synopsis: “Angles have this…thing. About angels. And angel wings.”
Gabriel. The name was familiar, obviously. Besides perhaps Lucifer, he was the most well known Angel, even if I hadn’t been raised Christian. I’d learned about the Archangel Gabriel in the same breath I’d learned about Jesus, seeing how he announced Jesus’s existence to the Virgin Mary. His name was spoken in a reverence by every religious figure I’d met growing up, he was a biblical fixture in my life. Which is why I was left a bit short for words when Sam and Dean announced his impending arrival with undisguised disdain.
“Gabriel. THE Gabriel. Is coming here? To help us with a hunt?”
Sam gave a disgruntled sigh, “yeah. Hopefully he won’t be here long and we won’t have to deal with him too much.”
I knew the stories about the boys’ run-ins with the angel. As much of a show as they put on, they didn’t seem to hate him as much as they hated some of the other angels. There was a deep-seated distrust and vague annoyance, but their faces didn’t darken at his name like it did with others, which I took to be a good sign.
Honestly, I loved the stories about Gabriel. While misguided, he seemed to have a good heart and sense of humor. I mean, come on, trapped in TV? It’s the single-greatest prank I’d ever heard of. The Mystery Spot mess was perhaps a little overboard, but the point he was tying to make to Sam was with good intention. Surely he’d redeemed himself, at least somewhat, in their eyes when he helped them against Lucifer. It had broken my heart to think he’d almost died, even though I’d never met him. It was several years later that the boys found me hunting a rugaroo solo and had taken me in. I’d been with them for about a year now, so it surprised me that I hadn’t met Gabriel. I was quite looking forward to it, much to the apparent annoyance on the Winchesters’ faces. If they’d expected me to be sulky about this interesting turn of events and expansion into my hunting life, they were sorely disappointed.
“(Y/n) really, he’s not that big of a deal, and if you act like he is, it’s going to go straight to his head and make him even more of an annoying jerk than he already is.”
Dean piped up, “Not to mention he did technically kill me, like, a lot. No matter what funny façade he presents, you can’t afford to forget how dangerous he can be. In fact…maybe it’s best if you aren’t here when he comes. The less he knows about you, the better, if you ask me.”
“Are you kidding me, Dean?” I turned to Sam, who had an expression that was starting to mirror Dean’s. “Sam, you’ve got to be kidding me! I am a grown woman, the two of you are not my keepers!” They may have taken the place of surrogate brothers in my life, but they most certainly did not have any authority over me. “If I want to meet the infamous Archangel Gabriel, I will, and you cannot stop me. Dean, no-” Dean had opened his mouth, about to argue. “I was hunting for YEARS before I met the two of you. I’ve met every monster imaginable and my religion is one of the only things I’ve held on to from my pre-hunting life. I’ve been around Cas a ton and hell, I’ve literally met Mr. Call Me Chuck himself! You say Gabriel has information that could help us, by Chuck, I’m going to be there to meet him with you and there’s nothing you can do about it!” I finished, a little childishly, just short of stomping my foot and sticking out my tongue.
“This one’s firey, I like her. Where’d you find her?”
Startled, the three of us whipped around. Standing in the middle of the library behind us was a (rather attractive) man. He was much shorter than the boys, but a couple inches taller than me. He had golden blonde hair and caramel-colored eyes that seemed to constantly sparkle like he was mid-laugh. His face was upturned in an amused smirk. He noticed me watching him and gave me a wink. “Gabriel, Archangel of the Lord, but I believe you’ve figured that out.” He turned to the boys, “No holy fire? No pre-drawn angel banishing sigils? Boys, I don’t know whether to be disappointed in your lack of preparedness or impressed with your increasing capacity for trusting people. What can I do you for?”
The boys begrudgingly began explaining to Gabriel the details of the case. We suspected the witch we’d been tracking had somehow gotten hold of a Hand of God. With Gabriel’s attention fixed on the boys (or, mostly fixed. Every so often he would glance at me, almost like he was sizing me up. It was both intriguing and intimidating) I took a moment to examine the most incredible feature of my new acquaintance: the six massive golden wings protruding from his shoulder blades. They seemed to fill the entire room. They looked like they were spun with pure gold. Not only did they reflect light, they seemed to radiate light and warmth. There was an edge of one of the wings near me. I resisted the urge to reach out and stroke it. I wanted to know if they were as soft as they looked, but I didn’t want to overstep any weird angel boundaries. I couldn’t help but be a little confused. I’d been around Cas a hundred times. I’d met Hannah and Balthazar. Why had they kept their wings hidden? Gabriel seemed to be proud of his, showing them off like he was. Every so often he would give them a gentle shake, as if he was adjusting them, causing the light to ripple down his feathers. The effect was mesmerizing. If Cas’ wings were half as beautiful, surely he’d want to show them off, too.
“–(y/n)? (Y/n), you there?” I shook my head a little and turned to the three pairs of eyes watching me, waiting for a response. I wasn’t sure whether or not mentioning an angel’s wings was acceptable or appropriate, so I decided to keep my thoughts on their beauty to myself.
“Sorry, I got lost in thought for a minute there. What were you saying?”
Dean replied, “we were saying that we need hard proof before we go charging in, just in case this is the real deal. You ready to tank this bitch tomorrow?”
“Sure,” I replied. “The three of us? Or…all of us?” I tried to ask innocently, glancing at Gabriel. With all my heart I wanted Gabriel to be there, too. However, I had only just met the man. I hadn’t even spoken to him yet. Why I so desperately wanted him to stay I didn’t know and I didn’t want to be…weird. Gabriel was watching me, dear Chuck I hoped he wasn’t reading my mind.
“You, me, and Dean tomorrow,” came Sam’s reply. “We need to cover our bases and find out everything we can about what we’re dealing with tonight. If this truly is a Hand of God, we need to be prepared.”
“I’ll be on standby,” Gabriel added. “Just a quick prayer and I’m there. Now, who’s hungry?”
Gabriel ended up spending the afternoon at the bunker. After he popped in six pizzas (two topped with chocolate sauce and candy. It looked awful but according to him “candy goes good with everything”) Gabriel half-helped the boys research and half-spent his time talking to me. I tried to help research with the boys, but I couldn’t help myself talking to Gabriel. There was this strange pull I was feeling toward the angel. Perhaps it’s because he’s an archangel. Against my normal thorough hunter’s training, my head was only halfway in the researching while he sat across from me talking about his favorite biblical misconceptions and telling me stories about the boys from before I’d met them.
“Here’s a thought,” I said two hours later after closing the book I’d been attempting to read from. “Why don’t we simply…ask Chuck?”
“Well, we don’t exactly have him on speed-dial,” replied Sam.
“Besides,” added Dean, “He split after the whole Amara thing, remember? ‘The world has you’ and all that bullshit. I doubt he’d answer even if we could call him.” I nodded my head, conceding to the reasonable argument. I grabbed another book and pulled it toward me. I could feel eyes on me. I looked up and my eyes met Gabriel’s. He was watching me with an intensity that almost made me uncomfortable. Instead of opening the book, I stood up, breaking eye contact.
“I need some fresh air. I’m going for a walk.”
The boys didn’t look up from the books they were engrossed in. Dean grunted and Sam gave a vague wave of acknowledgment. Determinedly not looking at the angel, I grabbed my jacket and walked across the room and up the stairs to the door. Making sure I had my key, I stepped out into the cool evening air.
I took a deep breath and began walking. I barely paid attention to where I was headed, vaguely west toward the sunset. I had walked a radius around the bunker of a few miles in every direction during the year I’d spent here and my feet took me to one of my favorite spots: a small clearing in a grove of trees on a hillside, perfect for watching the sunset. I sat down and surveyed my surroundings. The air was definitely helping me clear my head. What was wrong with me? It was like Gabriel was clogging my senses, making my head fuzzy and warm. It was a strangely comfortable suffocation, one that was equal parts invited and confusing as hell. I had literally only met him this afternoon! I had never developed feelings for anyone this quickly, especially feelings this strong! It didn’t make any sense!
“You feel it too, don’t you?”
I stood up quickly, turning to the voice behind me. I relaxed immediately once I saw Gabriel. Which was also wrong! I was a hunter! What was I doing relaxing at the sight of a potentially dangerous creature that I barely knew? Gabriel seemed to read the mix of emotions on my face.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I…don’t think I even could. I have this…weird pull toward you. Am I crazy? Do you feel it?”
It was almost unnerving seeing him so vulnerable, asking for reassurance. The stories I’d read and learned about for as long as I could remember were of this mythical and intimidating figure of Heaven. The stories the boys had told me were of this powerful and annoyingly pretentious asshole. The man before me was…a man.
He reached his hand up to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable with my silence. His wings twitched, causing the light from the setting sun to dance with the golden luminescence of his feathers. The movement caught my eye, which he noticed. His hand froze on his neck and his eyes widened. I met his eyes and his eyebrows cinched, mouth slightly agape. He shook one of his wings purposefully. I glanced toward the movement and back to his face, confusion I’m sure was evident on mine. His hand dropped from his neck and he released a long breath he had been holding. He took a step backward as if in shock and asked in a quiet voice, “…you can see them, can’t you?”
Slowly, I nodded. “Gabriel…why can I see your wings, but not Castiel’s? Hannah’s? Balthazar’s? Do they keep theirs hidden?”
Gabriel’s focus on me was intense as he seemed to gather himself. He cleared his throat and took a couple steps toward me. His hands looked like they were attempting to reach out and take my arms, but he was holding himself back. “Um…no. Not technically. There’s this…thing. About angels. And angel wings. Even we can’t see each other’s wings.”
This surprised me, but it only deepened my confusion. Angels couldn’t see each other’s wings? So, why could I?
“I guess that’s not entirely true,” he amended. “In certain…circumstances, we can. It’s simply one of those things. Showing your wings is kinda like showing your privates. It’s an intimate thing. Only reserved for special…partners…” he trailed off. I stepped toward him. We were inches apart. The fuzziness in my head was starting to return, along with a strange clarity.
“Partners?” I pressed.
“Well, more like…mates. Like…soul mates. It sounds cheesy, but only an angel’s soul mate is able to see an angel’s wings. You can’t see Castiel’s because he’s not your soulmate.”
“But I can see yours. So that must mean…”
“Yeah.” He closed the distance between us, allowing his hands to wrap around my back and hold me closer to him for a fiercely passionate kiss. I returned it with fervor. His hands trailed up my arms to cradle my face. My hands found their way to his hips and our bodies pressed against one another. Every cell in my body was on fire. Every ounce of my being was screaming how perfect this felt, how natural and overwhelmingly right. I wanted to kiss him for the rest of my life.
I started to giggle while we kissed. He broke away and rested his forehead against mine. “What, in the name of my father, could be so funny at a moment like this?” He teased.
I grinned at him. “I’m standing on a hill in a field kissing THE literal archangel Gabriel whom happens to somehow be my soulmate. If my mother could see me now…” he chuckled and kissed my nose. His wings, unbeknownst to me, had wrapped around us, forming a sort of cocoon around us both. I started to reach my hand toward the feathers close to me, but stopped. I glanced at Gabriel, who gave an almost imperceptible nod of permission. I continued my reach and stroked the feathers. They felt like clouds woven into a fabric. Their softness was indescribable and the warmth was comforting to the touch. Gabriel let out a hissing gasp the moment I made contact. I pulled my hand away and looked to him immediately, terrified that I had somehow managed to hurt him. He noticed my distress and kissed my forehead.
“It’s okay. I’ve just…never felt anyone touch my wings before. It’s like if you suddenly had nerve endings in your hair. It’s startling, but extremely pleasant.”
Just then, my cellphone began to buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
“The boys seem to be getting worried…how long have we been out here?” I couldn’t see the sunset behind Gabe’s wings. When he pulled them back, I learned that not only had the sun gone down long ago, but the heat radiating from his wings had effectively blocked off the chill of the night. I was immediately onslaught by cold air and wrapped my arms around myself, shivering at the temperature difference. Gabriel noticed and held me in his arms.
“Hold on tight, sugar,” he whispered in my ear before snapping us into the bunker’s living room. Dean and Sam, who had been sitting on the couch and in an armchair respectively, both jumped up as we materialized in front of them, concern evident in their faces. Concern that quickly turned into confusion and apprehension as they took in the protective and possessive way Gabriel was standing with his arms around me, and the comfortable way I was leaning my back against his front. Dean’s eyebrow slowly raised as he caught my eye.
Grinning sheepishly, I looked at the two of them and said, “boys…you may want to sit down. I believe you both need a break from research and there’s some…things….that need to be talked about.”

anonymous asked:

My crush has hair spun of pure gold down to her waist and her smile is brighter than the sun and she's the gentlest, most well mannered person you'll ever meet. She's one of the few of my peers who manage to see behind my sarcastic mask and she might just be a friend right now but I still call her "My lady" because she holds herself like a princess and I love to hear her laugh when I awkwardly smirk and bow because she knows that I have trouble showing affection to my friends but doesn't mind it

i want someone to describe me to others like this :’)

The Arms of the Enemy

@snowandbaz here you go XD

it’s really long im sorry but i hope you like it

Baz is good at his job.

He’s only ever given one on the ship, anyway.

“Watch the slaves. Especially the newer ones. They need to be broken in.” Captain Grimm would order.

“Yessir!” Baz would chirp.

“And if you can get us a reason to whip them… I won’t be complaining. You hear? If you do well enough, you might even move up on this slaver.”

“Of course, sir!”

And Baz never has trouble doing it. Sneering at them, insulting them, starving them, kicking them, provoking them until they snap back at him and then watching them get whipped for it. They’re all terrible people. That’s what the captain always says, and Baz believes him. Why wouldn’t he? Everything the captain says is true. They’re despicable. Less than human. They deserve the whippings. He’s never ever had reason to question the captain, and he’s not going to start.

“New batch of slaves coming in. You know what to do.”


It’s the same as always in the beginning. The screaming, the yelling, the ferocity of their anger. It always dies away after a while.

The only different one is the boy. He looks almost like Baz’s age, with clear blue eyes and bright bronze hair that shines even in the faint, dirty lantern light inside of the ship. He doesn’t say a word. Even when Baz flings his worst at him, he doesn’t budge. But even so, he can see the blazing, fiery fury

“You’re a resilient one,” Baz spits angrily. But he can’t keep out the grudging respect in his voice. No one else has ever held out this long.

The bronze haired boy glares back at him.

“Who are you?” Baz asks, before he could think better.

“I’m Simon Snow,” he says, the first words that Baz has ever heard him speak. “Who the hell are you?”

“Baz,” he replies. But somehow, instead of “Grimm,” the last name that pops out of his mouth is “Pitch.” A name that he hasn’t allowed himself to speak for a long, long time.

Snow doesn’t say anything, but Baz can see the surprise flitting across his face at the sound of his name. Pitch? he can almost hear him think. Like Natasha Pitch?

Baz makes a concerted effort to avoid speaking to the Snow boy again. There’s no use talking to slaves. He’ll get sold soon, anyway. But somehow, there’s something about that boy, the fighting spirit in his eyes, that reminds him of days long past.

You’re my fiery young boy, she’d always say. Don’t ever let that go.

I’m not that boy anymore, he thinks bitterly.

One day, a customer comes aboard the slaver to take a look at the wares. The captain leads him around, showing him the best specimen. He pauses in front of Snow.

“A healthy, young man,” he says delightfully. “What a catch!” He prizes open Snow’s mouth and checks his teeth with his fingers. Snow’s eyes radiate pure anger – it’s a wonder no one else sees it.

Don’t do anything stupid, Baz finds himself thinking. Please. He tries to communicate with his eyes but –

Snow snaps his jaw shut and bites off his fucking finger.

He spits it out like a tooth and the man is screaming bloody murder and the captain already has his whip out and Baz just wants everything to stop–

The captain escorts the screeching customer off the ship and pays him to compensate for his injuries. Then he comes back with his whip out and for the first time, Baz feels sick to his stomach at the sight of the thing, the sleek, black coil that has seen more blood than anything else on this ship.

And before he can stop himself, he steps in front of Snow.

“Wait!” He yells.

“Baz!” The captain snaps. “What are you doing? Get the hell out of the way!”

“Don’t hurt Snow!”

As soon as he says it, he knows it was the wrong thing. Captain Grimm narrows his eyes. “The number one rule on this slaver is to never learn the names of the slaves. Don’t you know that, Baz?!”

“I –”

“ENOUGH.” His voice booms. “If you love talking to your slaves so much, then you should live with them!”

“C-Captain –!”

But it’s too late. The captain shoves him into Snow’s cage and locks the door.

“Wait! Please!”

“This is for your own good, Baz,” the captain says firmly. “So you’ll know to never defy me again.”

“I… Thanks. For standing up for me.” Snow says, his eyes glued to the ground.

“Fat lot of good it did to me,” Baz says miserably.

My boy… my sweet, sweet boy… what has happened to you?

“I’m sorry!” Baz yells. “I’m not your boy anymore!”

Look at what you’re doing! All this suffering around you that YOU made happen. Is this what you want to be, Baz? IS IT?

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Ma, I’m sorry!”

I thought you had more strength than this, Baz. Look at what you’ve been reduced to. You should be ashamed of yourself. Even that slave Snow boy has more courage than you. You’re a coward.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t want this to happen, I didn’t I didn’tIdidn’tIdidn’tIdidn’t–”


Baz jolts awake with a gasp. “I – wha –”

“You were flailing around. It sounded like you were having a nightmare.” Snow says. It’s completely pitch black and Baz can’t see a thing, but he can feel Snow’s hands on his shoulders and it grounds him until he let’s him go.

“Are you okay?” Snow sounds almost worried.

“I…” He bites his lip and he can feel it, a sob building up in his throat and he tries desperately, so desperately to keep it in his mouth but he can’t he can’t it hurts too much and suddenly he’s crying, sobbing, harder than he’s ever let himself cry but he doesn’t care anymore because he’s just so alone, trapped in this void of blackness and even his own mom doesn’t love him anymore and he just, he just–

But then he feels someone’s arms around him and suddenly Snow is there, pulling him into his chest and for once Baz doesn’t resist and sinks into the warmth of another person’s body, wailing in his arms, his tears soaking into Snow’s clothes, while Snow whispers comforting words and Baz clings on to the sound of his voice and the feel of his rough skin because he’s not alone anymore.

They stay like that for hours and hours.

After a while, Baz’s hitching breath evens out and his crying peters out into sniffling and then he’s struck by another fear – what if Snow lets go now? He knows Snow is still awake and though he feels a little bit better now, he can’t bear the idea of that raw, cold loneliness of the darkness again.

But for some reason, Snow doesn’t let go, and the two fall asleep entangled in each others arms.

“Baz! Wake up.”

“Huh?” Baz asks groggily. His face is stiff with tears and he can still feel Snow’s body pressed against him. He quickly rolls away and sits up. “What’s happening, Snow?”

“Do you hear that?” Snow says excitedly.

Baz listens carefully. “Are those… swords?”

Snow grins from ear to ear. “That’s our rescue convoy. I knew Penny would reach them eventually!”


“She’s my gull. I sent her with a message to my uncle when I got kidnapped. I was getting a little worried that something happened to her, but she always proves me wrong.” Snow does a little happy dance and Baz can’t help but laugh.

“What? Don’t laugh at me! Come on, we need to get out of here.”

“How?” Baz asks. “The keys are all the way over there.” He points to a hook out of reach.

Snow whips out a collapsible eyeglass from a hidden pocket within his jacket. He snaps it open to its full length it and pushes the tip of it between the bars of the cage until it reaches the hook.

“Got it!” He says triumphantly. He pulls in the key ring and holds it out to Baz. “You know which one is the right key, right? We don’t have time to try them all.”

Baz takes the keys, finds the right key, and unlocks it. The two of them burst out of the cage.

“Oi! Boys! Hand us those keys!” One of the slaves yells.

Baz takes the master key off of the ring and tosses it to him. “This’ll work on all the cages!”

The slaves clamor over the key, and Baz turns to Snow, uncertain now. “Snow… I –”

“No need for apologies, Baz,” Snow cuts him off. “And call me Simon, okay?”

Without waiting for a reply, Snow grabs Baz’s wrist and the two run up the stairs out into the daylight.

On the deck, everything is chaos. The slavers are screaming, blood is flying, and the violent clashing of swords on swords and the crunching of metal cutting flesh pierces the air. Baz can barely see two feet in front of his face, but he can feel Snow’s tight grip on his wrist.

Suddenly, they burst out of the crowds of clamoring fighters and they’re at the edge of the ship. Across the water, another ship is keeping pace with the slaver. Snow lets go of Baz and takes a flying leap. He lands solidly on the other side and turns around. “Come on, Baz!”

Baz hesitates. Does he really want to do this? Leave behind everything he’s ever known?

But then his gaze falls on those pure azure eyes, that spun-gold hair, and then he knows.

He backs up a little bit and jumps, away from his old life, across the water–

Into Simon’s arms.

anonymous asked:

I don’t know if you’re still taking drabble prompts but I’d love to see your take on how Loki survived Kurse’s attack. Please?? Do you think he faked his death?

Author’s Note - 1.9k words. I might turn this into something longer.


It was a slow awakening, like daylight warming the horizon, coaxing it from gentle purple to soft, radiant gold. First came the light, reluctantly followed by an awareness of self. Loki’s mind sparked into existence, and through the retreating numbness, he felt the sweetest stirring of fingers in his hair.

Soon, his other senses began to rouse, and the scent of gardenias tickled his nose—achingly familiar, a whisper of a memory that further awakened his clouded mind. His head felt heavy with weariness yet was soothed by the pillow it rested upon, cool silk overlaying the steadfast support of flesh and bone.

The sensations were welcome but confusing.

He was dead, after all.

“Mother,” Loki whispered without opening his eyes, knowing she was there and taking care of him. “I’m sorry.”

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