sound of lapping waves

between the devil & the deep blue sea (m)

cr. 

Words: 28,455. (rip)

Genre: Pirate Jimin au + smut, fluff, angst.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader.

Summary: “No matter the endeavour you were on, no matter the storms you encountered on rocky seas, or the possible threat of encountering blood-thirsty pirates, no one intrigued you or intimidated you more than the thought of him, of Park Jimin, the most notorious of pirates, the most brutal of men, the devil incarnate.”

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Pretty. Odd.

Pretty odd reminds me of flowers and bright blue sky’s, it reminds me of meeting someone new, and having that one friend that’s just as weird as you are, it reminds me of going to the fair on a sunny day, and watching the sunset over the ocean as the sky turns from blue to golden to black, it reminds me of long road trips with your closest friends and having your car break down In some unknown town but you still get out and turn it into an adventure, it reminds me of re-reading your favourite books, and making daisy chains in middle school, it reminds me of inspiration and letting your imagination flow, sunflowers and sweet kisses, it reminds me of adventure and being happy with who you are, it reminds me of turntables and old records, and picking fresh flowers for your room, it reminds me of cute Polaroids and hanging them up just for the sake of memories, it reminds me of the sun and the moon and the day and the night, calm soothing weather when it’s not to hot or cold but Just about right, though it also reminds me of the pouring rain, sitting inside staring out the window watching it come down, just thinking, and running outside because you just don’t care if you get wet, and jumping in puddles with brightly coloured gumboots, it reminds me of change in yourself, of finally finding who you are and just being able to say “this is who I am and I’m proud” and just being content with that feeling, it reminds me of spring and floral cocktail dresses, and fancy cocktails, it reminds me of being alone at sea, not In any danger but rather content with the sounds of the waves, standing on a deserted beach watching the waves lap against your ankles, it reminds me of finding someone you really love and staying with them for the rest of your life doing all the craziest things together, it reminds me of telling stories around the campfire and singing songs, it reminds me of singing at the top of your lungs even if your voice isn’t up to par, I think of pretty lanterns and white dresses, umbrellas and raincoats, it reminds me of fairy lights and garden parties, the colours green, blue and yellow, but not bright colours, like pastel shades and soft subtle brush strokes on a fresh canvas, it reminds me of dancing with people you love, I think of un-painted nails and natural shades of hair, It reminds me of daydreaming and marching bands, I think of pocket watches and vests and giving flowers to your friends, toothy smiles and twinkling eyes, blue skies and white clouds, chirping birds and not caring about what people think about you or if you’re different and stand out a little bit because you enjoy being you, playing music with other people, it also reminds me of getting really high with your friends and just laughing at everything even if it’s not funny and living in the present and not worrying about the past or What’s to come in the future, ending unhealthy relationships and having that content feeling After it because you’re FREE,also thinking that nothing matters except for being with the person you love the most, growing as a person, talking to someone you like and forgetting how to speak in those moments, I think of crying so much that you just can’t anymore, I think of Ballet twirls and dancing through the streets singing, vintage shops and old Volkswagen busses, big sunglasses and flowy scarves, it reminds me of blowing bubbles a d freshly mown lawns, big maps hung up on walls with the places you want to visit all pinpointed down, it reminds me of mall alleyways and welcoming coffee shops early in the morning, I think of laying outside at night by yourself and just staring up into the sky and thinking about life, flower shops and fresh air, pianos and scented candles and saving up for something expensive in nothing but coins, it reminds me of green eyes and freckles, i think of innocence and kisses on the forehead, candid photos and taking that extra bit of time to smell the flowers and take in your surroundings and notice the little things in life before you miss them, holding hands and skipping, it reminds me of the song blue skies and the album let it be, it reminds me of just sitting around and having fun and it makes me forget about anything real and fills my head with imagery, it reminds me of standing on a stage in front of thousands of people, playing your music, doing what YOU love and the realisation that you made it and you’ve achieved that dream that you’ve always been working on, it reminds me of just being happy.

  • Libra Sun Aries Moon: Sunrise and a forceful breeze.
  • Libra Sun Taurus Moon: The sound of violins and candied pears.
  • Libra Sun Gemini Moon: Butterflies and laughter.
  • Libra Sun Cancer Moon: The sound of small waves lapping against a boat and juniper berries.
  • Libra Sun Leo Moon: Peaches and wide blue skies.
  • Libra Sun Virgo Moon: Fairy lights and eyebrows on fleek.
  • Libra Sun Libra Moon: Peace Signs and daisies.
  • Libra Sun Scorpio Moon: Cherries and smoky eye-shadow.
  • Libra Sun Sagittarius Moon: Purple curtains and a bowl of honeydew.
  • Libra Sun Capricorn Moon: The harp and a river stone.
  • Libra Sun Aquarius Moon: Tiny mushrooms and colorful beads.
  • Libra Sun Pisces Moon: Bubbles and cloud nine.
7

Bathing With A View - Ocean Front

Enjoying a sweeping view while taking a relaxing bath seems like a dream for those of us who live in the city and value their privacy. But when the location allows it, such a configuration can be magnificent. There is nothing more beautiful and relaxing to me than the sound of the distant waves lapping on the shore. Here’s a selection of the best of the best baths with a view you would never get sick of.

things that make me happy
  • the perfect hue of the ocean
  • nice comments on my posts (although i cry)
  • when people notice your tiny quirky earrings
  • chocolate brown eyes
  • storm grey eyes
  • sea blue eyes
  • sky blue eyes
  • river green eyes
  • grass green eyes
  • hazel eyes when they shimmer 
  • eYES
  • freckles (and constellations lol)
  • people with red hair wearing the perfect green to compliment them
  • dark skin people in gold (especially those temporary tattoo things)
  • FLOWER CROWNS
  • being tagged in cute things
  • uncontrollable laughter
  • aesthetic boards
  • DAISIES
  • pretty wild flowers in general
  • bare feet being licked by the ocean
  • pretty notes
  • fineliiner pens
  • STAR WARS
  • “Can you move your seat up?”
  • the sound of my mum singing
  • new boots
  • dresses that you feel great in
  • escape through books and films and tv
  • the sound of waves lapping against the side of the boat
  • malteasers
  • chocolate
  • the colour purple
  • fingers rubbing against the back of your hand - tracing patterns
  • the cute little “look down laugh” smile your crush/significant other does
  • FUN SOCKS
  • DODIE CLARK
  • the perfectly shaped ringlets in natural curls
  • notebooks
  • fandom necklaces
  • finding someone in the same fandom as you
  • hitting it off with someone
  • comfortable silences with someone you can trust
  • dog paws
  • cat paws
  • anIMALS
  • the ocean
  • the stars
  • the wind
  • forests
  • the grass
  • flowers
  • people talking in their native language
  • when people are passionate and their eyes light up
  • the giddy feeling in your chest from liking someone
  • figuring yourself out
  • frozen fruit
  • fresh fruit
  • fruit
  • seeing you have a new follower AND IT’S NOT A PORN BLOG
  • “Are you kidding me I’m blind!”
library boy

j e o n   w o n w o o

cr to @soonrongs for making this precious gif & letting me borrow it :)

word count : 8.5k words (hOW)

[ (college!)au, f, a ] 

genre : will probs make u frustrated ngl 

bio : unrequited love is hard— especially when after you’ve given up he realizes he feels the same way.

author’s note : I tried to end this angsty but my heart is weak and my feels are strong

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anonymous asked:

"They spent all their savings to get me there you know?" Langst, Polydins

Ooooohhh man I’m so late on this I’m just now getting to it but I hope I wont disappoint! :3
——————————–
The planet they’d all landed on was suspiciously similar to Earth, green grass, blue water, cloudy blue gray sky and a yellow sun. It was no surprise that Lance disappeared after a while, the Blue Lion having moved away from the city, closer to the ocean. Lance sighed sadly as he stared up at the starry sky, his boyfriends and small girlfriend currently at the banquet that was being held in their honor after driving out a recent Galra infestation.
He had snuck out, claustrophobia getting to him in the huge crowds of people. Turns out that even a social butterfly like him, after being isolated in space with only seven other people to keep you company, got nervous around huge crowds of people clamoring for his attention.
Blue purred in concern underneath him, currently sitting upright with her Paladin sprawled on his back on top of her head. “I wonder if Mamá and Papá hate outer space now. I mean, it took their son away… Though I dunno what the Garrison told them. Probably that I’m dead or something stupid like that.” Lance mused aloud thoughtfully, blinking at the unfamiliar constellations.
“It’s just, they spent all their savings to get me there, you know? And then suddenly I’m gone and all they have to do to remember why their son is missing, is look up at the sky and see the stars and moon.”
Blue hummed thoughtfully, concern and warmth filling their bond as salty tears slid down his cheeks. “I miss home, Blue. I miss the ocean, even though its right there in front of me. It’s not the ocean I grew up with. It’s similar, this planet, but it isn’t the one I remember. It’s all different, it isn’t human, isn’t home. No matter how hard I close my eyes and try to pretend, my heart knows better than that.” Lance whimpered, covering his damp eyes with his suit sleeve, not really caring that the formal clothing Coran had lent him was getting fluids on the cloth.
Blue purred soothingly, already sending a call to her sisters that her Paladin was in distress and needed his mates for a cuddle pile, as soon as possible. Lance hiccuped quietly, sobbing into his arm as she gently rumbled a soft tune to calm him, flooding their bond with gentle, motherly worry and love as the ocean lapped at her paws, the sound of waves echoing through the night.
——————————-
You can bet your ass that Lance got the biggest cuddle session this side of the moon when the others found him ;) Shiro panicked, Keith was clingy, Hunk worried, and Pidge asked questions on who she’d have to cut :) Lance was thoroughly loved, don’t worry :3
But yes, Blue and Lance time! :D Mama Blue is there to listen to all your troubles, Lance!

Devil’s Advocate - Chanyeol X Reader AU Series - Chapter 1

Vampire!Chanyeol X Angel!Reader

Genre: Action, fluff, angst

Warnings: Violence, blood, language

Word Count: 3,741 (kinda long?? sorry)

(Prologue) - Next Chapter



The sound of gentle waves lapping at a thin shoreline was the first sensory response you felt as your consciousness was reawakened. Needle-like pain pierced all known muscles and joints in your body as your heavy eyelids struggled to open. You found yourself at the grass-strewn coast of a large lake, the sun bordering the horizon and the storm clouds having formed dispersive curves in the orange sky.



I fell. The dream… It actually happened.


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Dragonglass

My take on 7x04, having dodged the leaks as best I could (which, to be fair, is no easy task). Particularly when they’re spelunking in a cave. Because I can almost guarantee that the show will not spend as much time on it as I would like. 

The cave entrance was so well hidden that Dany would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking for it. As it was, her Dothraki had only found it the day before; they’d been combing the island for days in search of it. But every time they wanted to give up Jon would convince her not to…and eventually, their careful efforts had paid off.

“Are you sure about this, your Grace?” Missandei finished braiding her long hair, adjusting the dragon head pin on her dress so that it hung straight. “If you’d rather not-”

“I’m sure. It’s only a cave, after all. What’s so scary about caves?”

Missandei grinned. “The old ghiscari used to tell stories about dragons that lived in caves, from long forgotten times, guarding hoards of gold and precious jewels.”

“If there is a dragon in that cave, he must be a very small one. You know, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“And leave you alone with the King in the North? I think not.” The corners of her mouth turned up in just the faintest impression of a smile.

She shrugged. “As you wish. As long as you know that we won’t be doing anything terribly exciting.”

“You’ll be exploring a cave. I’d be disappointed if it was anything but exciting.”

~

They met Jon in front of the castle. Dany noticed, rather absentmindedly, that he was wearing a new doublet-he cut a rather dashing figure. He nodded once to Missandei and once to Dany. “My lady; your Grace.”

“How are you, Lord Snow?” There was less of a bite to the words; she would never have thought it possible, but she was growing used to the Northern king-even if he stubbornly refused to bend the knee.

“I’m well, your Grace. Better now that our journey has a purpose.” He led the way down the beach, footprints leaving tracks in the sand. Daenerys noticed that he carried a dagger; not his sword, but some kind of weapon…as if he feared what they might face in the cave. Or the knife might be meant for her…a shiver ran down her spine, even though Jon Snow hadn’t struck her as that kind of man. Even good men could sometimes be cruel.

The cave was nestled away in a hollow of rocks next to the waterfront, obscured at high tide. The doorway was small; Dany could step inside without ducking, but Missandei and Jon both looked uncomfortable until they’d made it past the initial entrance. Two of Dany’s guards entered last, wearing heavy armor even though the day was unseasonably warm.

They walked down a narrow pathway, lit only by the light of the torches Jon and the guards carried. Dany held out a hand to touch the rocks as she passed; they were cool and wet under her fingertips and the air felt still and hushed-almost expectant. She wondered how long it had been since other humans had walked here; the place felt neglected and disused, as if it hadn’t seen human beings in years. Perhaps centuries. Perhaps not since the First Men.

It seemed that they walked for a long time. No one talked; the only sounds were their boots on the rock floor and water dripping somewhere far away. She found her senses attuned to every sound; every rustle, every creak, every lap of the waves outside. Jon never stopped and his torch never wavered. The flickering firelight painted the side of his face in a warm red, illuminating more prominently than ever the hard lines of his cheekbones. She had to turn away; she was a queen, not a silly little girl. She had to focus.

Just then they reached a rise in the stone, where part of the ceiling had fallen in long before. Jon turned to her and took her hand before she could protest, helping her over the debris. She almost pulled away from him because the shock of his touch sent heat searing through her skin. As it was, she felt her breath catch in her throat and she hoped to death he couldn’t hear it.

She let go as soon as she was on solid ground, with a whispered “Thank you, Lord Snow,” trying not to let on how much her skin suddenly craved his touch. She couldn’t help noticing how his eyes lingered on her, just for a moment.

Missandei was looking at her as if to say I told you so and Dany pointedly did not respond.

The cave widened until it became a large, cavernous space with a high vaulted ceiling that was so high up she had to catch her breath. She’d just taken a step forward to examine it-it was so much bigger than she’d expected it would be-when she heard Missandei gasp and grab her elbow, pulling her backwards. “Your Grace!”

At first she didn’t see what the problem was-until the light from one of the torches glinted off the edge of what looked like a knife. Dragonglass. There were dozens of them, maybe even hundreds; tiny daggers no longer than her arm and broadswords that were half as tall as she was. They piled in the center of the room, stretching to a ceiling of rock some miles and miles above, glittering in the dim light. Again she got a feeling of history, profound and meaningful, practically weighing down on her shoulders. 

She heard Jon catch his breath, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing either. “I have to say, I didn’t expect…”

“So much of it?” She had to pinch herself and make sure this wasn’t some kind of dream and they were actually far below the surface of the earth, in a magical cave of magical weapons. “Me neither.” 

But if the swords were real…were the other things he’d talked about real too? 

“They’re yours, if you want them,” she said, picking one up carefully. She measured it in her hand; it was lighter than any dagger she’d ever held before, with a blade that was so dark it was almost black. She couldn’t see her reflection in it. Like an endless hole, it seemed to suck away what little light remained in the room. “Take as many as you’d like.”

She didn’t hear him come up behind her until he was practically breathing down her neck-until his fingers, soft and gentle, came up to cup her hand in his and gently close her fingers around the handle. “Then this one can be yours, Your Grace.” 

She was grateful he couldn’t see her face, because she was finding it very hard to keep her face expressionless. 

“I don’t need a dagger,” she replied. 

For a moment there was complete and utter silence-and then Jon said “Believe me, your Grace, you will.” 

They went from the cave in silence; Dany didn’t know what Jon was thinking about because she almost never did, but she was thinking about how they were going to get all of the dragonglass out of the cave. She wasn’t thinking about White Walkers, or even Lord Snow-how his hand had felt on hers, his fingers soft and gentle but still able to electrify her with a single touch. 

You can’t think this way. Of course he was handsome-and not only handsome, but thoughtful and considerate and genuinely concerned for the wellbeing of his people. But he wasn’t a friend, not yet. He wasn’t an enemy either, but she couldn’t afford to let her guard down around him. You’re a queen, and he is a king. He’s in open rebellion against the crown. 

“I will instruct my men to remove the obsidian as soon as they can,” she said when they reached the castle again, still blinking in the sunshine. It seemed like an eternity had passed, and they’d left the world behind while they were in the cave-it was a shock to adjust to the late afternoon light. 

He nodded once, measured and evenly. “Thank you, your Grace.”

“Good afternoon.” She left him standing on the beach and hurried over the nearest ridge, with Missandei by her side. 

“Was that interesting?” Daenerys asked as soon as she and her advisor were safely inside the castle and the heavy stone doors had closed behind them. “I certainly hope you weren’t disappointed.” 

It seemed like it was all Missandei could do to keep a smile in check. “Of course not, your Grace. It was very interesting, and informative.” 

“Do you believe he’s telling the truth? About his children’s tales?”

She shrugged. “I hope not, your Grace. But…Lord Snow doesn’t seem like the kind of man who lies.”

As much as she hated to admit it, Dany was beginning to think she was right. 

Two in one day! I’m on a roll here. Exciting, exciting, exciting. Now I can finally get to the prompts from my 1k followers stuff, which can be found here if you’re interested. 

Have a nice day, lovelies <3 

an: apparently my muse is still alive and kicking, it just likes to spend almost an entire year dormant before doing me a solid. this is heavily inspired by ‘uprooted’ my naomi novik, but it’s completely unnecessary to know anything at all about it, though you should definitely read it and cry about it with me.

Summary: Killian Jones has no desire to return to Misthaven, but his captain and his crew are tied to the kingdom in a way he has never understood, and they consider it a duty to be there for the Choosing. Once every fifteen years, the witch in her high tower chooses a man or woman among them and whisks them away, in payment for all she has done to save this kingdom, and to most it is considered a blessing to be chosen. All Killian wants is for the Choosing to be finished and The Jewel to return to sea, and to forget once again all that Misthaven has taken from him.

The Price: Chapter One

There was a hum of quiet anticipation hanging over the bay when The Jewel of the Realm docked in port, despite the teeming masses of ships, boats and dingys all huddled in together - and Killian sighed as he surveyed the place. He’d been too young to really remember the last Choosing, but Liam had woven him grand stories of it - of the mass of people who returned to their homeland, of the ceremony and the excitement bubbling among the residents of this land, of the tense wonder of the people as they waited to see who would be chosen from their ranks. Killian, for his part, didn’t understand it. He’d spent so little time ashore in this kingdom, he could hardly understand why this day, this day that happened once every fifteen years, was so important to the people of Misthaven.

Liam, for all his stories of the land they’d been born in, had no way of explaining the importance of this day. His own memories of growing up amidst the sailors and pirates who frequented their mothers inn while on land were more emotion than anything else, and no matter the tales Liam spun of the place he remembered so fondly, Killian had never quite understood what he meant when he called the place home.

To Killian it was nothing more than a place to resupply.

It was meant to be an honor, being chosen, the greatest honor a man or woman of Misthaven could receive, but for himself, it seemed more like imprisonment.

“Who d’you think it’ll be, this time?”

Killian bit out a sigh, turning to give their quartermaster an unimpressed look. They’d only returned for fear the crew might mutiny if not given the chance to be among those the Swan could choose from - despite an understanding among the crew that of anyone in Misthaven, these merchant sailors were some of the least likely to be chosen in the entire realm, there was a feeling among most of them that even the dream of a chance would be enough. At the very least, they wanted a story to tell, desired that bit of genuine truth to the tales they spun in taverns and whorehouses across the world. The Choosing, they imagined, would make for a larger than life story.

“I’d just as soon cut off my own hand as make idle speculations about what sort of person an immortal sorceress prefers for a servant, Turk. The sooner it’s done and we’re on our way, the better, I say.”

Turk, for his own part, seemed scandalized by the insinuation that the Chosen were merely servants, but Killian had never been led to believe otherwise. Those few who spent their years with the Swan rarely ever spoke of them, and though they never said a single derogatory thing about the witch in her high tower, they never spoke a kind word, either.

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6

The only thing you’re hoping as your car climbs the sweeping driveway to Stevie Nicks’ Los Angeles oceanfront home is that you won’t be disappointed, that the house will be as you imagine it. When its owner is the ultimate rock poet, a woman who has spent 30 years channeling gypsies, sprites and goddesses, it’s only natural to envision velvet surrounds and lace shawls - bohemian meets heavenly.
So as you make your way past the hedges blooming with bougainvillea, roses, honeysuckle and jasmine, up the white steps inlaid with Spanish tiles, your heart starts to beat a little faster, your curiosity gets the better of you. What if, privately, Stevie Nicks keeps things simple? Then you step inside and immediately start smiling, relieved. It’s everything you hoped - only better.
It’s early afternoon and there are candles lit and dripping, the sweet smell of incenses fills every room. There are fairy dolls and life-size sprites, gold scarves and velvet couches, beaded pillows and antique lamps. The Pacific Ocean outside provides the perfect soundtrack, as the sound of waves lapping the shore seeps into every corner of the house.
I designed this place, it’s all me.

HQ scans: X | More: X

Clashing of Wilds and Blood

Once again a huge thanks to @holy-minseok for the encouraging words, your my motivation!

This can also be read on AO3 : http://archiveofourown.org/works/11465187/chapters/25705545

PT1: https://easilyaddictedin123.tumblr.com/post/162841562811/clashing-of-wilds-and-blood

PT2: https://easilyaddictedin123.tumblr.com/post/162902440496/clashing-of-wilds-and-blood

PT4:  https://easilyaddictedin123.tumblr.com/post/163344208916/clashing-of-blood-and-wilds


PT3 (Pride)

“So this fire has blue flames, does it not?” -Maude glanced back as you sighed , you’d been dreading this exact moment- “Need I remind you that it wasn’t just you that was burned the last time you played with this fire.”

“You do not, I was there Maude, I remember what my father did to him.” you hissed back at the woman in the calmest tone you could muster.

It had been heart wrenching, you’d slipped away in some of the nights before Aelle was actually keeping a look on you and in turn you’d met Joseph, he was a stable boy, poor, and beautiful. His hair like fire and eyes the color of the forest leaves, freckles on his nose and when he smiled he had dimples. He’d been so kind, so loving, and gentle. He didn’t deserve his fate that when Aelle discovered you’d taken him to bed, the loft in the barn had never been so devastating than on that night. You’d been dragged down by your hair with a mere shift on, by your ‘father’, he’d paraded you in front of his men speaking on if you were going to act like a whore he might sell you out like one. The threat had been empty but what wasn’t was the moment Alfred had been dragged down too.

Your maiden honor had been stripped from you by a man who wasn’t your husband, worse by someone that King Aelle couldn’t coerce into marrying you for their allegiance, and to keep the kingdom from knowing “their princess is a wench” Joseph was put to death in the courtyard while kneeling on muddy ground with your screaming to hail him into his death. He didn’t cry out to you, he didn’t beg, simply let himself be thrown about and his head taken from his shoulders all on account of loving a foolish girl. You weren’t that girl anymore. The fire had burned your fingertips but consumed poor Joseph and you didn’t want that upon another person, Northman or no. You’d long learned your lesson.

“A hard lesson but you need to remember it, you tread on thin ice Little Lamb and I only hope that you do not stand as it crumbles beneath you.” Maude always meant well but you couldn’t help but wondering if she saved all her allegories just for when you were enjoying yourself or was that her natural state of being?

“I walk on no ice, there’s nothing between he and I in that way. He just wants to learn about the Sins and who knows maybe I can convert him?” It was a thin and measly lie but she didn’t call you upon it.

Time had fallen upon evening feast while you spoke and she picked a different dress not covered in dirt and dust and gravy to keep you meeting King Ragnar’s son. Say what she will on keeping secrets from your betters and peers but there was a curious part on how carefully constructed Maude could make lies when protecting you. How did she know what dresses to use perfectly to cover your arm’s bruise? How did she know to get dust off the back of your neck and hair before you even noticed it was there? Your mother had only been in her affair with King Aelle for a few months before leaving and the handing you up to him. Was it in any way considerable that she learned all this from a few months of passion between two people?

It didn’t matter to you once she yanked upon your hair, “Are you even listening?”, a sheepish grin crossed your features as you began to fiddle with the red dress’ sleeve. “Och, of course not. I said that Aethelwulf won’t buy you going to the kitchen the whole day. Say you spent half the day there then came here for stitching.”

Before you could even protest that there was nothing to show that you had been stitching she took a finger and with a needle pricked you, the sharpness and sudden hurt made you yelp like a child, then she handed you a plain white stitching already halfway done. Taking a moment to work on it the blood had seeped into the fabric to mimic an accident then she bandaged the finger.

“I’ve seen desire kill one of my charges, I’ll not see it get you beaten.” Her thumb brushed tenderly over the cut on your bottom lip, “Now, time for you to sup with your kin.”

It hadn’t taken long to get to the feast hall, the table already filled with more food than the four of you could possibly eat with an irked Alfred. You sat next to him with your ever present mischievous smile that now caused your lip to throb, Alfred’s irritation melted into slight concern but you simply ruffled his hair in play, turning to the feast you clasped your hands together in prayer. It was a short thanks to God for his generosity to your family’s feast and you were all too happy about that because not a second later your stomach released a rather unladylike growl.

Judith laughed lightly at it and as always Aethelwulf glared despite your redeeming table manners, “ How was your day, I didn’t see you after this morning.” The pathetic excuse for politeness used as interrogation of your whereabouts.

“I went to the kitchens, Lily always has some sweets set aside for me.” Judith chuckled at you.

“Those dresses won’t grow with you dear sister.” You gaped at the woman, she was Ecbert’s lover but Aethelwulf was still her husband and not too forgiving of her antics.

“My dear sweet sister don’t you know I pray upon my knees for not a single gain of weight.” The innuendo not lost on her as she chuckled and shook her head, “After the kitchen I went to stitching with Maude, pricked myself something painful to and messed up the fabric.”

You displayed the finger that had the slightest red tinge to assist in the smooth lie, Maude was your life saver. Super passed in relative ease, as much as was expected at least, and upon Alfred walking with you down the halls you were ready for the demands.

“You promised I could go with you.” He sounded more hurt than angry, “You got hit for it, didn’t you? And don’t lie telling me you just ran into something.”

“Oh, Alfred you are too clever for your age.” You ruffled his hair much to his pinched face of displeasure, “I’m sorry that I can’t take you to see the Northmen, we’ll just have to wait until your grandfather gets here. He’ll let you meet them no doubt.”

The answer soothed him as he walked you to your room. The four walls were cold despite the bed and fire, the room bare but filled with ornaments and tapestries hanging on the walls. You just sighed and shrugged out of the clothes, unbecoming of you to sleep in nothing you pulled a sheer nightgown on and slid in bed, intent on dreaming away the occasional throb in your lip and even the bright blue eyes inquisitively looking at you.  The rise of sleep cascading gently down on you made you sigh in gratefulness, nothingness and quiet cradling while you willingly fell into the dark of it.

You expected to not dream, you hadn’t since you were a child after all, not the sound of waves lapping against the grainy sand under your bare feet. The breeze  was dancing through your hair, tossing whichever way it pleased, while the sun was warm but the chill pressed you upon the ground of having goosebumps yet not needing a cloak. The air was crisp feeling your lungs and birds sang while there were creaks of boats somewhere with the laughter of children. You couldn’t see them. You could see the bank and the farm and trees rising with the cliffs. All of it familiar and not at all.

A child ran by, a girl with blonde hair, that grabbed your hand and tugged you into a run; she was small to be so strong while she pulled this way and that. You were passing the farm and going into the trees where it was dark and soft greens played against vibrant browns.

“Where are we going?” Your voice sounded far off and seemed to echo but the girl only giggled you hadn’t noticed she’d already let go of you as your feet carried after her in curiosity.

She spoke in some language all the while twirling about with you desperately trying to keep up and almost falling off the cliff if you hadn’t looked down. It was a sharp drop into water far below but she hovered above it looking at you expectantly and waved you to come over. You shook your head and instead of running off like you’d expected her to do she simply sat on nothing looking content to wait.

The dream didn’t shatter or fall from under your feet instead you just sat up with the odd sensation of wanting to run. Not in fear but just to run. To feel the muddy sand under your feet or taste the cool air despite it being summer. You shook loose the thoughts and lingering sensations to be met with a cool room and a purple dress. You slid it on over egear at the idea of teaching Ragnar’s son about sin. It was better than spending the day in the castle with a heinous, temperamental, self entitled-

“I hope you’re not talking about yourself.” Maude’s crooning voice sounded from the door as you struggled with your back lacings, “You’re up rather early, my lady.”

“Of course; I’m off to see Nobody.” You grinned at the name, if lying was a sin then you wouldn’t lie.

Nobody was what Odysseus had called himself to keep the cyclops Polyphemus from calling to his comrades. Seeing as how you didn’t know his name then your new student would be called Nobody until he got exasperated enough to actually tell you his name. He was being smug because he didn’t know how impatiently patient you could be, a contradictory of course but if you could get under his skin just enough to antagonize him it might force him into telling you.

The guards were asleep on their feet as you had two apples, one balancing in the grip of your teeth and a wine skin of water courtesy of Maude, and slid by them with ease thankful that your antics had made you quiet. You had learned your lesson by getting too close to Nobody in attempt to wake him up, instead you made loud clacking to sound that you were in the room. He didn’t sit up but one eye did open, seemingly uncaring of your being there.

“Good morning, I’ve got you an apple and then we can get to talking about Sins.” You had to admit to the excited sensation and impatience in your chest.

He groaned and rolled onto his side, away from you while you jutted your hip out, “Or I could take my breakfast and just let you beat your head against the wall in frustrated loneliness.”

You could feel him roll his eyes before turning back to you, “And why do you think I am lonely?”

“Because you asked me yesterday to come back and talk about Sin. You could have easily dismissed me.” A sly grin slid across your face at his scowl, “So Nobody-”

“Why Nobody? I do have a name?” Ivar partly growled and huffed.

“Do you? If you tell me I’ll call you by it.” At that he huffed out a laugh and you smiled.

It was a small sound but still pleasing to the ear while he shifted about to let you sit by him and give him the apple that was bitten into with a loud ‘crunch’ to echo of the walls. Odd that they didn’t seem as cold as your room’s had.

“You said sins, more than one?” You nodded thinking of which one to speak of first.

“Seven and we’ll talk about Pride today. Pride is to think of yourself high than others, and to -”

“But you are higher than others, if you are higher.” He didn’t let you finish, “How can you not have pride in what you do or how it defines you from the rest of people?”

“That’s why it’s a sin, you should be humble in getting recognition.” He raised an eyebrow, “Do you not know what humble is?”

“I’m not an idiot, woman, I know what humble is.” He snarled out at what he took as an insult, “It seems foolish not to want to take claim on what you’ve rightfully done. If you are not proud of your death or what you have done in life how do you know what your accomplishments are worth?”

“That’s the thing though, your accomplishments of good are weighed against those actions of evil like stealing from others.” You watched him mull about in his mind, blue eyes drifting off on their focus.

“If you’ve conquered and take what is yours though by right is that considered your evil?” Ivar sounded amused at the look on your face, “After all whatever you conquer now becomes yours does it not? Taking lands from those who had it before you like your kings would do in war. Is that not evil?”

“Well, yes but”-

“Then are you all not guilty if you have taken the land that you stand on. Even you? After all this belonged to someone else and now you claim it as home and hearth.” He grinned leaning back and taking another bite of the apple, it’s juice running down his chin.

It was your brief thought to lean forwards and…no that’s not a good place to go, “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. Though you can be forgiven by God for any sin.”

“You conquered this land, no? It had its own people, its own Gods but yours came and took it. You put up odd houses with your bells and take pride in that you are ‘spreading’ the word of your God. Is that not taking pride in a sin you committed of taking land, or accomplishing that you took what was theirs?” You eyebrows scrunched together in thought.

“I think I liked you better when I had to guess your name.” He laughed and you thought it was peculiar to be captivated by such a simple sound, higher than you thought it’d be, and though it took pleasure out of mocking you perhaps it wasn’t so bad.

“Then shall you guess again? Or am I to turn your words upon yourself.” Ivar’s eyes were slow in taking you in, under the words you might have had to clear the lack of anything in your throat.

Ivar was certain he’d been in here far too long despite how short of a time it might be. He was able to admit to a small degree that he was going to enjoy turning things on yourself but he hadn’t expected to enjoy it so much. Nor expect to enjoy the pale morning light shining into his dark hole that made all the brighter by your being here. Not the sweetness of an offered apple that he took from your hands. He could smell lavender lingering on your skin and wondered how close you’d let him if he moved a little. Ivar could easily blame it upon you being the only one to even dare to look in here.

“You are odd.” You tilted your head at that, “You see my legs but yet you don’t stare or laugh at it.”

“Well you are a North-”

“Viking. The word is Viking.” He offered, tired of the Northman title.

“Viking. Well you are a Viking and it wouldn’t be in best interest to make you want to throttle me. Besides they’re just legs. I’ve seen worse.” He scoffed.

“I’m serious. I’ve seen a man with no eye. And a woman without either of her legs. At least you still have yours.” You teased, “You can still feel can’t you?”

Ivar shifted now uncomfortable, “I think I liked you better when you were guessing my name.”

He parroted back and you blushed but nodded agreeing on talking of different things and of Pride. It was to a point infuriating and worse still? Some things that he said made sense, some tales of his Gods made sense and you couldn’t help but find similarities between the two.

“Do you have any brothers” at the question he groaned, you snickered, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“They’re all a pain.” Laughter came easy around him, bruises lessened and rooms became warmer.

“Do you play games, besides weapons I mean?” Ivar enjoyed your eagerness in your questioning.

“Do you besides your stitching?” He cocked his head and you grinned.

“I play chess, I’m rather good at it.” You boasted proudly, him smirking at how you’d just sinned on your own without thought.

“Think you so? I could beat you.” Ivar took amusement and the snort that escaped you.

“You could try. In any case I suppose I should at least bring the board here to prove myself.” You stood up rather excitedly and walked to the door.

“Woman.” You turned before opening it, “Did you not sin of pride at how good you are at chess?”

The thought washed over you and for once in his company you felt heat on your face. You looked down thinking over something to say before the tale of your mother came to mind.

“God forgives all.” and with that you left for the chance at beating him in chess.

Ivar watched you leave, the dress trailing behind you as it flowed, there was something to the way your h/c locks shifted through the movements it must be soft. He found a small part of him thankful that you’d not been caught or perhaps you lied well enough that you wouldn’t be beaten again. He begrudgingly admitted to himself what he’d never do allowed, your company both soothed and infuriated him. The ringing laughter was agreeable to his silence that paraded in the room leaving him to thoughts. The wide eyes of fascination about the simplest of things, the soft sounds of interest. Those were deadly to the ears, the hum of questioning or the rolling ‘ah’ of understanding.

There was no denying the beauty that graced you but it was difficult to fully grasp at the fact that you were enraptured by his world as he was with the way you lived as yourself. Suffocating in your own home, bursting at the seams for a small filter of fresh air into your dank life and how silent you could be slipping in and out of shadows. The soft hands that had seen nothing but needlework, could they ever threaten a weapon? You walked back in with a smile and a checkerboard willing to play a game.

The game was slow, planned, a challenge, the soft ‘tak’ of moving pieces made you grin, “I’m going to win dear Nobody.”

“That so?” He put you in check to which you bite your lower lips, something about the movement was appealing.

“Your pride will be your downfall.” Moving out of check forced him into checkmate, “I won.” He scoffed but had a grin on his face.

“Tell me more of your home, this Kattegat.”

“It’s a trading post with boats coming in and docking. The flourishing is made by wares and the Longhouse where the thrones sit are filled with the slaves going back and forth for anything you could ask. Not unlike your servant woman.”

“Maude, she’s my keeper or at least that’s what she keeps trying to imprint in my head.” You chuckled, “All the while she is torn of encouraging me or scolding me and I don’t understand her half the time with her speaking in riddles.”

“I know someone that she might be like, save that he’s a little more…more.” You couldn’t help the snicker nor notice Maude leaving wine in the room as you fetched it for the two of you.

Wine was a wonder of the world, the way it made your mind hazy the ease it cause and the lack of control it helped spin. Such a drink helped to the moment where you were curiously looking over Nobody’s hands. They’d ended in your lap as you pressed against the rough skin, feeling the callouses under your fingertips.

“They’re rough. Rougher than a soldier’s I’ve touched those before, why?” You questioned turning his hands and looking at the small scars and tracing lines.

“They’re the hands of a sinner.” He chided carefully and you chuffed at the thought, you had sin on your own hands and yet they were not as rough nor were the men’s hands in the castle, “I go to the smiths, the buckles aren’t kind either.”

The smile was soft and gentle that played over your lips. When had you gotten this close? He wasn’t sure and found it humorous that you were holding and inquiring over the hands that could strangle you with ease, these hands that would be dripping in red with your kinsmen from a raid. What would you think of them then? Would you run and hide from him? You weren’t like the shield-maidens of his home, no your hands were more like a royals. Small, smooth, dainty.

These hands could never kill, “Yours are soft, what do they do?”
“Perhaps they sin too, more gently than yours but sin is still sin.” You looked up shyly from under your eyelashes at him- “They’re pricked by needles.” -his finger pressed gently on the wrapped pointer finger.

“They sneak around on walls no doubt, and play chess. But they couldn’t hold an axe or shield.” He now examined your hands just as intently, tracing the lines on your palm with callouses dragging against the skin.

“No, but maybe one day a bow?” Ivar shook his head, blue eyes like the sky after a storm flickered up to you there was something there, something vibrant and fierce in them made you pull your hand back.

‘Too close to the fire and it will burn, too close.’ You cleared your throat resting your hands back on your lap.

“You said there were seven.” You raised an eyebrow, “Sins.”

“Yes. We’ll speak of Gluttony tomorrow, won’t we?” Why had your voice gone so hoarse?

“Another game too.” The noncommittal hum from your mouth had you already trying to plan the next day and talks of Gluttony.

Even then you were hoping there was a way around warming your hands against the fire that was burning hot enough to be blue in it’s hue. Burning like his eyes. Burning.

‘Would it be so bad to be burned?’

Of Reconciliation and Infinity

The night envelopes the world in its cover of reassurance, of a sort of love that emanates from the thick blanket of the skies that shroud humanity. The moon glows with an ethereal kind of light, a lightweight cover that wraps everything in magical luminescence.

Peace-inducing and cooling, the wind passes, the grass dancing along to the melody of the worlds, a low, hushed hymn of dreams and hopes that lay beyond the imaginations of those that exist.

The stars shine, winking at him every so often, a tease from the universe, perhaps encouragement. Nico Di Angelo lies beneath the cosmos, lies beneath the infinite glory of what was and what is.

It is on nights like these that his mind finally quietens down, the thoughts, the depression, the self loathing fading into nothing.

But this night was something different, It was a time of strange possibilities that could ensue.

A finger twitches next to his, and Nico looks over to see Will Solace, looking at him, an achingly gentle smile gracing his lips, blue eyes soft and the color of the cosmos with a million different constellations.

Perhaps that was the reason Nico fell in love with those eyes, the way they resembled the stars and the sky, the way they shone on the darkest of days. The way they seemed to be Nico’s only anchor to the world.

Will shifts his hand until he’s holding Nico’s and his heart skips but he only smiles back at Will, leans closer and puts his head on Will’s shoulder.

It feels safe, lying there under the canopy of the stars, close to Will, the distant sound of waves lapping on a shore shifting through the wind. It feels like everything Nico wants and needs. It feels strange because nothing has felt like this in so long. It feels like home.

His heart aches when he thinks of how much he wants to kiss Will, to be with him, to grow old with him by his side, all those hopes kept wrapped up in the confines of his mind. Thoughts that should never come out.

He does not know why, or how, but he starts talking, whispers of hushed words that have stayed inside him too long. The stories he never told anyone, the story of him and Bianca, the story of his mom, of freshly baked cookies back in Venice.

He tells Will everything then, doesn’t know why, only feeling that it’s right so he does. Times of ecstasy and joy, times of sadness despair, laps of time that were ghosts until he said them and they came alive.

At some point they shifted and sat up, Nico simply looking at the stars to avoid Will’s eyes as he talked, afraid he would stop talking if he looked; he didn’t even know if Will was paying attention.

But Will listened, staring at Nico intently as he recounted stories of old, of how it was when Maria Di Angelo died, of how it was when he figured out that that feeling in his stomach around Percy Jackson was what he most feared it to be. Of what it was like to roam in darkness, wishing to instead just die, for life to simply stop.

And when he was done, he slowly, fearfully turned to face Will, was surprised to find his eyes looking at him so, so tenderly. Will looked at him as if he were strong and not broken, as if he were a hero and not a victim. As if he wasn’t other.

And then, eyes fluttered closed, lips joined softly, and hearts finally came together.

The universe above burned aflame.

Wet and Wild

A continuation of a snuggle prompt from @bkst-tutu1b with much cheerleading and assistance from @awesomeeyeroll (You both rock!)

XXXXXxxxxXXX

The Spanish sun was far too bright and hot for her pounding head.  Claire regretted saying she’d meet Jamie at the water park the moment she stepped outside. They were together until the early morning hours on the beach wrapped in a blanket they might have permanently borrowed from a lifeguard. Their extensive conversation began with her asking about how he got dragged to the club by the two bearded blokes that had also brought him into A & E. An innocent enough question yet one that needed some intense family history, convoluted to say the least.

“It would seem I make poor personal choices when I’m with them, doesn’t it?” he considered. “They’ve just always been there so I’ve never needed any friends apart from my cousins. I mean, my sister and Willie were different. I have to love them, don’t I? So how big is your family?”

“Just me.” she said quietly. “Mum and Dad died in a car accident when I was five. After that is was me and my uncle. He was an archeologist so I grew up traveling all over the world. It was honestly amazing until he died last year. I’m just glad he got to see me graduate uni.”

Ah Dhia, I just stepped in it didn’t I?” he blushed. “We’ll leave that alone until we get back. Agreed?”

Claire nodded. She squeezed his hand as she leaned closer into him.

“It’s really okay, Jamie. We’ve both had an unconventional upbringing but we turned out well enough.” she affirmed. “It’s not how I thought it would be but I was taught how to be self sufficient, confident, and grateful for what I had.”

Jamie mumbled his agreement.  “Mhmm.”

Their conversation fell quiet for a few minutes with just the sound of the lapping waves in the background. After such an intense exchange it was just what they needed to decompress. Jamie quickly devised a plan for the following day to spend more time with her but without the heaviness.

“So how about meeting up at Western Water Park about half eleven?”

XXXXxxxXXXX

Claire bought her entry ticket and walked through the front gate. She adjusted her sunglasses then began scanning the area for the red headed Scot.

“I’m an idiot. A stupid, stupid idiot! Why did I say I’d do this?” she mumbled to herself. “Why?”

Jamie tapped her shoulder from behind, “It’s because I’m cute.”

She grabbed his wrist, bending it backwards as she screeched. Before he could cry out he found himself lying on the hard tarmac looking up at her smiling face. He made a mental note to remember that sneaking up on her would be taking his life into his hands.

“You’re not wrong, Fraser.” Claire admitted. “And if you want to stay that way I’d suggest you don’t surprise me anytime soon.”

He just rolled his eyes then reached his arm towards her. “Message received.”

Before Claire could help him up she was shoved by someone yelling at her rather angrily in French. Jamie was pulled to his feet by the other girl who smothered him in kisses while she checked him over for injuries. When Claire pushed the pair apart she was shocked to be at the receiving end of a slap.

“I don’t bloody think so!” Claire bellowed. She moved nimbly to return the blow multiple times. As the stunned girl sniffled Jamie grabbed Claire’s arm and dragged her out of the park.

“Long story short,” he panted. “That was Annalise. We dated. For a summer. Her family owns a bar here.”

He watched her face relax as she ran her fingers through her unruly hair.

“I see,” she sighed. “Since we’re going for full disclosure I got my final divorce decree a few months ago.”

“I think we’re up to date then!”

Claire snorted, “You said date. So you really want to take a chance on a nomadic Brit with a black belt?”

“I did. And I do.” he replied.

she wouldn’t be wearing a swimsuit that small if anyone other than you and the nearby school of angelfish were here.

“mulder, that’s ridiculous,” she said last week at costco when you put two snorkel sets - a pink one for her because you think she looks cute in that color, a grey one for yourself because, unlike her, you don’t look good in pink - into your cart. “we’re not going to get that up-close. you know i don’t like swimming in the ocean.”

but as she dives below the sea’s surface once more, follows the school as they shimmy down by the nearly-endless reef below both of you, you’re pretty sure she was wrong.

she presses against the water with her hands, moves away from you while you look in between sea-fans and fire corals. though you’re thankful for the change, for the difference, you know these colors could never exist in the states, at least not in the part of the states where you both live, no matter how greatly you wish they would. out there, everything is grassy and earthy, the colors being those of mountains, canyons, freshwater lakes, but here, cold and warm fluorescents light up the strangely-blue water, and though you’re wearing goggles, the world comes through in perfectly clear technicolor. the fish are like pizza shop open signs, the reefs textured and endless, the sand flitted with pink flecks that shine out most when they’re stuck to her hands. after the bout of winter you’ve had in virginia, the warmth and vibrance of the maldives feel life-affirming, the combination acting as a brash awakening to the varying beauties of the world. you’re glad that your first true vacation together was to somewhere that feels like another planet.

and dana scully on a beach has been your most pleasant surprise so far. somehow, she found a tiny surf-shack for you both to stay in on himmafushi, just a bedroom and no kitchen, so when you’re both not lounging around and reading with the windows open, you’re on the beach, her sunscreen close by and your typical clothes left in your suitcases; most often, you’re both wearing swimsuits, the exposure of her skin so new even though you’ve known her for so many years. now, you eye her tattoo far ahead of you in the water, her glance drifting back, her eyes signaling keep up, mulder.

then, she dives down, and because she goes head-first past its edge, you’re sure she’s at the end of the reef. kicking forward, you follow, then tense as you see the depth; apparently, you’re farther out than you assumed, for the distance from the sandy bottom to the crests of the waves is…ten, maybe fifteen feet? the reef alone must be four feet tall. with her stomach parallel to the bottom, she swims alongside two stringrays, the three making a pale pack, the rays shimmying like bedsheets on a clothesline in summer; you breathe at the top of the water, the glugging sounds of lapping waves coming into your years, and wish you had a camera so that you could immortalize the way she blends in here, could always remember her sense of ease on this part of the planet. then, the rays swivel off in other directions, and she needs a breath, so she presses up, crests through the water a few feet away, leaves a trail of bubbles behind her. lazily, you pad over to her while her dainty little ankles tread water.

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Title: “The Spooky Truth with Dr. Jones,” (2/3) | 1 • 2 • 3

Summary: Emma Swan is a podcaster looking for a semi-interesting story. Dr. Killian Jones is a paranormal investigator who doesn’t believe in the paranormal. Emma Swan absolutely does not want to write this story—but it seems to be writing itself. A CS Black Tapes AU.

Notes: This was supposed to be a one-shot. And then it was two chapters. And now it’s three. I rather viscerally hate myself, but I hope you enjoy this chapter. I’d like to thank and/or notify a # of awesome people who helped with this or would like to be kept… abreast: @seastarved @zengoalie @ofshipsandswans @abbadons-little-witch @the-reason-to-sail-home @businesscasualprincess​ @swanandapirate @piratesails. Also on Ao3.


+ And that’s how it starts. To David’s immense happiness, the podcast becomes incredibly popular in just the first few episodes. They manage to get some spooky, soft folk music for the opening theme music, a couple of advertisers, and soon enough, she’s no longer doing a series on “odd jobs.” Instead, it’s a full-blown podcast about debunking claims of paranormal phenomena. And getting the infamous Dr. Killian Jones to admit he was wrong. Maybe. A little bit.

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Percico Chilling By The Water

Here is my submission for the Percico Weekend. I worked with @dhdart on this and they even drew something for it! Anyways I had fun working on this and will keep an eye out for any other events like it! Enjoy Percico HC on the water front!


  • Percy gets stressed sometimes over school and stuff and Nico hates it
  • Nico hates seeing his usually playful fun loving Percy nearly in tears over some essay and trying so hard so so hard to pretend like it’s ok when Nico walks in the room
  • Nico hates feeling helpless
  • So he does something about it
  • Nico looks online for things to help with stress relief 
    • He finds stuff like massages (those only work for a but then Percy is back to work and Nico can practically *see* the tension creeping back into his bf shoulders)
    • Meditation (that was a hilarious flop but Percy laughed so Nico counted it as a win)
    • Heck Nico even bought Percy a plant Percy still has it 
  • He talks to the Apollo kids
    • They suggest talking a quick walk but Percy refuses to leave because “I need to get a good grade on this Nico, just give me an hour tops” Nico doesn’t see Percy till bedtime when all he had the energy to do is cuddle and sleep
  • He talks to Annabeth 
    • She told him to play classical music 
  • He talks to Jason
    • “Tell him to do the eagle pose!”&#157; Nico had to look that one up.
  • Piper told Nico to kiss Percy more 
    • “don’t look at me like that Nico, it’s a real thing”
  • Basically anyone who knows Percy (Nico’s Percy not the savior of Olympus part of the big 7 seven Percy) Nico has talked to them
  • Nothing is really working and Nico is getting frustrated
  • Then Nico has a “holy Hera how am I this stupid” moment
  • Percy is a child of Poseiden. Water. Duh
  • So Nico decides to drag Percy out of the Poseiden cabin and down to the lake he has to promise Percy he will get in too
  • When they get there, both of them are content to let their feet hang off the edge of the dock and listen to the sound of the waves gently lapping against the shore
  • Percy gets restless though and tries to leave
  • Nico manages to convince him to at least swim a few laps.
  • So Percy strips down and makes lazy circles near the docks
  • It’s quiet till Percy speaks “You know this reminds me of swimming with my mom, when i was first learning she’s have me lay on my back and just float”
  • Nico smiles when he sees then fond grin on Percy’s face
  • Percy talks about all the happy memories he has of the beach and swimming and Nico is happy to just listen, and watch (this relaxed Percy is a welcomed change)
  • As the day wears on Nico think he might just get away with making a trip to the lake and not show up to dinner late or soaking wet
  • Percy picks that moment to grab Nico and haul him into the water
  • “PERCY!!”&#157;
  • *uncontrollable laughter*
  • Nico is disgruntled and climbs back out just long enough to strip off his jacket before Percy is pulling him back in
  • They splash around for while till Percy pulls Nico over to him
  • “Thanks for this Nico. I needed it.”&#157;
  • “Of course. Just promise me something? Please don’t let it get that bad again. I’ve been there done that. It’s not fun.”
  • Percy just kinda laughs and kisses Nico softly
  • “deal”&#157;

Part 1 Here!


Jason doesn’t know if he’s in love.

He shoves his calloused hands into the pockets of his worn jeans. The cold wind brushes against his cheeks, and Jason shivers. Waiting patiently, for once, as the street vendor hands him two large soft pretzels. The last two soft pretzels he would be making for the night. Two soft pretzels that the vendor had sold for five times his usual price, which Jason had more then happily paid for.

Jason doesn’t know if he’s in love, but when he turns around and takes in your frame. Shoulder slightly hunched as you rub your sweater covered arms. You’re staring into the ocean, mouth pinched down. He feels a swell of affection raise into his chest, the sudden urge to do whatever it takes to let you smile again.

Jason doesn’t know if he’s in love, but he swears in that moment, he’s never loved anyone more.

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{3} Like Smoke

holy shit I finally updated. I’m going to try and be consistent and update this story weekly. Finally found my inspiration for this story again.

{Prologue} // {1} // {2}

{ Mafia!Dazai x F!Reader }{ Mature }{ Canon Divergent }{ canon - typical violence }
                                   __________________________
 

           
The silence is unexpectedly comfortable. Or maybe the alcohol gliding through your veins was keeping your body relaxed and mind focused on the blurring lights framing the empty road. Dazai had practically force fed you potstickers before scurrying you out of the door with fried dough still partially hanging from your lips. Starless, the night looks like a canvas painted with heavy strokes of flitting navy blue with a half-moon pinned in the corner. He barely gave direction as you drove with nervous fingers drumming on the steering wheel. Dazai whistles with the song on the radio, head leaning against the window.

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anonymous asked:

sea mechanic O

O. The stars or space

The only sound is the waves lapping up against the rocks on the shoreline, quiet and calm, it’s a steady hush. It’s dark, no moon even in the night sky to light it up, and the city is a half mile hike inland. It’s only the stars and Raven, sitting alone on a large flat rock that rarely gets covered by the high tide, but still sits on the water’s edge at low tide. She stares out at the water toward the horizon she can no longer sea and looks for the glitter of the stars in the waters reflection.

It’s vast and dark and unknowable as space.

She had meant to get back to camp before the light was gone, having no light of her own, and the path is not clear, but she had lain there in the setting sun watching the colors change and let her mind drift. She had half woken, half come to when she realized that she was alone in the dark. Lying back she had let herself drift again. It was cold, but she’d been colder. And there, on the beach on the outskirts of Polis she’s safe for now on the border between the Trikru and the Floukru.

Above her stretches the scar of the Milky Way and below her its reflection, the night is so dark and black. She knows she should move, stretch, anything, or she won’t be able to without a great deal of pain, but her body feels far away and she lets her mind float away in the blackness and the shimmer of the starlight.

Raven registers the soft footfalls of someone skilled at moving quietly, the shift it the quality of the air around her but it’s as far away as the dull ache in her low back. Even without moving there’s a familiarity to the gate and the warmth that settles next to her. She knows without looking that Luna is with her.

With her body anyway, her mind is drifting far away from the pain and heartache of this place, dreaming that she’s floating in a sea in the sky, not needing a suit for her spacewalk, but she can feel the starlight shine on her skin. Dreams she had when she was little. Anything to take her away from what she had been left with here on Earth.

Dead boyfriends, broken friendships, no family to call her own. Leadership had left a vile taste in her mouth and she had nearly lost her own life saving people who were more likely to vilify her than think about what she had sacrificed. So she sought out tranquility and silence.

Except when it came to the few who had been there in the end, the ones that she stood with at the end of the war. The others that carried the weight of the decisions made.

When she feels Luna scoot close enough that Raven can feel a thin line of heat between them she doesn’t move. Her body feels cold and she doesn’t want to come back from the expanse of space before her. She could just reach out, scoop up the stars in her palm, bright, shining beacons of hope and beauty.

When Luna rests a hand across her spine she breathes deeply into the touch, but stays fixated on the floating weightlessness she feels disconnected from her body. If she could only let it go she could be anywhere and everywhere at once. She tries to tell herself that no one would really miss her but there’s a voice in the side of her mind that tells her that’s a lie.

When Luna runs her hand along Raven’s spine, cupping the back of her skull she lets Luna move her, puller sideways into an embrace. Her eyes flutter closed and she lays her head on Luna’s shoulder, her nose pressed to the warmth of Luna’s neck. She takes in another deep breath and lets herself settle into her body once more the weight of it, the cold, the pain, the way Luna’s arms feel like solid ground and safety.

“You’re freezing,” Luna whispers.

They’ve been dancing around each other. Not quite landing together but orbiting each other. Lately though, since things calmed down, they’ve been shifting closer. So close that they don’t keep the space between them like they should. Raven slides her hand under the edge of Luna’s open jacket and wraps her fingers around the hem of Luna’s shirt tucked at her side.

“The stars are out.” Raven says by way of an answer. Her body is heavy with exhaustion. “I wanted to float away on the sea of them.”

“And leave me behind?” Luna chides, but there’s an edge of something else in her voice, teasing, but also concern.

Raven nuzzles Luna’s neck as she shakes her head no. The words catch in her throat. It’s one thing to let Luna hold her, calm her down, ground her and bring her back to herself, but it’s another to say what it means outloud, to admit what she feels and what she wants.

“Then where would you meet me?” She feels the press of Luna’s lips against the side of her head and Luna brushes her hand across Raven’s head, gentle, protective.

Raven sits up and turns so her back is to Luna and she’s cradled between her legs. They’re looking out across the sea in the same direction. Raven wraps Luna’s arms around her and presses their cheeks together. She reaches up one and, fingers sliding behind Luna’s head, tangling in her hair, holding her softly, but firmly. With her other hand she points to a bright cluster of stars.

“There,” she whispers. “I’ve seen in through a telescope on the arc. That nebula is as blue as your lagoon that you’ve claimed, the gases and stars a swirling seascape in the night sky. I would show you the beauty of the stars from close up… well closer.” Raven almost laughs and Luna squeezes her arms tighter, pulling Raven closer. “Up close we would burn up, too bright, too hot, too insignificant to matter in the grand scheme of things. The universe is so much more vast than we are, and no matter what we do it will continue on long after we’re going.”

Luna starts to rock them gently and Raven can almost feel her thinking. She waits. The press of Luna’s cheek against hers doesn’t lessen, nor does the protective tightness of her arms, as if she can hold Raven to herself, if only she holds on Raven won’t float away on the sea of stars.

“We all return to the sea in the end, but while we are here, while we are small in comparison, we matter to each other. To those around us we are not insignificant, but as bright as stars.”

Raven nods, a warmth pooling inside her that she hasn’t felt for months. Her heart aches in ways she had forgotten she could feel. She settles down into Luna’s embrace. “Stay with me.”

“Until the universe ends.”


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