the blue wolf: to the ends of the earth and sea

A penny for a thought

From the wild moor

Red and gold , the banner of the brave house is lazily singing in the wind.
The sun is setting.
The hustling world breathes out a relieved sigh and fireflies light up the darkening land.
Bonfires are cracking in the dull light and embers sparkle in the soft evening air.
Someone is humming the tune of the latest song and low guitar cords mingle into it.

Sitting down you stare into the fire.
Warmth engulfs you and for a moment in time you are immortal.

A penny for a thought?

A thought of adventure.
Aren’t there mountains to climb and seas to cross?
Aren’t there fights to fight and minds to blow?
Right now you could jump off a plane with a parachute strapped onto your back.
Can you feel it?
The feeling of your heart plunging into your stomach?
The sound of the wind that whips against your body?
Right now you could be walking through a thousand year old forest.
Can you hear it?
The cries of a monkey, calling out for his mate?
The ever existing rush of life in the jungle?

Does it not make you feel drowsy?

Knowing that all that is out there?
Knowing that you have the possibility to grasp immortality just by LIVING!

Does it not make you feel afraid?

Knowing that all that is out there?
Knowing that you are going against the world just by living?


From glen

Blue and bronze, the colours of the wise house are clothing the sky at dawn.
The world awakes.
The darkness is leaving and makes space for the buzzing day.
The first birds are leaving their nests whilst chirping a greeting to the rising sun.
The sweet east-wind accompanies them and fills the air with promising fragrance.

Walking through the dew you look up into the clear sky. Your skin is still covered in goosebumps from the nightly cold but it wakes you up and clears your mind and
for a moment in time you are immortal.

A penny for a thought?

A thought of philosophy.
Aren’t there minds to fill with knowledge? Aren’t there books to read and worlds to discover?
Aren’t there paintings to finish and poems to recite?
Right now you could use your voice to bring ideas to life!
Can you see it?
A pirate, a knight, a fairy a friend.
You are raising your voice and life streams through the world. In a wirlwind you paint fight and reunions and first kisses and adventures.
You convey emotions and manipulate reality.
Can you feel it?
The power those words hold?
A sentence is enough to end a life. But a word can also let it begin.

Does it not make you feel excited?

Knowing that behind every cover is a new universe to discover?
Knowing that you are creator and destroyer of worlds?

Does it not make you feel scared?

Knowing that you are losing contact to your here and now?


From valley broad

Black and yellow, the banner of the steady house flutters on the wind.
The sun is standing high in the sky, leaving warmth and light in its wake.
The world is here and now. The day came swooping in and grasped your hand to run along. Life is pulsating through the arteries of the earth. The trees are groaning and the weeds are dancing. Bees and bears alike are heading out to follow nature’s call into the wild.

Laying in the grass you look up and shield your eyes from the sun, and for a moment you are immortal.

A penny for a thought?

A thought of perspective.
Aren’t we already sad enough?
Aren’t there little things to enjoy?
The perfect meal, prepared by a friend for a friend?
Watching animals work and realising that they are just as hardworking and down to earth as we are?
Tuning out the world to take care of yourself because you are worth to be looked after, and firstly by yourself?
Can you hear it?
The laughter or you and your friends because you understand the meaning and worth of your friendship?
Can you see it?
How that smile you gave to a stranger made their day because they thought they were hated by or for their own blood?

Does it not make you feel happy?

Knowing that your hardships will be honoured? Knowing that there is more to life than your success?

Does it not make you feel helpless?

Knowing that some people won’t understand the true feeling of joy?


From fen

Silver and green, the colours of the proud house adorn the nightly northern sky.
The moon and the stars are carefully watching over the sleeping world.
Silence has drowned out the never ending fuss of the day and finally thoughts are able to wander and sprout and bloom.
Only the wolfs howl in the night, their ancient song of hardship and pride. A tune that is as loud as thunder and trice as beautiful.

Walking through the darkness with only the moon as light you listen to the silent noise of secret life. And for a moment you feel immortal.

A penny for a thought.

A thought of freedom.

Aren’t there already enough heroes in this world?
Aren’t there other people that can be chess figures on a board?
Right now you could be running with wolves and dancing with snakes. You could be swimming against the current and tame the sharks in the water.
Right now you could be proving them wrong and yourself worthy.
Right now you could be reaching for the stars and leave your head in the clouds.
Can you feel it?
When the shackles of oppression fall apart?
When you can finally choose your own way?
The rain on your face, the wind in your hair as you run through the world and pursue your dreams?
Can you see it?
The future that you always wanted?
Painted in the colours of the milkyway, sparkling and bright and never fading.

Does it not make you feel giddy?

Knowing that you can go wherever you want to?
Knowing that you are your own person?

Does it not break your heart?

Knowing that the loneliness can be crushing?






billow and breeze (all that was me is gone)

Pairing: Sansa Stark/Dickon Tarly
a/n: Because I am all aboard the HMS Dicksa, and because Tom Hopper is forever Billy Bones in my mind, here is a little pirate!AU ficlet for this wonderful crackship.

Sansa had always been terrified of the sun-bleached, rag-covered skeletons of punished pirates that hung over the seagate to White Harbor. The dread she felt at staring up at those long-dead remnants of the crown’s enemies, however, paled in comparison as she stared at the sight now in front of her: a ship deck full of living, breathing pirates. Dirty, salt-crusted, fierce, and armed to the teeth, the crew was staring at her as her captors pusher her aboard.

They were all her captors now, from the youngest powder monkey to the oldest cook on board. Despite her efforts to keep her identity unknown, someone had recognized her Tully hair. Combined with wolf sigil on the uniforms of her escorts–all dead now, burning in the ruined ship or already at the bottom of the sea–one of the pirates had figured out who she was. Presenting her to the captain was merely a formality, or so his quartermaster had chuckled at her just as they arrived at the ship.

She repressed a shiver as she was walked across the deck back to the captain’s quarters. Sansa could feel the men’s eyes on her, every part of her, and it coated her skin like a grimy film. It was almost a relief to hear the wooden cabin door close behind her. Through another set of doors, however, and then she was facing the man who held her fate in his hands. It surprised her, that the captain looked more like a soldier than a pirate. With his golden hair, he could even have been a king. He was not though; the closest he had come to the throne was guarding it, then betraying it. Despite his appearance of civility, the captain was just a vicious traitor to the crown who plagued the queen’s seas.

“Well, Bronn,” he drawled as he lifted his feet off his desk. “Looks like you were wrong about the contents of that hold.”

The man at her shoulder chuckled. “Ay, but just as good as treasure, this one. Don’t you recognize her?”

The captain stood, smiling sharply. “Ned Stark’s eldest daughter, of course. And what were you doing sailing so far south this time of year?”

Sansa didn’t answer, just clenched her fists tighter into her skirts. The captain walked towards her slowly, until he was only a breath away. Reaching a finger under her chin, he tipped her head up so she was staring him straight in the eye. “It doesn’t really matter, now, does it? You’re not going south anymore. You’ll stay right here with us, until we reach an agreeable price for you from your father.”

Her throat closed up, because although she knew her father would relinquish Winterfell itself to get her back, she did not believe it was money that the captain was after. Even so, she forced herself to offer a true, if trembling, warning, “If I’m hurt in any way, you’ll never get another night’s rest. He’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth if I’m not returned in one piece.”

The captain raised an eyebrow and exchange a brief glance with Bronn. The quartermaster shrugged, then nodded. Immediately, the captain snapped his fingers. Sansa startled as a young man stepped up to her side. She hadn’t noticed anyone else was in the room, though as she stared at him out of the corner of her eye, it seemed impossible to have missed him.

He was nearly a hand taller than her, with broad shoulders and thick arms. His face was long, rectangular, and covered in stubble. He looked less like a pirate and more like a sailor, possibly the captain’s influence. Even as she stared at him, he did not look her way once, just kept his attention on the captain.

“I’m putting her under your watch, Dickon,” the captain ordered. “She is to sleep in Bronn’s quarters–”

The quartermaster grunted, but after a stern glare from the captain, he fell into sullen silence.

Continuing, the captain explained, “–for the duration of her stay with us. See that she remains there. She is not permitted about the ship, for any reason. You will bring her meals to her and guard her door at night. Essentially, she is your responsibility while we wait to hear back from her father.”

Dickon nodded, and Sansa finally felt his gaze fall on her. His eyes were as blue as the sea they were sailing on and also as unfathomable. He gave nothing away–not interest, not resentment, not hatred. Even though his stare was blank, it was still intense. Her skin prickled, warm and aware of his large presence, and she ducked her head. It was nerves, she told herself, that made her cheeks flush. This one youth was both her jailer and her guardian while on board, both foe and friend.

When he grabbed her arm, roughly however, she took back that last qualifier. He might be her protector, she thought as he slammed the door and locked her inside a new room, but he most certainly was not her friend. She had no friends here, no allies. She was adrift amongst enemies, with no champions or saviors in sight.

Curling up in the musty, rough hammock, Sansa chocked back tears and began to pray to all the gods to help her find a way out of this mess. 


Reverse Falls with some dipifica. Loose ties to Summerween. At this point Pacifica has no clue that Dipper has a crush on her. And to some extent neither does Dipper. There is snark ahead. And DANCING! *flails arms*


If Pacifica hadn’t been accustomed to extravagance and splendour, the sight of the ballroom before her would have taken her breath away. A grand crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. The lights adorning it were set dim and covered in a sheen of red glass, to help people remember which holiday they were celebrating. The tile floors were bathed in a deep crimson red, along with the dark walls. The room was like something out of a gothic Victorian castle. Rich velvet curtains covered the windows, allowing no outside light to filter in. Bodies, draped in fine silks of dark reds, blues, greens and blacks, spun around the room in a graceful waltz. Everyone wore a mask, but Pacifica could tell they were all around her age. It was a shock to the system, since she couldn’t imagine why kids her age would want to be at a ballroom dance instead of going to an actual fun party. Though it definitely wasn’t surprising that the Pines Twins would throw something like this.

Pacifica wandered around the edges of the ballroom, scanning for any kind of buffet table. There had to be a place where they would put the candy. It would be stupid to have a Summerween party without candy. Even if this was more of a 18th century Ball than a party.

“Looking for something Northwest?” a silvery voice asked from behind her, in his usual bored drawl.

Pacifica suppressed to urge to groan in frustration, as she slowly turned to face one of the hosts of the party. It wasn’t at all shocking that he managed to find her. She stood before him in a snow white angel costume that made her stand out like a sore thumb. The dress was floor length and shimmering in the little light that the ball room had. If she had known that everyone would be wearing such dark colours, she wouldn’t have worn white.

Dipper was wearing red. Which was super weird because Pacifica had only ever seen him in blue, black or green. His costume wasn’t actually that different from his usual stage attire. He still had his silky black dress shirt and black slacks. Only now his floor length cape and button down Victorian style vest were a deep crimson instead of turquoise or blue. His amulet gleamed at the apex of his collar, the sea green contrasting horribly with the red. Though it was doubtful Dipper even cared about that. He would rather flay his own skin than be parted from that amulet. The mask he wore was red and decorated with black glittering flames on the surface. The top corners of the mask were shaped into curled demon horns.

“The Devil huh,” Pacifica said as soon as she took in his appearance. “How fitting.”

“And an angel costume,” Dipper answered back with a snarl. “How pretentious.”

Pacifica couldn’t help the flare of anger that sparked in her eyes. Nor could she control the down turn of her lips.

“Do you usually insult your guests?” Pacifica asked with her arms crossed. “No wonder the turnout is so low.”

“Only the most tolerable of our so called peers were invited to this party,” Dipper shot back, his cool voice traced with petulance. “And I believe you weren’t on that list.”

Pacifica offered him the most mocking pout and shrug she could muster. A thin scowl appeared on his lips and she could see his eyes narrowing beneath his mask. She smiled to herself, for being capable of shifting his carefully crafted mask of indifference into a look with echoes of fury.

“Gideon sends his regrets for being unable to attend,” Pacifica stated in her stuck up formal tone that took years to perfect.

Dipper’s nostrils flared as he took a deep breath through his nose. It was no secret that he loathed his sister’s affection towards Gideon. He genuinely despised Gideon (along with everyone else at the Mystery Shack) and hated that his own flesh and blood would willingly associate with them. Not only that, but Mabel’s infatuation always ended up restraining his hand when he had a plan to steal the journal. He was quick to hide his rage and replace it with his usual placid and bored expression. God forbid he actually show hints of emotion.

“Mabel invited Gideon,” he sighed with a frown of his lips. Clearly he hadn’t been aware that his twin had sent Gido an invitation to their Summerween masque. Not until then at least. Annoyance at his sister’s antics flickered across his face as he clasped his hands behind his back. “Of course she did.”

“He wasn’t feeling up to it,” Pacifica explained with a shrug. “So I took the invite in his place.”

“And why is that, I wonder?” Dipper asked as he took a threatening step towards her. She stopped herself from flinching backwards and strengthened her stance. As he circled her like a vulture, invading precious personal space, she made sure to cast him a deadly glare through her lace mask. “Why would you enter the dwelling of your enemies, when you know how dangerous it would be. Unless you have a death wish.”

“Nobody says ‘dwelling’ anymore Pines,” Pacifica stated with an eye roll. She locked eyes with him and glared “And it’s none of your business why I’m here. So you can go terrorize your other guests.”

She turned away from him with a huff, determined to look for that stupid candy. No need to waste her time engaging in a verbal battle of barbs and insults when her life was on the line. Just as she started walking away as quickly as her heels would allow, Dipper glided in front of her. His arm was outstretched and he offered her his open palm. Two of his fingers beckoned her forward in one sharp movement, that seemed more like a demand.

“Dance with me.”

Pacifica stared at him in shock for a few fleeting seconds. She blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. What on earth had possessed him to say that? Dipper wasn’t the type to ask his sworn enemies to dance. In fact she couldn’t imagine him asking anyone to dance. Did the guy even know how to dance? Didn’t he only know how to skulk in dark corners?

“As fun as that sounds,” she said with an intentional lack of enthusiasm. She smiled at him with her most sickeningly sweet smile, which would hopefully drive him away. “My dance card is full.”

The magician didn’t seem deterred. His green eyes flashed in the light and the vicious grin of a blood thirsty wolf curled at his lips. That alone was enough to send her heart pounding like a jackhammer in fear. But his next words made her throat close, terror burning in her lungs. “How long do you think it would take for me to crush a man’s skull with my amulet?” he asked casually, pulling his hand back to examine the shape of his perfectly manicured nails. “I’m thinking 45 seconds.”

Pacifica knew Dipper Pines well enough to know that it wasn’t an actual question. It was without a doubt a threat. He never took no as answer, no matter the demand. Of course he would resort to threatening her, even if it was the dumbest request she had heard him make in a while. She clenched her fists at her sides, and jutted her chin out defiantly. “You wouldn’t.”

“It is my party,” he shrugged in response, that arrogant smirk still on his stupid face. “And it’s not as if you’re willing to take the chance.”

Pacifica wanted nothing more in that moment than to break his nose. Her fingers twitched with anticipation at her side, and she had to grip the silk of her dress in order to stop herself from lunging at him. If she didn’t want anyone to get hurt, she was going to have to keep her temper in check. Why couldn’t he just be a normal pompous jerk instead of a pompous jerk with mystical powers? She grit her teeth together and begrudgingly accepted his offer with a sneer.

“Excellent,” Dipper said, his voice betraying none of the smugness that she knew he was feeling.

Without another word, he strode across the dance floor, winding his way through the maze of twirling bodies with ease. Pacifica debated on just leaving him to dance by himself and continue on her search. But the backlash of that decision might be a bit bloody. So for the sake of everyone in that room, she followed him. It would be easier to make sure he wasn’t causing any trouble if she was there to distract him. Marching through the crowd of waltzing teenagers, who were strangely coordinated, was more difficult than Dipper made it seem. She almost knocked someone over three times before she caught up with him. But none of them stopped in their effortless dance, all of them keeping perfectly in time with the music and each other. Which was super sketchy.

She was just able to make it in front of Dipper as the music reached its final notes. The waltz that had continued without pause around them slowed and ended with a low dip. Every single person moving at matching speed at matching times. Pacifica stared at all of the dancers suspiciously. He had to have something to do with the people at this party acting strangely.

Another song began only seconds after the last song had stopped, giving Pacifica barely enough time to gather her thoughts before every male partner in the room fell forward into a deep bow. Dipper was included in this, bending in perfect match with the other boys in the room, but he didn’t bend down nearly as low and kept his eye contact with her. It might have been the heavy conditioning she had received during her ballroom dancing lessons, or it could have simply been the desire to not look stupid in front of so many people, but she did end up lowering into a curtsy. Every other girl in the room followed exactly half a second behind her. Pacifica shot Dipper a furious scowl, knowing now for certain that something was going on here.

He didn’t respond with anything but a wry smile as he stepped towards her.

With one fluid motion, Dipper slipped his hand into hers and placed the other on her waist, catching her off guard. She forced herself not to shiver under the chill of his touch. It was like he was made of ice. It took all her concentration to stop from stumbling as he started leading her backwards with quick, graceful steps. She allowed him to lead her in the dance as he kept in step with everyone else’s waltz.

Though Pacifica didn’t recognize the dance, she did her best to keep up with Dipper’s pace, watching her feet intently. They spun around the room, in precise synchronization with all the other guests. The hand on her waist dropped and she was twirled three times with the fluctuations of the melody, the ends of her dress fluttering at her feet. A squeak of breath escaped her breath when she was guided back into Dipper’s grasp.

“Having trouble keeping up Northwest?” His smooth voice didn’t even break as they floated across the floor. Well he floated, Pacifica was more or less dragged.

“No,” she snapped back without looking up at him. If she did, she would lose her place. “How is everyone doing this? Was there a rehearsal ball or something?”

Right in time with the music again, Dipper let go of her hand and gripped her hips with both hands. He lifted her up of the ground and did a half spin. She gasped in surprise and again when the movement was repeated. One wouldn’t think he had it in him, considering his arms were basically noodles. Pacifica looked up into his eyes in astonishment to find him smirking down at her. She isn’t sure what causes her to notice it, but she can see speckles of brown within the sea green of his irises.

“I will tell you my secret if you tell me yours,” Dipper stated with a tilt of his head. The hand on the small of her back pushed her flush against him. “It would be a shame if you were left in the dark.”

Pacifica bit her lip as she realized they’re proximity. With any other boy, her face would be on fire and the colour of tomatoes. But since this was Dipper Pines, she was thoroughly repulsed. Her eyes didn’t dart back to the floor in order to avoid his, they stayed on him. Sure it took all her will power, but she managed to keep looking at him with the same pissed off expression.

“Do you want the long story or the short one?” she asked breathlessly as he picked up the speed and spun them around faster and faster. She was staring to get dizzy from all this twirling. At this rate she would definitely lose what was left of her footing. It would be mortifying to be knocked off her feet in front of Pines, she would never hear the end of it.

“Let’s start with the short story,” Dipper replied casually, completely unaffected by their constant movement. He even had the nerve to look down at her in condescending amusement.

“I need five hundred pieces of candy,” she said curtly, no longer willing to put up with him anymore. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been forced to converse with people she didn’t like before. But at least she didn’t have to stay trapped in a seemingly endless waltz with them. What made it worse was that he was clearly much better at this than her. Even with the sophisticated lessons she had taken since she was a child, along with the dancing Granny Carla had been teaching her as of late, she was still struggling.

Dipper went silent, which was a nice relief, and his lips tipped into a slight frown. He stared at her expectantly as they continued to move. Their steps were a bit slower now and much easier for Pacifica to keep track of.

“Five hundred pieces of candy,” he repeated.


He let out an indignant scoff and gazed at her with a look that was the closest to disbelief he could probably get to. “Why on earth would you need five hundred pieces of candy?”

“That’s part of the long story,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Then tell me the long story,” Dipper demanded, speaking like he was dealing with a child. Well good. She hoped she was giving him a hard time. The jerk deserved it.

“I pissed off the Summerween trickster because I didn’t give him any candy,” she explained rapidly, taking a brief pause when he swiftly twirled her several times. “He said that if I didn’t get him five hundred pieces of candy, he was going to eat me, along with Melody, Gideon, long hair, and puppet hands.”

“Couldn’t you just go to a store,” Dipper suggested in a dry tone, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

“Gee Pines, I didn’t think of that,” Pacifica said as sarcastically as possible. “None of the stores are open, genius. The town takes this holiday way too seriously.”

Dipper nodded as if he was contemplating what she said with great thought. “So you came here in hopes that we would have free candy on display, so that you can pay off the monster who is threatening you,” he concluded. He regarded her curiously for a moment. “Do you know what type of creature this Summerween Trickster is?”

“It’s not anywhere in the journal,” she answered, a bit uneasy. If Dipper didn’t know about this thing then it wasn’t in his journal either. He knew all the details of that book from front to back.

“You mean it’s not in you’re journal,” he corrected, with the simple objective of getting under her skin.

“Oh I’m sorry, all knowing one,” she sneered in response. “Does your journal say anything about it?”

“Perhaps the first journal has the information,” Dipper purposefully avoided her question, calmly lifting her from the ground again.

Pacifica snorted in derision. “Lot of good that’s going to do me,” she muttered. Regaining her focus, she glared back up at him. “Now tell me what you did to these people.”

“It’s just a spell,” Dipper drawled, as if it was the least interesting thing in the world.

Pacifica’s eyes widened into saucers and she gaped at him. Though she knew she shouldn’t be shocked at his horrible lack of morality. “You cast a spell on everyone here!” she hissed.

“Technically no,” he clarified. “I cast a spell on the room. Anyone who steps onto the dance floor will be forced to participate in the choreography that Mabel created for each song. Since my sister and I cast the spell, we’re not affected. We are simply well versed in the steps.” He paused before looking her over with a cool gaze. “You’re obviously immune as well.”

His hand slowly ran up her arm to her collar bone, leaving behind a cold trail. His long fingers idly plucked at the string around her neck that held the red and black crystal tucked under her dress. The bloodstone that served as her only protection. The only thing that kept him from controlling her, mentally and physically. And apparently the reason she was the only one who was completely lost in this stupid waltz.

“How long will they be forced to be like this?” Pacifica asked in concern. It was horrible that the Pines Twins were forcing these kids to dance for hours on end. Her mind automatically filtered to a fairytale where a girl wore a pair of shoes that had forced her to dance until her feet bled. She shivered at the thought.

Dipper didn’t look up from the necklace and he didn’t answer her question either. She could practically see that computer brain processing and calculating, though she could only guess would he was thinking about. Icy fingers whispered across the skin of her arm, causing her breath to hitch. His stare didn’t leave her neck until their hands were rejoined. Only then did he look back up at her face. His face was vacant, but his eyes were searching, as if he was picking her apart.

“The spell fades away at midnight,” he finally answered. “Everyone will leave the party unscathed. On my part. I’m not sure what Mabel is up to.”

Pacifica didn’t have any other choice than to trust him at that moment. She could figure out how to stop the spell after she took care of the trickster. Gideon was counting on her to get that candy. She couldn’t afford to disappoint him twice in the same night.

“So, candy,” she started, a new determination. To save her loved ones and everyone that surrounded her. “Yay or nay?”

“I suppose I could help you,” he hummed, his voice lowering. “For a price.”

Pacifica already knew what he would want from her, and gave him the answer before he could ask. “I don’t have the journal on me,” she stated with a deadpan stare. “And my friends are watching it.”


“You don’t need to keep staring at the book when you’re holding it Melody.”

“I’m like a hawk.”


“Your bloodstone then,” Dipper suggested, his eyes darting down to her neck and lingering there for a moment before looking back up at her with a smirk. “I’m willing to settle for it.”

“Even if I did give you the stone,” Pacifica said with a roll of her blue and violet eyes. “I still have others hidden throughout the shack.”

“Well I could simply force you to get rid of them, along with your hex bags.” He twirled her away from him and then back into his arms.

“Gideon has his own bloodstones and his own hex bags hidden in the Shack,” she smirked back at him, knowing that there was no way for him to win this one. “Not even I know where he put them. So you’re out of luck there.”

Dipper smiles something that is disturbingly close to genuine fondness. “Clever girl.”

The praise throws her off and causes hints of warning to rise up from the depths of her stomach. But she crushes her discomfort down by focusing on being furious that he called her girl like she was a child or a dog. Before she could express her anger, the music picked up in volume and speed. They waltzed across the ballroom at a pace that was so fast that it forced her to concentrate on the movements. Twirl, step, step, step, lift, step, step, step, twirl out. She was getting a good hang of the music and the dancing now, if anything good came from this dance. As the song drew to a uproarious close, every male in the room dropped their partner into a low dip.

Dipper leaned heavily over her, the expression on his face wasn’t placid, nor was it readable. His arm, wrapped solidly around her waist, was the only thing that kept her from falling to the floor. The fabric at the ends of her dress were splayed on the crimson floor. Pacifica wasn’t sure where to put her hands, so she placed them on Dipper’s shoulders to give her a sense of balance. Looking up at his eyes, she stared at those warm flecks of brown, drowning in eerie sea green.

“God,” he sighed in irritation, as if he had been given the wrong dish at a five star restaurant. His voice was so soft and quiet, it almost threw her off. “That is so inconvenient.”

“What is,” she whispered, unable to comprehend what he meant by that. He kind of said it out of nowhere.

His lost expression shifted to a face stone in the blink of an eye. He quickly pulled her up from her position and pulled his hands away and clasped them behind his back.

“Nothing,” he asserted indifferently. His face was back to his usual look of disinterest. He stared at the spot above her head as he continued to speak. “We may not have five hundred pieces of candy. But I suppose if you’re desperate, you can count them yourself.”

Pacifica rose a questioning eyebrow. Was he just going to give her the candy that could save her life (what a weird phrase)? It seemed uncharacteristically generous. He turned from her sharply walked away from her with long strides, forcing her to run to catch up with him. These weird traces of actual emotion in Pines were starting to get creepy. She was starting to regret coming to this party.

“What about the price?” Pacifica panted when she ran up beside him. “You don’t want one of my fingers or my blood or any other freaky thing.”

He turned his head ever so slightly to give her a small smirk. At least that was more like Dipper. “I’ll think something up.”


I watched way too many ballroom dancing videos while making this. Not so subtle reference to Love Actually in there. Dipper realizes he’s got feelings. And damn is it ever inconvenient.

Finally chose what Pacifica’s helpful spell blocking crystal was. Bloodstone, the name sounded super cool so I decided to use it. The actual stone (known as heliotrope) can be used as a grounding and protecting stone that keeps out undesirable influences. I’m pretty sure it can be found in the United States, so why not have a supply in Gravity Falls that blocks off magic and spells. As long as Pacifica has it on her, Dipper can’t use his amulet or his mind control on her. Nor can she be affected by magic room spells that force you to dance.

Roman AU has arrived!!!! Many thanks to everyone who encouraged me as I struggled to find the way to put it into words. Even more thanks to the amazing @tel-abelas-mofo, without whom this piece would be a grammatical mess and be sorely lacking in some areas. Check her out, if you haven’t already!!!

The Threads that Break Us - Read on Ao3

Tevinter is an empire with sights set on all of Thedas as a prize. Orlais, The Marches, and Nevarra are all under Tevene rule.
Tevinter had set its sights on the city of Arlathan, the last remnant of the crumbling Elvhen empire. Its crystal spires stood tall and proud, a constant mockery and reminder of what the Imperium could not have. They are ‘allies’, as much as anyone can be allies with Tevinter- hidden meanings, sharp tongues, quick wits and political maneuvering to keep themselves apart, both rife with betrayal and greed.
Prophecies speak of a wolf, woken to walk among The People again - but destined to be their downfall if he does not overcome his Pride. And now, a man, once a relic of Tevinter’s glorious conquest of Andraste and her armies, is said to have returned, bringing death and destruction in his wake.
Gladiators, magic, slaves, scholars, nobility, battles of mind and body, inflamed passions, forbidden love, politics and subterfuge and the price of power.
And a vigilante who the whispers in the streets name the “Herald of Andraste”, bent on taking down the Empire one notch at a time.

Chapter One: Prophecy

She walks, hands bound and chin held high despite the sea of sneering faces and cruel words. She barely manages not to flinch as a stone is cast so near that it grazes her ear, a burning pain erupting where it tears the skin. She will not let them see her fear, these heathens, more monsters than men. She closes her eyes, tries not to focus on the feel of the spear in the small of her back, keeping her moving through the hostile throng of beasts who froth at the mouth and long to see her blood stain the dirt beneath their boots. She failed, the screams of the remnants of her armies reaching her ears above the din as they are slaughtered where they stand… where they continue to fight. She tried. Oh, she had tried.

She wonders at the fate of her people - the slaves she freed - the slaves she sent scattered to the winds when she heard tell of the legions bearing down upon them. She knows what will happen - though she dares to hope that they find their freedom, that all they have fought for and gained has not been for naught. A wretched cry tears itself from her throat as she falls, white-hot pain blossoming across her temple. They all cheer as she hits the earth, gasping raggedly when she feels her shoulder crunch upon impact. She is distantly aware of the blood trailing down her face, and through dim vision she sees a stone stained red from where it struck.

She is not afraid.

The one who holds the spear hauls her to her feet, cruel hands finding purchase in her hair. She cannot hold back the hiss it provokes, prompting a satisfied laugh from the assailant. He releases her when her feet find hold of the earth, shoving her through the parting masses, the revealed path’s end at a stake upon a pyre, already heavily burdened with pitch and kindling. She swallows, raises her chin, feeling a drop of blood roll off of her cheek and onto the hardened leather adorning her chest. She does not flinch as they spit upon her, does not look, does not think - her gaze fixed only upon the fate that awaits - steps drawing her ever closer.

Dirt gives way to creaking wood, shackles replaced with biting rope as she is thrust against the unforgiving beam, forced to face the horde that slew her armies. She lets her gaze travel over them, harsh and proud, holding her head high. Her eyes fall upon an elf on his knees, head bowed low and arms bound behind him. She feels her heart stutter, and her lips part on a silent plea, begging it to not be so. He lifts his head, eyes of striking blue meeting hers, set into a face she knows all too well. They widen, and he jerks against his restraints, pain writ clear upon his features.

“No!” He bellows, and is stricken across the face in response, sending him tumbling sideways into the dirt. He snarls and makes to move against the one who struck him, but he sees the subtle shake of her head, the sadness in her eyes, and he relents. Her heart aches to see him - though she knows that he would have never gotten away. He is too important to them, just as she is. His sword lies broken before him, work forged by loving hands undone. She cannot tear her gaze away.

“What a delight to have such an esteemed guest!” A voice booms above the crowd, jeers and angry voices silenced immediately at the sound. A man steps from the throng, handsome face betrayed by the cruelty in his gaze and manner. She lets her eyes fall upon him, narrowing at the mantle of imperator settled on his shoulders. He steps forward with a smirk, reaching for the golden sunburst that hangs from a chain around her neck.

“The mysterious Lady of Flame,” he growls, tearing the chain from her body with a snap of his wrist. “One wonders why you do not call fire upon us now?” His smirk turns feral, and he leans close enough that she can smell his foul breath. “Perhaps your power has abandoned you, just as your Maker.” She does not meet his gaze, instead turning back towards the elf in the dirt, watching her with anguish. She closes her eyes. The imperator clicks his tongue, taking her chin in his hand. “How different life could have been had you not spurned me all those years ago,” he says, face softening. “You could have been happy. Treasured.” He pauses, face contorted in confusion. “But you chose a life of hardship, and look where it has led. A failed rebellion, crushed beneath the heel you could have served.” She tears her chin from his grasp, her eyes filled with flame.

“I preferred poverty to the chains you offered,” she spits, finding her mark on his cheek. He chuckles, wiping the spittle from his face and tossing the sunburst into the dust. She squeezes her eyes shut, wills the screams to stop.

“Do you have any last words, Lady?”

Her eyes snap open, and she fixes him with the full power of her gaze and all of the anger beneath. “This is not the end,” she whispers. “More will rise where I have fallen, and they will finish what I started. You will burn, Corypheus, you and your precious Empire.”

“Perhaps,” he smirks. “But you will burn first.” He gestures to someone behind her. “Now, let us see if the Mistress of Fire can indeed control the flames!” he roars, met with the answering din of the crowd.

She hears the torch clatter against the wood of the pyre and she feels the heat that erupts upon contact. She meets the elf’s eyes one last time. Her elf.

“Andraste!” he screams.

Shartan. The breath to form his name is stolen as she is consumed.


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furyeclipse  asked:

Got any headcanons for Werewolf Hanzo, MerHanzo and Demon Hanzo? :D

Yes! I do, actually! Especially for the last one uwu 

Werewolf Hanzo -

A very silent type of wolf who observes his surroundings with extreme caution. His dark grey fur is etched with lighter, nearly silver, grey which compliments his eyes and overall appearance. While it makes the large beast look beautiful it also makes him look much wiser than any other wolf. Yes, he’s greying – once black fur now grey.

He’s a very protective one, keeping his mate close to him at any cost no matter the situation. He won’t risk having them hurt due to some foolish distraction. He always keeps an eye on them even if it seems he’s too occupied doing something else.

He bears his transformations with a surprising ease and it’s terrifying how calm he is about the pain when it happens. He won’t let the pain show and will try to shoo you away if you ask if he’s sure he’s okay.

He is very emotionally unstable therefore some of the transformations don’t exactly work out how they’re supposed to. He’s in conflict with himself and he has been ever since he fought his brother for the alpha title of the pack. Sometimes his wounds won’t heal when shifting to or from the wolf form, yet he won’t ask for help no matter how painful it is when in fact he needs immediate medical attention.

On top of that he and the wolf inside tend to not get along, fighting for power and control. This might lead to the wolf taking over completely and causing Hanzo to lost control over his primal needs. While very energy draining, Hanzo will fight back with all he has in order to stop the feral wolf. Most of the time he succeeds, at other times – although very rarely – he will be too exhausted to keep fighting, either letting the wolf roam free and do as he pleases or falling into days of slumber as soon as he’s back in his human self.

Merman Hanzo -

The bottom part of his body is one of a sea-dragon, so to speak. His tail is abnormally long and it is often mistaken by the sailors to be a giant sea snake which either leads them to retreat in panic or attempt to catch him.

While he doesn’t like being around humans he does find their cultures to be really fascinating in comparison to how he grew up. As a younger merman he used to spend hours listening to the sound of children playing in water while their parents talked about all the different things Hanzo had no idea about – it was amazing to him to know that the creatures walking on two legs and dominating the lands are so very technically advanced. At first, he didn’t understand a word they said; with time he learnt.

However, after his brother’s death he has been avoiding the land like the plague. It reminds him of Genji, of how he dragged him to watch the loud, exploding lights  that one time and told him all about them. Fireworks, he called them. While Hanzo warned him about them he didn’t listen, it was thanks to him he realised that, while dangerous, humans can be very interesting and beautiful.

Now, however, he despises them even more than he did before Genji proved him otherwise. He despises them, wants them to perish, he will not forgive them for what they did to his brother. He will have his revenge, all in the memory of his beloved younger brother.

When he was younger he found two very strange, blue fish-like creatures, long and slim, their scales shimmering in a mesmerising way; unlike anything Hanzo has ever seen. There seemed to be protecting one of their own, a slightly smaller green one, which struggled to swim due to how terribly it was injured. Those creatures were quite small at first, no longer than arm’s length but years later they grew to enormous sizes, they now protect the older Shimada like one of their own.

(The green one went missing the day Genji disappeared – Hanzo supposes it was either killed with his brother or it couldn’t deal with the younger Shimada’s death and its still trying to search for him in the deep, vast ocean.)

Demon Hanzo -

Once a very sarcastic and powerful demon who will sometimes take advantage of those weaker than him to feed off of their life force and/or happiness. Depending on whether or not the person is of a good heart or not he might consider leaving them be.

He has built a shrine in memory of his younger brother which he visits every season to pay his respects and apologise for what he has done. He deserved to be stripped of most of his powers and cursed by the Gods.

Now he blends in with the ordinary humans in an attempt to live a mortal life as a punishment for striking his brother down, blinded with power. At first it was difficult for him to fit in but after decades of walking with human beings, ones he thought of as no better than dirt; he now sees the mortal world for the beauty he never thought existed.

Every morning he wakes up early to help an elderly woman cross a busy street, in return she sometimes rewards him by inviting him for tea. In the time he has spent on earth as a human he never felt more welcome.

With the rest of his powers that he has, he would put his life and entire existence on line in order to protect the one he loves. It doesn’t matter that his immortal life will come to an end, as long as he knows they get to live on. He will stay with them to the end of times regardless and even give up his immortality to stay with them.

(note: v frisky in bed.)

"We are ready to depart, my lady."

She nods her head as she continues to look at the sight before. She took a deep breath taking in the salt of the ocean and sweets from her garden below her. She was going to miss her home. Though she would be gone for only a week, she would still miss it.

“Very well.” She turned to look behind her seeing her adviser standing on the top of the stairs. “Do you think I’m rushing things?”

Said adviser arched his eyebrow. “You’re asking me? You’re the one that wanted to go on this unexpected adventure. Everyone almost fell out their seats when you, unexpectedly I might add, decided to embark on this journey.”

The queen sighed deeply. “I know I am the one that set this visit in motion…but I…” She fell silent unable to put her rambling thoughts into words.

Her trusted adviser and friend came down the stairs to stand beside her. “Are you nervous?”

“Not nervous exactly.” The queen tore her attention away from her garden and stare down at her friend. “I’m excited.” She smiled brightly unable to contain it any longer. “I’ve heard many things about her. About her strength. Her wisdom. Her magic. Her coven. Her husband and children. I want to know more.”

Her adviser nodded for her to continue.

“I want to know why so many speak so highly of her. I want to know why so many powerful figures of the supernatural align themselves with her. I want to know of the beauty that not only took the heart of a vicious creature that have been walking on this earth for over a thousand years but as well as the infamous Wolf King. Sister of a Witness and once the lover to the now leader of the Underworld.“

“I wonder how Crowley feels about that? Must have stung to be fired…again. I’d pity the poor fool if I actually cared.”

The queen smiled malevolently. “Serves the bastard right. It’s about time someone knock him down a few pegs. He was getting a bit too comfortable sitting on that ghastly throne of his. I hope wherever he is, he’s suffering a great amount of pain.”

“Yes…but now there is a new threat with this new demon clan of the Underworld. We know nothing about him or his minions. We don’t know how he run things. We don’t know if he and his miscreants will become a problem for us.”

“Exciting isn’t it?”

The adviser huffed. “Of course you would be happy about this. You’re overjoyed that there is a new maniac leading the Underworld while us normal people are plagued with worry and fear.”

“There is nothing to fear.” Blue eyes ablazed staring down at her adviser. “I would burn anyone and everyone to ash if they lay harm to you, my court, and the people of my cities. You know that.”

The adviser nodded his head knowing what his queen say is true. He would be a fool to think otherwise. “That may be so -”

“It is so.”

“- there is nothing wrong with being cautious. I haven’t met this leader. Shades they call him, but I hear he is nasty fellow. Merciless and vicious. He has no allegiance, only to her.”

Her Highness nodded in agreement. “Which makes me even more curious of her.”

The adviser stared at his queen cautiously. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you were growing an obsessive crush for this woman.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. She’s quite beautiful.”

The queen face burned red. “You hush. I only want to meet her. Not only meet her, but know her. I want to see the woman behind the lavish titles. I want to meet the woman under the crown.”

“And you shall.” Her adviser held out his hand. “Are you ready, my queen?”

The queen stared back out at her city. She took in one last breath of the sea and the people below her. She let the familiar scorching sun caress her fair skin, warmth seeping into her bones. she listened to the life crawling in the earth and fowls taking flight in the air. With one last nod, the queen opened her eyes taking in everything into memory. It was time to go. “I’m ready.”

She turned away from the sight and took the Hand of the Queen’s hand into hers and gathered her silk light blue gown in the other. “Come Tyrion, we cannot be late. Jon and Sansa is waiting for us.”

“Good. I know they’ve been getting restless since you told them you wanted them to accompany you.”

“They seem on edge to you?”

“That’s putting it lightly.” Tyrion rolled his eyes. “They’re entering into new territory. This is the first time they have traveled outside of the Isles. They have a right to be on edge, as you say.”

“It is mine as well. I hope it will be a welcoming experience. What was this place called again?”

“New Orleans, my queen.”

“Have you been?”

“Oh yes. I loved it. Very cultured. Beautiful buildings. Many places to enjoy and lively people. Wonderful place with great music and the food is delicious. The alcohol selection is stupendous. There’s this one place on Bourbon street that sells the best wine. I forgot the name of the establishment.”

“Too drunk to remember?”

“Most likely. Don’t judge me, my queen.”

A bell like laughter shrilled through the air. “I would never.”

“The women are beautiful as well! I can’t wait to get my hands on -.”

“Tyrion,” Daenerys Targaryen chided her Hand. “We are strictly going for business matters. Not fun.”

“Ruiner.” Tyrion muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, my queen.”

Daenerys side eyed her friend then look upon the horizon seeing Jon Snow and Sansa Stark waiting by their transportation.

“This is the beginning of a new chapter. Making new friends.”

“And new enemies.” A smirk curled at the end of her lips thinking of the possibility facing new challenges. “Come Tyrion,” The young queen pulled at her adviser’s hand. “Let’s meet this Mother of New Orleans.” Gold reptilian eyes glowed with excitement and mirth.

A raven flew down to perch on Daenerys’ shoulder. She whispered a message to the bird then kissed its beak. The raven cawed then took flight leaving its mistress.

Later on that night, Bonnie Bennett-Mikaelson was tucking her daughter into her bed after having a Girls Only Day with Aunt Gigi, Freya, Lucy, Rebekah, and her Godmother Hayley when a tap on a window was heard.

Bonnie stood from her daughter’s bed seeing a raven sitting on the windowsill. The witch kissed Aurora’s head then covered her tiny body in her Princess and the Frog blanket before she moved to the window.

“What do we have here?” The Bennett-Mikaelson held out her hand waiting for the bird to perch on her finger. It didn’t make a move towards her. “Come on. I won’t bite, I promise.”

The raven neck twitch side to side staring at Bonnie before it hopped up on her finger.

“Good girl. You’re such a good girl.” Bonnie stroke the raven’s dark feathers. “Now, tell me why you’re here.”

Bonnie continued to stroke the bird as she listened to the message. The voice that rung through her head like a bell. It was soft and inviting but held authority. As she continued to listen, her thinned lips gradually turned into a grin. Excitement bloomed into the witch’s chest.

“What’s that smile for?”

Bonnie fleetingly turned to her husband then back down to the raven. “We will be having a guest soon.”

“A guest?” Klaus quietly walked over to his sleeping daughter to kiss her soundly on the top of her head. He just finished checking in on the other three. They were sound asleep just like his little girl.

Like the girls having their day out, the boys did the same. They just got back from Pensacola Beach enjoying the nice spring weather. When they came back to the Tudor home, Lucas, Henrik, and Aleksander was down for the count. The older ones went straight to bed. Elijah took Alek and a night bag to his and Gia’s loft to spend the night. Today was a good day for the Bennett-Mikaelson family.

“What kind of guest?” He asked before he stroked Aurora’s tiny fingers with his big ones. “One that I can tear into, I hope.”

Bonnie shook her head. “Stop that.” She leaned back into the solidness of his husband’s chest when she felt him come near. She relaxed into his welcomed embrace snuggling into him deep. Bonnie leaned her head back on his shoulder waiting for her kiss she had been craving since earlier to today. He did not disappoint. How could he ever? “This guest only want to talk. To me mostly.”

“To you?” Bonnie hummed as she kissed along her hybrid’s strong jaw. She missed him so much. “And who is this guest?”

“A queen.”

Klaus’ eyebrows pinched together, lips pulled into a deep frown. “What queen?”

“The Queen of the Lost Cities. Mother of Dragons they call her.”

Klaus’ frown grew deeper. “And what does this queen want with you? Why is she entering into our city?”

“Just to talk, isn’t that right lovely Isabelle?”


“The raven.” Bonnie stroked Isabella’s dark feathers. “It’s the queen’s. Isn’t she precious?” She kissed the top of her feathered head.

“Bonnie, put that down. It might have rabies.”

“Oh stop it. It does not have rabies. She’s healthy, aren’t you girl? Yes you are.” Bonnie cooed.

Klaus rolled his eyes at the sight. Truly sickening. He couldn’t stand most birds if not all of them. They were all rats with wings. “When is this…queen coming?”

“Two days. Three tops.” Bonnie leaned down to whisper a message to the raven. When she was done, she kissed the bird on top of its head ignoring the distaste on Klaus’ face. “She’s coming with her trusted adviser.” She lifted her hand holding the raven out the window. She watched the winged creature fly away before she continued. “She’s also coming with Sansa Stark and her brother, Jon Snow.”

“The one who knows nothing.” Bonnie slapped her husband’s arm telling him to hush. “Why are they coming?”

“I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see.”

Klaus leaned down to kiss his lovely wife’s lips ever so gently. “Two queens in one city.”


“The Mother of Dragons and the Mother of New Orleans finally meet.”

“Exciting isn’t it?” Bonnie twisted into Klaus’ embrace wrapping her arms around his neck. “Two queens. Two strong beautiful women figures standing in one place.”

“I don’t care for the Dragon woman. I only have eyes for one queen. My queen.”

Bonnie leaned up to kiss her hybrid’s pillowy red lips. “I love when you get sappy.” Bonnie kissed him again. “It makes me all warm and gooey inside.”

“Does it really?” Klaus muttered against his wife’s sinful lips. Bonnie hummed as he continues to kiss her. “I’d do anything for my queen.”


Klaus stared down at Bonnie and he swore he felt his dead heart lodge in his throat. Green eyes glowed under the silver moon rays and stars that shined through the window. She was looking up at him, chin resting on his collar bone, nails raking through his curly hair. Her crooked smile was giving him life. He lived for that smile. He couldn’t be without it.

Love and happiness exploded in his chest feeling their bond strum to life. He loved this and he loved her. He smoothed tendrils of hair that fell from Bonnie’s ponytail behind her ears. He brushed his nose against hers, forehead touches, lips inches apart. This was his. This was his Bonnie.


Bonnie kissed Klaus’ chin then rested her head on his chest. “Take me to bed, my king.”

The next morning, the raven arrived back to her mistress. She and her party were hours away from the airport to take them to New Orleans. Daenerys held out her hand and watched the bird gracefully land on her finger. She brought Isabelle to perch on her shoulder as she relay the good news.

The dragon woman smirk grew into a blinding smile as she heard Bonnie’s voice. Daenerys turned to Tyrion who was waiting for his queen to say something.

“Well…” He started. “What did she say?”

Daenerys giggled then stared out the window seeing the world pass her by. “She says she’ll be waiting with a bottle of her best wine.” Tyrion face scrunched up in confusion. “She said she has been waiting for me. She tells me we have much to discuss.”


“What else?” The Mother of Dragon eyes gleamed with mirth. “A alliance.”

“A alliance?” Tyrion shook his head. “How…how can this…you two haven’t even met yet and now there is a alliance?”

“She would like to speak with Sansa as well but that will be after me and her had our talk. Another queen will be joining us, along with someone accompanying her. Someone named Merlin.” The queen shrugged her shoulder. “It seems we all have a mutal enemy that I did not know we shared.” She turned back to the window, smile still not leaving her face. “I was right, you know?”

Tyrion rubbed his face trying to stay calm about the dangers they were about to face. “And what is that?”

His stomach twisted in ugly knots as the familiar gold reptilian eyes came alive once again. Teeth and nails now long and sharp, and ears pointed with black scales peeking from under her flesh. The Mother of Dragons was alive. Above her hiding in the clouds as they soar, was her three dragons, following their mother.

“This is quite exciting.”

Pt. 1 of 2 @irresistible-revolution dedication drabbles. For you love 😊❤

Originally posted by cumayagittikgelecegiz

Beck And Call

Embry Call imagine requested by awesomedaisyisd. “Embry imagine where the reader has a nightmare, and they call him on their cellphone, he comes over, climbing in through her window to comfort her.” Hope you like it!

It happened suddenly and simply; one moment, you were staring down the hardened gaze of a frozen killer, irises unmoving, focused, nearly serene in their concentration. His face was admittedly beautiful, and the part of you that possessed knowledge of the danger you faced, literally, was overwhelmed with a sense of peace; how could anyone that stunning, that pure, have any intention other than good? Your instincts were at war; all you had learned from your history with Sam Uley’s pack had taught you to flee at the sight of such a beast, that crimson irises were a herald of death, that even though a struggle was useless, it was best to cause even insignificant hassle for the monster before you. And yet… his face still held the innocence of youth. He couldn’t have been older than twenty, physically, with cheeks still plump with the roundness of childhood, not yet carved into craters by the stress and responsibility of life. You knew, despite his obvious beauty, that he would end your life quicker than you could prevent. As the beast stepped forward, a painless grin painting his lips, you caught movement in the corner of your eye, an unassuming flash of black shining like obsidian in the sun. Without once hesitating or ceasing pursuit, the monster reached forward, grasping a hold of Embry Call’s neck as gently as if he intended to cradle the boy. Embry’s eyes were calm as he stepped between you and the vampire, forcing his body to become a barricade, following Sam’s orders in a most ultimate and extreme manner. His features were uncreased and elastic, his brows straight in his serenity, his lips tugging downward with grim, if willing, acceptance. With his eyes drilling unspoken apologies into yours, his neck was guided by alabaster hands to a most inhuman angle, his body crumpling quietly to the earth below, his eyes losing focus almost as soon as the creature behind him twisted his wrist. It had been so simple. You could not bring yourself to lift your gaze from the twisted corpse at your feet, not even to meet the eyes of the monster approaching, his polished shoes creeping over the body of the boy who had loved you enough to sacrifice his life in hopes of preserving yours, the boy whose heart had stopped beating at the drop of a pin to ensure your own continued to pulse within the confines of your chest. Your own death came as suddenly as Embry’s; you hardly remembered the vice-tight hold of frigid fingers clamping around your throat, and you were numbed to the shortness of breath that should have followed. Instead, your world began to haze over like steam on a mirror, fogging your view of your savior, his eyes open to the world, seeing nothing, as your surroundings faded to a blank.

Your eyes fluttered open as if from a dream, as if you had merely woken from a sea of flowers instead of a scene as gruesome as you had experienced. Normally, you found your nightmares were punctuated in sweat and a struggle for breath, sheets tangled about your limbs like vines, suspending you thousands of feet above reality. Tonight was calmer, less hectic, though this terror had been much stronger than any you’d yet to be tortured by. You’d dreamt of Embry’s death on many occasions before, which was only to be expected when you were fully aware of the danger he put himself in during his routine hunts. As vampires encroached on the borders of the wolves’ territory, you were plagued with visions of animals being torn in two by the unnatural strength both the wolves and their foes possessed, but Embry rarely survived your imagined battles unscathed. You’d witnessed his body being laid on his mother’s dining room table, long, lanky limbs hanging limp over the edges. You’d watched from beyond the treeline as his jugular was pierced by teeth sharp as razors, his body reverting to the figure of an injured boy, his palms slick with scarlet blood as he fought to slow the impossible flow of blood spurting from his throat. In reality, he had shown no reason for you to be afraid for his well-being; Embry was as accustomed to fighting in his wolf form as he was to holding your hand while human; it was as simple as breathing, and he phased as quickly as the thought presented. He had always been skilled, and he had always returned to your side, crowing tales of victory, his eyes burning brightly beneath the glare of the sun. Never before had his death been linked to you, never had it been your fault, even if indirectly. You ran a hand over your forehead, swiping instinctively at the clammy dew you’d come to expect, your palm sliding easily from your smooth skin, unhindered by masses of salted water. Your lungs filled easily with the stale, unmoving air of your bedroom, your eyes boring sightless punctures in your darkened ceiling. Your mind raced to replay the events of your nightmare, the moment you realized Embry was interfering, the moment his eyes lost their intensity on yours, surrendering fully to unfeeling death.

You shook the image from your mind, your head spinning as your eyes fought for stability in the unpredictable darkness of your bedroom. You reached blindly towards your nightstand, your fingers scouring the papers and discarded jewelry until you encountered the smooth glass of your cellphone. With the touch of a button, your bedroom was illuminated in a numbing white-blue light, washing the colour from your furnishings, drenching your walls in monochromatic shadows. You dialed the only number you could think of that held a remedy to your concerns, no matter how illogical. As the mechanical ringing reverberated around your room, your mind began to race once more. First ring: what if he was sleeping? You tried not to wake him when he was able to catch his limited rest shift during the night; the boy hardly ever had a chance to enjoy a full five hours of sleep, and you could be the cause of yet another bout of exhaustion. Second ring: perhaps he was… incapable of answering your call. He only ever kept his jeans and his underwear with him when he was running on all fours. Your call could very well go unnoticed. By the third ring, the receiving line picked up, and Embry’s voice was crunching through your phone like gravel through a sifter, his tone preaching volumes on his level of fatigue.

“Y/n?” he whispered, his volume docked to ensure his mother wouldn’t wake at the sound of his voice. You could almost see him as he rubbed at his eyes, his brows knitting in confusion and worry. He didn’t sound as if you’d woken him. Sam must be having him running border checks, and that was hardly ever a good sign. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” You cleared your throat, your eyes on the ceiling, your spine melting into the cushion of your mattress. He knew you all too well; calling at night implied an error in your usual routine, given the possibility of interrupting his own. You sighed, chewing your lip as you thought  of how best to formulate your response. “Y/n, are you there?” You sniffled, fighting the tears that threatened to build along your waterline, your voice emerging from the depths of your throat a cracked and busted version of what you’d hoped would pass for steady.

“I’m here, Embry, I’m…” your voice faltered and broke, your throat closing as the images of his death painted themselves on the blank expanse of your ceiling. Your cheeks blazed like the final embers of a dying fire at the thought of your own embarrassing wordlessness. Once more, you shook your head, attempting to either scramble your thoughts or knock them into order, you didn’t have a preference. “Em, I’m… I can’t…” Before you could organize your speech into a pattern easily recognizable as English, you heard Embry’s line muffle and crunch with his movement, the telltale sound of his window opening cluing you in on his actions before he thought to speak of them.

“I’m on my way over. Unlock your window. I can be there in five, maybe six minutes. You’re not hurt, are you?” The smooth calm of his voice quickened to panic, which you quickly shut down.

“Not hurt, no. Not physically,” you responded, your tone wavering like broken branches in the wind, your throat scratching over every word before release. You heard the rush of wind against the speaker, followed by a solid thump. His breathing was unaltered by the speed at which he ran towards the woods beside his home, but you could hear the sound of his clothing as it was dropped to the dew dampened earth below.

“Six minutes. I have to ditch my phone so I can phase, okay? I’ll be there soon,” he promised, his pace sped along by the power of his anxiety. “I love you, okay? Don’t lock me out,” he whispered, your lips turning upward at the corners, if only slightly. You returned his token of adoration, watching the line go dead, your body lying numbly atop your tangled sheets. You inhaled slowly, working yourself from your bed, your feet padding quietly against your floorboards as you shuffled to your window, flipping the latch and working the frame upward, exposing your skin to the cooling rush of night air. your fingers thrummed against the windowsill, running absentmindedly over the grain of the wood, the pads of your thumbs rubbing circles into the ledge. Your eyes scanned the woods beyond your window, watching for any movement, for any sign that Embry, wolf or not, had arrived. When he finally emerged from the forest, he was clad only in jean shorts, hand-cropped just above the knee, his eyes finding yours instantaneously. He hiked his waistband, bending his knees at the base of your home, his hand warning you away from the ledge. You watched in silent admiration as he scaled the side of your house, first climbing vertically with the assistance of your rain gutter, next by leaping for your window. He pulled himself inside with impressive strength, tucking his legs over the edge, his feet landing silently on the floor of your room. He twisted his body, shutting your window before reaching for your waist, guiding you into the safety and comfort of his chest. You buried your face in the crook of his shoulder, allowing the heat of his body to relax the tension building in you muscles. His open palms ran down the ridges of your spine, clutching at the fabric of your shirt, cementing you to his form. “Shh, you’re alright. You’re gonna be fine,” he lulled, his voice a quiet whisper on the wind of his every breath. His lips pressed to your temple with a gentle softness he reserved only for times of high stress and injury, most of which matched your current situation to a tee. He was smart enough to piece the puzzle of your mind together before arriving. He worked the both of you backwards until you were sitting atop your bedspread, your legs folded as Embry cradled you, his breath warm against your scalp. “What was it this time?” he inquired, his voice inching on humour, falling drastically short of the intended appeal. You emptied your lungs of air, feeling the weight of the organs intensify within your chest as they deflated, your mind scrambling for the easiest description.

“It was a vampire,” you admitted, feeling his chest move against your cheek as he breathed a confident chuckle; he was under the assumption that he and his pack-mates were invincible to vampire attacks. You continued, Embry’s attention as tangible as his hands roaming your back, kneading knots from your sides. “I was the target, and he started to come for me… you stepped between us,” you paused, your chest tightening as you recalled his stance, his acceptance. Embry was silent, likely anticipating what he had already guessed was the outcome. “You didn’t even turn to look at him, Embry, didn’t turn to fight… or phase. You just… you looked at me, and I could see in your eyes that you knew you would-” you choked on your words, feeling the warmth of water trail from your eyes, droplets streaking over your cheekbones. “You just watched me, and you were… it looked like you just wanted to see me before… before it ended.“ You closed your eyes, watching the scene replay, the emotions dancing behind Embry’s eyes piercing your heart, the unadulterated expression of relishing those last seconds, and the silent snap of his neck. Embry shifted his hold on you, resting his chin atop your head, rocking his torso from side to side, his grip ever tighter around your body.

“I’m okay. I’m here,” he breathed, his heart beating against your cheek. You were both silent for the following few minutes until Embry’s voice broke through the air, a hesitant and confident tenor for so tender a moment. “You know, this probably isn’t what you want to hear, but… I’d do it for you. It wouldn’t even be a question. If it came down to you or me… it’d be me, every time. Y/n,” he shifted, his hand ghosting to your cheek, angling your face upward until your eyes met his. “You’re all I care about. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, nothing I wouldn’t risk to keep you safe. There isn’t a single scenario that would keep me from stepping between you and something that could hurt you, and I know you know that. I know it’s not easy to hear, and Hell, it’s even weirder to say out loud,” his eyes traveled to the ceiling, his exhale steady. “But I would risk my life for you, drop of a hat. You mean that much to me. And it isn’t just the imprinting that makes me say this… you’re just too important to die. I love you too much. I couldn’t live without you, not anymore. So, I’m sorry, but I’d do it for you.” You ducked your face to his chest, oddly comforted by his words despite the fact that they serviced to prove the likelihood of your nightmare becoming a reality. Embry would never let anything harm you, and as long as you were locked within the protective heat of his embrace, you were safe. For now, at least, you could manage in the comfort of his company.

100 Reasons to Live
  • 1. You are loved.
  • 2. The best day ever hasn’t come yet.
  • 3. There are puppies you haven’t pet.
  • 4. Everything changes so eventually it will get better.
  • 5. People adore you and admire you for everything you’ve gone through.
  • 6. Your mistakes don’t define you.
  • 7. The past was hard, but that’s not all there is.
  • 8. Just like you, wild flowers grow all on their own and still manage to look beautiful.
  • 9. People can say whatever they want, but you can react however you want.
  • 10. If your world is small now, remember that the universe is constantly expanding, as is yours, and will never stop.
  • 11. When someone hates you, there’s someone who loves you thrice more.
  • 12. It doesn’t matter if they don’t forgive you. All that matters is if you forgive yourself.
  • 13. Animals are cute throughout any stage of life.
  • 14. Miracles happen daily.
  • 15. Everyone would miss you because however big, you are a part of their world.
  • 16. Someday, you will be someone’s entire world.
  • 17. Your favorite food tastes like heaven.
  • 18. Every sunrise and every sunset is gorgeous and unique.
  • 19. Even if you have bad days, you have good days too.
  • 20. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel.
  • 21. You can cherish the little things. All of them add up to a big thing.
  • 22. Different kinds of kisses.
  • 23. This world has no limit on possibilities.
  • 24. Time doesn’t end. There will always be more if you need it to think, to plan, to recover, or to savor.
  • 25. Hugs.
  • 26. Warm cozy blanket-cocoons in the middle of the winter.
  • 27. If you don’t think you have a purpose, that’s no reason to cut everything off. You will always have one, you just may not know what it is yet. Live looking for a purpose.
  • 28. Humans have intelligence, reasoning, and natural talent. It’s impossible to not be awesome at something.
  • 29. A mirror is a piece of glass. A camera is a machine. Neither can tell you if you’re pretty or not.
  • 30. You can mix two dull colors to make a vibrant hue no one’s ever seen before.
  • 31. People will constantly surprise you with how much they care in the simplest of ways.
  • 32. No one will ever forget you.
  • 33. What you aren’t given, but you need, you will eventually find yourself.
  • 34. No one ever stops growing. If you don’t know who you are right now, that’s okay; you’ll eventually blossom into a brand-new you.
  • 35. Smile because the world would be so very dark without it.
  • 36. Laughing makes everything better.
  • 37. You can love yourself and not be conceited.
  • 38. Strength comes from endurance and experience.
  • 39. You can bring a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. You can be born into this world, but this world doesn’t owe you anything. It only gives you the opportunity to be happy. It’s completely up to you whether or not to take it.
  • 40. There will always be places you’ve never been to.
  • 41. At the beach, there is garbage, and then there are sea shells. Don’t look for just the trash. Focus on the sea shells.
  • 42. You can make anyone happy.
  • 43. There’s so much to look forward to.
  • 44. Sand in between your toes.
  • 45. Rain on your skin and in your hair.
  • 46. Many are jealous of you.
  • 47. Even if you lose something, you’ve always had your heart that’s been through everything with you.
  • 48. Boyfriends and girlfriends and friends come and go, but true best friends are forever.
  • 49. Everything happens for a reason, but none so great that you are expendable.
  • 50. Blue skies.
  • 51. Warm and cool breezes.
  • 52. Cuddling with kittens.
  • 53. You haven’t met that someone special yet.
  • 54. Someone needs you.
  • 55. There are goals you haven’t accomplished yet.
  • 56. Hair is soft after you brush it.
  • 57. Relaxing bubble baths.
  • 58. Walks in the park.
  • 59. Drives through the countryside.
  • 60. Butterflies with luminous wings.
  • 61. Jewelry worth more than gold.
  • 62. Songs that soothe your soul.
  • 63. Dancing that gets your heart pumping.
  • 64. Inside jokes with your friends and family.
  • 65. You’re not alone.
  • 66. There are billions of humans living on earth. Of those billions, there’s hundreds, if not thousands, that are like you and will like you.
  • 67. Daydreaming.
  • 68. Magic is real in every pair of eyes.
  • 69. Your hands were made to hold others’.
  • 70. Your feet were made to take you places.
  • 71. So many recipes haven’t been discovered yet.
  • 72. Genetic engineering is advancing by the day. Pretty soon, we will have dragons.
  • 73. When sunshine meets rain, a rainbow is formed.
  • 74. The color from sunsets come from light pollution, meaning even damaged things can be beautiful.
  • 75. Books give you worlds to go to if you want to escape this one.
  • 76. You can be spontaneous whenever you want.
  • 77. There’s always something new to learn.
  • 78. People love your laugh and your smile.
  • 79. It’s impossible to be ugly.
  • 80. Scales don’t define you.
  • 81. Stars are stunning with their tiny light.
  • 82. You can ride wheelie chairs down hills.
  • 83. Exercise boosts endorphins—chemicals that make you happy—so it’s worth it to get out of bed.
  • 84. Your favorite piece of clothing.
  • 85. Confidence.
  • 86. Snowflakes on your tongue.
  • 87. Nostalgic Disney movies.
  • 88. Flying a kite.
  • 89. Sleeping with your pets snuggled up close.
  • 90. Vacations to exotic places.
  • 91. You have to hang out with your online friends.
  • 92. Sadness doesn’t last forever.
  • 93. Someone is waiting for you.
  • 94. You have untapped strength and prowess.
  • 95. There is no such thing as a worthless human being.
  • 96. Swimming in the ocean heals.
  • 97. Wolf kisses are antibiotic.
  • 98. The road never ends; only new ways to travel the road appear.
  • 99. It’s more likely than you think that you’ll meet your favorite actor.
  • 100. I love you.

HEY! Darling

Thank you! this is soooooooo amazing !

You have a great day

Love always

Charlotte xxx

anonymous asked:

Hi! This might be a bit of a generic question, but could you give a quick crash-course in non-Marvel Loki? Personality, fun facts, etc.? I feel like every time I try to do any research on him, it's not entirely accurate because of confusion with pop culture and whatnot... Thanks in advance!

No, not at all: I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me about this before. I tend to wheedle on about Loki and go a little overboard, but I’ll try to cut myself short and stick to basics here. All of this will come from the Eddas, the two foremost books of Norse mythology, and any other sources will be mentioned as possibilities. Let’s start with genealogy, important actions, etc.

  • Loki is a Jotunn, or Giant. Giants are not necessarily big. Loki is whatever size the Æsir like to be, when we meet him (but the gods are anthropomorphic, so it’s all relative).
  • We don’t know that Loki is a Frost-Giant (Hrímþurs) as Marvel likes to call them. (And, the specificity of Jotnar, in terms of their race/species- fire, hill, sound, sea, ice, etc- is not always specific if looked at within the poetry, because eddic poetry requires alliteration, so if you need a ‘b’, you might call a Frost-Giant a Hill-Giant (bergrísi) because you need a b, see)
  • Loki’s mother is named Laufey, not his father. His father is Fárbauti. Loki’s mother is also called Nál, and Loki has two brothers, Helblindi and Byleist. Nothing much to be said about them, but maybe remember Byleist because a) Byleist’s name is used in kennings (poetic allusions to) for Loki, and b) his name probably means ‘bee-lightning’, which I think is funny as hell.
  • The moniker Loki Laufeyjarson is the real deal, though (I’m finishing up a translation of Loki and Svaðilfari, and it’s in that section of prose). Loki is part of a legacy of “fatherless children” with matronymics; this may have been done to signify his difference from the Æsir, who use patronymics, like everyone else.
  • Loki has six (known) children and has claimed a sixth by Tyr’s unknown wife (in Lokasenna). Loki’s famous “monstrous” children are by the giantess Angurboða; Fenrir or Fenris– the name being Fenrisulfr, which literally means “wolf of Fenrir” so just pick a name you like– a massive wolf; Jormungand, the Midgard Serpent, an equally massive snake that lives in the sea; and Hel– from whom Marvel gets their Hela– a goddess of the dead, who keeps the dead in Niflhel. She is supposed to be half black or blue, which most take to mean that she’s half person, half zombie. Some believe the black part is an allusion to blood coagulating when you lie dead, so that her back would be black, but I digress. Loki has two sons by his wife, Sigyn; Nari and Vali. Little is known about either son, though one becomes a wolf and the other dies really, really badly. As mentioned above, Loki claims to have sired a son with Tyr’s wife, and Odin says Loki was beneath the earth for many years “bearing babies” (both in Lokasenna). Whether this is an allusion to one or both of Loki’s sons by Sigyn, or whether it means there are other spawn-of-Loki out there, we can’t know. Aaand I forgot the horse; Sleipnir, the eight-legged stallion of Odin, is a son of Loki (as a mare) and the stallion Svaðilfari. I always talk about Sleipnir, but otherwise forget to mention him as one of Loki’s babies. Sorry, Sleipnir. My bad.
  • Loki is Odin’s blood brother, and of no relation to Thor. I still don’t know why Marvel went with the tormented brothers thing: they could’ve gone the gloomy Hamlet route instead! So Loki is direct kin of neither Odin nor Thor, but blood-brothership was supposed to be a very sacred bond, not to be fucked with (Loki whines about it in Lokasenna).
  • So Frigg didn’t raise Loki. We don’t even know if Loki had a childhood. According to Snorri (who wrote the Prose Edda) the first we see of Loki is when he appears to Odin and his companion Hœnir and is like “can I come with you guys”?
  • Loki is not the god of mischief, and may not even be a trickster. The Norse gods all have many attributes, it isn’t at all like the Greek pantheon where everyone has one specific thing. There are Goddesses described this way by Snorri, but it is only because he has no idea what else to say about them. Loki does utilize mischief and tricks, but: Loki is not a god. We have no written evidence that he was ever worshipped. And certain aspects of his actions do not fit the trickster, or folk hero, archetype at all. So he’s not the trickster god, or the god of mischief, or the god of evil– he isn’t a god at all (mean girls voice: he doesn’t even go here!) Of all the Marvel incarnations of Loki and their attributes, I think Loki as the Skald, the god of stories, was nearer to the mark, but still too pigeonholed to reflect the mythos at more than face-value.
  • Loki is a known shapeshifter and a likely user of strong magic. I don’t believe we ever see an instance of Loki changing into another person [edit: I LIED HE DOES APPEAR AS A WOMAN TO FRIGG in Gylfaginning, I’m sorry, I can’t believe I forgot; also he’s theorized to appear as a Jotun woman later on, but we don’t have proof of that] mostly he seems to enjoy animal shapes, though (fish, horse, falcon, fly, etc.). We assume that he uses seiðr, a magic loosely associated with shamanism; there are several moments (in Svipdagsmál, Fjölsvinnsmál) where seemingly seiðr-y practices are attributed to Loki (the carving of runes, the eating of a woman’s heart, and the bearing babies thing mentioned above). Seiðr was seen as a rather… I don’t know if emasculating is the right word, but… low-down, ill-reputed type of magic, practiced mainly by Freyja and Odin. So the Loki of myth doesn’t turn himself into multiple green copies, laughing at Thor, but he does appear to do some kind of rune magic and he is fond of changing his form.
  • Loki doesn’t spend much time being “hated” by the gods. Not only is Marvel!Loki, in most of his forms, a whiny little shit, he also spends a good amount of time being hated on by the Aguardians (I hate that word). In theory, mythological!Loki spends much less time as a hated enemy of the Æsir (better word) than he does as their friend. It’s kind of impossible to make a good, logical timeline of all the events of Norse mythology, but the killing of Baldr is the tipping stone for Ragnarök, which makes it late, and only after Lokasenna is Loki bound, so no stories featuring Loki can have occurred after that. Therefore, on this hodge-podge I-pasted-it-together basis, we can concur that the half-mad, enemy-of-the-gods Loki and his binding are, obviously, at the end of the timeline. Then Ragnarok happens, he breaks free, death, murder, burning, yadda yadda yadda. But the majority of the stories we see that feature Loki feature him as a cunning asshole or fun-fellow who is always around to help or hinder the gods. They do, at some point in the mythos, really seem to love the bastard, and leave a lot up to him (ie: the builder and his horse, and that one time Loki tied his balls to a goat to make Skaði laugh. That was a thing that happened. And it kept her from trying to kill them all too, so there you have it.)
  • Most importantly, Loki is neither evil or good. He is a mess. It is hard to know which version of Loki– because it’s pretty clear that there is some duality going on there when Loki is a fun pal one minute and leading a death army the next– is the real, original Loki. Some signs point to “that evil bound one there”, ie: Saxo Grammaticus, who wrote forty-some years before Snorri, illustrating bound giant Ugardilocus, chained up in a cave full of snakes (Ugardilocus being the latinized form of the name Útgarða-Loki, another version of Loki, seen in Snorri, in Gylfaginning) which mirrors the bound Loki at the end of Lokasenna, snake-and-all. But there is no one true Loki amongst all the eddic stories, he is always different. Sometimes we see a Loki who is keen on playing pranks, seemingly for the hell of it, and who gets punished for them (Skaldskarpamál, Loki cuts off Sif’s hair and makes bad bets with dwarves). Sometimes we see a Loki who accidentally gets into trouble and is forced under duress to act against the gods (Skaldskarpamál, Thjazi makes Loki steal Iðunn and her apples; and still in the same section, Loki is caught by Geirrod while in the form of a bird and forced to lure Thor to Geirrod’s courts.) Sometimes we see a Loki who is duly helpful, (Þrymskviða, where Loki helps in the retrieval of Thor’s hammer, and even in Gylfaginning with Útgarða-Loki’s contests), and sometimes we see a Loki who is just shit out of luck and really got a raw deal (in Gylfaginning, the tale of Loki and Svaðilfari, ie: Loki famously seduces a horse. But it is not as black-and-white as some translations would tell you: in the Old Norse the gods simply ask Loki among them if he thinks it’s a good plan to get the wall built, and Loki says “yeah sure”, and then they threaten to beat him to death when things go south, like it’s somehow his fault). Then finally we have tales of an evil Loki (Ragnarok, in Gylfaginning and Völuspá) and of course, the bizarrity of Baldr’s death (in Gylfaginning (and boasted of in Lokasenna) where Loki is apparently so jealous of Baldr being popular that he… uses Baldr’s brother Hoðr to kill him? It’s a mess. We go from accident-prone sassy Jotun brat who gets into sticky situations, to maniacal, wicked enemy who leads an army against the gods and helps bring about the end of all things. What?? One of my favorite theories on why Loki is such a seemingly accidentally duplicitous figure is that he makes the best impetus for stories. Here is the one character who pals around with the gods, but isn’t one of them. Who better to cause trouble! Something needs to be fixed in a myth, there has to be a charter: Sif has hair of gold, why is that? Must be because Loki chopped it off one time. The gods would grow old for a time without their apples. But who would ever take Iðunn away? Loki would! Hoðr killed his beloved brother Baldr, why is that? Hmm. Must be because Loki made him! Loki is the best way to cause problems, but that’s just one theory.

So those are your main differences between the Loki of Norse myth and the Loki of Marvel comics. If I can think of other things later, I’ll add them, but I suppose the main thing to know is that the Loki of Norse mythology is a very crafty, wily, confusing individual, who even at his worst does not reflect the whiny, blathering actions and ill-conceived notions of Marvel!Loki.


This will be updated quite frequently here (text post) and here (page on my blog).




  1. Summer Magic 
  2. I’ll Take It Shaken, Not Stirred 
  3. Love and Other Tragedies
  4. Crossroads
  5. Kiss And Tell
  6. Penmanship Smitten
  7. You Want To Make A Memory?
  8. Priori Incantatem
  9. Resolution
  10. Prelude to Destiny (x)
  11. The Story Of Four Friends (MWPP)
  12. Runaway Love (AU)
  13. The Marauders: A Harry Potter Prequel
  14. The Devils Wears Quidditch Gear
  15. Auburn Pride and a Chaser’s Persuasion
  16. Bragging Rights
  17. Turning Tables
  18. A Different View On Love (AU)
  19. An Unhealthy Fixation With Aurors
  20. Scribblings Of A Red Head And A Quidditch Captain
  21. The Beautiful Game
  22. Lead On To Fortune (Royal AU)
  23. If Wishes Were Fishes
  24. Death to James Potter
  25. My Notebook Will Explain
  26. I’ll Fight For You
  27. Once Again
  28. My Reflection (AU)
  29. Waste My Time
  30. A Month Of Sundays
  31. White Flags
  32. Lust…or love?
  33. Never Going Back Again (Post-Hogwarts AU)
  34. Goodnight Stars
  35. The Boys You Grow Into, & The Boys You Grow Out Of
  36. If I Fell
  37. Hot For Teacher (Professor!Potter AU)
  38. The White Album
  39. 10 Things I Wanna Do in Life
  40. Living Life
  41. Boyfriend / Fiancée / Pregnant
  42. Kissing The Enemy
  43. Letters
  44. It’s My Party
  45. Light
  46. The Curtain Call (AU)
  47. Like Sunny Days
  48. One Of Them
  49. She Said What?
  50. Philologus
  51. Eyes As Green As A Fresh Pickle Toad
  52. Fairytale Gone Wrong
  53. A Marauder’s Girl
  54. Light
  55. Defiance
  56. Raindrops
  57. While You Tell Me Stories
  58. Lily’s List
  59. Seven Valentines
  60. Honestly
  61. Stars Apart
  62. Mazes
  63. Stay
  64. For Him
  65. Until The Very End
  66. Not A Date
  67. The Marauders’ Companion
  68. The One That Got Away (Modern era AU)
  69. Loving You
  70. Don’t Let Your Guard Down
  71. Written In The Stars
  72. Fighting Fate
  73. Little Moments
  74. Hogwarts Confessional
  75. Haggis from Algernon
  76. Good Tidings
  77. Rumor Has It
  78. Hogwarts Next Top Model
  79. Raindrops
  80. Broom Cupboard
  81. Stray (Sirius/OC)
  82. Pretty Girl (Sirus/OC)
  83. Sweet
  84. Revenge
  85. Amortentia
  86. Hostage
  87. Unforgettable
  88. It All Starts In Cokeworth (Post-Hogwarts AU)

In progress

  1. The life and times* (Deleted scenes, Snaps) 
  2. Every other midnight(Professor!Potter AU)
  3. Fighting Fate* (Pirate AU)
  4. Before The Fawn 
  5. Wind And Waves* / As The Wind Blows (Pirate AU)
  6. Petal in the Rain (Aristocratic/WW AU)
  7. Fly Me To The Moon
  8. Through A Glass Darkly
  9. The Girl in the Looking Glass (Aristocratic AU)
  10. A Walk In Your Shoes 
  11. Starstruck (Modern era AU)
  12. All Right, Evans? / Dangerous Crouds
  13. Red Amongst The Blue (Pirate AU)
  14. Tyranny’s Disease (Pirate AU)
  15. Tears on the balcony / Kisses on the balcony / Goodbyes on the balcony
  16. Quiet Summer
  17. A Ray Of Light (Aristocratic AU)
  18. What Could Have Been
  19. A Lady’s Imagination
  20. Commentarius (x) 
  21. The Menial Games (THG AU)
  22. All Over Again (First Steps, That Night, The End)
  23. Buried Treasure And Transmogrify
  24. Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally a Love Story
  25. In Fields of Poppies
  26. A Different Kind of Magic
  27. Snowflakes
  28. My Constant
  29. The Lions of Gryffindor
  30. Say When (Modern Era AU)
  31. Bloody ShangriLa (AU)
  32. Tell Her She’ll Go to Sea and Fight Pirates (Pirate AU)
  33. The Age of Inertia
  34. My Deliverance
  35. Glass Of Water
  36. Perfume
  37. The Marauders And The Rogues
  38. The Fourth Crimson Sky
  39. The Chronicles Of Captain Craptastic (Superhero AU)
  40. Serendipity
  41. The Marauders’ Papers
  42. Of Raindrops, Flowers And Wishing Wells
  43. Stolen Promises
  44. Love Is Lily
  45. Give Me A Purpose
  46. Tempting Fate
  47. The World, Biscuits And Sirius Black According To Nellie O'Neil (Sirius/OC)
  48. Once Defied / Twice Defied
  49. Canis Major (Sirius/OC)
  50. Wicked (Sirius/OC)


  1. Nothing On Earth (AU)
  2. Charcoal and Paint
  3. Absolute Shocker!
  4. Silly Love Songs
  5. Deconstruct
  6. The Trut Of The Heart
  7. A Stag in the Headlights
  8. Not So Proper (Pirate AU)
  9. Deep Breath (Pirate AU)
  10. Swept Away: The Life and Times of Girl Pirate (Pirate AU)
  11. Diametrically Opposed
  12. Full House
  13. Love of Two Generations: First Love
  14. Lost at Sea (Pirate AU)
  15. Princess Lily (Medieval AU)
  16. A Right Royal Mixup / A Right Royal Mixup - Uncut (Royal AU)
  17. Lady Lily (AU)
  18. The Prince’s Marriage (Royal AU)
  19. Obsessive Lily Disorder / You Give Me Heart Palpitations


  1. Snaps* (The life and times)
  2. The Anatomy of a Bromance* (J/S)
  3. And The Wolves All Cry (AU)
  4. Just Stay Here Tonight (AU)
  5. 41 Random Facts About James Potter (J)
  6. October Thirty-First
  7. For the First Time
  8. That Elusive Aha Moment
  9. Always
  10. Halloween 1976
  11. Two July’s and One October
  12. 19½ First Dates
  13. The Right Number (AU)
  14. The Juggernaut Factor
  15. The Twelve Hours James Did Not Ask Out Lily
  16. Slip Of The Tongue
  17. Head Boy (MWPP)
  18. Textbooks, Time Scarves and Tea (AU)
  19. Question Time (AU)
  20. Sheep Riding And Freefalling (AU)
  21. James’ Death
  22. The Way I Loved You
  23. All Those Things
  24. This Is The Last Song
  25. 101 Pick Up Lines
  26. Here By Me
  27. Rodger
  28. Lily’s Falling
  29. Radioactive
  30. Intricacies
  31. A Wizard Walks Into A Bar
  32. Perilune (Remus)
  33. Progression (S/L)
  34. Jealousy (S/L)
  35. The Tales of a Best Man (S)
  36. The Best Man’s Speech (S)
  37. The Scarring of Sirius Black (S)
  38. Beyond the Veil (S)
  39. A Midnight Chat (S/L)
  40. Something to Share (S/L)
  41. Need a hug? (S/L)
  42. Five Times Lily Doesn’t Kiss Sirius (S/L)
  43. Recognition (S/L)
  44. A piece of sun (S/L)
  45. Family (S/L)
  46. Walk Away (S/L)
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  48. Learned Lessons at Hogwarts by the Marauders (MWPP)
  49. Ten Secrets You Didn’t Know About the Marauders (MWPP)
  50. Of sadness, rage and wistfulness (MWPP)
  51. Strings (R)
  52. It Happened in a Broom Cupboard
  53. Guilty Pleasure
  54. It Happened in a Broom Cupboard
  55. Tiny
  56. A Hundred Million Freckles
  57. Neverland (Petar Pan AU)
  58. The Hallway with Large Windows
  59. A Nocturne Blue
  60. The Mornings After
  61. Alarming and Beautiful
  62. Him
  63. Half In Love
  64. Only
  65. Heartbeat
  66. After Hours
  67. Wrong place Wrong time
  68. Cigar
  69. Sunshowers
  70. A Moment
  71. Coercion and Competition
  72. Beautiful
  73. Ravishment
  74. Heroin
  75. A Collection of Lily and James
  76. The Fragility of Tears
  77. The Boy Who Cried Wolf
  78. Wild Eyes
  79. Hatred: A Prelude of Lust
  80. Positively Criminal 
  81. Reunion
  82. Changing Times (30+ drabbles)

Masterposts/Recommendations/Fics blogs

  1. Fightingsomany (mine)
  2. Fuckyeahjily
  3. Sybilltrelawneys
  4. Potterishotter
  5. Thearcherballet (+)
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  7. Jamespotterz
  8. Handlessreadingcorner
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  10. Suzies-q
  11. Bigquidditchhero
  12. Snapslikethis
  13. Jamespottersd
  14. October31st1981
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  20. Jamesandlillies
  1. Jily One-Shot Alphabet
  2. Jily Pirate Fest masterlist
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  1. Author’s masterpost
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  3. Lilyevansjamespotter / Storyweaver24 (
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I’ll Protect You

A Nessian fic going through different stages of their life (but it’s really just three) where they say “I’ll protect you” a lot. Mildly happy. 

Sometimes she wakes up and she doesn’t remember the room she’s in or the body she inhabits. She can barely remember the sound of her voice, only the hoarse screaming as she watches her sister succumb to the darkness. Even as Nesta tries to even her breathing, her heart races on, refusing to calm until she’s feels every worry that’s buried beneath her consciousness.

Sometimes even if she can hear the yells in the distance, she’s the one who’s screaming. She catches herself, holds her breath, and wills the universe to turn a blind eye on her momentary weakness. But even the shadows scare her, promising to always watch even in the dead of night. Little warriors made to torment her every sleep.

But tonight, is different. Despite the renewed strength of her body, despite the power she possesses, Nesta still feels like a little girl hiding beneath covers. She doesn’t hear herself cry, doesn’t feel the tremors that rock her unsteady body. All she hears is the echoing wail of her sisters, of her friends, of her family.  It reminds her that even if she’s lost her freedom, they can still take her heart.

Keep reading


Happy birthday to harmonious-relations!

n g r b o d a   &   i g y n

The stories tell it like this: Angrboda was the second love of Loki, mother of the terrible children Jormundandr, Fenrir and Hel. What they sometimes failed to elaborate upon was that she was the chieftess of a band of Jotnar and of the Iron Wood. Sigyn was the daughter of Iwaldi and Freya, daughter of Asgard and Vanaheim, third love of Loki and mother of Narvi and Vali.

Another thing they failed to mention was their friendship.

When Sigyn crossed between the nine realms to journey to Jotunheim, she was met with frost and steel. Their leader was a tall, fierce and beautiful giantess, with eyes like winter and hair dark as night that could burn like fire when she revealed her true form of blue skin and crimson eyes.

They did not immediately talk over the one thing they held most in common: Loki. Instead they talked of their homes, their childhoods, the way they were both trained in combat and eventually, how they came to know of the Jotun prince. Angrboda had been raised in sorcery and flesh and blood and ice. Sigyn had been raised in sorcery and steel and the power of words.

One cold night, Angrboda challenged Sigyn to a duel. They circled and danced in the desolate bleak cold, where Sigyn quickly learned to avoid the chieftess’ hard swings by feinting and throwing out illusions to deceive her whenever she could. But the wolf-mother knew her tricks well, and soon it became a game of steel on ice that eventually culminated in a draw. Sigyn offered to teach Angrboda more about the magic of the Aesir, and in exchange, Angrboda gave the Victory Bringer a spear of ice that could perform dangerous enchantments in combat. Both also granted one another safe passage and hospitality if they wished to visit the other’s realms.

As the years passed, Asgard grew used to the visiting of a Jotun chieftess. Although there were countless occasions where soldiers had been secretly ordered to draw their blades against the frost woman, Sigyn retaliated with her own fierce means. If the Aesir were to kill the woman warrior, this would ignite the sparks to a terrible war between the Jotuns and the Asgardians once again, and it would only end in bloodshed and terror. With some hardship, Odin gave the command that the chieftess was not to be harmed, and so she was allowed to wander the forests, spar with those willing on the training grounds and wander the libraries with Sigyn and Loki and share in the secrets of sorcery.

In turn, Sigyn journeyed to the cold ream, where she was met with vicious words and icy threats that were all stayed by Angrboda’s authority. There, Sigyn befriended the great wolf Fenrir, who soon took to walking by her side as a silent guardian, and eventually Hel upon one journey to Niflheim. They took up forms of disguise when they used one of Loki’s secret pathways between the realms to visit Midgard, and there Angrboda reunited with Jormundgandr, who that day let the seas roll calm and granted the mortals blessed voyages.

But then came the day when Odin broke his promise, and with it came the breaking of a trust that had gradually been forged between two races. He bound Fenrir in great chains and enslaved the world serpent to the seas of earth, forever to encompass the seas and never to see his blood again. Hel was banished to stay in the realm of the dead to ferry the souls, never to leave again, while Loki was tied beneath a serpent that dripped poison that burned like fire. Vali was changed into a wolf, and under the torment of such a terrible transformation without the proper practise of magic, was set upon his brother Narvi.

Sigyn’s anguish soon bled into fury, and Angrboda’s icy wrath joined with hers to create two warriors filled with vengeance, and mothers of mourning turned to hatred. On one howling night, Sigyn took up her spear of ice, and met with Angrboda in the eye of a snowstorm in order to utter the words that would cloaked her fellow Jotun warriors in an impenetrable glamour. Then together, they crossed the realms to bring about the dawn of a terrible war that would not cease until the worlds tore apart and every last Aesir felt the fire of their grief.

Disclaimer: Gifs are not mine.

One Thousand Years

Table of Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Chapter 15. Epilogue

Dal-nim-ah…Chanyeol promises you that he will forever smile his captivating wide smile that you love.  To forever love those pointy ears.  And to forever laugh that laugh of his that sounds like music to your ears.  For as long as Dal-nim is in Chanyeol’s heart, he will never forget the beautiful love you two shared.

With his bare hands, Chanyeol dug out a small hole beside the grave that once encased his past form, to bury the motionless corpse of the rabbit, eternally asleep in the center of his lap.  For finally…the bunny can be with the wolf again.  A vine of ivy sprouted out from both tombs, encircling in a dance-like enchantment, until finally intertwining into one at the center heart.

~Three years later~

It was a warm sunny day as you opened your eyes and pulled the curtains apart to reveal the God ray that shot into your dainty room.  Sticking your head out into the garden, you greedily sniffed in the sweet fragrance of the daffodils, tulips, and the roses.  A dewdrop spilled from the center of a wet leaf onto your fingertips before reuniting with Mother Earth as its shapeless form.  Days like these, you wanted to just roll around in bed and enjoy the sun hot against your milky white skin.  Tan was the new healthy glow nowadays anyways.    

But as soon as your alarm rang again, you waved an innocent goodbye to the fully bloom flowers and twirled around like a ballerina into the bathroom to get ready for your summer class.  Smiling into the mirror, you painted your cheeks a coral pink.  A white maxi dress clung along your body expertly as if it were tailor made for you.  Throwing on a thin cardigan, you grabbed your backpack and skipped down the streets.

Soft breeze blew your silky long tresses high into the air.  Sweetly smiling, you ran your fingers through your hair and locked them behind your ear.  Busy businessmen and students haggled and pushed their way into buses and taxis to avoid the summer heat.  But you…you liked the warm feeling, it felt so pure and safe as if someone had draped his arms around your body.  So you opted to walk toward the campus while admiring the sea blue sky and occasionally hide under trees for shade.  Shadows always intrigued you.  They were reflections of the living; only not complete ones for the details could only be seen with eyes and touched with fingertips.

You observed as your silhouette curved and meshed with a cardboard standee that a lady just placed outside her store.  Curious, you spun around.  The ends of your dress puffed up and swayed from side to side, tickling your thighs.  It was a standee of a tall young male celebrity with gorgeous eyes and a smile wider than the length of your palms.  Unknowingly, you stepped forward to admire his features.  Park Chanyeol.  You knew his name for all your female classmates raved about him and his talents.  During the last study session, they had forced you to watch a few YouTube videos of Chanyeol playing guitar and singing.  But it was his endless jokes, toothy smile, and those fairy-like ears that captivated your attention.  He was definitely cute…

“Hello, Agasshi, would you like to see some of the EXO merchandise we just got?  I believe this boy just came out with his own self-composed CD,” the store clerk spoke, ushering you in.

But you shook your head, bowed, and explained, “Sorry, I’m going to be late for class”.

“Oh, is that so?  Remember to come back afterschool.  I’ll give you a discount!” she offered so you smiled and nodded.

Park Chanyeol…

Baby swallows fluttered their wings, tweeting little melodies to you as you hopped along.  Subconsciously, you began to hum a soft tune as well.  Each beat and each note resonated through your vocal chords as if you had heard it somewhere before, only it was your first time composing it.

When you passed a tiny garden outside the university campus, you knelt down and held out a few carrot sticks into the palms of your hands.  Flicking your tongue onto the roof of your mouth, you called for the fluffy creatures to emerge from their secret home to snack on some sugary treats.  Twin ears popped out from the bush until the white fuzzball hopped out and jumped onto your lap with the bright orange vegetable in its hands.  Giggling, you stroked its back and called for the other ones to join.  Soon, you were surrounded by a fluffle of baby bunnies.

“One, two, three, four, five…hmm?” you tilted your head to peer into the tree hole in search for the missing one.  Your hair fell against your face like a waterfall.

Two honey colored globes, like shiny marbles, glowed from within the hole.  Turning your frown into a sweet smile, you took a baby carrot and held it at the entrance for the shy maknae of the group.  Even then, he shook in fear.

“I won’t hurt you,” you assured, cautiously sticking your finger in to stroke his tiny feet.  Still, he hid further in so you ended up pushing the carrot forward and then retreating to give the frightened baby some space.  Within seconds, he pounced onto the carrot.  His cheeks popped up and down like a jigsaw.  Melting into a puddle, you took out a bowl and poured a bit of milk for the babies as well.

“Unnie has to go to class now,” you whispered, petting each one of them on the head – well and the mini one on the toe, “I will come back again tomorrow, as always”.

As if understanding you, the biggest bunny bowed and ushered her siblings back into their shelter.  Sighing sweetly, you plopped up and headed for class.  You didn’t know when the group of babies began to live at the school campus or why they didn’t have an Omma but you’ve been feeding them for almost two weeks.  The youngest one was pale, hairless, and motionless the first few days so you would rock him back and forth in your shirt.  It wasn’t until three days ago did he finally open his eyes, those orbs that reminded you of Jupiter shining in conjunction to the full moon on a February night.  They were absolutely beautiful…so beautiful that your heart clenched together and a single tear streamed down your coral cheeks.

But as soon as the baby’s eyes met yours, he scurried away, sobbing to himself.

It must not feel good to have been abandoned…

“Park Dal-nim!” your instructor called attendance.

“Here!” you responded.

Beside you, a female classmate was busy poking at her phone while another squealed at the deep voice of the singer on her screen.  Flashes of pinks and purples glowed from her screen.

“I’m actually dyinggggg,” another shrieked, “Chanyeol is sooo sexay!”

Catching you gazing at her phone from a distance, the girl scooted the chair closer to you.  The metal legs screeched against the tiled floor.

“Dal-nim-ah, you like Chanyeol too, right?” she questioned.

“Hmm…I don’t know him that well…” you laughed.

“What do you mean?!  I showed you all those YouTube clips of him the other day,” another spoke as she kicked her foot against the wall to accelerate himself toward you.

Outside, a loud drilling noise covered the soft volume of the headphones that your friend plugged into your ears so you could barely hear.  Still, as to not disappoint her, you smiled and nodded.  Her eyes twinkled, having discovered another Chanyeol bias to fangirl with her.  He was…super attractive…

But men, like him, are out of your league and off radar for he was one and you were one in a million.

So you refocused your attention on the assignment before you until dismissal.  Politely, you bowed to your professor and waved to your friends.  The heat of the August afternoon was a force to be reckoned with for it literally sent you staggering back.  Frowning, you wiped the sweat from your forehead and decided to check on the bunnies one last time to make sure they weren’t over-heating from the hundred-degree weather.

You gasped when you were ten feet from the tree.  A construction worker held a large chainsaw as he used his brute strength to chop down the trunk.

Rushing forward, you shouted, “Ajusshi!  Ajusshi!!  There are bunnies in there!”

Panicking, you disregarded the yellow and black caution tape and limboed over to the front to pop your head into the hole.  It was empty.

“Hey!  Be careful Agasshi!  I almost decapitated your head off!” the worker scolded.

“Sor-sorry!” you bowed and then timidly questioned, “D-did you…by any chance…see the bunnies that were hiding in there?  There were six of them!”

“No!  No bunnies!  Now go so I can finish my job!  It’s so hot today!” he complained and shooed you away.

Biting you lip, you hesitantly bowed again and exited the secluded area.  Stubborn and super worried, you walked around the large garden, with your back bent, in search of your furry friends but they were no where to be seen.  Even when you shook the jar of carrot sticks, not a single fly appeared.  So with a dejected slump of the shoulders, you began to walk home.

It wasn’t an aimless walk but the whole time your mind was elsewhere.  You feared for the safety of the six tiny, harmless, innocent babies.  It was already unfortunate that their mother had left them but now they were probably scattered somewhere.  You imagined the tiniest one trembling with fear.

“Agasshi!” a sweet female voice called.

You turned around to see Park Chanyeol…well his standee.  The lady popped her head from behind the cardboard.

You bowed.

“How was class?” she asked.

“Good,” you answered, stepping into the store as promised.

The air conditioning instantly woke you up from your daze.

“Go ahead.  Look around.  Ajumma will give you a discount if you find anything you like,” she chirped while mopping the floor.

Your white flats tapped along the wooden planks as you browsed around the KPOP store.  Female idols pursed their lips together and held up bunny ears in pictures.  A few had faux gemstones on the corners of their eyes.  On the other hand, the boys wore leather jackets and studs.  Some even had eyeliner on.

Byun Baekhyun…you recalled his name because your friend, Stella, dished about him everyday in class. ૮( ᵒ̌ૢ௰ᵒ̌ૢ )ა

Momentarily, you paused in front of an empty CD rack with Chanyeol’s poster decorating the shelf.

“Oh, so sorry!  We actually sold out of Park Chanyeol’s solo CD: One Thousand Years,” she informed, “I can order some for you and you can pick it up in a week or so…”

“No…that’s okay…” you shook your head.  But you felt bad for leaving without purchasing anything, so you took a necklace with a wooden pendant on it and walked over to the cash register.

The lady raised her brow and flipped the necklace over a few times.  It so happened to have Park Chanyeol’s name etched into it, along with his infamous firebird symbol.

“That’s funny…I’ve never seen this before.  I don’t think this…is our store’s…” she mumbled but then smiled, “It’s okay though.  You can take it for free.  On Ajumma,” she patted her chest, “Just remember to return for Park Chanyeol’s CD!”

She winked and you giggled.

“I can’t take this for free though,” you pushed it back to her.

“Nah.  Take it.  I can’t ring it up anyway since it doesn’t have a tag,” she reasoned, “Just treat it as fate.  If you win the lottery today, just remember Ajumma”.  She chuckled at her own joke.

Bringing the talisman up to your eyes, you admired the intricate designs.  A flash of orange flickered and you blinked a few times, thinking you were going insane.  With a nod, you slipped it into your backpack and offered her some of the rice cakes you made this morning.  As you stepped out of the store, your arm brushed across a tall male’s, almost knocking his drink out of his hand.  Gasping, you immediately bowed 90 degrees.  As if in a panic, the man dashed ahead without acknowledging you.  Lowering your head in guilt, you straightened up, only catching a short glimpse of his sunglasses, facemask, and thick hoodie that covered him from his head to down to his knee.

Odd…everyone’s sweating like a pig and here he is dressed like it’s the middle of January…

Shaking your head amusingly, you pulled your bookbag straps taunt and skipped your way back home.  It wasn’t until two blocks away, did you get this uncomfortable unwellness that lingered in your heart.

“Hmm…Shades…mask…and hoodie…” you murmured as you squinted your eyes.  You froze.  On the news the other day, you saw the listed qualities as ones of a wanted murderer and thief.

Freaking out, you nibbled at your nails and sprinted back to check on the Ajumma that you had just met today.  Instead of broken glass and knocked down shelves, you met with the sweet smile of the lady.

“Oh, hey!” she greeted.

“Ajumma, you’re safe,” you observed, panting from the brisk walk.

“Hahaha, of course, I am child,” she chuckled but then remembered, “Oh yeah!  There was a man earlier who came and said that the necklace I gave to you actually belonged to him and he left it this morning while browsing around”.

“Oh!  Here,” you reached into your bag but she shook her head.

“I told him to come back in a week,” she winked, “He was pretty handsome…even though I couldn’t see most of his face from the disguise but tall, dark, handsome…perfect for you…”

“Ajumma!” you shyly complained.

“If you two get together in the future, don’t forget me,” she teased then added, “Oh.  I ordered the CD for you online, by the way”.

Giggling, you bowed and left the store again.  In your palms, the talisman began to glow.

“Wow,” you mouthed, bringing it to your face to get a better look.  It was as if someone poured neon ink over the symbol.

As you walked down the street, it continued to glow brighter and brighter until you had to squint and hold it at an arm’s length away from you so that it didn’t feel as if you were staring into the sun.  You were so focused on the wooden pendant, in your hands, you had long stopped looking at where you were going.

“Hey, be careful!” a deep voice hollered as the owner’s arm slid around your waist to pull you back into the sidewalk.

A driver rolled down his windows and began to shout out profanities at you for your foolishness in crossing the busy intersection when the light was red.

“Are you okay?” your savior questioned.

With your hand against your pacing heart, you slowly turned around with your large round eyes.  He was the same tall male who you accidentally bumped into earlier at the KPOP store.  You tried to straighten yourself from his grasp but he held you securely as if you were some lost bunny.

“Um…thank you…Sir…” you shyly mumbled.

“Y-you…” he began.

“Thank goodness this isn’t broken…” you sighed in relief while holding up the talisman.

“You…” he repeated.  His voice was deep and trembling.  A stream of liquid ran down his shaded eyes.

“Oh…this is yours, isn’t it?” you concluded, holding the necklace up to him, “Sorry.  I saw it on the shelf and the Ajumma gave it to me for free because I’m a Park Chanyeol fan…”

You ran your fingers through your hair and laughed nervously.  The man held his shaking hand out to take the necklace, but instead he grabbed your hand as well.

“Hmm?” you asked.

Abruptly, he took off his sunglasses.  He was crying, those golden sparkling orbs watered like glass globes.  You’ve seen those eyes before…A shiver ran through your spine.  Déjà vuYour brows automatically caved in.  Slowly, he took off his facemask as well.

Your lips parted and you gasped.

“Chanyeol-ssi,” you bowed, “I’m so sorry…I didn’t know this was yours…”

You bowed again a few more times.  The coral pink of your cheeks were now as red as rouge.  His hand squeezed yours.

“Dal-nim-ah…” he called.  His voice cracked.  You blinked, surprised at how a multi-talented artist knew your birth name.

“H-how…do you know my name?” you questioned.  Without answering you, the tall male threw his arms around your petite body, brought you into his chest, and burst into tears.

“One thousand days…I waited one thousand days…” he sobbed.

You weren’t sure why you were uncontrollably crying as well.  Confused, your pupils darted from left to right.  How absurd was this?  Park Chanyeol, everyone’s prince charming, was hugging you in the middle of the streets.  A flash alerted your attention.  Immediately, you held your hand up to cover Chanyeol’s face.

“Chanyeol-ssi…reporters…” you whispered.

Nodding, he wiped his tears and asked with a soft smile, “Do you want to go somewhere with me?”

Normally, you would reject the offer because he was a stranger after all…but for some reason, you nodding and mouthed an untraditional, “Okay”.

Taking your hand, he tugged you down the sidewalk.  His skin was so warm and soft, you shyly stole a peep at your intertwined hands.

“Oh…Chanyeol-ssi, here’s your necklace,” you spoke, midway to your destination.  But the music genius shook his head.

“It’s yours.  I gave it to you,” he explained.

“Hmm?” you tilted your head innocently and questioned.

The road diverged into two.  One that departed into a more rural area and one toward an alley gate.  Chanyeol chose the former.  Smiling, you obediently followed along.  You didn’t know how but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you.  Beside you, the young man began sniffling back his tears.  Though you wanted to ask what was wrong, you didn’t want to force him to talk if he didn’t want to.

“Dal-nim-ah…my Dal-nim…”

“From now on, your name is Dal-nim…”

“Like the moon goddess…”

You sucked in your breath as your head began to throb.  Sensing your unwellness, Chanyeol stopped in his tracks.

“A-are you not feeling well?” he questioned with glossy eyes piercing through yours.

“Savior…” you heard your own voice in your mind.

Chanyeol cupped your cheeks as you leaned against a tree to take a breath to regain composure.  Your body began to shiver.  You clamped your hands over your mouth.  Your lover pulled you into his chest and placed his chin against the top of your head.

“I will protect you,” Chanyeol firmly promised.

You looked up to feel a droplet fall down onto your eyes.

“Let’s go home…” he whispered.  Your stomach flipped a few times.


This is our home now…

“Home?” you whispered, crystals welling in your eyes.

Taking your hands into his again, he walked down the pathway.  The talisman glowed so brightly in your hands at the reunion of its owners.

“Chanyeol-ah…” you tearfully called.

“This…” he spoke, “…this is our home…”

Everything.  Everything.  It chilled you to the bone but you felt so warm.

Spinning at a pivot, you saw the meadow of flowers that embodied the forest.  A hay bed lay at the center of it all and beside it was a large rock with an etched image of a bunny and a wolf.  Kneeling down, you touched the carving.  Six little bunnies hopped over at the familiarity of your scent.  Even the smallest one snuggled against your arm.  You cradled it like your own.

Behind you, Chanyeol silently cried.

“Seobangnim…” you whispered, stoking his tear-stained cheeks.

The memories from your past life returned to you one at a time.

“Dal-nim-ah…” you lover sobbed, enveloping you into a secure hug.

“We can finally be together…” you wept in his chest.

Nodding, he spoke in one breath, “I guarded your grave for a thousand days, just as the manual instructed.  When your body turned back into a bunny, instead of a black glow, it was a green glow – just like the one from the mystical pill.  So I thought, why not try.  At least that gave me hope to continue living without you”.

“Chanyeol-ah…” you called, tightening your hug.

You finally understood.  The poison pill was the remaining magic pill dipped with a layer of toxin.  It was the elder’s way of testing you but also giving you your freedom after keeping you behind bars for a thousand years.

“H-how…how did you ever live through a thousand years waiting for me?” Chanyeol naively questioned, bringing your face out of his chest so that he could peer into your eyes, “I almost died these past one thousand days”.

Giggling through your tears, you spoke, “Because Dal-nim loves Park Chanyeol”.

With his signature wide smile, Chanyeol responded, “And Chanyeol loves Park Dal-nim too”.

A light in his pocket glowed.  Along with a buzz was the tune of Chanyeol’s new discography.

Our love song…

Bending over, he pressed his lips onto yours.  With your hand around the nape of his neck, you pulled him closer to deepen the kiss.

We can finally be together.  Even if we cannot live for another thousand years…one lifetime is all we need.

Gently, Chanyeol lifted you off your feet toward the hay bed.  Your back met the cool sensation of the natural ice rock.  In one swift move, your lover placed the necklace back around your neck.

His lips nibbled yours as he began to unbutton your cardigan.  But then he abruptly stopped.

“Wait,” he snapped.

“Hmm?” you hummed.

“One last test to check that you are my Dal-nim…” he smirked.

“Hmm?” you stared at him innocently.  Your cardigan bared your shoulders.

“Where is my birthmark?” he naughtily whispered into your ear as he tossed his hoodie aside.  His sweat dripped onto your naked collarbone.

Blushing, you covered your mouth and whispered back, “On your left butt cheek”.

Chuckling, he cheekily grinned in approval.  His hands moved at a fast pace, tickling the area right under your belly button, which he knew was your funny bone.  Screaming and laughing in delight, you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him into a passionate kiss.

“Is this the happy ending you wanted?” the bunny asked the wolf.

“It’s more than what I ever wanted,” he replied as ice melted under fire.

“Things that we were unable to achieve in our past lives…let’s complete them now,” your lover panted as your skin stick against his.

“Okay, like what?” you innocently replied.

“Well…let’s begin with…a baby!”

“A baby?!”  

Chanyeol smirked.  

a/n: YAY.  Happy ending :D Now they can finally be together.  Omg, Idk why that second paragraph made me burst into tears.  Tell me if you cried as well at that part.  It was just three sentences but the poignancy was so high.  Idk, just envisioning the scene made me feel so empty and full at the same time…how the bunny and wolf can finally be together…even if it’s in death…and then the vine curling together as one.  

Thank you so much everyone for following this story!  It was definitely different from what I have ever written before.  Do you guys need a comedy break or should we step right into Glass Flower and/or some oneshots tomorrow?  


Klaus is a myth, the bogieman of the supernatural world, and he is unfathomable… until one day he is sitting in Caroline’s bed promising her an eternity of birthday’s, saving her life, wishing that the anniversary of her birth- when her death has been everything she is for quite some time now- is happy. What kind of devil does that? What kind of devil runs his fingers through her hair as he offers her a vein.

Looking at her like an artist only can, Klaus doesn’t know what hit him, because like the atmosphere weighing us down, or the electricity sizzling all around us, Caroline is an experience, not an entity. Her flesh, though stunning and absolute, is not a cage. She is boundless and how could he not pause and take her in? His is the kind of gaze that makes the sun shiver, and what is Caroline, but his light? Darkness is theirs, and so is that heat.

After years of distraction and war and the entire world demanding that they stay apart and remain steadfast enemies, nothing kept them from friends, then? Or a confession in the woods that only the leaves heard and whispered about. She could only allude to what she wanted, but make no mistake that every sigh she breathed into him was another admission, letting him know that now may only be temporarily theirs, but forever knows the way she clung to him when the sun was gone and it was time for him to go and keep his promise to her. Walking away, he felt her eyes on him, and that made each footstep bearable.

Reason? Ha! That notion has no place here, where Klaus should be a thousand years dead and nothing but the pine or oak tree by the Falls. Ever trying Caroline, would spend time there falling for and under the wrong boys, and second guessing herself in the reflection of the roaring waters- and maybe she would get it right. Yet, there is nothing reasonable about a still heart that can feel such emotion for someone centuries apart, but so bloody touchable. You can see it in his eyes, that he knows what a gift it is to have survived nature, because Caroline is cosmic, she is the sun. It will always be his, even when every soul alive on the earth is replaced with a new generation of dying humans.

One day Caroline will wake up in a city that chafes at her skin and in a bed that smells like the feeling in her gut that she can only call dissatisfaction, and she will gather her things, pausing only at the door to her hotel, wondering how she ever thought it could provide what she was looking for when all it contained inside was overpriced booze and a safe emptier than she. And she will know exactly where to go- because two can play the game of keeping tabs- and when her knuckles meet finely polished wood, the responding echo won’t sound so hollow.

Love is not inherently good, nor is it innocent. It is chemical, yet so above humanity’s ability to grasp it. Yes, it hurts and it can be a battle and make you want to kill the object of your desires- a softly whispered, “Caroline?” to make sure she’s still there, because god forbid Klaus gets in his own way again. Not when it comes to her- but that’s what makes it worth it. When everything you’ve experienced has conditioned you to fight the thing that makes your heart sing and your whole world careen to a stop… that’s love. And Klaus looks at her like a wolf begging the moon to come down to him and take away the pain of night that has been bound to him for centuries, and if only he could find a cliff tall enough, maybe she would stop looking down on him and just be his already.

Ignited by the same heat that lines the walls of Tartarus, they know what it’s like to see red and want to dance in the blood each other no longer really needs. It’s a craving, to destroy and obliterate the other with words and fangs and miles and miles of distance. Flames dance high and without break, and if primordial beings can’t escape this kind of boundary, what makes them think they can? Caroline needs to feel Klaus break under her, because if she’s the only one with fragile bones, then how could she ever be his? With the strength of a thousand men, and then some, Klaus is either the end of her or the part of her that keeps her standing tall, and she needs him to show her which one she’ll walk beside, if she’s ever to find forever in the lines on his palms. Klaus, so lost and misguided, only knows the destruction of love, and Caroline does not bend to him, so how on earth is he supposed to know if she’s true- if she could ever be his? Little does he know, that by walking away, he gives her everything she needs to come after him and make all the doubts he has fade into nothing but a smile. Because she will be giving him love, when he has only known how to take it.

New, blue fabric has a way of becoming more than a dress that moves along a beautiful woman’s form. It was only supposed to be a gift, a bribe to get a trifle of a fancy out of his system. Yes, he saw it and knew it would do just fine. Just fine- what an understatement, when it wrapped around her like the stars themselves took a dip in the sea. It embodied the depths of her eyes and the frozen lines beneath the skin of her collarbones. How do you walk away from that sort of perfection? Klaus is a starving artist, desperate for purpose, and she becomes it. Would muse suffice when the drawings his hands produce are nothing short of offerings to the goddess with sunlight hair and eyes that oceans could only pretend to be. Love at first sight? Hardly. She became his North Star, his beacon, which means so much more to a man without a heart, for he needed to be found or to find, or to stumble across the way his heart tastes in his throat before he dares utter the words he knows only in theory.

Eternity. There is no end. 


*peeks out* Hi :) 

CS AU week day 7- free for all.

Summary: Princess Emma is cursed. No one has been able to help her. And her only option is finding the wizard they call the Heartless One.

 Word count: 2297

slightly inspired by Howl’s Moving Castle.

The castle is silent and still, but Emma is pacing back and forth. Her heart is racing and her head is pounding.

Her eighteenth birthday is only a few weeks away and she is miserable.

In every face she passes there is fear and pity. Like she was going to burst into flame at any moment. Or she was a convict headed for the gallows instead of a young woman in the prime of life.

Gods damn this stupid curse.

Keep reading

The Dress

Anonymous asked: Ohhh, if it’s okay, could I request another one? Perhaps the reader sees a beautiful dress in Dale and stares longingly at it but says nothing-then, a few days later, for their birthday, Thorin gets them it as a surprise! (I’m sorry for requesting so much but I love your writing! thank you so much uvu)

So, here goes Nonny! I made a small change to the timeline, and it’s like a super fluff-a-thon up in here, but I’m kinda smiling right now. Thanks for the prompt! //edited 5/19/14 for extra fluffiness.

The air is warm but surprisingly pleasant the day you spend in Dale, visiting the various vendors and artisans hawking their creations at the city’s vibrant summer festival. You delight in the absence of royal duties, responsibilities and feasts, even if the latter over the last few days have been in honor of your birthday.

While the celebrations certainly have been fun, they could not take the place of the best birthday gift of all: Thorin returning home to you a day early after a three-week journey, or the present you’re giving yourself a day later:  free time – with a guard and a handmaiden nearby, of course. Thorin had insisted on that.

You’ve bought several small items – wind chimes, hair clips, lanterns. Carved from various woods with intricate detailing, they may not glimmer like the gems and gold of Erebor, but the love that went into making them shines through. 

And then, you see it.

Hanging on the outside edge of a large, multi-colored tent in the center of festival activity, a dress sways in the summer breeze, seeming to give off a devil-may-care attitude. It is a casual, floor-length cotton dress with an A-line skirt topped with a bodice and long sleeves, a piece as piercing blue as your King’s eyes.

It begs you to come closer, and you acquiesce, reaching out to touch it. At first, the flirty bodice, dipping at the neckline to form a “V,” appears plain and unadorned, until your fingertips feel a raised swirling pattern on the sides running from the hip to the underarm. You gently lift a sleeve to reveal the intricate image of an ocean wave fashioned out of thread that’s a few shades darker than the rest of the dress, the wave’s crest stitched in pure white. How many spools of perfectly blue thread it must have taken to achieve this realistic detail!

Your heart swells as you recognize the style of the dress. It was made in your homeland.

There, frocks were sewn as soon as possible for the intended wearer. They were truly gifts from the heart,  and the seamstress always stitched in something personal, unusual or surprising – like these nearly-hidden waves.

As the sun begins its descent, you decide it’s time to walk away from it, remembering your wardrobe at Erebor is overflowing with more visually breathtaking ensembles that have been carefully crafted with the finest fabrics and by the most talented hands in Middle Earth. You reason that there is really no need to add to your large collection, no matter how this dress speaks to your heart.

You politely signal to the guard and handmaiden that it’s time to return home.

Thorin greets you in the halls outside one of the meeting chambers soon after your arrival, quickly plants a kiss on your forehead and asks you about your afternoon.

You tell him all about the wonderful crafts, music, and people, but withhold the part about the dress. He seems a bit distracted and you know it’s because he’s still busy with his advisers, wrapping up loose ends from his recent trip. He kisses you again before disappearing into another gathering.

You spend a very quiet evening in your chambers, eating a light supper, sipping wine, followed by reading in bed. Before long, thoughts of the dress prompt memories of your native land and its surrounding waters, stirring up a profound homesickness. You fight it off, and remind yourself that Erebor is your home.

It’s close to 10 p.m. when Thorin finally comes up, doing a very poor job of hiding something wrapped in plain brown paper behind his back as he slips through the door. You look up from your book.

“What have you got there?”


You wrinkle your brow and point at the obvious package.


“This?” He brings the box around to the front. “I forgot I was carrying it.”

You tilt your head, narrow your eyes and purse your lips.

“Is that what I think it is? Another pelt?”

Thorin nods his head slowly, looking sheepish, which isn’t easy for him. He sits on the bed and slides the package toward you.

“What do I need with a pelt?”

“Tell me what you think.”

You sigh and nudge him playfully with your elbow. Of course you don’t mind if he has another pelt. He loves them and he looks sexy in them, and that’s all that matters.

You put down your book and begin to unwrap the package, flashing smiles at him as you go. As you pull back the last bit of brown paper, an azure light hits your eyes.

Either this pelt came from a blue wolf, or….

Your mouth drops open.

“One last birthday gift,” Thorin says.

Your breathing quickens as the surprise continues to wash over you.

“How did you…?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “The King just knows his Queen’s tastes.”

There’s a brief silence and a quick look in each other’s eyes before you both let out soft laughter.

Sure, the King just knows his Queen’s tastes – with some help from an observant guard and handmaiden, of course! Thorin’s little spies told him of your fondness for the dress, and then Thorin had it secretly delivered while you relaxed.

You settle down, slide closer to him and place your head on his shoulder, thanking him and kissing his neck as he wraps an arm around you and holds you near.

You realize that it’s not the dress that makes you feel like you’re finally home, or the grand halls of this Lonely Mountain; it’s your loving, thoughtful King.

If You Will (2/?)

Ship: AHOT6
Summary: Michael is an unpresented wolf from a pureblood Alpha Family. After being forced out of his home by his mother, he sets on a path to find his mate, what he gets is not what he could have expected.

Warnings: a/b/o dynamic, werewolves but like…not really. 

Thank you for the wonderful reaction to chapter 1! Now enjoy some familiar faces and lots of travelling. Thanks to tinypeckers and thanksforthefalloutboy for reading through!



Part 1

Keep reading

This Valentine

This is my gift for percico-feels, she’s is an amazing blogger, whose credit should be pouring all over the percico fanbase right now in my opinion. I know this is super late but HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU JULIANNA.

Word count: 3256

Summary:Nico wanted to make sure Percy didn’t do anything stupid on Valentine’s day but he also did not want Percy to sulk at home. Meanwhile, Percy was up to an entirely different plan.

Madleidy is my dear beta.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, Rick Riordan does.

#Long distance relationship. #human!au

Like any other day, Nico di Angelo turned on his laptop first thing in the morning. He hadn’t brushed his teeth, combed his hair, or drank a glass of water like he was supposed to. The icon on the left corner of the screen was already lit up, showing that the other person was online. Nico’s eyes traveled down to see the messages he received.

 “Happy Valentine’s day, Nico!”

“You too, Percy,” he typed in, and checked the date. It was indeed Valentine’s Day.

 “Any papers turned in?”

 “No. Deadline’s three days ago.”

 “Are you going to do anything today?

Nico refrained from replying with, “Missing you” and instead with a “I haven’t figured out anything yet.”

Nico stretched. His heart dipped a little when he thought about how they were going to spend their second valentine half way across the Earth from each other.

 “Me, too. Mom and Paul will be out on a date, just like old times.”

You’re not going out?” Nico asked, fingers moving on his keyboard.

“I don’t feel like it,” was the answer.

Nico came back with a toothbrush in his mouth, careful not to let the foam fall down on his precious laptop, which took forever to purchase. He typed back, “It’s college, Percy. At least drag yourself to the clubs.”

“You know I won’t,” was sent by his sociable, outgoing boyfriend.

Nico wondered if he was weighing Percy down. Long-distance relationships hardly ever worked but he didn’t want to break what they had and Percy was too stubborn to move on.

 “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” he could even imagine how the pair of eyebrows furrowed in confusion above the beautiful sea green eyes.

 “For keeping you like this. You could be happy with someone right now.”

“That’s not the way things work, Nico. I just don’t want to be happy with someone that is not you.” Nico smiled when he saw the smiley face from Percy. “And I’m keeping you, too!”

Nico knew Percy was trying to dispel his worries. The green-eyed always tried to cheer him up when Nico said such things, which happened occasionally.

“I love you, Percy.” Nico felt as if something were stuck in his throat. He hated how ineffable his love for Percy was because he found it difficult to express his feelings, even through letters. “I miss you.”

 “I love you and miss you so much, Nico.”

 “Please be safe, Percy. Don’t do anything stupid.”

 “I’ll try not to.”

Percy’s icon went off at half past six unexpectedly, leaving Nico alone in his empty room, whose source of light came only from his laptop.


Meanwhile, Percy was typing furiously down on his keyboard, trying to finish another essay before flying again. He couldn’t remember when he first took off from Manhattan anymore, his mind too clouded from transition flights. The lady next to him kept complaining about how the noise from his typing prevented her from sleeping so Percy was making full use of the time he had before another take-off.

Percy Jackson was always the one for crazy decisions but he definitely wouldn’t regret taking international flights to celebrate Valentine’s day with his boyfriend, who was unaware of Percy’s plan. He informed his professors about not showing up in class for a few days and asked if he could turn in the papers through emails. Luckily, all of them agreed.

An announcement was made and Percy unplugged his laptop, readied himself for another flight. He stretched, body aching from having sat too long. His determination was refreshed when Percy caught a glimpse of the blue digital number on his other watch. Being terrible with time differences, he wore two watches on his left arm, the black one showing Singapore’s time so that he knew when to text Nico. The green-eyed could barely wait to see his boyfriend again, after what felt like a decade of seeing each other through selfies and video calls.


“I always thought we had a chance,”Reyna said, her voice stiff, showing that she was on the verge of tears again. Nico sighed when he looked at the red-rimmed eyes of his friend.

“She’s just confused.” He patted her on the back as the woman with a long braid flowing on her back downed a cup of tequila. “Give her some time.”

“She’s been avoiding me for two weeks.”

“She’s just busy.”

“Annabeth is Annabeth.” Reyna wiped away her forming tears.

Nico nodded, thinking about Percy. He used to travel a lot during his gap year, which was how he had met Percy. The green-eyed had taken him for a ride but somehow ended up traveling with him. Nico indulged his little crush and Percy was so obvious that Nico almost ditched him in anger. The crush grew bigger and bigger as they talked like a hungry wolf trying to stuff itself with meat, which led to Nico returning home. He didn’t remember giving Percy his number but the taller called him three months later. Having found out that they both lived in Manhattan, they started hanging out and became a couple despite the investable obstacle of distance hung in the air above them when Nico had planned to study in Singapore before they met. It was done out of anger when his sister declared that she needed to live her own life now so Nico had to stick to his decision and be responsible for whatever awaits him like an independent adult.

He gave Reyna’s arm a light squeeze and refrained from hugging her. Thinking about Percy and seeing Reyna, his strong comrade, in tears had softened him. It was also Valentine’s day and Percy hadn’t texted him back after fifteen messages. At first, he told the green-eyed about going out with Reyna to cheer her up. Then he failed to suppress the feelings that Percy might want to imply something by not texting him back. A few incoherent words were sent and Nico shut down his laptop, fears slowly consumed him from the inside.

“Here.” Reyna pushed her tequila towards him. “You’re feeling down, too.”

“I’m not.” Nico eyed the drink, fingers tapping on the table. He didn’t like alcohol because of what it did to him.

“Then drink to put up with me later.”

It was eight pm and it was Valentine’s anyway. Nico gave in, the two friends drank, and time dragged.


“What!?” Percy and the lady whose seat was next to his were informed that their luggage was on another flight. He had no option but to wait for it and he had arrived later than expected already. The thought of queuing in lines of passengers waiting to finish the immigrant procedures enervated his jet lagged body.

The old lady, not being able to handle the silence and his scowling face, started to break the ice.

“Are you on a holiday?” she asked, voice tired but not weak. Percy looked at her worriedly.

“No, I’m here to visit someone.”

“Is he in college, too?”

“Yes, how do you know I’m a college student?”

“You look like my grandson, Fai. He is always typing and writing now. He used to like archery.”

“I think he will take it up again when, you know, he has the time.”

“Fai has to run our apartments alone, he has no time,” the old lady explained, her eyes were bright.

“You love him very much,” Percy said, blushing because of his obvious sentence and the look the lady was giving him.

“Of course I do. But I do not show him that. The boy needs to be strong and independent.” She nodded, her posture stiff. “If you do need a place to stay, here’s the address.” She pulled out the card from her purse. “It’s a small place but we do let students rent.”

“Thanks for your kindness. I think I’ll go to my friend’s apartment.” Percy accepted the card but he didn’t give it a second thought.

Their luggage arrived and after that Percy lost sight of the grandmother, even though he tried looking for her.

His second indignant “What!” was sounded when Percy found out he lost the note on which Nico’s address was written. After a futile attempt on searching for it, he tried to find the nearest place with wifi in order to reload his and Nico’s previous conversations. The green-eyed saw new messages and immediately sensed that his boyfriend was being worried. He was torn between telling Nico that he was here, in Singapore, so close to the dark brown-eyed now and keeping his surprise to himself until the very last minute.

“Nico, I love you so much. I’m sorry for not texting but I’ll tell you everything later.” Percy hoped Nico see this message.

His boyfriend wasn’t online.

The address looked familiar and Percy made sure to write it down on his wrist this time. The black clock showed that it was twenty to ten p.m. Percy took a deep breath to refresh his determination as he headed for Changi’s ATM station.


Nico felt tears on his face as he unlocked his room. It was so cold, the ground was freezing and the tidiness resulted in too much blank space. He locked the door, threw his phone on the bed and gulped down as much water as he could. He hardly ever regarded himself as a lonely person, building his reputation of an extremely independent person. However, loneliness captured him tonight and Nico low-key did not want to escape.

The black-haired fell face down onto his mattress, not even bothered to take off his hoodie, thinking that he would be crying himself to sleep. He reached out for a pillow and curled into a ball but sleep came faster than expected and saved him from the loneliness that he was supposed to be familiar with.


Percy wanted to vomit as he woke up from his unsatisfying nap on the speed train. His stomach turned again and again, his head aching. The green-eyed cursed his serious state of jet lag while he walked out on the street, his backpack and small suitcase following behind. Crossing the restaurants which smell of late night barbecues, Percy felt nauseous even more. He walked and walked through blocks of buildings, feet dragging with the heaviness of the laptop on his weary shoulders, trying to find the address.

When he did find it, Percy could only mutter a few incoherent words to the managers before he collapsed on the floor beneath the counter.

The young manager, also a Chinese college student, helped Percy recovered from his exhaustion with glasses of warm water and ginger biscuits. They were sitting in a room fully provided with furniture and the manager, Frank, asked for his personal information to fill in the forms while taking his ID card and passport. Percy told Frank that he only wanted to rent for some hours before his friend took him in.

“Friend? Don’t you mean love interest or something?”

“How do you know I was going to see my boyfriend?”

“Dude, no college students would go half way across the world to visit a friend-“

Percy was about to fire back but Frank held up a hand. “-on Valentine’s day.”

“Shit,” Percy clamped a hand over his tired eyes. “It’s almost over.” It was 12:25 am.

“I know.” Frank sighed. “Long-distance relationships are difficult.”

“You, too?” Percy asked and Frank slumped down, just a little bit. Percy noticed that the Chinese was wearing a really old sweater.

“Her name’s Hazel. She’s the most beautiful.”

“The name sounds familiar.”

“She lives in Bali with her aunt. Since they have a thing for witchcraft, Bali was perfect. She’ll go to college here, next year.”

“Wait, Nico has a sister whose name is Hazel.”

“Nico’s your boyfriend?” Frank asked. “You are Percy Jackson?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you wrote down my name.”

Frank eyed his heavy and thick textbook on his lap and Percy nodded. A pile of those could cause you to momentarily forget everything around you.

“So… the dude with sea green eyes and body of a Greek soldier?” Frank said and Percy’s face heated up. “Nico can say the cheesiest things in a dead serious tone, you know.”

“He can?” Percy’s insides were flooded with warm feelings and longing to see Nico again. “Frank, you’ve got to help me. I need to see him now.”

“Look, Percy. I’d love to help you and you look like a really nice guy but I can’t let you in his room without permission.” The buff Chinese stood up and put his book away. “I can give him a call. Hopefully he would answer.”

“But I want to surprise him!” Percy pouted, hoping that he hadn’t crossed the line of Frank’s patience.


“Are you drunk? Are you listening to me right now, Nico?” Frank asked and Percy cringed because he remembered Nico saying that he didn’t like alcohol but somehow was drunk today.

“Who is that that you want me to share my room with? Temporarily right?” Nico asked lethargically from the other side of the phone.

“Percy. Your boyfriend. Percy Jackson.”

“Your boyfriend is going to sleep in my room?” Nico asked again and Percy swore Frank rolled his eyes the twentieth time during that phone call.

“Yes, your boyfriend.”

“Okay.” Frank hung up and sighed. He turned to Percy, who was sitting on the stool at the counter, swiping his finger across the glass surface of his blue watch.

“I don’t even know why he sounds even drunker than when he came back.” Percy hopped down from the stool and hugged him, a true bear hug. “Dude, I owed Nico so much that you better make him happy. But try to keep it down, okay? My grandmother is upstairs.”

“I will.” Percy grinned, feeling a bit less tired.


When he stepped into Nico’s room, nostalgia ate him alive. For months away from his boyfriend, Percy witnessed the changes in Nico’s personality through their conversations. From a bitter teen who had ran away from home and snapped at Percy all the time, Nico turned into a calmer person. His aura changed and so did his appearances, whose changes became more and more evident through their video calls. However, his smell remained the same, just mixed with the lingering smell of tequila.

Nico’s room was predictably clean and spacious. The only thing that stood out from its tidiness was the lump of blanket on the white mattress. Percy’s breath hitched, heart pounding. He had expected to reunite with Nico earlier so that he could figure out how to react to Nico’s shocked expression and just improvised easily.

All sore and exhausted, Percy lied down next to Nico, close to his messy mop of hair. He stroke the soft dark curls and turned Nico so that the sleeping boy was facing him. Percy’s heart ached when he saw the dark circles and sharp angles on the Italian’s features. It was college written all over his face. Percy wondered if college life hadn’t taken its toll on him or Nico was working twice as hard as others. He kissed away the frown on his boyfriend’s face and embraced him gently, too tired to say “I miss you,” which had been ringing in his ears ever since he started flying from Manhattan.


Nico woke up at five, hung over and annoyed. He couldn’t handle his morning breath and hated how his hoodie reeked of tequila. The onyx-eyed sure as hell wouldn’t dare to wear it to class today. Taking it off and dumping it in the laundry basket, Nico headed straight to the bathroom, wincing when his feet made contact with the floor. It was unusually damp, Nico scowled at himself, he must have been so drunk that he had forgotten to mop it after washing. He didn’t remember having washed anything so his attempt at recollection made him frown at his reflection on the mirror while brushing his teeth.

When he saw the strange pair of shoes, he rushed back to his mattress with a forbidden thought that he might have had a nightstand and cheated on his boyfriend. Nico’s heart told him it wasn’t the truth but he couldn’t find any other reason behind that pair of converses. The person was still asleep, his face hidden beneath a pillow. Contrary to Nico’s fear, he wasn’t naked but somehow Nico was still not assured. He took a minute to check if there were hickeys on his neck or any sign of having crossed the boundaries. Having heard numerous stories about his friends’ nightstands, the Italian had promised to himself to never be in such situation.

“Hey!” He shook the other person, too freaked out to realize his rudeness. “What did we do last night? Hey!”

“What?” It’s too early, Leo!” The dude grunted and swatted his arm at Nico’s direction. Nico noticed his familiar voice and strangely, two different watches on his left wrist.

“It’s not. You have to leave, now!” Nico urged.

“Five more minutes and I’ll sleep in your bunk, three days!”

“Wake the hell up!” The shorter teen grabbed his left arm and tried to pull him out of the mattress.

“A week!”

“I shouldn’t have drunk last night.” He clamped a hand over his wet eyes. Nico had failed to remember what happened, which was pathetic. Reyna should have stopped him, maybe she had been too drunk to notice, too. How could he allow something like this to happen to him?

Nico began to sob loudly. All the stress built up from the day before and the horror of his new found situation poured out through the tears.

“Wait, Nico!” The sleepy mess that had been lying next to him sat up and grabbed his shoulder. Nico turned, attempted to punch him but was stared at by the sea green eyes whose light a little bit dull from sleepiness.

“It’s me, Percy.”

“Percy? I-I don’t understand,” Nico babbled, tears still trailing down but a wave of relief was rising. “Is this a dream? Sure it’s weird.”

“Look.” “Percy” got up and walked out to grab something from the pair of jeans hanging from Nico’s chair. Nico was rooted to the spot until the green-eyed returned and gave him… airplane tickets. He went over and over the date and destinations as “Percy” slowly pulled him close until his back was against the broad chest.

“How? Why?” he croaked, not turning around to face Percy. Nico was afraid that if he did, Percy would disappear in a puff of smoke.

“I wanted to celebrate Valentine’s day with you but things went wrong. Happy belated Valentine’s, Nico.”

Nico cried again, hands covering his face. He was crying because of the confusion he was facing and how surreal reality suddenly became. The hilarity of the situation when he thought he had cheated, the fact that this was a normal day like any other day but Percy was here, right behind him and arms around him, didn’t help Nico to stop crying.

Percy turned his face around and they kissed. The familiar sensation worked well as a reassurance but it ended too fast so Nico started to sob against Percy’s chest as soon as they parted. Then Percy started crying, too. The taller made no sound but Nico knew thanks to the changes in his breathing. His boyfriend was here and was crying with him, it was real enough.

They both knew their tears were happy ones, now.

Faking It: Viewer Notes, Spoilers, Tropes + Continuity Season 2A

I watch too much of this show and these are some of the general notes, opinions, and observations I have concerning it now that season two A has aired. There are some spoilers here for those who haven’t yet watched, be warned. 

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