this passage though

pssst, emma canonically sailed on the jolly roger before she was even born.

I am re-reading A Dance with Dragons and I am finding even more parallels between Jon and Daenerys. They are so alike in their thoughts.

Gods. Help me now, I pray you. Give me the wisdom to see the path ahead and the strength to do what I must to keep my children safe. - Daenerys

Gods of the wood, grant me the strength to do the same, Jon Snow prayed silently. Give me the wisdom to know what must be done and the courage to do it. - Jon


I am queen over a city built on dust and death. - Daenerys

Castle Black was still and silent, its halls and towers dark. My seat, Jon Snow reflected. My hall, my home, my command. A ruin. - Jon

I will find more similarities such as these I am sure. I think I’ll re-write the meta of the parallels between Jon and Daenerys once I finish my re-read.

Peridot is anything but common


I guarantee your safe passage. Though you’re always welcome to take your chances down there.

emma-blackthron  asked:

Why would Malcolm take Jem and Tessa's word when they weren't even born when Annabelle is "taken from him"? Blaming Magnus makes more sense, since Magnus was alive and most likely knew if Malcolm and Annabelle. Also, how does Jem not know Annabelle isn't an Iron Sister? Or is becoming a Iron Sister like becoming a Silent Brother where they choose another name? Like how Jem is/was Brother Zachariah.


I was initially very confused by this question because of course Malcolm didn’t hear about Annabel becoming an Iron Sister from Jem or Tessa – as you say, they weren’t alive then. So I went through Lady Midnigh and I think you are referring to these passages in Lady Midnight, though Jem isn’t mentioned:

Lies?” Malcolm’s voice rose. “You want to talk about lies? They lied to me about Annabel. They said she had become an Iron Sister. All of them told me the same lie: Magnus, Catarina, Tessa. It was from a faerie I found out that they had lied. From a faerie I learned what had really happened to Annabel. By then she was long dead. The Blackthorns, murdering their own!”

“They told me she’d become an Iron Sister. All of them lied to me—Magnus, Catarina, Ragnor, Tessa—corrupted by Shadowhunters, drawn in by their lies! And I, oblivious, grieving  for her, until finally I found out the truth—”

And then here, Jem talks to Emma about Malcolm:

Jem turned back toward her, the light of sympathy in his dark eyes. “We heard everything from Magnus. He told us that you were the one who killed Malcolm,” he said. “That must have been hard. You knew him. It’s not like killing demons.”
“I knew him,” Emma said. “At least, I thought I did.”
“We knew him too. Tessa was heartbroken to hear that Malcolm believed that we all lied to him. Concealed from him that Annabel was not an Iron Sister, but was dead, murdered by her family. We believed the story, but he died thinking we all knew the truth. What a betrayal that must have felt like.”
“It’s strange to think he was your friend. Though I guess he was our friend too.”
“People are more than one thing. Warlocks, no less. I would not even hesitate to say that Malcolm once did much good, before he did evil. It is one of the great lessons of growing up, learning that people can do both.”

My guess, and I apologize if I’m wrong, is that you’re expanding Malcolm’s statements to mean: “They lied to me about Annabel. They said she had become an Iron Sister. All of them told me the same lie: Magnus, Catarina, Tessa. They were the first people to tell me what happened to Annabel. They are all very responsible and very involved in what happened with Annabel and with me.”

None of that is true, though. 

It isn’t like Malcolm’s warlock friends were the ones who broke the news to him that Annabel joined the Iron Sisters. They didn’t. You’ll find out more about what happened with Annabel, the Clave, the Iron Sisters, and Malcolm in LOS but Malcolm was told the lie about Annabel joining the Iron Sisters by the Clave and Annabel’s family (and even though he didn’t like them, he wouldn’t have thought the truth was that they’d murdered her instead. That is extreme and not the sort of thing anyone would assume.) 

Everyone but a very few people in the government and Annabel’s family believed she had joined the Iron Sisters and they had good reasons to believe it. But Malcolm thinks his friends should have known better than to repeat the lie (that they didn’t know was a lie.) Malcolm felt betrayed by Tessa, Magnus, Catarina, and Ragnor specifically because he thinks they might have had inside information, since all of them are warlocks who have been known to associate closely with Shadowhunters, and Tessa was even married to one.

Malcolm is being unreasonable. He is like someone who found out his wife is cheating and so gets rid of all of his friends because “"they probably knew about it” even though they didn’t. But then Malcolm is also willing to punish the Blackthorns of 200 years ago by killing the Blackthorns of today so we should not look to him for logic, just rage and betrayal.

Iron Sisters do take on other names, just like Silent Brothers do. That is why they have similar sounding names, and why none of them is introduced with a last name. They are extremely secretive; there’s no reason to believe that Jem would know who any of them had been before they renounced their old lives. Diana actively sought out that information, but there’s no reason Jem or anyone else would have done so: why would they be checking up on Malcolm’s ex-girlfriend? There was no reason to do that when he thought she had voluntarily become an Iron Sister and by the time found out she hadn’t, he didn’t need them to check on it, and didn’t tell them anyway.

Malcolm probably does blame Magnus but that is because Malcolm blames everyone friendly with Shadowhunters, not because Malcolm has any logical reason to blame any of these people, half of whom weren’t born when Annabel was killed. Just because Malcolm is angry that Tessa and the others believed the official story (which he told them!) that Annabel had become an Iron Sister rather than magically figuring out it hadn’t happened that way doesn’t mean they were responsible for the lie in the first place. They have next to nothing to do with the whole business. They just happen to be who Malcolm and Diana are discussing in this one scene.

Moon of Fire Part i (Sastiel Sequel)

Sastiel is a fic inspired from Rowaelin’s child and Feysand’s child being mates. Thank you to @dorianthekinkymf for reading this first part early, and giving me her amazing support, and for @dr-woodsprite for the title inspiration! And also to the girls who have done beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful Sastiel edits, @cassianandfenrysaremyboyos @readinglikewildfire @thebookdiviner @poseiodn @dorianthekinkymf I love you guys so much a thousand thank yous!

If you haven’t read A Court of Fire and Dreams:
Check out Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV and Part V.

Moon of Fire:
Part i, Part ii, Part iii, Part iv, Part v


Darkness covered Seraphine.
She was delirious, sprawled on a wooden floor, a wild raging pain deep in her head. Though her hands—bloody, shackled.
Despite this, a bigger problem was at hand.
Below her, a circle similar to the one drawn by Amren and Feyre at the House of Wind was slightly visible in the dark.
I came alive when I met you she had said to him, before she was to go back home to her family. To Terrasen.
Now, bars surrounded her from all sides. Wooden walls caved her in. She was trapped, her powers, her fire non-existent.
Not again, not again, not again. Seraphine forced her mind to calm, but she didn’t feel in control of herself anymore.
A corner of the cloth covering the wagon was pulled back. She stared at a wild eyed man, his eyes the colour of blood, wearing strange clothing she had never seen before.
“Got somewhere else to be, princess?”
He laughed as she said nothing.
“Didn’t think so.”
The man tried to grab her through the bars, laughing maniacally, and she felt now, that the tunic once owned by Kastiel was too short to be worn here.
“Don’t try anything funny,” he spat at her.
Seraphine had been so sure that her family needed her here, that they were in danger. Now she didn’t know what to think.
She swallowed her fear, listening intently at the sounds outside. The rustling of never ending trees. The breeze of fresh grass. Horses, being tended to. Though her powers were gone, her fae hearing weren’t. They must have been at an outpost, her capturers taking a break and resting the horses.
Near silent footsteps approached the horses at the front of the carriage, murmuring gentle words to the animals.
Seraphine was drawn to their tender voice. She crawled towards the edge of the wagon, tearing out a small piece of cloth from the bottom of her dress.
She takes a deep breath and pushes her hands through the bars and the cloth, towards the horse tender.
“For anyone in Terassen,” she whispers to him, dropping the piece. Seraphine didn’t know if he caught it, or if it simply landed on the ground.
The horse tender was about to make a sound, about to speak to her, before he was yanked heavily back. He yells in fright, a commotion breaking off as Seraphine hears the sound of skin pounding on skin.
The doors to her wagon opened, blinding her with bright daylight.
“What did you give him,” the red eyed guard yells.
Seraphine crawled to the back of the wagon, making herself into a ball. She was weak, she had no powers, she was not strong enough to escape into the heart of what could only be Oakwald Forest.
“I said,” the man yells, grabbing Seraphine by the shoulders and shaking her. “What did you give him?”
Seraphine said nothing.
Red eyes were the last thing she saw before the pummel of a sword knocked her out.


The journey through Oakwald forest left Seraphine’s mind in tatters. Her cheek lay on the cool wood, trying to clear her mind. She couldn’t tell how many days had passed, how many hours she had spent in the darkness of her wagon. The men forced her a drink, which suppressed her strength and powers. If they were travelling to Oakwald Forest, then there was a high chance that they were headed to Terrasen—her home. She snickered at the thought of these men bargaining her for whatever it is they desired from her court. Did they think they would make it out alive? The thought made Seraphine warm with joy. Going home didn’t seem so bad now.
Her heavy lids threatened to close again, just before she sees in the corner of her wagon, a flower, the moon illuminating it through the covers. She crawled towards it, her sodden tunic dragging through the markings on the wooden planks. She picks up the delicate blue, almost silver thing, pressing it to her face, inhaling the familiar scent—moonflower.
She swore she could hear giggling in the far distance.

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“Memory” Original lyrics

Did y’all know that Tim Rice submitted a set of lyrics for “Memory” when Cats was still being developed in London?

IIRC, “Memory” was written at the behest of Trevor Nunn really wanting a big, showstopping ballad for the show, leading ALW to compose the melody without any lyrics. They then contacted a host of lyricists to pen a potential lyric, among them Tim Rice, who initially balked but then agreed once Elaine Paige joined the show as Grizabella. Rice’s lyric is considerably darker than the final version used in the show, and goes as follows:

Street lights
And the darkness between them
Like the good and the bad sides
Of a life almost done.
Shake the memory
All my passions returning to me
None forgotten
No, not one.

One life
Is there only the one life
That we lose in the living
In an endless decline?
No complaining
For no one else has seen what I’ve seen
One existence
Only mine

Don’t look back no don’t look back
So hard to heed that warning
Such temptation but the past is past
And the night makes way for morning

I won’t care if it finds me
With no breath in my body
With no beat in my heart
For I’m certain
That now I know what happiness is
Wish I’d known that
From the start

Touch me
Is there no one to touch me
It was easy to love me
In my glamorous past
As I leave you
A shadow of the light I once was
May my memory
Sleep at last

By the time Rice agreed to write the song, though, Nunn was already working on his own lyric, incorporating lines from various T.S. Elliot poems (most prominently “Rhapsody on a Windy Night”), and ended up choosing his own to use for the show. Allegedly, Elaine Paige far preferred Rice’s lyric.

drosera-sundews  asked:

I can’t help thinking, I know from myths some magical things require belief. Like curses and prophesies, the more you believe in them the more potent they will become. And that got me thinking, wouldn’t there be this one student who just didn’t believe. Who would be in on everything, the eavesdroppers, the weird spaces in the library, the crows, but just denied anything was out of order. Loudly proclaiming magic isn’t real, while waltzing right though the strongest glamour without a doubt. (1/4)

Laughing at the others for their silly fairytales. And the fun thing is, for them, it works. Any glamour falls apart under their scorn and any spell weakens by their ridicule. Some people are just so close-minded and disbelieving, magic slips right off of them, unable to get a grip. And other students, they are all too willing to use that to their advantage. (2/4)          

The trade-off? The Fair Folk is very, very outrageously mad at this one kid! He even managed to get Jimothy on his bad side by calling him ‘the ugliest thing the art majors came up with since the giraffe-man’. He’s constantly guarded by a few close friends when roaming around campus to make sure he doesn’t accidentally talk to anymore of the Gentry. It’s a miracle he hasn’t lost his name yet. (¾)         

So if you do have a hex on you, or a passage blocked by glamour you cannot possible get through? Just go to dorm 2 and grab Bricks the engineer, he’ll set you straight! Make sure he doesn’t follow you through that passage though, or you’ll either not find the Fair Folk at all, or find them Armed to the Teeth and Very Very Pissed OF. (4/4)            

Here’s the thing: denial is a form of belief, and that matters here. Here’s the other thing: the existence of the Gentry here is a fact, whether you believe it or not. Around Bricks their belief in the perfectly mundane would distort the world until it was mundane. But it wouldn’t affect the Gentry themselves. So it’s very, very good Bricks has friends to act as buffers.

anonymous asked:

prompt: have you ever thought of a sprace fake dating au??

It occurred to me after I wrote this that it’s not what either of you had in mind but this is what I came up with so thought I’d share it anyway

Spot had no idea why he’d agreed to this. Well actually he knew exactly why he’d agreed – because Race had asked (and then persuaded by other means when simple words proved ineffective) – but that didn’t mean Spot had to be happy about it. Prom was supposed to be this big rite of passage thing and even though he’d told everyone he was only begrudgingly going because everyone else was and they’d spent days trying to talk him into it so he’d agreed just to shut them up, he actually did want to go. He wanted to spike the punch and dance inappropriately with Race to annoy the chaperones. He wanted to sneak out of the gym into the main school building so he could kiss Race in the middle of the empty classroom where they’d been called fags, just to prove a point. What he didn’t want was to be sat in Race’s garden, watching his boyfriend kiss someone else.

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“Most of Holden’s romances with his leading ladies ended with the completion of their movies together. Not so with Audrey Hepburn. To Holden, she embodied everything that he admired in a woman, and she was young. Bill had been an outspoken advocate of vasectomy and in later life he claimed never to have had regrets. But once, he did. At an evening at the Encore, a jazz nightclub on the Sunset Strip, Audrey tapped a spoon on her glass and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement.” She turned her eyes to the beaming Ferrer and said, “Mel and I are engaged to be married.” Everyone at the table greeted the announcement joyfully. Except Bill Holden. He remained grim-faced for the duration of the evening.“ Bob Thomas of The Milwaukee Journal +

Shance Fluff Week | What Lies Beyond the Morning

**For @shancefluffweek​ !! | Day Two - Sea/Stars (Myth!AU)

AO3 Link: What Lies Beyond Morning


In a child’s tale, handed down through the lineage of elders that greedily hungered for the divine art of storytelling, there was once a mighty black lion with the red wings of the sun.

The lion was a fast and a fearsome beast, yet to all who he blessed with his presence, they found a curious comfort; for such a large dark brute of a creature, the lion’s kindness knew no bounds, always giving to the people as they needed, whether it be for the sake of a village’s welfare or to bless the union between two lovers.

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Another Perfect Catastrophe -6

AUTHOR: Mikimoo
RATING: Mature

WARNINGS: Non Consensual drug use, Non Consensual touching, Non Consensual kissing, humour, slight mayhem

SUMMARY: Dick goes undercover as himself in order to catch a gang of international thieves. Jason reluctantly tags along as his long suffering bodyguard. During the ensuing mayhem they get to know each other again and build a few bridges.

Thank you to burkesl17 for the beta!

Notes: An embarrassingly long time ago, the amazing and very, very talented Pentapus invited me to do a reverse bang style exchange, and drew me an amazing prompt. I have no idea how this story was the one that emerged from the many options I had, but such is the creative process I guess! Anyhoo, many thanks to Pentapus for both encouragement and patience, and of course the incredible art! (which will be included at the end of the appropriate chapter)

Chapters: 1, 2, 3 4 5


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Bucky² (Part 3)

Summary: You’re a mutant with the power of dimensional, spatial and time manipulation, meaning you can travel to and from dimension, spaces and different times with ease. But one day, when you’re coming back from a particularly long mission, you brought something back that should never have come with you in the first place.

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything that Marvel has created and I certainly don’t own Sebastian Stan.

Warnings: Swearing, angst and serious topics of depression, self-worth and nervous picking below. If you’re sensitive, I suggest you read with caution, if not at all. (I don’t know if it’s triggering or not, but I’m just letting you know in case)

40′s!Bucky x Present!Bucky x Reader

||Please don’t repost anywhere or plagiarize||

Originally posted by a-night-in-wonderland

Third Person POV: 

Y/N stopped and squint at the pages, before gently taking the book from Sarge’s hold.

“We’ve still got time. It’s just branching out, that’s all. Let me see where it starts from, maybe I can figure out the source point, I can determine how long it’ll start erasing the more recent news events.” Y/N set the book down on the table, next to the others. Taking a quick glance, she noticed they were all history books. “Calm down, you two. It’s going to be alright. I’ve only done this once before, but I can remember how these things go.” She flipped through the book. “It starts erasing after the Boston Massacre in 1770 and it stops at the same time Sarge jumped through the portal with me. That’s approximately 174 years of time the paradox had completely disintegrated. We’ll remember everything, since we’re at the center, but everyone else will forget, this is normal. I’ll fix it.”

Now, she was going through the vortex to assess the damage.

Y/N sighed gently, sitting on the balcony, her long leather jacket rustling in the strong wind, her hair pulled back by the hat she was given by a young boy in the 20′s, twirling the watch around her fingertips as she looked out at the sky. 

It was the same outfit she wore every time she was on a mission. She loved the jacket and the hat. Tight black jeans encased her long legs with high-heeled ankle boots clicking against the glass and she wore a t-shirt with her favourite band’s logo emblazoned on the front.

“Fuck,” she whispered, her voice tired. The dark circles under her eyes matched her tone and she grit her teeth in frustration, “I’m doing this for Bucky!” Her fingers drummed against the ornate silver cover before she shoved it in her back pocket, swinging her legs around and she landed easily on the ground. 

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Runrig- ‘Dance Called America’

“In the evening, the company danced as usual. We performed, with much activity, a dance which, I suppose, the emigration from Sky has occasioned. They call it ‘America’. Each of the couples, after the common involutions and evolutions, successively whirls round in a circle, till all are in motion; and the dance seems intended to shew how emigration catches, till a whole neighbourhood is set afloat.”- James Boswell, “The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides”, 1773

Worth remembering this was just over a year before Janet Schaw also commented on emigration from the Northern Isles.

I don’t believe in God or the possibility of one anymore. But certain times of year I remember my past Christianity and this is one of them. The Christian sect I was part of in childhood used text from The Poem of The Man God by Maria Valtorta.  It’s not morbid curiosity but general sensitivity that meant the crucifixion chapter was one of the hardest-hitting to me. I read it aloud yesterday with unexpected reverence.  I’m going to post some excerpts I scanned today from the Crucifixion, just for a while.  My favorite passages though were always of the Virgin Mary immediately before the annunciation.