#a cursed date in middle earth history

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

While we’re marking the tragic and noble death of Théodred today (we’re all marking this, right? We should!)… here are a few thoughts on his last words:

“Let me lie here — to keep the Fords til Éomer comes.”

I don’t think it’s 100% clear exactly what he meant by “let me lie here.” A lot of people read it literally with “lie here” meaning “left here undisturbed” until his beloved cousin can arrive. But I also like to think that he’s specifically asking to be *buried* at the Fords, with “let me lie here” being in the sense of “here lies Théodred, son of Théoden,” for a very specific purpose.

All throughout Middle Earth (and, more broadly, Arda, because this is a thing that happens in the Silm a *bunch*, too) the final resting places of good and worthy people can take on a special hallowed quality. The land itself seems to hold some memory of the dead person that is manifested in both physical and metaphysical ways — grass and flowers flourish where they might otherwise not, and (critically) enemies and dark things become afraid to tread there. So perhaps Théodred wanted to be buried at the Fords rather than at home among the kingly barrows so that his final resting place could protect a strategically critical location (as the only place where a crossing of the Isen was possible) and forestall a full-on invasion until such time that it could be better defended by actual reinforcements from Éomer.

I think there’s good evidence for this reading. For starters, Elfhelm and Grimbold did bury Théodred at the Fords, and it makes sense that they’d act based on his expressed wishes if he had any. In addition, Théodred would have been perfectly aware of the almost magical hallowing effect of certain graves, and not just because of the tradition of simbelmynë spontaneously appearing on Rohirrim grave barrows. His own great grandfather had twin brothers, Folcred and Fastred, who were slain together in Gondor and buried there in the Haudh in Gwanûr (Mound of the Twins), which the enemies of Gondor thereafter always “feared to pass.” So it’s entirely plausible that he was thinking specifically about that when he spoke those words and hoped to achieve a similar effect. 

Éomer also gives some credence to this reading when our heroes pass by the Fords on their way to Isengard after Helm’s Deep. When they see the burial markers there for Théodred and his men, Éomer says, “Here let them rest. And when their spears have rotted and rusted, long still may their mound stand and guard the Fords of Isen!” He may just be speaking metaphorically there, but he may not. Based on a known phenomenon of his world, he may actually see their graves as a legitimate source of protection for the river crossing.

Anyway. There’s obviously an appealing emotional element to the idea that Théodred wanted to be reunited with his beloved cousin/quasi-brother at his death, and that’s what he meant by his final words. But I think there’s an equally emotional element to the idea that even as he lay dying, he was still trying to think of how he could use himself, in death as much as in life, to help defend his people and his land. ♥️

Either way, what an incredible person!

@sotwk and @celeluwhenfics fellow Théodred enthusiasts!

[giorno-plays-piano]

Binary Star

Part I

Pairing: academic rival!Satoru Gojo x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, power play, hurt/comfort, no curse au, this series will get darker as the story progresses.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?

____________

He is really going to get her this time. This is the finish line, quite literally: the graduation; his last attempt to win and emerge victorious from the very last battle between him and her. It has to be it.

If he couldn't win against her for the last time, Gojo would probably have a mental breakdown right in the middle of the ceremony. Geto standing right next to him rolls his eyes to the ceiling over his friend who's shaking from excitement and fear. Of course, Satoru wouldn't admit it even under torture, but Suguru knows better. The girl his friend has been competing with throughout high school isn't just smart: she's completely insane like Gojo and as big pain in the ass as him. Who knows, perhaps she'll really win this round. He prefers not to think of it.

Satoru searches for her in the crowd, standing on his toes despite already being a foot taller than anyone else in the hall. Is she here? This nightmarish woman who has been pushing him to give high school his all because she dared to take away his crown of the best student during their freshman year? When Satoru saw the scores, he thought he might have had a heart attack. There was no way he was no longer #1.

"That's what you get for messing around the chem lab," Shoko snorted while Satoru dumbly stared at the name of that annoying girl, always the teachers' pet, heading the list. His name was written right under hers.

What the actual fuck?! She got a better score than him? Him, the genius, with his undeniably superior IQ of 180 that he flaunted at any given time? Who did she think she was, Sheldon Cooper or something?

It got him so fired up he actually started studying.

"You're so dumb," Geto eventually said after his friend had gotten in the argument with the girl during their ethics class - again. "You know you could be making out with her now, right? She's the only person who could actually get along with your stubborn ass."

"Wha-a-at? What about you?" Immediately disregarding his question, Satoru was already pouting like a kid. "Wouldn't you date me?"

"Yeah, over my dead fucking body."

To be fair, it's not that Gojo never thought of her that way - she was pretty, even if he was never going to admit it out loud - but she was also so insufferable Gojo really couldn't focus on anything else but beating her in that game they were playing. The best score on the history exam? They both wanted it. Math test? Him and her were working on those questions as if their lives depended on it. Biology project? Satoru made sure to do the impossible, submitting something he would get a Noble prize for, and yet he still somehow managed to get the same grade as her. It was absolutely infuriating.

Why on Earth did she decide she could be better than him? He was Satoru Gojo, after all. The one and only son of Gojo family, who was not only embarrassingly rich but also fucking smart - his parents used to flaunt his talents throughout his whole childhood and continued doing it well into adulthood. He couldn't tell them he was no longer #1. What would his mother say? Dear God, it was hard to imagine what would happen to his father of he learned some random girl got a better grade for that English paper than him. It was, at the very least, unbecoming of Satoru.

But she was unrelenting, irritated with his status of the school genius, and ready to fight him on every occasion. Satoru had no idea what could piss her off so much - in the end, he was the most charming guy around, wasn't he? - but there wasn't a day she'd let him have his way. She was brave, persistent, and knowledgeable, and he hated her very much.

The fact that Shoko and Suguru were asking him to please get together with her and stop antagonizing the whole school only riled up Gojo even more. As if he was going to date that nerd!

When he learned she'd be running for the valedictorian, it was the last drop. No fucking way. She couldn't take it away from him - even if he had never actually cared about being a valedictorian.

If his friends had thought he was obessessing over her, now they realized Satoru went completely nuts. He started studying so much he barely slept: it was a given, considering the bags under his eyes were making his skinny ass look like a starving raccoon. Geto couldn't drag gim out even in between lessons because Satoru was immediately burying his head in the books.

It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?

Pfft, of course she won't. She'll probably stab him in the parking lot once he tries to get into his car.

But when the headmaster finally announces the results, and his, Satoru Gojo's, name is called, he no longer sees her in the crowd, and the sweet taste of victory suddenly turns to ashes in his mouth.

Where is she? She couldn't have known it would be him. To be frank, he didn't either. How could she leave right before the results were announced?

He gives his speech with a stupid smile plastered all over his face, but his mood has already soured. She had to be there to hear he was named this year's valedictorian! What face did she make? Did she leave right after she heard it wasn't her? Did she cry? Did she run away because she couldn't take it? Wasn't she going to say to him anything at all?

How could she just... vanish?

He doesn't know why he expected her to be the bigger person and come tell him he did great, but he truly did. Suddenly, he realizes he wants her to look him in the face and say he is good enough.

Did he need to be the bigger person, perhaps? But, wait, isn't he a bigger person by default because he's the winner, he wondered. The winner is always the bigger person if he doesn't rub loser's face in the dirt, right?

In the end, he couldn't even enjoy the victory he had been craving for so long.

"She had something urgent come up," Shoko says later in the restaurant, making a tsk-ing sound while Gojo listens to her with a frown on his face. "Something about her family."

Something about her family? What could be as important as the announcement of valedictorian?

"Are you dumb?" With a sigh, Suguru cocks his head to the side. "Plenty of things are more important than this valedictorian crap."

Maybe to somebody else, but not to her, Satoru thinks. Beating him has always been the only thing on her mind, and nothing could have changed that.

__________

He will be mulling over it for a long, long time once he realizes she did not follow him to Harvard despite her scholarship.

Part II

Tags: @minshookie29

[mamawasatesttube]

8, 19, 22?

8. Who's your favorite artist (fanon or canon)?

OOH. paul pelletier (artist for early superboy and the ravers) draws one of my favorite kons ever in canon (the curls. the curls!!) and of course i really like dan mora and jorge jiminez and also bilquis evely's art. shoutout also to fatima wajid for my Favorite smot cover, and david talaski for my second-favorite smot cover dsfkjlds

as for fanartists. rubs my little hands together and stares at all my mutuals who i adore. @cowboysorceror has some of the bestest colors on the entire planet. @litta-jpg's lines and shapes make me want to put every pic directly into my mouth. @mysterycitrus draws everyone so pretty i dont even know what to say here??? @byeara has sooo much personality in all of their character designs!!! @ghostiiest also just has such warmth and flavor to his art even as i study him under a microscope. @crimzoncrow has the mythical ability to make even the most cursed shit adorable. this is getting long i will stop here but every single artist mutual pal i am blowing you guys kisses please know this

19. What do you like about being a comics fan?

WELL as a guy who loves inhaling lore, connecting dots, engaging in general pedantry, and sorting through various bits of canon to pick my favorite versions,

(my first ever fandom, by which i mean the first one where i started like engaging in and creating stuff and reading meta or fics or looking at art, etc, was tolkien's legendarium, aka the silmarillion plus histories of middle-earth, if that tells you anything about me.)

22. Any comics you're looking forward to?

sldjflkdjflK NO but mostly because im terrible at keeping up with whats actually ongoing and upcoming. i dont know shit about fuck unless kon is there, at which point i do pay attention (so like, i DID know about smot and kept up with dates there) (and now i'm back to living under a rock). except that i also generally don't like a lot of postflashpoint takes on characters i liked preflashpoint, so i never really look forward to those without a degree of trepidation. (for example. stares at the lex luthor psychic bomb retcon. what the fuck is that.)

um... are there any upcoming cool minis like city boy and spirit world with new characters?? thats mostly the kind of thing i'm enjoying as far as modern comics go!!! so... if there's anything of that sort. that'll be what i'm looking forward to skjdhfjkds but honestly i don't know!!

[darkwingphoenix]

@loominggaia Memes, Fresh!

Skylie complaining about annoying clients (She takes up mech/robot/techie making for the fun of it)

A song Skylie made as an homage to monsters

Gaians after like 3 days

Sai playing with Maia (She was a chubby baby, also a yeller)

A shared experience between peoples: All babies shut up when cheese to thrown at their head

Transmasc mermen be like

Skylie, Saraia, Darshaan, and Barus when the Formation happened (Barus was in Evangeline)

Fae at the Matuzu-Etios border:

Skylie with Darshaan, Saraia, and Barus (Darshaan goofy slapped her)

Saraia for no reason

Skylie making historical games with a fantasy option (Read: IRL Earth as a fictional setting, everything is accurate to IRL history where possible)(She made CK3, heavily modded Civ 6, ARA: History Untold, Humankind, Millennia, , Memoria Polis, and Ancestors: A Humankind Odyssey, and is working on Civ VII, which will be called Civ II here as she only made Civ VI)

Skylie being a technician, game programmer, popstar, author, general, mom of like 90 kids, and caring for her family:

Skylie test-running her headphones (The cord won't fucking work unless she got herself into a hands-over-head shibari position)(Saraia walked in right as Skylie got stuck in the self-shibari)

Gorgon Pole Dancers Be Like

Darshaan taking care of some wasps

Nymphs introducing money to peoples

Skylie as a fully matured adult (It's happening during my AU, but it's just unmentioned)

Darshaan getting roasted by a video of a Zareen nut factory

Gaia to divines (She's ridding them of their fertility):

Evangelites, Folkvarans, and Damiscendii when they stub their toes

Early peoples in Wokina when encountering gorgons

Tyger mocking setsiki be like

Cobalt to Teal be like (He used a cast iron pan)

Darshaan using galemancy to steal people's wigs:

A pixie farting so hard he flew off

Skylie seeing Angie and Cyana doing that dance while Angie's pregnant with Alani

Cyana and Angie 0.1 nanoseconds after Cyana grew a girldick thanks to Skylie giving her a potion (It's singing that Symphony meme song while Angie's insides are glowing RGB)

Saraia to Skylie once they start actually dating

Skylie when she saw a monkey in a Zareen car

Columbina when she tries walking Rook

Cyana when Angie is going cowgirl on her RGB girldick

Skylie at a Zareen popstar's concert (She's viscerally disgusted)

Darshaan to a person he knows is a Crescent Cultist when Jaq and Skylie are Cult Hunting (Skylie RIGHT HOOKED her ass)

Skylie joking with her fans

Saraia when drunk:

A kobold in the Ascendance Grand Orchestra

What I imagine a moment in the divine respawn chamber be like

Skylie to Bozzag

Skylie, Saraia, Darshaan, and Vex as a divine party of heroes

Skylie when Saraia cooks a peryton

Off days for various peoples of various Great Kingdoms

The music played in all Ascendii barracks

A Saraia Divine Cult thing

Rook when Skylie is in a building and needs to to stay outside, but then some locals interact with her

Skylie riding Rook (Except Rook is as tall as a massive draft horse):

Skylie learning to drive from Karkal (She hasn't become a technician yet)(She actually thought you say it like PRNDL)

Skylie in the Ascendance High Palace (When fully completed, it has MASSIVE open areas, where she blasts music and it echoes out the palace)

Skylie when she was temporarily cursed to feel stuff randomly

This lady in these scenarios (In the middle of Drifter's Hollow, an Ascendii rave, the size of a gnome in Skylie's hands, accidentally grabbing Justinia's shoulder boulders, being spooked by a dryad, and a peryton eating an elf's balls)

Vex, Darshaan, Saraia, and Skylie in this pose

Skylie reacting to various people's fictional villains

Skylie's song dedicated to Cyangeline (She's gonna immortalize they were lesbians)

Darshaan and Skylie wearing this dress

[cbairdash]

Author’s note: Hoist the Colors may eventually inspire fiction. Most likely will and I’ll gladly write it. But right now, it’s a role-playing game setting with what I hope is an interesting take and look at an “Alternate History” of Earth. It isn’t really “steampunk”, though I can see how someone would get that impression. For me, it’s more a “flintlock fantasy” set on Earth of 1722 in all it’s historical mess… that I’ve stirred up even more!

So, with that said, this time we get into one of the many locations in Hoist the Colors. The Caribbean, but maybe not as you know it!

Hoist the Colors: The Caribbean

It’s the crossroads of the world. Those islands are rich with history and hope for a fresh start. But behind all that lurks monsters of our own making…

- Helena Barrow, Captain of the Horizon’s Rose

The Caribbean. A wide archipelago made up of the Caribbean Sea with its collection of islands and island chains. It’s a tropical region between North and South America, known for its diverse cultures, settlements, trade, and a storied, bloody history. The region has always been home to one culture or another for over 7000 years. 

It has been witness to, and withstood, invasions from Europe, trade wars of conquest, plagues, bloody pirate rampages, and a worldwide cataclysm. Specifically, the event called Crossing’s Fall that shoved the region and its inhabitants into the world’s view. 

At midnight on October 31, 1712, the mysterious events of Crossing’s Fall changed the world. Warped it with shattered fragments of Otherworld appearing and melding with Earth. Near mythical animals appeared around the globe along with refugees from Otherworld. The landscape changed as well. In some places, it was dramatic, but in others, subtle. In the case of the Caribbean, it was more the former instead of the latter.

Changed Lands

Like elsewhere on Earth, the land itself had changed. Fragments of Otherworld became new mountains or foothills in places like Cuba, Jamaica, or Puerto Rico. Rocky islands rose along the coastlines of South America, New Spain, and Florida. The Bahamas, an island chain of scattered small islands, became even more fragmented, and dangerous, with primeval jungles having overrun the more remote ones. 

Across those islands are towns and cities nestled in those dangerous jungles. Ports of call for ships from around the world from Europe, Americas, Japan, China, and beyond. Not to mention local ships such as pirates prowling the waves for a fresh kill. Deeper inland, lost Earth cities are mixed with Otherworld ruins, from ancient stone forts to lost tombs and forgotten libraries. Riches and relics wrapped in fog-shrouded mystery or lethal curses. 

But the most remarkable change was not on land, but in the water. Sirens and other threats joined sharks and other perils already there. Then, across the Caribbean expanse, there was the appearance of the mysterious Arcane Gates. Those alone changed everything.

Riddle of the Gates

The gates appeared for a moment at the stroke of midnight, October 31, 1712, in flashes of emerald lightning. It was dozens of Arcane Gates across the Caribbean, each with their own unique knotwork and mysterious lettering. Then, as quick as they appeared, they vanished. But they weren’t gone. 

As learned in later years, the Arcane Gates had gone ‘dormant’. Waiting to be sensed by a Wavebinder, Navigator, or anyone trained in the Etherwave Arcana. Later, Maria Fairbain, a Sunweaver thayan and seasoned Wavebinder relic hunter, ‘discovered’ the first of many Arcane Gates in the Caribbean. It lay in the middle of the sea between Puerto Rico and Hispanola islands and wasn’t alone.

To date, Navigators and Wavebinders have discovered more Arcane Gates in the Caribbean region that exist anywhere else in the world. No one understands why and the Gates gave no clue. But dozens of Arcane Gates were enough to upset the balance of trade and power around the world. Which was already overturned by the change to the lands, people, and a flood of the Etherwave Arcana into the world. 

For the rest about the Caribbean in Hoist the Colors, see the link above!

Taglist: @thelaughingstag

[maypoleman1]

20th December

Carol Singing

Source: Alive Network website

‘Tis the season for carol-singing. As illustrated in the entries from last late spring/early summer, carols were not always restricted to Christmas. Originally a carol was simply a song with a refrain, sung in unison to a round dance and could accompany any merry-making event. Over the years they have become associated almost entirely with the Christmas season, and usually have a religious theme. The heyday of carol writing was the nineteenth century when Victorian churchmen or their wives would write songs to celebrate the Nativity to be sung by their congregations and choirs. However, carolling has a long history and the in pre-Civil War Middle Ages, after which so many were banned by the victorious Puritans, carols often had interesting, and slightly heretical, subject matter.

In the Cherry Tree Carol, a disgruntled Joseph refuses to pick cherries for his craving-possessed wife, advising Mary to get the father of her child to pick her the berries. The infant Jesus in his mother’s womb orders the cherry trees to bow to Mary so she can easily pick the fruit. The child - still in utero - then tells an awed Joseph the date of his coming birth - the 6th January! In The Bitter Withy, a resentful young Jesus, spurned by his rich friends as an impoverished Jew, creates a bridge across a river with sunbeams and runs across. His playmates follow, only for the beams to melt away, leading to the children to drown in the waters beneath. When their outraged parents complain to Mary, she puts her son across her knee and wallops his backside with a bundle of withies from a willow tree as punishment, leading the infuriated and tearful Jesus to curse the willow and condemn it to be the first tree to perish from the earth, which may account for the tree’s sinister reputation in folklore.

Many of the medieval carols have been resurrected by modern folk artists and delight again with their strange non-Biblical stories of the infant Jesus.

[eviesaurusrex]

When a man annoys a woman... | S. Strange

Stephen Strange x f!Reader

ask: Reader and Stephen are always competing? What happens when Wong decides to set them up on a blind date to confess to each other? Like everyone knows they actually like each other when they say they hate each other. Fluff plz.

word count: 3k (I really had fun writing this one, okay???)

warnings: bickering, cursing, insulting idiots, two idiots deeply in love but in huge denying, so much fluff

author's note: Thank you so much for this wonderful first ask @stygianoir and sorry for the wait, but I really wanted to try my best because I had so much fun. And I hope I got it right and just how you wanted <3

“Would you please just shut up?!”

“Now, that’s not very polite.”

“I said please! I can show you how impoliteness sounds, douchebag!”

The bickering never stopped, not since Stephen Strange had set foot into Kamar-Taj and had been greeted by a fiery and outrageously infuriating woman. Peace and quietness weren’t an option since that day, especially because the two brawlers seemingly always had to share their assigned tasks. It almost seemed as if the Ancient One wanted to bring peace to the two people who couldn’t stand each other with force.

“You hurt me with that, [Y/N]. You really, really hurt me. I think an apology would be appropriate.” Stephen’s mocking voice, laced with fake offense, carried through the entire inner courtyard. Lowering her training staff, the woman threw him a look full of annoyance and showed him one of her middle fingers – a daily occurrence by now. “I can shove the apology up your arse if you like, Strange. It may cure your severe case of douchebag-ness.”

Internally fuming, [Y/N] returned her attention back to today’s training partner – a young woman who looked questioning from one master to another. “We… I mean… We can continue tomorrow, if you’re occupied, Master [Y/N],” she almost whispered, too intimidated by the bickering of the two older people. She furrowed her brows. “Yeah, we… we can continue tomorrow. Spend some time in the library to keep up with your reading, Leila.”

Stephen’s suppressed laughter broke out of him as soon as her student left the courtyard and the two masters were left behind. Alone. Never a good idea. Turning around, [Y/N] raised the staff in her hand and poked him in the chest after several steps in his direction.

“I never saw a worst failing teacher,” he still laughed, almost couldn’t breathe because of it. She clenched her jaw and tried really hard not to jump at his throat to finally relieve earth – and herself – from his pestering existence. But she was the more composed within this duo they involuntarily formed. Well, she tried, at least. “Says the person who can’t seem to be bothered to teach at all. I think that qualifies you automatically for the trophy of The Worst Teacher in the entire History of Teaching, don’t you think?” [Y/N] countered and turned around to distance herself from this nerve-racking situation.

She always tried to be reasonable with him, to leave the situation so the world around them wouldn’t burn to the ground, and to give him a chance to clear his head before saying something stupid.

Wong noticed it. The Ancient One noticed it. Almost everyone around them noticed her attempts – everyone, except for Stephen.

And he always made it even worse, like now.

He had grabbed a staff himself while following her over the cobbled courtyard. “I have more important things on my agenda than teaching, you know that.” Scoffing, the still fuming woman spun around and hit his staff with her own. “Oh, yeah? Like what? Pestering me with your entitled bullshit? Gracing planet earth and its population with your obnoxious presence nobody asked for? That’s your important agenda? I am laughing.” He cocked his head slightly to one side and observed her face intently. “I don’t see or hear you laughing.”

And this man was supposed to be one of the greatest minds of their time?!

“Oh no, the great Stephen Strange don’t get sarcasm? Quick, somebody needs to tell the Time Magazine!” Another hit of her staff, but this time, the man tried to hit her back. Sadly, she saw it coming and stepped aside. “It’s still Doctor Stephen Strange,” he complained before they both engaged in an attack stance. “And still, you’re too fucking slow, you whining child.”

The crashing sound of the wooden staffs echoed over the courtyard while both masters insulted each other with labored breaths. Wong had returned from one of his missions and accompanied the Ancient One into the yard to watch the unusual pair fight.

“Do you think it is wise to force them to work together?” Wong asked the bald woman next to him, his focus still trained on the fighting man and woman. “Do you have another option in mind, Master Wong?” The Ancient One asked him with curiosity in her voice, and the sorcerer tilted his head from one side to the other, pondering if he might share his observations, the Ancient One probably already knew about.

But before he could answer her, the fight was over, and he watched the scene unfold with a very pleased expression spreading over his face.

Heavily breathing, [Y/N] tried to escape his grasp a second time, but Stephen finally had learned something and held her even closer. His scarred fingers were securely wrapped around her wrist, her arm crossed over her chest, and caught the other one effectively. Her back was firmly pressed against his chest, and Stephen had to bend down to whisper in her ear.

“I won.”

Struggling against his tight but not harmful grasp, [Y/N] turned her head to look him right in the eyes. She was surprised by how close his face was and how warm his breath felt on her heated skin. If she wanted, she could count his eyelashes or examine the specks in his eyes she had never noticed before. They both froze in their spot, and [Y/N] could feel his rapid heartbeat at her back.

“Beginners luck. I’m still much better than you, idiot,” she mumbled, and Stephen hummed lowly. “Mhm, of course you are.” [Y/N] still stared into his eyes but pulled herself back into reality – remembered herself what she felt in his presence and ignored the heart in her chest, which flattered nervously at his touch.

Nope, not happening. I hate him.

“Let me go, you obnoxiously huge imbecile.” He cocked an eyebrow and looked over her face, seemingly absorbing every detail there was to find and to explore because Stephen knew that they would never be this close again. “As you please.” As he whispered, he bent down a little more to brush the tip of his nose softly, barely perceptible for her, over her hair, and for a second, he closed his eyes.

He really loved the scent of her hair. It put him at ease. And he hated every single minute of it.

And with that, he slowly, almost reluctantly, released her from his grasp. As soon as [Y/N] was free, she spun around, and with both hands against his chest, she shoved him a few inches away.

“I fucking hate you, Stephen Strange. Don’t you dare touch me ever again, come near me, or try to prove something. I’m sick of your entitled prancing.”

[Y/N] stomped away, fully aware of the pain in her chest but stubbornly ignoring it. It wasn’t worth it because he never would like – or love – a human being other than him. It was his curse – and her curse to kind of fall for the self-loving douchebag.

Nope. I’m not falling for him, nor did I ever fall for him. Shut up, stupid hormones.

Meanwhile, Wong nodded, satisfied, and turned to the Ancient One. “I may have an idea to propose.”

It was odd that Wong invited her for dinner. A dinner outside Kamar-Taj, in an actual restaurant. All of it screamed suspicious, but [Y/N] didn’t think further about it or – if she would have thought about it in more detail – just stayed at home entirely.

Maybe he is lonely and needs some company. A change of routine, to see something else, and to have some fun.

She didn’t mind keeping him company because she loved Wong – everyone did. A bit uptight when it came to rules and his library, but overall an individual with whom one spends their time voluntarily.

Unlike another individual.

Sighing at that thought, [Y/N] pulled at the door handle to enter the mentioned restaurant. The smell hitting her nose was delicious, and with a growling stomach, she closed her eyes for a second to bathe in the different scents of different herbs and oils.

This was undoubtedly no fast-food diner where one could get an enormous milkshake with a donut on it. Gladly, [Y/N] had dressed in one of her more casual, but nevertheless chick outfits she owned. It was time to finally get it out of the wardrobe again, anyway.

With searching eyes, the woman tried to spot Wong in the busy place, but his distinctive face wasn’t one to find. She checked the watch at her wrist to see if she was an unhealthy amount too early, but she was right on time – only a few minutes earlier than agreed on. Urgh, was all she could think at that moment, and her anxiety started to rise. But before it arrived this week’s peak, an almost hardly noticeable glittering portal opened out of which a hand appeared. It formed into a direction pointing finger, and [Y/N] tried to find the table on which the magical finger pointed.

Ever since putting the first step into Kamar-Taj and witnessing what else was possible, she stopped asking questions in moments like these. A magical version of Google Maps? Everyday life. Nothing to fuss about.

Another sigh left the woman, and she started to move herself in the shown direction. Halfway through the restaurant – and small smiles to each and every waiter or waitress – another portal opened to point to a table in a cozy corner between a giant plant and the windows looking out onto the nightly busy streets of New York City.

“Well, thank you hand, but…”

[Y/N] stopped mid-sentence because her eyes fell onto a very specific sorcerer with dark hair and greying sides clad in a perfectly fitting suit. Her breath caught in her throat, but an annoying feeling soon took over the reins. With furrowed brows, she stopped next to the table.

“Finally, you kept me a bit waiting, Wo-“

He looked up and straight into her eyes. “[Y/N]? What are you doing here?” She scoffed. “I could ask you the same. I was supposed to meet with-…” – “Wong.” She nodded, surprised, and looked around the restaurant, confused by the unexpected situation. “But…,” she started before her hand collided with her face, and her finger pinched the bridge of her nose. Stephen seemingly caught up to her train of thought and looked incredulous from the menu up to the woman and around the restaurant.

“Wong.”

They both spoke in unison before, again, a portal appeared and showed them a thumb up. [Y/N] lowered herself a bit to look through it but couldn’t grasp the sight of a face or body. “If I ever get my hands on you, Wong, you will wish for your last day on earth.” Fiery eyes threw another exasperated look through the portal before straightening herself up again.

Stephen stared at her, and she sighed, deeply annoyed. “Okay, what’s wrong now? Do I have something in my face? Oh, wait. Don’t answer that. I’m not interested in your mockery.” And with that, [Y/N] started to turn around to leave this damn place, conjure a portal outside the restaurant, get back to Kamar-Taj, and read a good book. But a warm, slightly shaking hand grasped her wrist and pulled softly at it to get the woman to turn around.

Shockingly, the sorcerer didn’t have the expected mocking expression on his face. Instead, she witnessed probably the first attempt at a genuine smile on his face. “Don’t go. Please. Your stomach’s growling is so loud that people in Australia could hear it.” Lifting an eyebrow, [Y/N] looked down at him. “That’s your attempt of trying to change my mind?” A panicked expression moved across his face and while he tried to find other words, the woman started to laugh softly and removed her wrist out of his grasp to sit in the chair opposite of him. “Don’t freak out, Strange. I was just teasing you because I’m actually starving.”

She took the second menu to skim over it but stopped soon enough because she could see him staring. Peeking over the edge of the menu, [Y/N] looked at him, questioning, and Stephen cleared his throat. “I… uhm… Never mind,” he stuttered over his own words and tongue.

The woman felt a low heat rising up her cheeks before turning back to the menu. “Sweet,” she whispered, but the sorcerer heard it anyway. “You look beautiful tonight. Actually, you always look beautiful, whatever you’re wearing. Always. I… I should just stop, shouldn’t I?” Grinning, [Y/N] put the card down, intertwined her fingers, and propped her chin upon them. “No, no. Please, continue.” She couldn’t stop the smile on her lips.

He rubbed over his beard almost shyly, adjusted his tie, smoothed out the white cotton tablecloth, anything really, to avoid looking at her. It was adorable. It flattered her. Her heart skipped several beats at once before hammering rapidly inside her chest. It was frustrating – but beautiful. And so incomprehensible pure. It was a new side of Stephen she never expected to get to know - well, she never expected it to exist in the first place.

A waiter appeared and saved Stephen from the situation. “Could we get a bottle of… White or red, darling?” The term slipped out of his mouth before the Strange could stop himself. Fiery red cheeks were the first answer before [Y/N] looked up to the waiter. “White, please. I think I saw a Californian on your menu? The 2009 one?” The man nodded before leaving the two to themselves again, and Stephen shook his head slowly and in utter disbelief. “You are a wine connoisseur?” Grinning, she shrugged softly, chin still propped up on her fingers. “There are many things you don’t know about me, Doctor Stephen Strange.”

The sorcerer leaned forward, raised a hand, and pushed one of her escaped locks out of her face and behind her ear. “It’s Stephen for you, and I can’t wait to know all of them,” he spoke with a new emotion laced within his tone, and [Y/N] almost melted at that. A soft and tender expression settled in her eyes and on her face. “Well, if things are how I see them, we have all night, Stephen.”

Soft laughter filled Kamar-Taj as soon as a portal opened to let two people through before it closed itself again. Wong, still awake and inside the library, perked up at the sound and slowly walked to the entrance to his sacred halls. From there, he could see Strange and [Y/L/N] walking side by side, her hand laced through his arm and his hand protectively wrapped around it.

They stopped in the archway, facing each other, and Stephen softly cupped her face, his long fingers pushed in her soft hair. “I hate to admit it, but my mom was right – again,” [Y/N] softly grinned but groaned, leaning her cheek into his warm touch. “With what?” Stephen was curious. She chuckled at the memory of her mother telling her elementary school self a secret about boys and their odd behavior. “Well, if a boy pesters a girl, mocks her constantly, and all the fun stuff that comes with that, he secretly likes her. I’m happy you didn’t pull at my braids.”

The sorcerer shrugged, almost helpless. “I was stupid, I admit that. But nothing more,” he almost exclaims, but [Y/N] laced one hand around his neck to push him down onto her level while the other hand grasped his tie to pull softly at it simultaneously. “Just shut up and kiss me already,” the woman whispered close to his lips, and Stephen let go of her face to snake his arms around her waist, pulling her flush to his chest. “Finally.” It was nothing more than a deeply relieved sigh before Stephen dived straight into the kiss.

His lips were softer than expected, and they moved together as if they had kissed several times before – as if they were familiar with one another. Stephen pulled her even closer as his fingers brushed up her spine to cup the back of her head. Softly sighing, [Y/N] buried her finger in his dark strands and angled her head slightly to deepen the kiss before pulling away. Labored breaths were shared in the little space between their faces they granted each other, not ready to move further away from one another.

Scarred fingers stroked lovingly over a heated cheek before cupping her jawline. [Y/N] smiled with closed eyes and softly rubbed her nose against his. She just had to kiss him again – so that’s what she did. It was a quick kiss, almost only a brush of lips against lips, but it was enough – for now.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Stephen asked in a whisper, and the woman slightly shrugged. “Because I don’t have to beat up Wong for tricking me into this situation anymore, I have a lot of free, unoccupied time. You?” The sorceress raised a brow at his thoughtful expression. “I thought about snatching you away for a properly planned date.” It was almost a shock, but why wouldn’t he ask her after the past few hours? Her brain couldn’t think straight anymore, not with him so close to her and his fresh scent invading all her senses. “What do you have in mind, Doctor Strange?” He smiled the brightest smile [Y/N] had ever seen on a human being. “It’s a surprise.”

Now raising both eyebrows, she tilted her head. “You don’t have a plan yet, haven’t you? Not the slightest idea,” she teased him, but she hit the mark perfectly – and she knew that before. “You know me too well, Miss [Y/L/N].” A chuckle left him before tilting her face in a different direction to kiss her again.

Softly. Slowly. Like he adored her more than anything else on this vast planet. And if someone would ask Stephen that question, he would answer precisely this.

Wong, who had left the two lovebirds long before their first kiss had ended, walked with a very pleased smirk on his face through the hallway, excited for the new order within these halls – with much less screaming and shouting. Still, he knew one thing: The bickering and insulting of one another would remain the same.

Comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated! Lots of love and thanks for reading! If you want to join the taglist, please reach out and let me know!

[iguana-eyanna]

Make My Own Decisions

Pairing: Lewis Capaldi x Horan! Reader

Summary: Before you and Lewis make your relationship public, there's one person that you have to tell first: your brother, Niall Horan.

Warning: cursing, slight violence, mentions of alcohol

You were packing your things for a short trip back home to be with your family. Nonetheless, you were happy to finally catch up with your brother, Niall, who has been traveling for work. You both tried to catch up as much as you can, but you haven't disclosed about your relationship with his close friend, Lewis Capaldi.

When Niall introduced you to each other at an award show, Lewis forgot to breathe. He thought you were the most beautiful girl on earth. He wanted to date you right from the start, but Niall always told his friends that his baby sister was hands off.

Lewis decided right then and there that you were just a crush, but you were also having the same feelings for him. You wrote your phone number on a napkin and slipped it to him discreetly that night. From there, the rest was history.

"He's going to kill me." a voice said out loud. You turn to your left and see your boyfriend leaning by the door frame of your shared bedroom.

"He won't, I'll make sure of it." You said casually as you zipped your luggage.

He groaned as he lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"I'm not joking, he's not going to like it when we tell him we've been dating for about a year, living-"

"in sin?" You ask, sarcastically.

He lifts himself up, showing you a serious face.

"Together." he corrects you.

Lew really looked up to Niall, he had so much experience with the world and often gave Lewis advice on music.

You felt a bit of pity so you crawled onto his lap, holding onto his shoulders as his hands fly to your waist.

"Knowing my brother, he will react like the drama king he is. But he knows deep down that I'm old enough to make my own decisions, especially when it centers on who I date. When mum told him that I was going to my first school dance with a boy, he left in the middle of his tour just to scare the boy off."

"That's not helping." Lewis said.

"What I'm trying to get at is... I'm not dating any other boy. I'm dating you, Lew. Niall knows what a great guy you are and that shouldn't change because you're dating me. So I'd say we just rip off the bandaid when we go to my mum's home."

Lewis smiles at you, hugging you closer.

"Alright then, to taking off the bandaid." He says.

You smile as you brush your fingers through his hair, about to lean in for a kiss.

"Pack up handsome, we got a flight to catch." You said, patting his shoulder as you were about to get off.

Lewis scoffs, then gives his mischievous grin.

"Oh, you're going to pay for that." He replies, grabbing you back with your waist you laughed out loud as he peppers kisses on your face.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You knock on the door, feeling excited for everyone's reaction. But Lewis looked pale, feeling like his heart was going to jump out of his chest.

"Are you sure now is a good time to tell them? I mean, we just got out of a plane and I reek like that baby that was sat next to us."

"Lew, we just talked about this. They'll be fine." you said as you can hear someone walking towards the door.

Once the door opens, you see your mum gleam.

"Oh! Dear, we were supposed to pick you up at the airport!" She said, hugging you.

"Wanted to beat you to it. If Niall was there, the whole airport will be bombarded with fans."

"I can't help that I'm ruggedly good-looking," Niall said as he greeted you at the door.

You roll your eyes.

"Still big headed as always." You said, giving him a hug.

"Gah, you're just jealous bug." He says, hugging you back.

"Bug?" Lewis asks out loud.

Niall looks up, surprised.

"Lewis? What are you doing here man?" He asks, letting you go.

"I.... I'm here cause-" Lewis trailed on his sentence as Niall was still lost of hwy his friend was present.

"-your sis saw me on the flight here and said I can stay at your place instead paying ridiculous amounts at a hotel."

Niall's face was still, but you were looking at your boyfriend in disbelief.

Your brother broke into a grin and hugged Lew.

"Of course, man! You're family, you're welcome anytime." He says.

Your mom tells him to help take the luggage inside and you and Lewis walk behind them. He can tell you're upset as you haven't spoken anything to him, not even batting an eyelash.

Later on, your family starts to eat around the dinner table, talking and laughing.

"I know I shouldn't pry, but have you've been seeing anyone lately?" Your mom asks you.

You smile bitterly as you take a sip of your wine.

"Yeah, I have. He's scared of going public cause he's scared of Niall." You said not so subtly.

Lewis almost chokes but tries to cough it off. Your family didn't notice it, but you knew you were trying to get a reaction out of him.

"Damn right he should, anyone dating my baby sis has to go through me." Niall said, stabbing his steak.

"No cursing at the table, Niall" Your mom warned.

"How about you Lewis, anyone to come home to?" Your mom asks.

"Yeah Lewis, anyone in particular?" You ask.

He knew he dig his grave deep, but his inner thoughts were rapidly flying in his mind.

"I do... she's um, not like any girl I've been with. She's not afraid of anything, always stands up to her morals. Between you and me, she's funnier than me."

The whole table laughs as you smile softly, still trying not to cave in.

"What we have is amazing, I'm just... scared that I'm going to mess up in front of her family when I formally introduce myself to them. They mean everything to her and if they don't like me... I feel that she'd walk away forever."

"Oh Lewis, if she loves you, she'll understand what you're going through. Love takes time, but you also need to find the confidence to let them know you'll be serious with her." your mom said.

Lewis shyly smiles from your mom's words and looked at you to see your reaction.

You give him a gaze, knowing that he's really trying to make it work.

After dinner, you volunteered to do the dishes and saw that Lewis was coming towards you. He grabs a towel and starts drying the dishes from the dish drainer.

"I'm sorry about tonight. I know you said to rip off the band-aid, but I want them to know me a bit better before they judge me cause I'm dating you."

You sigh, folding your lips in.

"I get it, I do... But they need to know sooner or later. I don't want them finding out if they walk on us kissing or read a tabloid. They deserve to know what a great guy I'm dating."

"I'm great?" He asks. You groan and elbow him on his side as you two finish cleaning. You turn to him with a serious look, pointing your finger at him.

"I don't care if Niall is your best friend or boy crush: you need to tell him the truth. Understood?"

"Understood." He says, crossing his heart. He envelops his arms around you and holds you tightly as he places his head in the crook of your neck as you two sway back and forth.

The next day, Niall invited Lewis to play a friendly soccer competition with some of your relatives. You were catching up with some cousins off the field and you smile at Lewis trying to keep up with Niall.

During a break, Niall and Lew practice kicking the ball at each other.

Lew turns around and sees how you're looking at him adoringly.

"You know, you still haven't mentioned why you're here visiting." Niall says, kicking the ball lightly.

Lewis turns to Niall like a deer in headlights and gulps.

"I'm trying to visit my girlfriend's family. They live near here."

"Oh yeah? Maybe I know her and her family."

"I wouldn't doubt that." Lew replied.

Niall looks over his shoulder and sees you looking a bit uneasy.

"I don't like this boyfriend situation my sis has gotten herself into." Niall says.

Lew could feel his face burning up.

"She's a grown woman, she knows how to handle herself." He said, kicking the ball a bit harshly.

"Yeah, but why is she keeping it a secret? Like last night was the first time I ever heard about this guy and he doesn't have the guts to give me a call."

"Well, maybe he's just waiting for the right time cause he knows how you're important to her so he doesn't want to make a mess of things."

"Why do you even care about this? How can this jackass show that he's worthy enough to date my sister?"

Niall kicked the ball too hard and hit Lewis in the crotch. Lewis immediately falls on the ground, hugging himself.

"I am worthy of her you jerk." He groaned.

"Lew!" You shouted across the field as you ran towards them. You kneel down to check Lewis, then turned to your brother as your eyes were daggers.

"What did you to my fucking boyfriend, Niall?" You asked hostily.

"Boyfriend?" He questions, looking back at you and Lewis.

Lewis tries scrambling up as Niall's eyes began to grow red.

"Niall bud, let's just talk this out." Lew said as he got up to his feet.

"You're the one who's dating my sister?" He yells, about to grab Lewis.

Lewis tries to deflect, but accidentally hits your brother in the nose as it starts to bleed.

"Oh no." Lewis whispers as he makes a run for it while Niall screams in anger, saying that he's going to kill him. You were standing there, feeling your blood boil as your boyfriend and brother are embarrassing you.

Once they near you, you were quick enough to grab them by the ears while they groan in pain.

"You two stop playing around like kids!" You yelled as you took them to the bench.

They both sat on the end, not daring to look at each other.

You go to the cooler and took out two cans of beer, giving one to Niall for his nose and the other to Lewis for his lap.

"Are you alright?" You ask softly to Lewis, holding the side of his face.

"You're seriously asking him that over your own brother?"

"You tried to kill him!" You reply.

"Of course I had to, he lied to me! How long have you guys even been dating for?"

Lewis replies back but he grumbles under his breath, not wanting to be heard.

You pinch the bridge of your nose as you spoke up for the both of you.

"We've been dating for a year now."

Niall thinks, doing the math in his head and looks at Lew.

"I told you not to even think of asking her out and you went behind my back?" Niall asks, hearing a bit of hurt in voice.

"Niall, I had enough." You raised your voice, not caring if half of your family was nearby.

"Let's make one thing clear: You have never been in charge of my dating life. I get to choose who I want to be with and I chose Lewis. I was the one that initiated it, he tried not to. But after talking, we knew we'd be perfect for each other. Other than not wanting the public to know our business, we both decided to keep things private until it became more serious. Lewis wanted to tell you as soon as possible, but he was scared you'll get yourself riled up and murder him on the spot."

Lewis gets up and holds your hand tightly, looking at Niall.

"Look man, I love your sister. I would never do anything to hurt her. She brings out the best in me and all I want to do is give her the fucking world. I'm sorry it took this long."

Niall could only look at you with no emotion.

"Are you happy?" He asks you.

You nod your head as you come closer to Lew, snuggling in his side.

"More than you know."

Niall gets up and looks at his best friend.

"You meant every word you said?" He asks Lewis.

"Yes. There's nothing in the world that would stop me from loving her, even you."

Niall sighs and looks down at the ground.

"I'm happy that you two are together. I'm sorry I've been acting like an idiot."

"Yeah, you were an idiot." You said, punching his arm softly.

Lew smiles and hugs your side. "Get in here, brother-in-law"

Niall face fell dead serious.

"Oh my gosh, just hug him" You ordered your brother.

He playfully rolls his eyes and joined in. After all of the awful antics, you and Lewis got to tell the world that you were together. Niall was happy for you two, as he now got to call Lewis his brother.

---

"Is this a bad time to ask for your blessing to propose?" Lew asks.

Niall looks at Lew. "Don't make me kick another ball to your-"

"Hey, he's trying to propose here." You said.

"You know, you two belong to each other. I have no say." Niall says, walking away.

"Wait, brotha!" Lew shouts, chasing after Niall.

"I'm around idiots." You said to yourself as you walked behind them as they were fighting again.

[tipsycad147]

Elder Futhark Runes: How to Read Runes for Divination

Some folks prefer Tarot. Some prefer Oracle. If you feel a connection to the Norse or Germanic tribes of the past, maybe it’s time you learn how to read the runes for divination purposes. Here we’ll dive into the Norse rune system: how to read runes plus the elder futhark runes meanings.

Ancient Origins of the Elder Futhark Runes

The Elder Futhark runes are an early writing system developed by the ancient Norse and Germanic tribes of Northern Europe. The Elder futhark system’s purpose was threefold: as an alphabet system, as representative of mundane issues of hearth and home, but perhaps more importantly the runes had (and have) sacred spiritual significance. There are preserved rune etchings dating to 2800 BC, Bronze Age Sweden. A few of the earliest rune markings include Ing(waz), Sowilo and Hagalaz among others not of the traditional Elder futhark. By the Medieval and Viking Age, newer rune systems were used everywhere from Norway to England by Scandinavian peoples, as well as the Anglo-Saxon.

The Elder Futhark Runes as a Divination Tool

We’ve mentioned the runes were used for various purposes, one being spiritual in significance. Spiritual leaders of a tribe, patriarchs and seers etched runes into stone and wood as a means of magically protecting, blessing, healing or cursing. Each rune held a sacred power and was therefore used as such. Volvas, or female seers, were known to cast runestones or staves onto water or earth and read the messages from the gods. It was common practice to consult the runes before battles and voyages. The practice of reading runes for divination purposes continued well into the Middle Ages, has survived despite religious and political agendas and is alive and well today. To read more about the history of the runes, click here.

Elder Futhark Runes Meanings

The Elder Futhark rune system is the “original” system, so to speak, and consists of 24 symbols total. Depending on the rune set you purchase, you may see variations in certain runic symbols. For instance, Ing may sometimes be Ingwaz and instead of being a simple diamond shape, may include “arms” reaching above and “legs” below it. Also remember, each rune has a “mundane” meaning that may also apply to its divinatory significance, but inevitably YOU determine the true message behind each. You’ll also find the longer you read the runes, the more complex they become. And the more personality they reveal to you. The wisdom of the runes is a deep, endless well.

For all intents and purposes, we provide the basic Elder futhark runes meanings here for you. Then we’ll discuss how to read runes for divination purposes below.

Fehu: Cattle, Finances, Abundance (F)

Uruz: Aurochs (Extinct Oxen), Strength, Overcoming Obstacles (U)

Thurisaz: Hammer of Thor, Thorn, Thunder God, Protection (Th)

Ansuz: Odin, Voice of God, Universal Voice (A)

Raido: Ride (Riding), Journey, Wheel of the Wagon (R)

Kenaz: Torch, Inner Fire, Creativity (K)

Gebo: Gift, Joy in Union, Marriage, Blessing (G)

Wunjo: Personal Joy, Self Fulfillment, Career Success, Tribal Banner (W)

Hagalaz: Hail or Ice Seed, Abrupt Change that Brings Transformation (H)

Naudiz: Need, Fulfilling One’s Own Needs (N)

Isa: Ice, Pause, Rest and Regeneration (I)

Jera: the Harvest, Earthly Results of Labor (J)

Eiwaz: Yew Tree (Of Life and Death), Wisdom, Pillar (E, Eh, Ey)

Perthro: Gambling Cup, “Roll of the Dice”, Luck (P)

Algiz: Elk Horn or Eel Grass, Overcoming Obstacles, Resolution (Z)

Sowilo: the Sun, Sun Wheel, Health, Vitality, Opportunity (S)

Tiwaz: Tyr, Justice, Truth (T)

Berkano: Birch Tree, Mother Goddess, Renewal, Motherhood (B)

Ehwaz: Horse, Partnership/Joint Ventures, Trust (Eh)

Mannaz: Mankind, Humanity, Awareness, Collective Conscious (M)

Laguz: Lake, Water, the Sea, Flow (L)

Ing (Ingwaz): Fertility, Fertility God, Virility, Sex Magic, Love (-Ing)

Othala: Inheritance, Home and Hearth, Stability, Ancestors (O)

Dagaz: Dawn, Day, New Opportunity (D)

If you purchase a set of runestones or staves, there will sometimes be a blank stone/stave. This is called “wyrd” and in it’s simplest explanation means “fate”. It’s up to you to interpret this blank stone or to leave it up to the gods.

How to Read Runes for Divination Purposes: How to Cast and Interpret

As you learn how to read the runes for divination purposes, you’ll develop your own style. There’s truly a limitless number of ways to cast and interpret the Elder Futhark. Traditionally one is to cast runes on a white rune cloth; however, I don’t use a rune cloth at all. Instead I cast my runes on a wooden table or directly onto the ground. It’s ultimately up to you! Some volvas and Norse seers even cast their staves on water.

Simple Rune Reading: Pick a Rune

The simplest way to draw a rune is by pulling one out of the bag and reading it. You can ask a question beforehand OR allow the runes to speak for themselves. For example, if you pull Ansuz (as shown below), you might interpret this as an encouraging message from Odin. Or maybe he’s telling you to speak up for yourself in a tough situation, etc.

The “Cast 3 Runes” Reading Method

A more traditional version of casting and reading runes would be to pull three from your bag, then cast them onto your cloth or preferred surface. Again, you may have a question in mind or simply allow the runes to speak. Sometimes they’ll all fall facing up, sometimes they’ll all fall facing down or another variation. You might interpret the runes that fall facing up as the more pressing matters and the ones face down as not so pressing. Alternatively, runes facing up are positive outcomes and runes facing down are setbacks. This takes time and practice and you may switch your preference based on the reading or question at hand.

In addition, you may wish to read the direction of the runes as significant. For example, if Berkano falls face up pointing to the North, this might be a message from the Mother Goddess to focus your attention on family matters. Isa facing east might mean to cease communication with a disgruntled employee. Othala in the North means financial stability and happiness is around the corner. You get the point.

More Complicated Rune Readings

My suggestion is to start off learning how to read the runes with one rune at a time. Then try the 3 rune casting method. Once you have a good understanding of the Elder futhark runes meanings, you can move to more complicated readings with 5, 7, or 9 runes or more.

Be Patient and Submerge Yourself in the Runes

Before I ever learned how to read the runes as divination, I submerged myself in the history and lore of the Elder futhark. Each rune seems to have its own consciousness, it’s own soul. And each rune has a sacred message for each of us that changes depending on the person and situation. We should allow the runes to speak to us before imprinting our own meanings on them. Be patient when learning the runes. Take your time and truly allow each symbol to become a part of you.

https://otherworldlyoracle.com/elder-futhark-how-to-read-runes/

[literaila]

If you’re still doing requests, what about a loki x reader where he plans a date around asgard? Pure fluff as he tries to impress reader

a perfect sort of different 

loki x gn!reader 

a/n: went with more of a “loki moments” type thing but. it was very fun to daydream..sooo.

*

the pure rush of colors was magnificent.

it felt like so many things, so many bright lights flying past you at once, so many seconds condensed into not even one, and so many smiles lived through the blur of everything.

you’d been worried about the Bifrost— loki spoke of it with a brilliant smile on his face, mischievous glint in his eyes. but now, seeing it for yourself, you understood that look.

and you felt a little dizzy.

loki is holding onto your arm when you regain composure and look around, you’re barely aware that he’s the only thing holding you up.

it’s different here, strange. your eyes are squinted, tired from all the colors but you still manage to look around.

strange.

“—darling?”

your head tilts to look at loki, whos staring at you with all the confusion of a mighty god. he must not even realize how disorienting the bifrost could be.

“yes?” you whisper, surprised by how your voice sounds. it’s different, strange, but feels smooth. you smile as you breathe out, enjoying this sensation.

loki looks amused when you meet his eyes again, and finally, he lets go of your arm, turning around.

your eyes drift past him, to the walls, the floor, the weird thing in the middle of the room, and finally, someone else.

you hadn’t even noticed the person standing there, proper-like, sword in hand. he’s staring at you, eyes a strong, strange type of gold. he doesn’t look unkind, but still, your smile is hesitant.

you wish there was a directory for this sort of thing.

“thank you, heimdall,” loki quips, not bothering to look over to the man, and walking past without a breath.

his strange tone of voice doesn’t escape your ears. you stare after him, his long immortal strides, noting the tension in his back.

“shall i let your father know that you’re here with— ahem —your guest?” the man, heimdall, calls after him even though he’s not that far away yet.

he’s not looking at you anymore, so he can’t see your confused face. you sense some tension.

loki spins around with a smile, too big to be real.

“better not,”

and then he’s walking again, leaving you behind, standing there looking all too small. accidentally— you hope.

you turn to the man with his beautiful gold eyes. he’s already looking at you, waiting for whatever he knows you’re about to say. your eyes dart to loki for a moment, meters ahead of you already, and you look at heimdall again with an apologetic face.

“thank you,” you say quickly with your strange chilled voice, and then, before he can respond, you’re running after loki.

he walks far faster than you do— curse his long legs — and it takes a moment to catch up. luckily, he stops when he notices you approaching.

his face is void of anything.

“bad blood?”

loki, stood in front of you, gives an unamused look at your words, then looks forward to the-

oh, wow.

if you’d thought the bifrost and the man were strange— this would be miles away. the sight in front of you has your jaw-dropping, your breath wavering off as you stare.

it’s bright, so bright, and gold gold gold. it looks like a place from a story, a fictional thing that people on earth could never dream of seeing. it’s so-

wow.

it would be embarrassing to burst into tears right here, wouldnt it?

loki seems to be thinking the same thing because he leans down to grab your hand, distracting you from your thoughts of sobbing.

“do you like it?” he wonders, nodding toward the castle, the gold, the colors. it’s all very overwhelming. beautiful.

“it’s very…” you cant stop staring, cant think long enough to finish.

your eyes are glued in front of you.

“very what?”

and to him.

his blue eyes are awaiting your response, and his hand soft and cold in yours.

“just very,” you whisper.

he rolls his eyes, breaking your lovestruck thoughts. bastard.

“that doesn’t make any sense, dear,” he chides, taking a few steps forward and pulling you with him. he ignores the scoff that follows his response.

you observe the sky, clearer than you’ve seen before, the mountains which you hadn’t expected, the buildings and the still-movement all of them are making.

it’s only takes a few more seconds for you to finally look down—

—and jump away from loki.

he’s looking over at you with curious eyes, wondering where you’ve gone, but you’re staring at the ground.

eyes wide, face shocked, wondering how in the nine realms you didn’t notice this earlier.

it’s a rainbow, yes, so how are you walking on it?

“am i going to die?” you blurt out, moving backward, not really looking where you’re going. all you know is that you need to get off this rainbow.

you cant believe loki wouldn’t have warned you before, cant believe that you’re still alive even now.

“darling-“ loki is calling, you don’t listen. “darling, darling—“ his voice gets louder, nearing you. “hey-“

he’s grabs your arm, pulling you to him, his breath against your face. his grip is stronger, but his voice is stronger “you’re only going to die if you fall off,”

it’s then you notice how close you were to the edge of the bridge.

oops.

you look up to loki, now rational enough to be still, and wince at his scowl. embarrassing mortal, you are.

“sorry,” you say and take a step back. the ground is firm beneath your feet. you probably should’ve noticed that before.

another eye roll.

okay, so maybe you definitely should’ve noticed that before. and— yup, loki is still glaring at you.

“i’m okay now,” you promise, smiling and taking a step closer to him. loki doesn’t relent, turning his head away.

you kiss his jaw anyway, loving the quirk of his lip you can just barely see out of the corner of your eye. he’s not a very sly god.

you peck up, until you can just barely meet the corner of his lips, and then he’s turning his head, meeting you halfway.

forgiven, then.

“you are absurd,” he says, his eyes so very kind, the antonym to his words. he runs two finger tips under your jaw and then looks away.

“sorry,” you repeat.

loki just laughs, moves the two of you closer to the middle of the ‘bridge’, giving you a pointed look. he’s never going to let that go.

then the two of you are walking, towards the castle, towards the gold, towards the beautiful place in front of you. you’re not sure how loki is so calm, how he can keep his eyes off of any of this for even a moment.

when you’ve almost reached the end, loki starts telling you about the bridge, about its prosperities, it’s history. he whispers things about the skyline in your ear and guides you toward the beautiful place.

it’s all very wonderful. peaceful, somehow, something you’d never thought you’d get to experience. especially not with him.

you’re almost there though, the buildings, the people, when you feel a cold blur cover you.

your clothes are gone, in their place, a blob of leather and cloth.

“loki,”

he doesn’t stop, moving ahead with your hand still in his. you notice his clothes, once a shirt and some jeans, now transformed into leather and more leather.

and… horns? gold horns?

appealing, yes. ridiculous, yes.

“your highness, almighty god, care to explain?”you call, after removing your hand from his, and crossing your arms. he’s not supposed to magic you without warning.

he doesn’t even attempt to look innocent, instead fiddling with the clothing at your waist— admiring it almost.

you huff.

“darling, you can’t except us to wear… that here, honestly. you’d be executed at the gate,” he waved a hand, completely ignoring your face.

dumb, cute, bastard god.

he tries to pull you again but you snap back. “nuh-uh, junior, you don’t make any sense,”

“i don’t make sense?” his amused eyebrow is not helping.

“explain,” you say, instead of elbowing him.

he sighs, throws his head back, rolls his eyes and looks up. all within two seconds. you might’ve appreciated it if he wasn’t being so convoluted.

he sighs again. “we’re trying not to draw any unwanted attention, darling, hence the clothes,”

you stare at him for a few moments, his impatient, ridiculous face.

and then “you’re literally wearing horns,”

“they’re comfortable,” he says, as if that’s any explanation at all.

“they’re horns,”

“custom fit” he says with a stupid prideful face. again, any other time it might’ve been endearing.

you look behind him, to the palace you cant wait to see, to the noises you can hear.

“…aren’t you like a prince here?”

“well, technically, darling-“

but you don’t let him finish, instead you take one step past him and interrupt. “also, you like— bask in attention all of the time. you practically live for it,” you continue to walk, expecting him to follow.

“i do not ba-“

“don’t try and deny it, loki, lying doesn’t look good on you.”

“i’m the god of lies,” loki huffs, and doesn’t utter another word. you’re sure he’s crossing his arms and pouting.

after a few moments of silence, you’re beginning to worry that you’ve actually hurt his feelings, but then he sighs again.

“shall i take them off?”

you roll your eyes at that, watching his hand go up to his head, stopping him with the gentle tap of yours

“no, love, then people won’t notice them,”

you walk forward, laughing to yourself when loki doesn’t follow. a part of you wants to look back to see the look on his face, but the other part doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

it doesn’t matter though because loki only pauses for a moment, and then he’s running to catch up to you and looking down upon you with a smirk.

“does that mean you like them, then?”

*

loki’s room is… unexpected.

you’d guessed about the rows of books, the dark colors, the large expanse of space. it wasn’t that hard to guess after you knew about his decorating skills.

but this… something about this is warm.

maybe it’s the large glass windows you hadn’t thought of, maybe it’s the light they bring in. maybe it’s the view of the bifrost, maybe it’s just some magic asgardian thing,

but still, you loved it from the moment you’d walked in.

it was him, you supposed, there wasnt much that could keep you from loving it. 

still, loki’s tour of the room (big, yet smaller than you’d thought it would be) was your favorite part. 

“this was my favorite dagger, before my mother gave me the one at home,” and “yes that is a trophy— no, darling, we dont need to talk about it-” and “you think thats funny but i spent most nights away from bed,” (you’d hit him for that one (( “sneaking!” he’d promised))  

it was wonderful to hear about his childhood, no matter the grey-tinted glasses he looked at it through. 

and now, standing at his library while he sits in the chair next to you, you cant stop smiling at the books you cant read. 

“whats this one?” 

“that one is illusion-casting,” he answers, and he has a book in his hand— another title you cant read —but the two of you both know that he hasnt looked away from you once. 

“i should burn it,” you mutter, familiar with the name and the magic. 

loki smirks, you refuse to look and see but he is, and sings out a quiet “ ‘fraid you’re a bit too late,” 

“this one?” you demand, voice louder now. you ignore the snake slithering over your finger tips. he won’t win that fast.  

“that one is a work of fiction,” he says, standing up to grab it from you. the snakes disappear in an instant. he flips it from the front to the back, studying it carefully. you’re sure you see him gulp before he says “its about frost giants.” 

you’re familiar with that name too. and you know, you would’ve been able to see it even if you didnt, that its a bad reminder for loki. something about it is causing that dullness in his eyes. 

“it is?” you whisper, moving closer to him to observe. you still cant read it, but something about the feel of his skin is comforting. 

“its asgardian, obviously,” he looks up, closed off face. “not very pleasant,” he whispers to you. 

his words send pricks down your heart. 

you’d known this would happen when he’d invited you, stuttered out his invitation with his silk voice. you had guessed that too— that asgard held bad memories for him. that there was a reason, before maybe, he hadn’t wanted to come back. 

until now, of course. he was excited to show you around. 

still, there must be something to get that look off of his face. 

you grab the book from his hands, placing it back on the shelf as carefully as possible. you move back, smile— slightly sad —on your face. loki is watching, but you’re not sure if hes really there. 

so, you move closer, grab his hands before stepping into his chest. 

you’re looking into his eyes when you ask “should i burn that one too?” 

and he doesn’t move. he doesn’t breathe in or out. he just stands for a moment.

but you can see it— the twitch of his nose, the subtle change in his eyes. you can see the life return to his brows, the colors flooding his cheek.

you don’t mention the blue, the tint, the composure he’d lost. you won’t speak of it until he does.

and then, within another moment, with one sharp inhale of breath, loki’s smiling.

and it’s wonderful, it’s amazing, and you’re quick to return it. you hope it’s your words, hope that loki can already hear the unspoken ‘i accept you’ you’re sending to him.

you hope just this once that he’s reading your mind, that he knows how highly you think of him.

it takes one more second for loki to grab at your waist, to stare at your lips until he cant take it anymore and he— gently —claws at your face.

his lips are yours and his hands are running across your skin, across the clothes he’s made for you, all over until you’re breathing once again.

you want to pull back and look at the color of his eyes, but you don’t want to move. you cant move away from him now.

with gasps of breath, warming hands, loving eyes you can see when loki finally does pull back, the two of you are smiling.

at least, right now, you’re enough to shove away the memories.

“yes, darling,” he whispers with his lips centimeters from yours. “you should burn them all,”

you laugh and loki groans into the next kiss. he’s fast and slow and hard and soft and pulling away…

“we should burn them all,” he corrects, eyes attached to yours.

you scoff though, instead of returning his lovely look, and move away. “i quite like the look of some of these,”

“you cant even read them,” loki complains, reminds you with a smirk.

you glare at him, pulling out another book. he’s right next to you, leaning against the shelf and watching you with observant eyes.

“doesn’t mean i’m going to burn them all just to feed your pyromaniac tendencies,”

loki laughs, maybe at you, maybe at your words.

but still, when you look over to him again, you can’t help but laugh back.

*

“…if i married you, would we share the title of ‘the god of mischief’?”

it was a serious question.

loki’s reaction was not helpful in the slightest.

he’s sitting next to you, laughing— cackling at your words.

the two of you have been leaning against the bookshelf for a while now, not noticing the time that’s passed while you discuss, talk and read.

well, loki reads, you listen.

you been enjoying the stories he tells you, both his and others, enjoying the way his mouth moves when he reads, the way his eyes flick up to yours every couple of moments. the smile that lights up his face after those few seconds of eye contact.

you enjoyed his bursts of energy, the moments when he’s reminded of something and so he pauses the story and tells you something else instead.

you’ve enjoyed all of these hours on the floor.

and no, you’re not exactly sure how the subject has come up, but still.

the scowl on your face is not playful.

“that’s not really how it works, darling,” loki says in between the laughs he still can’t seem to keep in.

he’s got a hold of your hand, and so, with the maturity of the adult you are, you snatch it back.

it’s only then that he looks up with betrayal in his eyes. his lips quirk at the look on your face moments after.

bastard.

“fine,” you say with practiced ease. “i didn’t want to marry you anyway,”

without another look at his face, you stand up, sore from sitting on the floor for so long and stretch.

loki is quick to follow, turning your head to make you look him in the eyes.

“pardon, darling?”

your smile is malicious. “you didn’t hear me?”

loki quirks an eyebrow at you and moves your head down only slightly. he moves his hand against your forehead.

“are you sick, my dear?” he asks with all the fake curiosity he can muster.

hey wait— where did he even learn that?

he laughs again when you force his hand away.

“you’re infuriating,” you say, glaring at him.

loki smiles, charming once again, and leans down. “i am the god of mischief-“

“heard that one before-“

“-and i will share that title with you, if you’d like.”

and then, he’s across the room before you even get the chance to make another comment.

god— he’s so beautiful when he’s laughing at you.

*

“what do you think?” he asks, playing with your wrist in his delicate hands, moving your hand to his liking.

it’s been a long day, you think.

“about what?” you whisper back, teasing that smooth sensation on your tongue, feeling the weight of your eyelids.

his bed is wonderful. soft, silky. and even if the scent is slightly different— you can still tell it’s him.

“me,” loki murmurs. “here, this place, my home.”

he’s giving you options, you know, and still. there’s only one real answer.

it’s all been very disorienting. from the very moment, you stepped foot here, from the moment loki asked you to come. it’s been fast, and slow, and a blur of everything.

every moment has been scattered with confusion, and while happiness, excitement, and curiosity lay beneath that— it’s still the biggest thing.

it’s so different here, so strange, so sweet. loki is different here too— someone you don’t know, but recognize so well.

there’s so much to mention and just not enough words.

so, you don’t know what to say when he asks.

loki seems to notice, he’s looking in your eyes which are cast off to the side, and he can see the hesitation.

“if it’s bad, i’m sure we can find a memory loss spell,” he says.

you laugh and he delights in the sound. he keeps going.

“or we can go back down to midgard, and you can tell everyone i kidnapped you, and then you’ll never have to see me again.”

“technically, you did,” you say, looking at him, watching his facial expressions.

he laughs. “i did,”

theres a moment after hes done speaking, pure silence.

loki gives you a minute to think, traces the skin under your eyes while he waits. hes been paitent-- uncharacteristic -- and you still dont know what to say. 

“i feel like i’m dreaming,” you blurt out, carefully watching for his reaction. 

he doesnt answer, doesnt meet your eyes, only hums. 

hes waiting for more you know. 

you sigh. “i’ve been worried that i havent woken up all day- that you’re upset because i stood you up, and missed out on all of this.” 

loki looks then, looks at you, looks closer. 

“this is all so surreal, loki, so different.” 

he smiles, and you’re not sure if its good or not. you’re both tired, you can tell, you’re both exhausted, you’re both drained from all the laughing, and you’re both so happy. 

or, you hope he is. you know you are. how could you not be? 

maybe you should tell him that, too. 

“a bad sort of different?” loki asks before you can speak again. hes moving up, lifting his head from your stomach and moving to meet you, to hold you. 

you’re smiling once again, a tired sort of smile. 

“nothing different about you is bad,” you tell him, you whisper into his mouth when you move up to kiss him. you wrap your hands in his hair, pull him as close as possible. 

its such a lazy kiss, but you cant help but think that its your favorite one of the day. you feel loki’s hand on your neck, feel him pull you in too. 

you match each other, in breath, in movements, in whispers between kisses, in softness and warmth. 

when you move back, when you look at him again, when your eyelids are falling but hes holding you up-- 

when you move back, you cant stop yourself from speaking again. “you dont think my different is bad, do you?” 

its sort of a rhetorical question, but maybe its not. loki is going to answer, either way, you know. 

“your different is perfect,” he confirms and pulls you in deeper once again. hes pulling you under the water, holding you up in the sky, making you feel so different here, so different in his bed, in his home, in his arms. 

a perfect sort of different, you know. now, and then and forever, maybe. 

“are you still dreaming?” loki asks when he pulls back. he says it like hes trying to prove to you that you arent. like hes trying to prove to you that this is real, that he is real. 

“maybe,” you answer back, close-lipped smile on your face. “but, you know.” 

loki stares, his head lifts up as he waits. 

...and then you dont say anything. you’re just breathing, matching his stare. 

“i don’t” he protests, a demand in its own way. softly, he kisses between your brows. 

you smile, softer at his touch. 

“i dont mind dreaming, as long as you’re here,” 

maybe its not the answer he was expecting, or maybe its shocking, because the look he gives you is not what you were expecting. 

you laugh and lay back against the pillows, knowing that he’ll follow, knowing that you’re both going to fall asleep like this and it’ll be perfectly okay. 

you’re supposed to stay here for a while anyway, today was just a start. 

loki, kisses you again, once more for now, desperate and hard and unlike the kisses from before. 

its a blur of colors before he lets you go again, a blur of hope and excitement and wonder and every emotion he lends you. 

you’re so tired, you know. 

he whispers something in your ear, says your name again, calls you ‘darling’ for the last time that day. 

it's a different kind of sleep. strange, shallow. in his arms, surrounded by these sheets that you’ve never felt before. surrounded by this place that you’ve never been. cuddled in the arms of someone you’ve always known. 

perfect. 

*

my masterlist here. 

[hawkland]

My (mostly) Destiel Recs, Round-up #6

Well, between working like crazy on my DCBB fic and GISH and injuring my neck last month I haven’t kept up with my rec posts, so this one is going to be LONG and have a LOT and I’m going to try to break it up into sections, from oldies but goodies (some things I found on very old rec lists) to smutty delights to just tasty little bits of fluff, hopefully there’s something or everyone here. Most of these are not super-long, largely in the 10-25k range, though there are a few beyond that. With all the stuff I’ve had going on I haven’t wanted to lose sleep diving into 100k epics (especially when I’m writing my own right now, lol.)

“Oldies” but Goodies:  Here are two great fics written some time way back when but that still definitely slap.

Theodicy by manic_intent (11k) - Probably the most brilliant Godstiel fic I’ve read to date. One of Cas’s first acts as the new god is to make a new archangel. Dean isn’t exactly on board with having his soul re-sculpted into wings he hates on sight (especially as they seem magnetically drawn to Cas), but he isn’t exactly given a choice. He, Sam and Bobby struggle with how to handle their former friend suddenly becoming a vindictive deity - trying to make plans to kill him if they must, which is pretty hard when it seems like Cas is always one step ahead of him. Can Dean hold on to enough of his humanity to provide a conscience to Cas and try to steer him toward good acts instead of destruction? This is one that I can’t say has a perfectly happy ending, but it’s a hopeful and imperfect one that’s just right for how the story plays out. 

My Eyes Are An Ocean by entanglednow (10k) - Season 5 AU where Dean averts the apocalypse through a spell that “powers up” all the angels and he sees Cas’s true form - before being rendered blind. Dean tries to adjust to his blindness, Cas tries to deal with his guilt, and it’s just a lovely little read with an ending that’s... *chef’s kiss*

Lots more recs below the cut:

More great reads from some of my favorite authors I’ve recced before:

The Cabin on the Lake by DeanRH (21k) - This may be my new favorite DeanRH fic...at least for the moment. The year is 2152, Sam and Dean are long gone to Heaven, while Cas - stuck somewhere between mortal and angel - remains on Earth keeping vigil, keeping up the hunt, assuming he’ll never see either Winchester ever again. But when he starts hearing things, and imagining Dean visiting him as an angel himself, he starts losing grip on what is and isn’t real, and whether he can trust anything he sees or believes to be the truth. This is one hell of a psychological rollercoaster that kept me guessing right along with Cas until the very end. It also has some super-creepy horror elements, a novel “monster of the week”, and the hot-as-sin smut scenes I always expect from this author.

X Marks the Scot by DeanRH (15.9k) A fun little romp through history in one of this author’s great not-quite-au fics. Crowley sends Dean and Sam back in history to the Scottish Highlands to stop a monster, and while there they meet a blue-eyed clan chief who makes Dean weak in the knees. There’s something familiar about him, too. a very clever au that ties back to canon for an unexpected fix-it. Also, Cas in a kilt. Enough said.

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon by DeanRH (12k) - Sweet and slightly angsty AU. What if Dean was a gardener in ancient Babylon when a strange dignitary came to warn that the tower under construction was to be destroyed by angels? Lush, romantic and sexy with some wonderful tie-ins to canon characterizations (of Dean, Sam, John and of course Cas).

sufficient for thee by angelfishofthelord (21k) - This is a beautiful Cas angst-fest and character study that reimagines how angel grace works, particularly in regards to healing others. It covers the whole of Cas’s arc from Season 4 through a post-series fix-it, is absolutely stunning and features some great world-building in regards to the angels. (One important TW: those with cutting/self-harm issues may wish to skip or at least proceed with caution). I love that I can always count on angelfishofthelord when I need a good dose of Cas!whump and pain.

And laugh at gilded butterflies by ireallydidthistomyself (13k) - another great Dadstiel fic from this author featuring one of my favorite angsty subjects! I don’t know how I missed reading this one before. An AU where Cas is raising (baby)Jack on his own until the angels find the two of them and prepare to seal Jack away in the Ma’lak box. Cas begs them to let him go with Jack, so at least Jack won’t be alone for eternity. Meanwhile Dean is frantically trying to find what happened to Cas, and he gets some unexpected help from Crowley.  It’s sad and sweet and all the characterizations are great. A+ Crowley use here, too.

what stays (and what fades away) by dothraki_shieldmaiden (64k) - a fabulous read with some great art, too, that started me reading a bunch of fic from this author. Cas goes missing, and when he’s found he seems deep under a spell. When they finally manage to awaken him, he doesn’t remember anything of this life with Dean, Sam and Cas in the bunker. The last thing he knew he was a nurse living with his wonderful husband, Dean, and their two adopted children, Jack and Claire. What I loved about this one was the clever twist as to who was behind Cas’s curse and also how well-developed his AU world/existence was. I’m not generally keen on mundane aus or the one-dimensional way a lot of djinn dream fics tend to go for them, but this one managed to capture a believable version of Dean and Cas living a “normal” life without monsters without making it sugary/too-sweet. 

before knowing remembers by dothraki_shieldmaiden (14k) Post 15x04, a wonderful fic that plays with some meta topics in a clever way. Dean and Sam are happy - they have free will and they’ve won against Chuck, even if they suffered some big losses along the way (including Jack). But Dean can’t help but think he’s forgetting something...or rather, someone. Yet every time he thinks he remembers, the name and face of that someone slips from his mind. 

weights on my ankles by dothraki_shieldmaiden (9k) Post-15x03 where Cas ends up going back to the Gas ‘n Sip and working with Nora after leaving the bunker. A bitter sweet divorce-arc AU and what I love the most is how it ends - not perfect, not tragic, just very real and believable. 

15x18 and Post-canon fix-it fics:

Orbital Velocity Around a Celestial Body by LeverDrift (26k) - An angsty but lovely fix-it fic, one where it gets worse for a while before it gets better. Dean pulls Cas from the Empty, where he’d been living in a fantasy world with a dream!Dean who was giving him everything real!Dean is certain he can’t. Dean has to struggle with wondering if Cas would have been better off with dream!Dean instead of him. This is one that will break your heart before putting it back together again as Dean struggles with his self-worth issues.

so good at crashing in by Wintertree (36k) - Another post-finale fix-it where Cas is back, the world is saved, and things are still...not as easy as it should be for either Dean nor Cas. Monsters are gone, there’s no more hunting to be done, and Cas wants to move out of the bunker somewhere closer to Claire, to move on with a proper human life. Dean thinks he can move there with Cas and stay as “best friends”, even to the extent that Cas encourages him to go out and have sex with others/women. (And wants to hear about it after the fact!) But can Dean figure out what he really wants, and what Cas wants as well? A refreshingly unique take on what a post-series life could have looked like for them.

Delicious smut:

Empty by squirrelofcelestialintent (43k) - Every day this fandom makes me rethink my previous squicks and DNWs in fanfic. Here I find myself enjoying quite a bit more dom/sub elements than I normally ever would! I think because I was absolutely drawn in by the breathtaking first chapter, capturing beautifully the emotions of Cas returning from the Empty in Season 13 if he and Dean had confessed their feelings right then and there. But Dean’s self-worth is all fucked up, he feels there’s no way he can be good enough for Cas, especially when his sexual desires run a little bit...let’s just say outside the vanilla and he’s struggling with shame over doing sex work when he was younger. This was HOT and POOR SAM really gets stuck in the middle of, well, hearing more about his brother’s sex life than he ever needed to.

He's My Mate by Hatsonhamburgers (22k) - This fic manages the delightful combination of humor and extreme hotness perfectly. Dean and Cas catch each other in some questionable masturbation situations. This leads Cas to decide he needs to buy Dean some proper sex toys. He’s just helping his best friend out, right? Sure. As I said, hysterical AND hot as hell. 

Generals by nanoochka (9k) - Cas/Dean, Cas/Balthazar/Dean, implied past-Cas/Balthazar. An old LJ fic I found on an ancient rec list that is just scorching hot and a brilliant character study of Cas and Dean. Balthazar decides to invite himself in when he catches Dean and Cas engaging in some frisky business, and it turns into a bit of a power-play between the two soldiers of Heaven. Cas gets DP’ed and it’s all...well. It’s fucking good, read it.

The One With The Preening by HolyFuckingHell (5.5k) Can I do a rec post without including some wing!kink/wing!grooming in it? No, I can’t. (I also really enjoyed some of the other fics in this author’s series including The One With Dean's Horny Movies).

A Single Point of Light by Destina (2.4k) - This is a gorgeous Cas/Dean/Benny Purgatory short! A delicious balance of the two each caring for and caring about Dean in their own, protective ways, definitely a delight for any fans of this threesome.

Short and sweet, fluff to angst:

Snugglebird by almaasi (5.3k) - So, so soft and sweet and snuggly, just like the title. Dean’s things are disappearing from the bunker...and so, suddenly, has Cas. What’s going on? I do love my nesting!Cas fics, so...yeah. If you need a smile this is a good one to read :)

And Cleanse Me From My Sin by thisisapaige (1.6k) - another one for my beloveds who also enjoy wing grooming and sweet Dean-taking-care-of-Cas fluff.

Needle and Thread by Misachan (4k) - Season 5 wing!fic hurt/comfort. Cas’s wings are badly injured, Dean doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but he’s stitched up Sam and himself enough times. He can do this. If you love caretaker!Dean and vulnerable!Cas don’t overlook this little gem.

Deceptive Preludes by sp8ce (2.7k) - One of those stories that delves into some of the difficulties Cas might have after coming back from the Empty a second time, especially in regards to accepting what’s real or not, understanding Dean, and how both of their communication issues can add to their struggles. Painful but hopeful for the future, felt very believable as I read it.

[catwatcha]

Pairing: Chan x Reader

Genre: Angst/fluff/smut

Word count: 2153

Warnings: 18+ smut & cursing & fainting

Authors note: shit goes down in this chapter so eeeeeekkkk

You’re too hard to forget.

It’s been one week without any dreams. I have moments where my eyes are closed and I see flashes of images that look like various hospital rooms. But none of them have Chan. I told Jasey what had happened, I think. Honestly my body felt numb and my head was ringing so I don’t know what exactly I said, but I said enough that she would leave me alone, because I don’t want to think about it.

Unfortunately, it’s all I can think about.

It’s Monday morning again. I walk into school and plaster a smile on my face, knowing that I can take off in just six hours. I can do that, right? Yes, I think. I walk over to Jasey as usual, but stop when I see a familiar face. It’s the boy who I saw outside the coffee shop a couple weeks ago. He seems to recognize me too, because he stares at me with wide eyes. “Uhhh,” I say when I look at him, and thankfully Jasey doesn’t seem to notice and interrupts me. “Y/n! You’re here! This is Minho,” she says, and I can see the blush spread across her cheeks. This is her secret. And apparently, mine too. “I’m Y/n,” I say to him, though I’m looking at my shoes. He hesitates, but introduces himself in a similar way. I silently thank him for not saying anything like, ‘I know you’, or, ‘wait you’re the weirdo who’s friends with my girlfriend?’ We shake hands. He smiles. I smile. And then I turn on my heels, because suddenly I feel dizzy and I’m having flashbacks and if I don’t run, my feet might stay grounded forever, in a state of confusion and shock. “Y/n!” Jasey yells after me, but I keep walking, because I don’t know what else to say. I hear a few whispers behind me, and then I feel a hand gently pulling my arm, stopping my escape plan. I don’t want to turn around in fear of explaining myself to Jasey, but this is worse. The person with a grip on my arm is Minho. I see Jasey on the other side of the courtyard, and she knows something because she’s staying put. Does she know what I told him? Does he even know the depth of what I told him? Right now I don’t care. Because no matter what I told them or told myself, the dreams are gone.

Minho lets go of my arm, but I know he wants to know what’s going on. I speak first. “Sorry, I’m running late and I have English and I’m happy for you and Jasey so anyways I’m gonna get going…” I said. “Y/n, yeah?” he says. I nod, and turn away but he reaches for my arm again. “Wait, I want to talk to you for a minute!” he nods over to a bench, inviting me to sit down. But before I can think, my head is spinning and Minho is there and Jasey is rushing over and there I am. I’m shaking, for reasons I don’t know, and there are so many voices yelling at me from reality as well as from my very own mind. My head hits the concrete, and I pass out.

“I’m okay love.” Chan is in a hospital bed. His hair lies flat, and his skin pale. But he still looks like Chan. My Chan. His eyes shine looking up at me, and his lips form into a smile. I hug him. “Why haven’t I been able to see you?” I ask. It’s been days of waiting, hoping, and wondering if he was okay. They wouldn’t let me in, but I knew I could’ve if he wanted me to. “Why didn’t you let me see you?” I asked as my eyes filled with familiar tears. “Because even though I was hurt, I knew that if you saw me it would hurt you too. And seeing you hurt causes me more pain than anything physical ever could.” I thought about his words, but only for a moment. Because the next thing I know, I’m consumed in a kiss that made my heart stop. I missed him. But he’s okay. It’s us against the world, and I knew nothing would change that. We were back. Chan was going to be okay, and so was I.

I woke up in the nurse’s office. I’ve only been here a few times, usually when I faked a cough to get out of class or when I get migraines. This time though it felt like I was in the middle of some depressing party, held just for me. To my right, Jasey and Minho are standing over me, talking in worried tones. About what, I don’t know. To my left, I see my mom, and that’s when I think this is serious. Then again, She was probably just obligated to be called because of the school phone call I’m sure she received. As if I had pushed some sort of button, the all look at me at the exact same time. Well, I think. This is awkward. Mrs. Amy, our school nurse, is the first to speak. “Y/n, can you hear me? You hit your head pretty hard. Do you want some water?” I shake my head. I don’t want water. I want to go back to bed. Because even though my head is actually pounding, and I’m still a bit nauseous, none of it matters right now. Chan is back. Why now? I look at Minho. He looks at me. When I shook his hand, something felt so familiar. Like he was connected somehow, but no matter. “Thank you.” I say, and I’m smiling like an idiot. He looks at me confused, but I get up and I walk out of the crowded office. And I’m running, because I have so much to do but I have only one place to go right now. I’m going to the coffee shop, and I’m not going to be scared to go in this time. It could be the beginning of the rest of my life if I would just take the extra three steps.

Minho’s P.O.V.

“Minho, I’m so confused right now,” Jasey says to me. “We literally just watched Y/n pass out hard, and then run away like she got a shot of adrenaline.” It was about 9 a.m.now, so I was very late to school. I decided to just skip today in general. This was far more interesting than world history. “I don’t know, Jae. I don’t even know her,” I say. Y/n and I hadn’t even really met that day at the coffee shop. Is this about what she said to me then? I barely remember. I just remember trying to comfort someone who looked a bit shaken up. I never thought she might be broken completely. Maybe this has something to do with that Chan kid? Maybe a breakup, who knows. I love Jasey, but do I have to deal with her friend now? It’s bad enough that Chris is already going through some breakup with a girl he won’t tell me about, and he’s slept at my house every night this week. We play music and he reads and I like that he makes me pizza (that boy can fucking cook, even if it’s just simple things), but I don’t know Y/n. I can’t handle this too. “You should talk to her,” I say to Jasey. “She’s just going through something right now,” she says back, and looks down at her shoes. I think. And then I have a stupid brilliant idea, that could help both me and Jae. We were both so caught up with our friends that we never got much time together. “You know,” I say. “If she’s going through a breakup, I may have an idea. Or even not a breakup, but just rough shit. I know it’s hard and stuff, but I think she should talk to one of my friends. Actually, I think they’d get along really well. They could keep each other company.” I mean, Chris and Y/n. I think they’d be cute. “Calum, that’s never going to happen. I’m sorry baby, but Y/n is taken. I mean, sorta.” She’s laughing, like what I said, it was the dumbest idea in the world. Ouch. “She’ll be okay. I’ll talk to her later,” she says. Oh well. Was worth a shot, if not for Y/n, for Chris at least. I apply her last words to him as well. He’ll be okay. Everything will be fine.

Y/n’s P.O.V.

I’m scared again. Five minutes ago, I told myself to take a deep breath and just walk in. That was after the twenty minutes of standing there, pretending to be on my phone and thinking. I did this so nobody would ask me what’s wrong, like Minho did. Big mistake. But now I’m here and I’m scared. Thinking about Chan always made me feel dizzy because I didn't know what was real and what was a dream. It felt like it had all just become one big blur, dragging myself to and from school, skipping my way to meet Chan and trudging my way to meet Jasey at her place. She knew about the shop, and she knew that I’d never gone in, even though I was there so often. After running out of school this afternoon, she deserved a call from me, at the least. So I called her and went over to her place, and here we are back at the same downtown corner with the smell of coffee and muffins drifting through the air. I was smiling like an idiot, and had told Jasey why I was so adamant about getting out of school. I left out the part about Minho. To me he was just another human on this earth who happened to be dating my best friend, but he had a weird effect on me. I definitely didn’t tell Jasey. She didn’t ask. “Are you ready? Let’s just grab something to go, I’m really thirsty anyways.” I knew I couldn’t stand there like an idiot for any longer. I almost lost Chan once, the worst had already happened. I knew I was ready for anything. I took one last deep breath before bracing myself, and I took my first steps into the nostalgic feeling cafe.

I took in this new feeling, both the physical and mental aspects of it. It was exactly the kind of place that I dreamed of spending hours in, reading books and writing poetry. It had dim lights and a few couches, and wooden tables were scattered around the room. It’s exactly what I knew it would be, aside from a few changes here and there, but I couldn’t help but take it all in with wide eyes. Jasey had left to go order a drink for her and myself, and I went to the table that faces the window, like I had known myself to do many times before, yet never before while conscious. This was a feeling that I was starting to like very fast. At first I couldn’t remember why I was even here, but that was only for a moment. I looked around me, but I saw no sign of a dark haired boy with the eyes that I drowned in every night. There was barely anyone here, actually. I still saw my best friends backside at the counter, waiting for our drinks and striking up a conversation with the barista. A few seats over was a boy who caught my eye.

He had bright blonde hair that was down across his forehead. His shirt was tattered, but in a fashionable way, which he wore with black skinny jeans and dirty black converse. His eyes were piercing right into mine, a dark brown that I wish didn’t scare me as much as they did. I looked down at my hands to see them shaking the smallest bit. There was something about his presence that made me uncomfortable, but at the same time like I belonged even more. He looked out of place, but acted like it didn’t matter. Just like me. I looked up again, surprised to see that he was still staring at me with an unknown emotion in his eyes. He looked confused, almost. He stood up, and I unconsciously held my breath, not knowing why he was walking over to my table. The door was behind me, but he wasn’t looking at the door. He was looking right at me, almost as if he was looking through me. He stood 2 feet from me now at a dead stop. I studied his face, while I’m sure mine had “shock” written all over it.

“Allie?”

[aroaceslytherin]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29226306/chapters/76373429

Love is love is love...

Snippets of Regulus, Narcissa, Sirius, and Andromeda's love life.

What does it take to make a love forbidden?

Someone you can’t have, usually. Whether that means they are already in a relationship, or family doesn’t approve. Well, for the children of House Black; it is the second option. Throughout history and many generations, they have matured faster than those around them. Each family member had someone to marry by the time they were born. Although, most of these children found love elsewhere and were forced to make a choice.

Alphard Black was the second known to run away from family rules because they had not accepted him for whom he loved. Cyfrin Black was the first; he discovered werewolves and fell in love with one, making a family and home with him.

Andromeda Black also ran away; the first female to do so, third Black to run from rules. It irritated Walburga Black to see her family going against the rules - especially so that it reminded her of her brother.

You would never know how terrifying Andromeda Violet Black can be until you meet her. They raised her on pure-blood rules, anger, and dark magic, following her two eldest sisters who dabbled in Death Eater ways. She could have a few tricks up her sleeve. Especially with two mischievous younger brothers.

She was a hat stall. The Sorting Hat had tried to put her into Hufflepuff but eventually landed on Slytherin for her. Andromeda stood from the stool tall and proud like her family taught. Upon sitting with her elder sisters who were in year three, Bellatrix leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“Four years with us, dear sister. I hope you follow us, ‘tis the only way to win over mother and father.”

Andromeda had then rolled her brown eyes. Surely at eleven there was not much you could do in a family of darkness except become the brighter, happier one? As Andromeda grew up, she rebelled against them. Instead of wearing black and green, she would wear earth tones; browns, greens, and oranges throwing in a bit of pink and blue here and there.

Andromeda, like her siblings, grew up lonely. Her mother; Druella Black, passed away when she was young. People said she passed during child-birth but she was there when her sisters were born. At three years of age, Andie watched her father mix a green sort of potion into her mother’s medicine. She wondered why he would even consider doing so. Later, she found out he did it so he could have power over her and her sisters - especially since he wasn’t gifted an heir (Walburga eventually took custody of them when she realized he was trying to get one from his daughters like they used to do in years past.)

At eleven years of age, Andromeda ran away to Alphard’s apartment. He hid her for three years until Walburga came pounding at his door; dragging Andromeda back home. At fifteen years of age, she noticed Edward Tonks (or Ted as he preferred). She would sneak off with him often, in hopes and fear to not get caught. Though at sixteen she had been and she ran away with him; burned off the tapestry, becoming a blood-traitor. She graduated at eighteen, married Edward, and had Nymphadora Tonks at twenty-three.

***

We all know they betrothed Narcissa to Lucius Malfoy, what you don’t know is that she was also interested in Severus Snape. She had flings with Lily Evans, dated a few girls in school; including Alice Fortescue. Like her elder sister Bellatrix, she kept her last name and slept in different rooms as her husband/fiance/boyfriend. It infuriated Lucius but he would respect her. (the only thing different was that she hyphenated it to Black-Malfoy)

Narcissa Druella Black was not a Death Eater like most believe, she did however have the Dark Mark that she was born with. It appeared on her left arm at eleven years of age. She kept it hidden behind long sleeves and arm sleeves. No one could tell which side she was on (in which she learned from Snape). She may have learned the ways of Death Eaters and Dark Arts from the time she could talk, but she may never have accepted that path completely.

Narcissa and her sisters did not have a good upbringing. Though being the youngest daughter, she had always been a powerful person mentally, physically, and magically which was an important thing to be when being a member of the House of Black or your partner spent most of his life in Azkaban.

Narcissa was the middle half of her sisters; black and white, never fully good but never fully bad either. She was a protector, a dreamer, a fighter. A mother, an aunt, and a lover. She not only raised her own son and daughters... but she raised Bellatrix's daughters, helped Andromeda with her daughter, helped/took in Remus, Sirius, James, Regulus, and Lily's kids when they passed.

She raised her son; Draco Malfoy, with great intentions and did her best to give him a better upbringing than she had. It was difficult to do so with Lucius Malfoy as a father. That is where Severus Snape stepped up and lent a hand to be a father figure for Draco. He protected him with all that he could. But was unfortunately too late in stopping him from inhibiting the Dark Mark like his parents. Lily Evans was a third parental figure with rights to him.

Narcissa screamed at Lucius the same words she had screamed at Bellatrix: “He’s just a boy!”

She may have come off as overprotective but she knew if Draco went down that path, he would never be the same little boy she had spun in circles in the ballroom late at night when he couldn’t sleep. She would stay up at all hours of the day just to see him happy.

It broke her heart when the smiles stopped. All she wanted was her baby to smile. Lily got him to smile sometimes, but it was never enough. It would never be enough for Narcissa.

Never enough love, hugs, attention, or money could ever repair Narcissa from the damage her family had caused on her and her son.

***

Sirius Orion Black. The family troublemaker, rule-breaker, and rebel. A lion in a pit of snakes. If anyone were to act like Alphard and drive Walburga even further up the wall - it would be her own son. She had never expected to see what it was like to raise Alphard all over again, but Sirius did just that. He had put up a fight since he was born.

At eleven years of age, Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor and became the second blood-traitor. His father hated him from then on and would abuse him with the unforgivable curses. They told him he was no longer a suitable heir, and it fell to his youngest brother; Regulus Black. Though Sirius could see who Regulus truly was even if he was too afraid to find it within himself. Sirius understood that; their family was terrifying. Only in things for money, power, and keeping the name of Black pure. Though incest was the farthest thing from pure.

Sirius also noted at eleven years of age that he was a few steps ahead of his dorm-mates in puberty and interests. Within two months of him being at Hogwarts, he had kissed a girl two years older than him and was already trying to figure out the two girls his family had chosen for him to marry when they were of age. Kissing and flirting with girls made him sick. Sirius soon realised that he wanted one of his best friends.

He realised his feelings were getting stronger when his friends came back after Summer Break in 93’ and Remus’ voice was deeper, his face was sharper, and he had grown a few inches. Sirius could never act right around him anymore. He noticed little things about Remus he hadn’t before, his quirks became cute, changing in front of him got awkward, and he got flustered seeing him fresh out of a shower. It was hard to tell what Remus was feeling since he was always blushing.

He was thirteen when he first kissed Remus. They were alone one day talking about crushes and things when Sirius looked into Remus’ amber eyes and whispered; “You.” Remus was blushing hard and smiling randomly the rest of the day but either of them would deny it whenever Peter or James asked what was going on.

Sirius was sixteen when he ran away to the Potters because his parents found out he was gay and dating a half-blood. He couldn’t even fathom what they would do if they found out that his boyfriend was a werewolf. He would occasionally go back home just because of Regulus.

He would never forget what his father uttered to him just before he grabbed Regulus’ hand and ran with him out of their father’s office before anything worse could happen. ‘You disobeyed the rules! You are to keep the line pure, marry a woman and raise perfect heirs!’ It would never happen. And he even said it out loud; ‘That would be very unlikely.’ He closed his eyes to take a deep breath when he remembered what had happened next.

His world flipped upside down a few times; being betrayed by one of his best friends, living through a war, finding out he was pregnant at seventeen, and marrying the love of his life at nineteen. Although, when he had held his little girl (Omega metamorphagus/trans Veela) he thought everything would be alright.

Until it wasn’t and the Aurors threw him into Azkaban at twenty-two. He lost his family, his husband, his son and daughter, his friends, his lovers, and his brothers. (Remus rescued him two years later.)

***

Regulus Arcturus Black. Although the youngest and perfect in everyone’s eyes, has some pretty well-hidden secrets of his own. Like how he would dance with girls just to spite his family but then he would get his brother to signal for him if he ended up getting thrown towards a girl his family wanted him to marry and walk away.

Regulus Black...

The biggest rule follower. Followed in his family’s footsteps even if he had not agreed with everything they were saying. Did all he could to get on his parents’ good side. As he grew up, he realised there was no good side. It was either “follow us to death” or “run as far as you can and make a life of your own in hiding to gain safety”.

His parents were wrong when they said to him and Sirius that all they had in common was black curly hair, chiseled faces, and grey eyes. They were similar in brave stupidity, chivalry, and honesty. Regulus may have been sorted into Slytherin but there was no doubt he had a heart of a lion, making him a lion in a snake’s den whereas his brother was a snake in a lion’s den. Sure Sirius was a Gryffindor, and that is where he belonged, but there was no escaping the teachings and rules of their family.

You could change yourself, think differently, and behave differently but you were still going to be holding on to knowledge of Dark Arts and how to protect yourself even if it meant death. Sure other people would fight to death, but some would stop before someone got hurt.

Not his family. If it wasn’t what they wanted; they would never listen and never stop until the last breath was taken. Even once you get away from them and years later become unrecognisable to them, there are going to be moments where you have a thought or two on what they did, who they were, how you were raised, and questioning the lies even after finding truth.

Another thing they were similar in?

Being gay.

Sirius’ friend was right. You are born the way you are. You can’t help who you love.

And Regulus couldn’t help but love James.

It shattered him to break up with him when he became caught in the turmoil of Voldemort.

Once Regulus went running back to James - even though he was married to Lily - he took him back into his arms and they welcomed him into a home where there was nothing but love.

Regulus thought he could not love two people; that it was wrong. Even with seeing Narcissa and Sirius doing so.

They showed him he could, and it was alright.

They protected him, helped him, and rescued him.

Unfortunately he still died at eighteen leaving behind his husband, two daughters, a son, and another unborn son. (Or did he?)

***

So what makes love forbidden?

Nothing.

Love is love is love.

[elbiotipo]

Galactic Geography at the end of the Dark Age of Capricorn

The Old Worlds: These were once the center of galactic civilization, the homeworlds of the noble civilizations that created the old Oikumene. From Concordia, the Star of the Ten Thousand Worlds, the Blessed Imperatrix oversaw the most brilliant civilization the Galaxy ever saw. After the Collapse they are burned husks of their former glories, haunted by demons and restless souls.

The Terran Sphere: Humans, having discovered harmonics and LML by themselves, expanded into their own sphere of influence over nearby stars, forming a "small" (about 500 ly) sphere, but rich in wealth and history (if not as powerful as they once were before the Collapse), with each world having its own particular culture, including the holiest of holies, Mother Earth herself.

Other Spheres: Much like humans, other species that have developed harmonics by themselves also expanded into their own "core" spheres, and each one of them is as interesting and diverse as the human one, just more… alien… to our eyes.

The Colonies: When harmonic travel became widespread, long-range missions were sent to rich stars (major sources of liquid-matter-light, abandoned megastructures, luxury resources, or just planets that looked promising) beyond explored space. These eventually developed into major industrial and economic centers and created their own spheres, some even surpassed their own homeworlds, with decaying ecumenopolises under towering space elevators and illydic garden worlds, even after the Collapse. However, from their homeworlds' perspective, they will always remain just The Colonies.

Warpover Stars: Everything else in the middle. With galactic travel as dangerous as it is, you can find mostly anything here; dirty mining worlds, quiet rural worlds, bustling trade centers, cursed sorcerer planets, nomadic pirate gleets, abandoned tourist resorts, places that are barely the equivalent of a gas station, abandonded ruins, primitive civilizations, small alien cultures, just about anything… and of course, lots of seedy space bars. The inhabitants in general have a very frontier, proud attitute.

The Wilds: Most of the galaxy has been mapped in times past, but those maps are out of date, and some stars haven't been visited in centuries if ever, in sectors that are so empty that they don't qualify even as Warpover Stars. Nobody knows what lurks there. Inevitably, rumors of realms of lurking demons, hostile civilizations readying to invade, ancients renmants of the Oikumene, treasure systems and space monsters abound. Most of the time it's just empty systems but sometimes, some rumors do prove true… too many for comfort.

The Galactic Core: The Core has always been considered a harsh place for travel. The aetheric currents there are treacherous, and the density of stars and exit points makes navigation extremely difficult. In any case, the thick cloud of stars that surrounds the Galactic Core is not kind to life constantly bathed in radiation and subject to brutal gravitational pulls and asteroid bombardments. On its center lies Twilight, the rotten heart of the Galaxy and the throne world of demonkind, orbiting the black hole to which thousands are sacrificed each day.

The Halo: The lonely stars of the galactic halo, and those lost among intergalactic space, are often resource poor and very hard to reach. A few come here to be alone, to escape the demon infested Core, to contemplate the Galaxy from above, or to prospect for shortcuts and routes, but few people really live here. The ones who do are outcasts, either voluntarily or forcedly.

The Satellite Galaxies and Beyond: It is said that in the Golden Age of the Oikumene, they counted the Magellanic Clouds as part of its realm, and they sent expeditions even beyond, to other galaxies. Whatever this is true is disputed. However, a few treacherous routes do remain to the nearby satellite galaxies, across scattered Halo stars. The civilizations of the Magellanic Clouds and the other Satellites are… strange…

[lailoken]

“Stones of Power:

The Flints which find their way to the surface of the land are beautiful and varied but nevertheless quite small. The few larger stones which are found around Norfolk are mostly glacial erratics. Due to their relative rarity, such stones are considered remarkable and are rich in history, often having been meeting places where significant decisions were taken. Unsurprisingly, they have much magical lore associated with them and retain considerable power, which can be drawn upon for magical purposes. This sometimes involves spells but is more often a means of developing our understanding of unwritten history. After all, the memory of stones is deeper and denser than the Mercurial gifts of pen and ink of of the whispered word. The sonorous voices of these stones have a language of their own, unfettered by grammar and vocabulary. They "speak’ to one another across the landscape, maintaining, not only their ancient kinship, but also an intricate pattern of silent power lines. The following examples represent just a small selection. There are more which can be sought out.

The Cowell Stone

This stone is to be found on Swaffham Heath, about 150 yards from the B1122 road to Downham Market. It stands at a truly liminal spot, marking a hundred boundary, as well as those of the parishes of Swaffham, Marham and Narborough. Part of the Icknield Way, marked as Peddersty or Saltersty, and the East-West Fincham Drove, which is a Roman road, pass very close to it (Clarke and Clarke, 1937). Its magic draws together the footsteps of the many who have trodden these paths and lived and died in the surrounding parishes.

The origin of the stone's name has a number of possibilities. Ben Ripper (1979) suggests it is named after Cow Hill, or a corruption of coal, since the stone once guided pilgrims to a beacon hill near Colkirk (Coalchurch). The stone used to be situated in a field nearby, where workers sat on it to eat their dinner. However, in the 1980s, it was moved by two local historians, Ben Ripper and Peter Howling, as it was considered to be at risk of damage from ploughing. The move seems not to have disrupted its energy in any way, perhaps because it was conducted with respect and honourable intentions. It has a warm, welcoming lenergy, one which encourages the seeker to both broaden and deepen their quest for knowledge, not just of stones, but of all aspect of the magic of the land.

The Merton Stone

The Merton Stone, nestled in a shallow marl pit, just off the Peddars Way near the boundary of the parishes of Merton and Threxton, is thought to weigh between twenty and thirty tons and to be the largest glacial erratic in the United Kingdom.

Some people say that to stand on it is a chilling experience, where the presence of malevolent spirits can be felt. However, on a warm, sunny day it is more likely to be a very pleasant, and indeed healing experience. It is well known that, continuing a centuries-old tradition, young ladies wishing to fall pregnant still sit on the stone and find its magic effective. The plants around it, especially the Mugwort, seem to derive extra energy from their proximity to such a powerful character.

There is a long-held local belief that, if the stone is removed, the waters will rise and cover the entire Earth (Clarke and Clarke, 1937). Moving the stone was apparently attempted by the 5th Lord of Walsingham, one of the ancient de Grey family. He assembled all the local men and women, together with much beer and many ropes, but the failed attempt ended in an "erotic debauch". Another attempt to move it, in the 1930s or 40s, this time using a large rotary plough, was equally unsuccessful (Burgess, 2005b), although I have been unable to find out whether this ended the same way as the previous escapade.

The Stockton Stone

The Stockton Stone currently stands on the raised grass verge of a lay-by on the A146, between Beccles and Norwich, just outside the village of Stockton itself. This lichen-covered, sandstone glacial erratic weighs several tons and is said by some to have been an ancient track marker. According to Michael Clarke, it marks the old meeting place of the Clavering hundred, possibly the place where the 10th century Danegeld was paid, although Geldeston, near Beccles, might be a more likely candidate, given its name.

Like the Merton Stone, the Stockton Stone has a curse upon it that anyone who moves it will fall victim to terrible misfortune or death. Much to the consternation of many local people, it was indeed moved, in the 1930s, to accommodate the widening of the road. Not surprisingly. one of the workmen involved collapsed and died.

In spite of its unfortunate location, so close to a very busy road, this stone retains an amazingly powerful energy and people still leave small offerings there. While paying our respects recently, a group of us found a rather attractive blue stone egg, which looked as if it had not been there for very long. Moved by the moment and by the atmosphere, one of our party suggested that we should hold hands and dance around the stone three times, which we duly did, much to the amusement of passing motorists!

The Great Stone of Lyng

This is another erratic brought to us by the glaciers of the Ice Age. There are many local tales surrounding this mysterious Stone, which is said to bleed if pricked with a pin. Some claim the blood is that of victims from a time when the stone was used as a sacrificial altar, while others are of the opinion that it is the blood of those who fell during a ferocious battle between King Edmund and the Danes. Others tell of treasure hidden beneath it and how the landowner has never been able to move the stone to unearth the spoils (Burgess, 2005a).

The grove in which the stone stands, almost hidden beside the path, does have a rather unnerving feel to it. One can "see" all too easily soldiers struggling up the steep escarpment and the bodies of the slain sprawled on the bank to the other side of the path. Rod Chapman informs me that, not so very many years ago, some of the children of the village had to walk through the grove, past the stone, in order to get to school and, in the winter, these children were allowed to leave school early so that they could walk through before it was dark. This is completely understandable. On climbing out of the hollow to the fields above, the atmosphere suddenly changes completely. There is almost a sense of relief and a feeling that one no longer needs to speak in hushed whispers.

There is a recent tale of a brave, tough, yet inexperienced witch who was determined to camp out for a night by the stone, in order to become better acquainted with the ghosts and spirits of the place. He pitched his tent right near the stone and was confident that he would have an interesting and informative night's vigil. However, he became so frightened by the eerie sounds and the terrifying atmosphere that he was forced to run from the place and ring a fellow practitioner to come with their car and rescue him! The stone does look something like a Dragon and has a hole in it just where the eye would be, which is deep enough for an adult to insert their entire arm. Quite a few people I know have done this and come to no harm, although it is not a pleasant experience.

Not far from the grove, in the middle of a field, are the ruins of a nunnery known as St. Edmund's Chapel, which was said to have been built to honour those who died in the battle.

It has been suggested that Blood's Dale, between Drayton and Hellesdon, on the slopes leading down to the River Wensum, where the Danes are also said to have fought the Anglo-Saxons, may have been the site of King Edmund's death in 896 CE. Abbo of Fleury (870 CE) tells us that King Edmund died at Hellesdon, and Joe Mason (2018) argues convincingly, that the unusual number of churches dedicated to St. Edmund along this stretch of the River Wensum is significant. The survivors, having found the King's severed head with the help of the Wolf, could have taken his body upstream to Lyng, to the aforementioned chapel. Although not fully excavated, some pottery dating from the time of King Edmund, has been found there. Furthermore, an old tithe map refers to the Grove as King's Grove and a map published in the Eastern Daily Press in 1939, names the Great Stone as King Edmund's Stone. Perhaps this would have been a suitable burial place for the miracle-working king? (Mason, 2018) Some of us would like to think so. Certainly, the Ash keys collected from a tree growing on the ruins of the nunnery are particularly effective in assisting those who wish to speak with spirits of the dead.

The Aldeby Rune Stones

Not all our standing stones are ancient, and just as exciting are those being erected now for the benefit of ourselves and of future generations. Aldeby, in South East Norfolk, is a wonderful such example. Here, seven standing stones have been carved with runes and with Christian symbols, and placed around the parish boundary as part of a Millennium project, known as "Pathways in Stone". The runes spell out the name of the village but are also related to the powers of the stones themselves. The Stone of Dawn, for example, features the Day Rune (dagaz) and a Medieval symbol of the World and the four Elements, while the Stone of Wisdom has the God Rune (ansuz) and the square and circle symbol for the material and spiritual worlds. One stone, the Stone of Destiny, combines all the symbols found on the outlying stones, with the addition of the othel rune, symbolizing ancestral land and heritage. The stones are carboniferous limestone, so had to be brought in especially for the project, but in spite of having been in place for a relatively short time, some of them are already giving off some very interesting energy.

These stones form a pilgrimage walk around the village and are best seen in the Winter when they are not obscured by vegetation.

The Druid Stone of St. Andrew's

When Ray Loveday pointed out to me his "Druid Stone", at the North-east corner of St. Andrew's Church, in the centre of Norwich, I was astounded that I had walked down St. Andrew's Hill so many times, admiring the cleverly-knapped Flint of the church wall, without noticing this stone. It is another of those magical items which are hiding in plain sight, but once the attention is drawn to it, the remarkable ancient power it holds becomes apparent. This stone, at least what can be seen of it above ground, is not large, and has a fairly flat top with a number of circular indentations which are often filled with' water, and work well as scrying pools. Ray is unsure whether they are a natural feature, were deliberately carved out or have developed over centuries as a result of water dripping from the church roof. There are several smaller, less well-rounded dips too, which tend to get rather muddy. The stone, which has a very feminine feel to it, welcomes small, discrete offerings, such as a ring of twisted Periwinkle stems or a little Daisy chain; nothing too elaborate or containing any artificial materials. It certainly deserves respect and attention, as it appears to form part of the magical foundation of the city.”

—

Chapter 2: ‘Sacred Places: Stories Within the Landscape’,

Of Chalk & Flint:

A Way of Norfolk Magic

by Val Thomas

[arandompostarchive]

Inure - Prologue

SAVED WORK

Summary: To some, The Specter is a serial killer. To some, a hero. But to everyone, you were entirely a mystery. You had no history, just a list of victims a mile long. No matter how many people searched your name, they could find anything. If only they had the spelling right. Now, you’ve come across some unfortunate information that drives you out of your usual shadows and into the path of the Avengers. Including two of the more reclusive members of the team. And it’s hard to pick only one of them.

W/T: cursing, blood, violence, slight panic attack

***

Your eyes slowly opened. At least you thought they opened. There was nothing but pitch black around you, a pillow-like fabric lying beneath you. You felt your way around the small space, trying to figure out where you were.

You couldn’t remember much. Just screaming and a flash. Some sort of loud, ear-splitting sound. Then you were here. Where ever ‘here’ was.

You tried to listen to what was around you. You tried and tried but heard nothing but a blood curdling silence. Absolute silence. Now that you were really thinking, you had never heard real silence in your life. Not like this. This was chilling.

As much as you liked laying around doing nothing, you were getting bored of it quickly. You felt like everything was closing in on you, though in the tight space you sat in, that was fully possible. You tried to stay as calm as you could, given the situation, and started kicking at the sides of whatever space you were in. It was tough to push against, but eventually the side broke and you could feel something spill into your space. It was most definitely dirt.

Buried alive. Not how you thought your weekend was going to go.

“I need a fucking drink after this.” You mumbled to yourself, noting how your words seemed to be swallowed up by the silence and dirt around you. You closed your eyes and pushed yourself through the dirt, ignoring the cold, wet feeling under your hands. You clawed through it, getting more than a few specks in your eyes and underneath your nails. With a few more pushes, you felt your hand break through the ground.

You struggled to find any sort of grip to pull yourself up. Your hands were weak by now and the ground was more mud than dirt. You felt cold rain on your hands and you pulled yourself up to the best of your ability.

The second your head was above the ground you spit out whatever dirt had landed in your mouth. You had lost your shoes on your way up, though that was hardly your first priority. You pulled your legs up though the dirt, rain beating down hard on your back. Your hair was plastered to your face and you were certain you looked less than presentable.

You looked around. As expected, you were in the middle of a graveyard. The moon was only a bright spot among the clouds, blurred by the heavy rain around you. At least your headstone was nice. It had engravings of flowers and vines around your name. The rain had washed away whatever dirt may have been there, leaving the engravings clear.

A dear friend who would do anything it took to help those she could.

You smiled a bit, wondering who thought of that. Which one of your friends planned your funeral…? What day was it? You shook the new thoughts out of your head, trying to gather as much information as possible. There were some plants growing along your headstone, you recognized it as ivy, though it was covering the dates below your name. You brushed it aside to read the year you supposedly died in. 1943. That sounded right. The memories were slowly coming back to you. Your family, friends, where you lived, where you worked.

You heard voices over the rain. You couldn’t be certain, but they sounded like men talking to each other, though you couldn’t tell how old they were.

“Sam if you don’t hurry up I swear to god!” You heard one of them shout.

“I’m trying! Maybe you should shut up and help, huh? Might back this go a little faster.” You walked toward the voices, stumbling a bit as rocks from the ground scratched against your feet.

“Hello?” You yelled as soon as you could see the figures. There were three men in total, though two of them were waist deep in a grave, shovels in hand. You didn’t really want to know what they were doing.

“Oh shit.” One of them said when they saw you coming. The one who was out of the grave stepped closer to you. He was tall and seemed intimidating, though at this point you couldn’t care less.

“What are you doin’ out this late?” The man asked kindly. Too kindly given the situation. He had a heavy New York accent, though you could still make out his words easily. He had a smirk on his face that might’ve scared you if you were 100% done with the universe’s bullshit right now.

“Listen, I don’t care what you’re doing. Tell me though, what day is it?”

The men looked at each other. “Sunday?” One of the men in the grave said, looking confused. He was wearing a hat which looked like it was doing more harm than good with how the rain was pulling it into his face.

You sighed. “If you wouldn’t mind being a little more specific.”

The other one in the grave answered for him “January 4th. Well, after midnight. So January 5th.” You didn’t remember it being January. You thought back to the last day you remembered.

You couldn’t remember the date, but you could remember a man. Stark. He got you ‘killed’, didn’t he? He fucked over your life for his own benefit. The second you got the chance, you were gonna kill him.

“Even more specific.” They looked at each other.

“Like, the time?” One of them finally asked.

You shook your head. “No, you idiot. What year is this.” They exchanged glances again.

“Uh, 1992?” The one in front of you said. 1992?

Fuck. How long had you been out? You were sure it was 1943. You were in the middle of the war, building weapons with Howard and brainstorming tactics with Peggy in your spare time. How on Earth was it 1992?

Howard could answer. Howard knew what happened to you, though he probably kept it to himself to preserve his ‘reputation’ or something like that. You’d find a way to kill him. Worse than kill him. You’d destroy his life just like he’d wrecked yours. You weren’t sure what was a weirder development in your life right now. Being buried alive and chatting with some grave robbers or somehow ending up 50 years in the future.

“Answer me one more question.”

This time you weren’t asking. The man in front of you backed away. You couldn’t see yourself. You were sure exactly what you were doing. But it felt different. It felt good.

“Your eyes.” One of them whispered, “What the hell happened to your eyes.”

You held up a hand to tell him to be quiet. Instead, the three men lifted off the ground. So the night keeps getting weirder.

They were silent, their hands clawing at their throats, though there was nothing there. That’s when you saw it. The body of three women in back of them. They were clearly fresh, more fresh than someone who had been buried. Multiple stab wounds decorated their backs. So they weren’t grave robbers. They were murderers.

“Where can I find Howard Stark?” You asked. They frantically looked at each other, hoping someone would have an answer for you.

“That millionaire guy?” You almost laughed. Millionaire. Of course. “I don’t know, lady! I’m sure he’s got a company or somethin’, ask them!” It was worth a shot asking. “Please, put us down.” You cocked your head, glancing down to the bodies behind the men.

“I’m sure they asked for a little mercy. Doesn’t seem like you all cared, though.” You frowned at them. You weren’t sure what you were doing. At this point, you were just rolling with the punches. But somehow, you remembered what to do. It was natural. Was this something you could always do? You couldn’t remember clearly.

You focused then clenched your fist. Watching blood drip from the men’s eyes. You dropped them. Scoffing at all six of the bodies on the ground. You didn’t bother cleaning up. It wasn’t like the police were going to put a woman who was dead for 50 years on their watch list.

You stepped over them. Sparing the women a glance. You straightened out their bodies, making sure they weren’t stuffed in a haphazard pile. Someone could give them a proper burial now.

You didn’t bother with the men. Blood had pooled around them. It looked more like brain matter, though it had been washed by the rain and you could hardly tell it from the mud now.

You didn’t smile.