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mint-yooxgi · 6 years ago

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[1] - Belonging - Wolf!Junmyeon X Reader

Wolf AU - Part of the EXO Trails of Moonlight Series

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Mature, Smut (In later chapters)

Pairing: Junmyeon X Reader

Words: 2,414

A/n: So I'm super excited to start this series and I hope you guys are too! I know I have a whole bunch of other stuff planned to write, but I promise that won't change. I hope you all can continue to support me and my writing, and I do really hope you all enjoy this series! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

Moving to a new town in a new, unfamiliar territory, is never a fun time for you, or your pack. Scouting out the area for weeks in advance, scarcely hunting while you’re in wolf form to try and divert unwanted attention away from your pack, but also only shifting once in a while to keep your scents low, and to avoid suspicion.

It’s no secret many supernatural beings walk the earth, living side by side, and doing their very best to pass as normal to the humans surrounding them. Wolves, witches, fairies, banshees, vampires, you name it, they’re here.

The biggest worrisome feature for new wolves moving into an already occupied territory, is that packs never truly know the boundaries of the existing territories unless they are shown. There are certain parts of an existing pack’s territory that may not have been traversed in years, to the point the scent has worn down. It’s hard to tell what has been claimed if a scent is not immediately obvious. That, and the fact that all new wolf packs to the area are to report to a communal meeting so nobody steps on another’s toes.

Unfortunately, your uncle doesn’t like to play by the rules.

“When can we go out for a run in our wolf forms?” Dani complains, frown clear on his face.

“We can’t all go out at once since we don’t know the terrain very well, but a few of us can go tonight,” your uncle explains. Before anyone can protest, he continues, “I’m choosing who’s going, and how many.”

“No fair! We all know you’re just going to pick (Y/n) again,” Yisung whines.

The sound of your name catches your attention, causing you to raise your head slightly from your position on the couch to look at the three males standing around the kitchen table. Your uncle turns his gaze towards Yisung.

“Well, I was going to suggest you and Giyeon go out tonight, that way the two of you could have some alone time away from the pack, but since you’re so inclined to assuming my choices, I’ll just go with who you thought I was going to pick,” your uncle states, turning to look at you. “Congratulations, (Y/n), you get to go on the first official run by yourself.”

Yisung lets out a low growl in discontent before turning around and storming out of the kitchen. Your eyes follow his movements until you can no longer see him. As soon as he’s gone, you roll your eyes.

“Max, I still can’t believe they accuse you of favouritism every time, just because we’re related,” you scoff. “How many times have you continuously proven them wrong, yet they still won’t drop the subject?”

“No kidding,” comes your uncle’s reply as Dani sulks out of the kitchen.

“I heard that!” Yisung yells from upstairs.

“No shit, you were supposed to!” You yell back, sitting up from your relaxed position on the couch. “Also doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that we’re werewolves!”

“That’s it!” You hear a thump, and quick feet heading back towards the stairs.

“That’s my cue to skidoo,” you jump up from the couch, and head towards the back door. “See you later.”

“Don’t go too far!” Your uncle warns as you rush past him.

You make it out the back door and down the back steps just as Yisung makes it downstairs. However, you’re too quick for him, shifting and running off into the woods as your uncle steps in front of Yisung to block his path and calm him down.

You can’t help but let out a small chuckle as you sprint through the woods. It’s been weeks since you’ve been allowed to run this freely. The wind rushing through your fur sends chills down your spine, feeling a grin pull at your lips.

You continue running straight for a little bit until you start picking up on another pack’s scent, opting to change directions before you can get too close, wanting to avoid them being able to pick up your scent, and chasing you back to your new pack house.

You slow down to a jog, trailing along the edges of the trees as you come to a little clearing, panting heavily. You don’t recognize any immediate threats, so you walk out of the trees and over to the small spring of water at the opposite end.

Dipping your front paw into the pool, you immediately recoil at its cold temperature. This still doesn’t stop you from having a drink to quench your thirst from running.

After you’re satisfied having drunk some of the fresh water, you turn around and sit on your hind legs, taking in your surroundings. You watch as a gentle breeze floats through the tops of the trees, their colourful leaves swaying back and forth with a few falling to the ground below. The signs of autumn are becoming more apparent everyday.

For the first time in weeks, you feel at peace.

With no one to bother you, or disturb your alone time, you allow yourself to relax. Laying down on the ground you rest your head on your front paws, tail twitching every now and then like a cat’s would. Your uncle always loves to mention how you seem more like a cat than a wolf at times, but it doesn’t bother you, you know he’s just teasing. However, if any other member of your pack says it, there’s hell to pay.

It’s no secret that over half of your pack doesn’t like you, and part of the reason is because you’re related to Max, your uncle and the alpha of the pack. No matter what you do, they will always accuse you of favouritism.

The other reason is because you’re not afraid to stand up to them. The previous female betas never stepped out of line or disobeyed any of the males. You’re not afraid to challenge them. Over the years, this has earned you a few scars from getting into fights with the other members of the pack, but you manage. You’re lucky you have your uncle, since sometimes when they gang up on you, you’re not sure if you could survive their attacks.

Your pack consists of four males, and two other females besides yourself. Your uncle, Max, the head alpha. Yisung, who makes it clear everyday he likes you the least out of everyone, and his mate Giyeon who is another female beta. Dani, who tries his best to take a neutral stance on everything. He’s probably the least problematic of your group, and the one who actually gets along with you. Well, besides your uncle.

Vivian is the other female beta in your pack, and she hates you one day, but then acts decent towards you the next. You still can’t get a read on her, but you’re pretty sure she doesn’t like you either. Her mate Woosin is another male who can’t stand you in the pack. Whether it’s because of you in general, or Vivian’s influence, you do not know.

You let out a sigh as you think of everything that has happened in the past year. You just hope to all hell you can start living your life soon, without having to be chased out of your home again, whether it be by another rival pack, or hunters.

The sound of a twig snapping close by causes you to jump to your feet, tensing as you let out a low threatening growl. You receive two back as two wolves step out from the trees, fangs barred.

Fuck, this is not good, you start to mentally scold yourself for being so careless.

You prepare for them to attack, waiting for one of them to pounce, but movement to your left catches your eye. You manage to jump back just in time to avoid the new set of claws that come lashing your way.

The three of them surround you, backing you up to the edge of the water, leaving you with nowhere to go. Not wanting to start a fight without knowing you have backup on the way, you do the only logical thing you can at the moment. You howl.

Back at your house, your pack-mates hear your call. Your uncle, Dani, and Yisung all sprint out of the house, and in your direction, shifting as fast as they can. Most of them may not be able to stand you, but if they didn’t answer your call for help, your uncle would skin them alive, and use their pelts as blankets.

Meanwhile, the pack these three wolves are apart of also hear your howl. A few of them prepare to run out of their own house to help their own pack-mates who went to check the perimeters, but before anyone can head out the door, a voice stops them.

“I’ll go,” Junmyeon states. “I can handle this.”

Before anyone can protest, he’s already out the door, jumping off the porch, and shifting in midair. He bounds across the field and into the woods, many thoughts flying through his head at once. However, one thought keeps repeating itself over and over again.

Mate.

It shouldn’t be possible. It can’t be you, can it? He’s waited all his life to find you, searched all his life for you, yet when he’s least expecting it, the universe reveals you to him.

He can’t explain it, but ever since he heard that howl, his whole body felt like it came alive. Almost as if little jolts of electricity are coursing through his veins. The overwhelming need to protect you from his own pack is the first thing he feels. He needs to get to you, to make sure you’re real, that what he’s feeling is real, and not just some sick trick of nature.

He makes it to the little clearing in record time, slowing down just before he breaks the tree line to assess the situation. He can clearly see Chanyeol, Minseok, and Kyungsoo fighting off what looks like three members of your pack as you prepare to strike from behind.

There you are, in the midst of battle, and Junmyeon can feel his heart skip a beat in his chest, the electrifying feeling he felt earlier multiplying tenfold. However, it doesn’t hurt him. In fact, it feels more pleasant than anything, sending warmth throughout his entire body.

Your fur is the most brilliant shade of golden brown he’s ever seen, almost as if it was made to compliment his own dark brown coat. You look like everything he could have ever imagined his mate to look like, and more. Actually, you look even better than anything he could have ever imagined.

He takes a deep breath and recognizes the scents of his pack mates, as well as the three unfamiliar wolves. One scent in particular stands out to him, and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever smelt. Hazelnut and caramel drifts through his nostrils, and he knows it’s you. Wolves’ mates smell like each other’s favourite scents, and those are his.

Just before you can strike, Junmyeon decides to make his presence known. A warning growl escapes his lips as he steps out of the woods. Immediately, his pack mates back off, moving to stand behind him in a line.

Who Junmyeon assumes is the alpha of your pack steps forward, the three of you coming to stand behind the grey wolf in front. Junmyeon cannot help but keep glancing at you from the corner of his eyes, and he can tell you are too. He puffs out his chest a little bit, wanting to impress you for your first time meeting him, your first time seeing him.

Are you the alpha? Junmyeon questions.

I am, comes the reply from the grey wolf. We’re new to the area, and haven’t been able to figure out all the territories yet. I apologize for my niece’s intrusion on your land, she can get a bit… adventurous.

You let out a low warning growl at your uncle’s words, and he turns around to glare at you, successfully silencing you.

Junmyeon just chuckles in response, it’s alright, just make sure your pack comes to the next town meeting regarding new packs and established territories. It’s this Friday at the atrium, I wouldn’t miss it if I were you.

Wouldn’t plan on it, your uncle replies. I apologize once more. We’ll be on our way then.

With a final nod of his head, your uncle turns around and leads the three of you back to your pack house. Junmyeon watches as your wolf retreats further and further away, his tail swishing behind him in discontent. He lets out an involuntary growl, as just before you completely disappear from his sight, he sees one of the other male wolves from your pack ram into your side, causing you to let out a small yelp.

Junmyeon! What the fuck was that all about? Minseok questions, coming around to stand in front of his alpha and successfully pulling him out of his thoughts.

I don’t know, you tell me, Junmyeon rounds on him, anger spiking more than usual at the thought of any one of his pack members harming his mate. You know we have a set rule not to attack new wolves right away. Speaking of which, why did you all choose to attack her?

She smelt of unfamiliar wolves, plus we thought she was sleeping when we first found her. She growled at us first, Chanyeol explains as they all begin to walk back to their place.

He’s right, we thought she was going to attack first, so we countered before she got the chance, Kyungsoo adds.

I still don’t like it, Junmyeon says, letting out a huff of air. Hopefully something like this doesn’t happen again.

With that being said, no one else says anything for the rest of the journey back to their place. However, Junmyeon’s mind can’t help but to wander back to you. When will he see you again? Did you feel the same way about him when you saw him as he does for you? Do you feel the pull?

He shakes his head slightly, clearing his thoughts. All he does know, is that he will see you again, and if fate won’t make it happen, he sure as hell will.

#part of the exo trails of moonlight series #wolf exo #exo wolf au #exo werewolf au #exo au #au #kpop #Kpop au #kpop scenario #exo scenario #Kim Junmyeon #junmyeon scenario #suho #suho scenario #wolf au

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thebifrostgiant · 6 years ago

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If You Know Where to Look - Part 2

Summary: A harrowing encounter on your familiar road home leads you down a path you’d never dreamed you’d follow. But when your fate becomes entwined with that of the Prince, you must learn to stand together or risk everything falling apart

Part 1

Read on Ao3

Word count: 2,762

Rating: T (for now)

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Chapter 2: A Little Knowledge

The creaking of wood and the sound of soft footsteps register as if from a distance, and you clutch tighter at the soft blanket around you. Light hits your face, along with cool, fresh air, and you open your eyes at once, startling awake from a sleep you hadn’t meant to have. You slowly look around, although you do not move more than your eyes.

Einvald is standing at the tent entrance, silhouetted against the early morning light outside. He ducks out and lets the flap fall shut without a backward glance, leaving you alone for the first time since last evening, when all this began.

You stretch cautiously, unsure how long you have before Einvald returns, or someone else comes to fetch you.

You realize that a bowl of clean water has been left beside your pile of furs, and you wash your hands in it before splashing the cold water on your cheeks and drying them on one of the pelts. Your braid had come loose in the night, so you unplait it the rest of the way, leaving your hair in waves around your face. Unbidden, you feel a twinge of loss. It was a rather pretty braid. But its hardly worth dwelling on, not when you have so much else to think about. You still do not know what plan this strange group of people have in mind for you, nor do you have any means of formulating an escape.

Besides, you miss your family with jolt of pain that’s unexpectedly fierce. They’re bound to be worried sick about you, fretful minds dreaming up what awful fate must have befallen you to keep you from coming home. Maybe they think I am dead. And that thought feels heavy in your chest, settling there like a stone, pressing down, aching under the weight of it.

What you wouldn’t give for your mother’s warmth and kind advice, Father’s steadfast presence, or the long, pensive conversations you could have with your brother, and the laughs shared between you all. You even miss Búrakki, the fluffy black dog that runs about the farm, always jumping up on you and muddying up your dresses with his paws. You hadn’t meant to be out so late. If you had only started back sooner, if you hadn’t been so leisurely in your pace, perhaps this never would have happened. Perhaps this is all your fault.

Hot tears run down your cheeks, and you quickly splash more water on your face to wash them away. You don’t want the others to know you’ve been crying. You’re already vulnerable enough, no need to give them further proof of your weakness. You steel yourself. No, you did nothing wrong. You weren’t the one kidnapping people as they were minding their own business, you weren’t taking daughters from their families in the night. If anyone is at fault, it is Stórr, and Einvald, and his men.

You stand and make your way to the entrance of the tent, though you hesitate, unsure if you’re expected to leave yourself, or wait to be escorted. You frown at that thought, a surge of indignation rising as you mourn the freedom to act of your own volition. Mind made up, you push your way out of the tent.

The crispness of dew hits your nose as you blink in the soft light. It’s early, and the camp is quiet save for the warbling of a few nearby birds and the ever-present hum of insects. Einvald is sitting on the log, saying something to Pínaluk, who is coaxing a new fire to life in the ashes of the pit. His voice is too low for you to make out, but he stops talking when he sees you. He motions for you to approach.

You cross the wet grass of the camp and stand before him. While last night you felt afraid, this morning has replaced the fear with resentment, and you will the bitterness out of your face. It wouldn’t do to have Einvald believe you were defying him. He might tie up your hands again, or worse. You shiver a bit as you remember the blade at his belt. Perhaps the fear has not gone entirely.

“Pínaluk will take you to the stream to bathe,” he tells you, not sparing a moment for a greeting or acknowledgement of your presence, not that you want one. Still, his curtness rankles, and you loathe him all the more for it. He flicks his gaze over you and adds, “Wash your dress as well. It’s filthy at the hem.”

It’s clear that you are dismissed, and you look at Pínaluk with a measure of trepidation. She brushes her sooty hands on her dress front, as if that will clean them, and sighs, looking at you with a put-upon expression, as if it was your fault you were imposing. You had been kidnapped for Ymir’s sake!

She walks off into the forest without a backward glance, and you hurry to keep up with her brisk pace. As you walk, you wonder what the point of all this even is. Why the bath? Sure, you are a bit dirty, a bit sweaty, but who wouldn’t be after being forced to traipse through the woods all night? And why bother with washing the dress? It isn’t like any of the men, or even Pínaluk, are particularly clean. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing seems to.

Pínaluk leads you to a small runnel where she stands off to the side, back propped against a tree trunk, with her arms folded across her chest.

The water is barely three paces wide, and looks quite shallow. You look around, nervously. The area feels so exposed, and while you’re reasonable certain that Hreinn and the others are still in camp, asleep, you don’t know. You swallow. You look at Pínaluk, but she just looks impatient. Disinterested. No use stalling, you decide.

You unfasten your best and pull the dress over your head and set it aside on a rock. You slide out of your underthings, unlace your boots, and yank them off, placing them next to the dress. Then you shuffle your bare feet to the water’s edge and take a deep breath before stepping into it.

It’s freezing cold this early, without long for the sun to warm it, and you don’t quite manage to stifle your gasp. Still, you grit your teeth as you wade in further until the water is nearly up to your knees, and you are as deep as it goes. You lean forward to dip your hands in it and feel them grow numb as their heat is swept away by the current running through them. Cupping water in your hands, you scrub your body as well and as quickly as you can. You absolutely are not going to attempt to wash your hair in the frigid stream, so when you finish, you all but run back to the shore.

Twigs and leaves crunch beneath your steps, but you cannot feel them, so frozen are your feet. Your teeth chatter a bit as you try to sweep the clinging water off your limbs and redress in your underclothes. You’re profoundly grateful that the trees are dense here and block out the worst of the wind.

Pínaluk tosses you simple white shift. You hadn’t seen her carrying it, but when you look again you notice that she is holding a sheepskin sack, and you suppose it must have been in it.

“Thank you, Pínaluk,” you say, but she doesn’t reply, she just gives you the same sour frown as always. What is her issue?

You dismiss the thought with a shake of your head, and pull the shift on over your undergarments. It’s wool, and deliciously warm, but the fibers of it rub against your body and make you itch. You shove your feet back into the lissome oxhide of your boots, fumbling to pull the laces tight and knot them.

You pick up your dress and hang it over a branch so you can knock the dried mud from the hem before you take it and hold it under the stream, letting the water run over it and wash the dirt downstream. Some spots are particularly grimy, and these you ply and work at until they loosen and fade. Once it’s as clean as you can get it, and your fingers are stiff with cold, you wring it out and drape it over your arm, looking at Pínaluk so she knows you’re ready to go back to camp.

She leads you back with the same too-fast pace as before, but she doesn’t let you out of her sight, so you can’t slip away. You wonder how fast she can run, if she’d be able to catch up to you if you took off through the forest. But surely Einvald and his men know these trees better than you do. Even if you could outrun Pínaluk, there would be no nook, no crevice you could hide yourself that they would not find you, and you could not run forever.

The fire is burning bright and tall when you arrive back at camp, and smoke rises from it in plumes. Several of the men are up and wandering around the camp, and more emerge from their tents as you cross the clearing. A few of them glance your way and a chill runs down your back as your eyes meet Hreinn’s, and you look away immediately. You’re suddenly very aware of how the shift clings to your body, how short it is. Your stomach churns.

You hang up your dress near to the fire, close enough to let it lend its heat to dry the pale blue fabric, but out of the trail of smoke. You feel overly aware of every move you make, as if you’re on display, and you try to tell yourself that you’re not the focus of everybody, but you know that they must at least be curious about you, if not worse.

You scuttle over to the log and perch on the end of it nearest the fire, ostensibly staring into the flames. Through the corners of your eyes, you glance around camp. Hreinn is nowhere to be found, and several other men are gone as well. You wonder if perhaps they have gone to bathe after all.

You catch a glimpse of pale hair and you look up at Sverrir. While his hair was loose last night, he now wears intricate, tasteful braids at his temples. He smiles at you, but he keeps his distance. This confuses you as much as it relieves you. He had seemed so smitten with you last night, so determined to impress you. What had changed? Then you remember the way Einvald had looked at him, as if in warning. Had he told Sverrir to leave you alone? If so, why? Had he said the same to the other men, the Hreinn? And what did any of this have to do with the prince?

You think about the bath, the dress, the way Einvald sized you up. Stórr’s “untouched” comment. Surely they weren’t planning on presenting you to the prince, were they? To be what? His courtesan? His whore? You’re fairly sure Prince Thor wouldn’t be interested in anything like that. He has Lady Sif, after all, and from what you know, he’s been courting her with every intent to marry.

But, you realize, Thor is not the only prince. The younger prince is much more of an unknown to you. You have no idea what Prince Loki would or wouldn’t be interested in. A pit opens up in your stomach. Just what was this royal announcement about?

Your chest feels tight and you’re dangerously close to panicking. You focus on breathing through your nose, in deeply, letting it catch in your chest, and out slowly. A few minutes later, you feel a bit more rational, but you’re still on edge. You lower your head into your hands, gripping at your hair.

Someone calls your name and you jerk your head up, startled. It’s a man who you haven’t met, swarthy and lithe, and he looks amused by your reaction. You glare at him, but he merely tosses you a small bag, never losing his toothy grin. It’s a bit attractive, actually, much as it galls you to admit. You pick up the little leather pouch deliberately and open it.

There are dried berries, a few pieces of smoked meat, and some bits of bread inside. You pick up a strip of the meat and gnaw at it. It’s tough, like leather cord, but once it softens up as you chew, it’s not too bad, and you hope some food will soothe your stomach and not further upset it. The bread is stale, probably days old, and completely unappetizing, but the berries are actually delicious. You wolf down several handfuls, and save the rest in case you get hungry later.

The hours passes slowly, and you spend them sitting mostly alone on the log, split between watching the men as they go about their camp, disregarding those who sit next to you, and staring at the trees, lost in thought. Any plan you start to form about escaping falls away unfinished. You cannot fight them, and neither can you talk your way out. These men have a vested interest in taking you to the prince. Likely money. Judging by the looks of them, and the pitiful food, these are not wealthy people, there probably is little they wouldn’t do out of desperation or greed, or, you suspect of some of them, simply because Einvald commanded it. But there has to be some other way, hasn’t there? You think of Stórr’s conviction, of how certain Einvald was that the prince would be pleased.

No. You will not let these men sell you as some whore to be used, by either prince. You will find another way. You have to.

Eventually, when you go to check the dress, it is dry beneath your touch, and you sigh in relief. Now you can put it on and have a sliver of your modesty back. While Hreinn has not tried to touch you like he had last night, you notice his eyes, along with those of some of the other men, lingering on the low cut neck of your borrowed shift, on your bare legs. You’ll be glad to be back in your familiar, comfortable, soft dress, with its long skirt, full sleeves, and the pretty embroidery that your mother stitched herself. You shake out the stiffness and carry it to Einvald’s tent to change.

You hesitate at the entrance. You’re sure Einvald is inside, and you’re not sure you want to announce your presence. He’s been relatively accommodating, but you don’t know if he’ll appreciate you intruding on him just for a place to change without exposing yourself. Perhaps you should find Pínaluk, and ask her to show you to a secluded copse of trees.

In the end, Einvald makes the choice for you.

“Come in, if you’re going to. Don’t just stand there,” he says through the tent flap, and you start.

You duck into the tent, feeling heat rise to your face. You fiddle with the dress in your arms as you gather your courage.

“Sorry, sir.” You force the words out. “I was just, I was hoping to be able to change here,” you say far too quickly.

“You wish for privacy,” he says from the bed.

“Yes, sir,” you nod, and hold your breath, waiting for his response.

He frowns, but rises.

“So be it.” He walks to the entrance. “But you’d do well not to get used to it.”

He looks at you a long moment, and you are reminded once more of what he plans to do with you. No, you’d have no privacy at all as a concubine. You look away. Your gaze falls on the seax at his belt and your eyes widen.

“Yes, sir,” you say again, somewhat distractedly.

He leaves and you hurriedly strip off the shift and throw the dress over your head. As you adjust it around you, you realize that you have no more reason to stall, and Einvald will probably want to waste as little time as possible to meet the prince and make his transaction. The thought worries you, but already you can feel the beginnings of a plan forming in your mind.

Part 3

#loki fic #loki fanfic #loki/reader #loki/you #loki x reader #loki x you #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki fandom #loki imagine #if you know where to look #bifrostgiant writes

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today-we-will-survive · 6 years ago

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Welcome to Camp Bangtan pt. 9

Summer Camp au!

Jungkook x Reader/Y/N

Fluff

Word Count: 2,119

Part 1 | Previous | Next | Master List

A/N: New parts every Tuesday and Friday!

A tap on his window had Jungkook bolting up with a racing heart. Just once he would have liked to wake up to the sun streaming in through the window. A shadowy face peered up at him from down below and he could just barely make out Y/N’s smirk as she motioned with her head for him to come outside. As quietly as he could, Jungkook crawled out of his sleeping bag, threw on a sweatshirt and pulled his shoes on. Apparently, he wasn’t quiet enough.

“Where you off to, Jungkook?” Sejin asked from his cot in the corner.

Jungkook froze halfway to the door. “Just…to the bathroom,” he said.

Sejin let out a tired sigh then was silent for a second. Jungkook knew he was going to say something about taking a buddy along. It was a rule and, after all, he was responsible for everyone in this cabin. Finally, he just fell back down onto his mattress. “Alright,” he croaked. “Just be careful.”

Jungkook slipped outside and met Y/N there in the middle of the circle. “What’s going on?” he asked rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her puffy vest and smiled mischievously. “Tae wanted me to come get you. He’s waiting for you down at the Dock.”

“Why does he want me to come down to the Dock?” Jungkook narrowed his eyes feeling stupid for not noticing Taehyung’s bunk had been empty.

Y/N shrugged and looked up at the trees, a deliberate grin on her face. Obviously, she knew something was up. “I guess we’ll just have to go and find out, won’t we?”

Jungkook wanted to argue. He wanted to go back to bed. But she just looked so dang cute there smiling at him with those eyes shining and her warm, puffy vest, how could he say no? “Alright, fine,” he said with a sigh and Y/N bunched her shoulders triumphantly before starting toward the main path.

Jungkook followed behind her with his hands shoved deep in the pocket of his sweatshirt. Even being the middle of summer, it was cold out and he was having a hard time not shivering.

“So, Taehyung is definitely an interesting character, isn’t he,” Jungkook said trying to start some sort of conversation as they cut across to go toward the Pit.

Y/N laughed. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” she said and started up the stairs to the other side of the amphitheater. “Tae is a special guy,” she said. Jungkook bet she’d never say something like that to his face but he could hear the genuine love she had for her brother in her voice. “He’s brilliant. He just tends to get very focused on certain things.” They were walking now on the path leading to the East Cabins.

“What types of things?” Jungkook asked her.

Y/N’s and his hands were dangling at their sides now and they brushed. He didn’t know if it was accidental or on purpose on her part but it sent a jolt of electricity up his arm and goosebumps peppered his skin. “Sorry,” he uttered.

“No, it’s okay,” she said with a smile and her fingers brushed his again. This time, though, she didn’t pull back. Instead, hers wrapped around his fingers and her palm pressed against his, warm and soft. Jungkook’s heart was seriously jackhammering by this point.

“Anyway,” she continued shyly. “Uh…right. He gets focused on something to the point that he gets obsessed with it. Our parents think he has ADHD but I think he’s just a determined guy, ya know?”

Jungkook could barely comprehend what she was saying. He was holding hands with the prettiest girl in the world. Maybe Jin was right. There was a prize to be won. And I won it. “Uh… yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Okay, we have to be quiet now or we might wake up the East Siders,” she said with a whisper and gave his hand an emphasizing squeeze.

Jungkook was silent after that letting her pull him along. The cabins were eerily silent making a shiver crawl up his spine. He felt much better once they got past them and onto the old path. It was creepy at night but Jungkook felt a hundred times braver with Y/N’s hand in his.

They were still quiet even after they were out of earshot of the cabins. He didn’t know about her but he was just too nervous to open his mouth. It took everything in him just to remember to breathe.

When they got to the Dock, the first thing Jungkook saw was a ring of battery powered lanterns down toward the end. Taehyung stood in the center of them with a flashlight in his hands shining up toward his face.

“Seriously?” Jungkook asked noticing the creepy look on his face. Y/N pulled her hand out of his leaving his fingers suddenly feeling cold.

“Tae’s a little extra.”

“Apparently.”

Jungkook made his way toward the boy, slowing to a halt when he saw the sinister look in his eyes. “What…is…up, Taehyung?” he asked him cautiously.

“I want to tell you a little story, Kook,” he said calmly then gestured for him to step into the circle.

Jungkook stuffed his hands in his sweatshirt pocket. “I’m not coming anywhere near you, dude.”

Taehyung dropped his hand holding the flashlight and rolled his eyes. “Just humor me, man,” he said.

With a sigh, Jungkook stepped into the circle and Taehyung immediately brought his light back up to his face. “Has anyone ever told you about the Cabin?”

Jungkook turned to look back at Y/N and quirked an eyebrow. She gave him an amused smile and a nod of encouragement. “No, I guess I haven’t heard of the Cabin. And why is everything around here a proper noun?”

“Well,” he continued excitedly choosing to ignore the last statement. “It all happened fifty-ish years ago. This guy kidnapped the children of several prominent families in hopes of collecting the ransom money. It was going to be simple. He would get the money, return the kids to their parents and then walk away, a rich man. This kidnapper took these poor little children to a cabin in the woods. A cabin that resides on the other side of the lake.” The boy lowered his head so he was peering at Jungkook out of the tops of his eyes. “Then something went wrong,” he continued, his deep voice dipping deeper. “The children were never returned to their parents. They froze to death or died of starvation. At least that’s what everyone must assume since they were never found. Awful, right?” he asked but when Jungkook opened his mouth, Taehyung continued on before he could speak. “Of course it’s awful!”

“Of course it is,” Y/N echoed from behind him and Jungkook looked at her. She shrugged.

“This cabin,” Jungkook said, licking his lips anxiously. “Is on the other side of the lake?” He could feel his heart quickening. “Where we’re forbidden to go alone?”

Taehyung smiled as if this was exactly what he wanted to hear. “Yes, Kook. Somewhere on the other side is the Cabin and somewhere in that cabin are the bones of these children.”

“Little bitty bones,” Y/N whispered dramatically from behind him and again he turned to meet her amused smile.

“No one has been able to find them. Many people believe there’s a trap door leading to a system of tunnels underground and the bones are in there.” Then he leaned in way too close so their noses almost touched. “And I’m going to find them.” With that, his face went dark as he clicked his flashlight off, their surroundings now lit only by the dim lanterns around them.

Jungkook wasn’t sure what Taehyung wanted him to do now so he just stood there. A couple seconds later, Taehyung’s face lit up again as he turned his flashlight back on. “Want to help me?” he asked.

This was obviously what Y/N had been talking about when she’d said he became obsessed with things easily. Taehyung shined the light now in Jungkook’s face and he squinted and put his hand up to block it from his eyes. Jungkook could just barely make out the boy’s silhouette from behind the bright light. “If I say yes, will you turn that thing back off?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes!” he yelled and everything went dark again.

As his eyes adjusted, Jungkook saw the familiar boxy smile stretch across Taehyung’s face, his eyes shining eagerly. “Awesome,” he said.

“Is this whole production over now?” Jungkook asked him gesturing toward all the lanterns on the ground.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said and bent down to start picking them up. Y/N and Jungkook helped him and pretty soon they had them all rounded up and turned off. While Taehyung carried them all back in his bag, Y/N and Jungkook walked a little bit behind him.

“So this cabin,” Jungkook said with his hands in his pockets. “It’s really this big mystery, huh?”

“It is for Tae,” Y/N said. “And he loves recruiting new members for his search party.” She said this last part loud enough for him to hear.

“I can’t wait to do this all for Rosé tomorrow night,” Taehyung called from in front of them. “Maybe I’ll add some rose petals. Dang it, where am I going to find rose petals?”

“Rosé already knows, Tae,” Y/N said interrupting his thinking out loud.

Taehyung whirled around to face them. “She knows?” he asked, his face falling.

Y/N shrugged. “I already told her,” she said glancing at Jungkook.

“Did you at least do the flashlight thing?” he asked hopefully and brought the light he was using up under his chin.

“I just sent her a text the night before we got here.”

Taehyung let out a dramatic groan. “You’re killing me, Y/N,” he whined into his hands. “You are literally killing me.”

She just continued to look at Jungkook as her mouth curled up into a smile.

The three of them made their way back down the path toward their cabins. Taehyung sulked in front of Y/N and Jungkook, cradling his bundle of lanterns like they might bring him comfort in this time of absolute betrayal. Y/N and Jungkook walked slower, the silence electric between them as they both waited hopefully for the other to reach out and touch their hand.

Well, since she did it the first time, I guess it’s my turn, right? How am I supposed to do this? Do I just grab her hand? Or do I take the “oops” approach and “accidentally” brush my hand against hers and maybe our fingers will snag and then we’ll just roll with it? Or does she like the more confident approach? I’m thinking way too much into this.

He could feel her eyes land on him every few steps they took as if she was just waiting for him to do something. Anything. Okay, Kook. Just do it. Just reach over and take her hand.

Y/N cleared her throat and suddenly her fingers were squeezing his and all he could think to do was squeeze back. Her warm palm pressed against his and the crevices between his fingers touched the crevices between her fingers and he could feel the tip of his pointer finger with his thumb and they were holding hands. Jungkook felt himself sigh with relief and then Y/N let out a puff of air like a laugh and his ears began to burn.

When they stepped back into their group of cabins, Jungkook felt suddenly like a changed person. Now, he knew this secret, now he’d held this beautiful girl’s hand—which he was still holding with very clammy fingers. He felt different.

Taehyung didn’t even look behind him as he snuck back into the cabin leaving Jungkook and Y/N alone in the silence.

“Thanks for being such a good sport,” Y/N said quietly. “I know Tae can be over the top but he wouldn’t be doing all this if he didn’t really like you.”

Jungkook smiled and looked down at their still intertwined fingers. “I really like…him too,” he uttered and brushed his thumb across the smooth skin on the back of her hand.

Before he could react, Y/N lifted onto her toes and touched her lips to his cheek. “Goodnight, Jungkook,” she whispered before giving him a warm smile, her hand sliding out of his. He could only watch in stunned silence as she walked quickly back toward her cabin and slipped inside.

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wandering-bard-from-the-id · 6 years ago

Text

Daughters of Arendelle - Chapter 34

Greetings all,

I apologize for the long delay in updates. This is the first of three, with hopefully two more to follow soon.

Chapters 1 - 33 are at FF.Net.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12222767/1/Daughters-of-Arendelle

Chapter 34

Sept. 14, 1840

Anna held the girl sitting on the saddle before her with one hand as she guided Kjekk with the other. Behind her a little boy clung to her waist. She kept pace with the wagon full of orphans, bumping over the dirt road.

People hurried pass heading for town or up the ridge into the mountains. They gave quick, often, startled greetings as they passed the Princess. Anna met each with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

As they rounded a small curve atop the ridge, the ocean beyond the fjord came into view. Smoke curled into the clear sky along the horizon. It was all that could be seen of the distant sea battle. How many ships have we lost? Her eyes cut to the wagon load of children. How many orphans will be made today? Anger stirred, dredging up old feelings best not revisited. Before they could take hold, she drove them back. There would be time for such things later. More immediate issues needed her attention.

Four ships formed a perfect line as they sped toward the fjord. The Lienz’s flag fluttered atop the lead ship. In the distance, familiar green and purple marked the Agdar. It was gaining on the last ship.

In the streets below a sea of people, wagons and carts flooded the town square. One group pushed toward the castle bridge as the other attempted to reach the main road out of town. The confusion was made worse by soldiers trying to move equipment to their posts. Faints shouts and animal cries echoed over the town.

An overwhelming weight settled upon Anna’s shoulders at the sight. How were we going to get all these people out of the streets before the ships arrive? What if they get pass the gate? Her gaze turned to the fjord towers. Suspended between them hung a heavy chain gate, blocking the entrance, protecting Arendelle as it had for generations. No, the gate will hold. She offered a silent prayer to whoever might be listening, please, let it hold.

Now would be a really good time for you to come home, Elsa. The thought brought with it a twinge of guilt. She knew if Elsa were able she would have returned. Which meant she wasn’t able. Thoughts of her sister and Kristoff laying wounded or worse caused her chest to ache. It eased as her gaze settled on the glistening snowflake atop the castle. Where ever Elsa was, she was alive. Her thoughts turned to Kristoff. The ache returned.

“Your Highness?”

Startled from her thoughts Anna turned to find Captain Morten at her side. She smiled at him, feeling some of the tension ease in her shoulders. He’d always had a calming effect on her. She suspected it was one of the reasons her father had put him in charge of her guard detail. “Yes, Captain?”

“Those ships are less than an hour out, ma’am. I suggest we make haste for the castle.”

“How?” She gestured toward the town. “The square is packed all the way to the castle bridge.”

“I can have the men clear a path.”

“No. That will just make matters worse. We’ll stay this course for now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He hesitated. “Princess Anna, if the ships breech the fjord gate we will need to get you to the castle. You cannot be in the streets should they reach the docks.”

She started to wave him off with an assurance that would never happen. The words died on her lips as the lead ship drew closer. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that, Captain.”

“Let’s hope not, ma’am.” He dipped his head to her, easing his horse away.

Below frightened souls rushed about, seeking safety and shelter. Her mother’s words whispered, ‘You are a Royal Princess, in times of need, the people will look to you for reassurance and guidance. If you show strength and courage, it will ease their fears and give them hope.’ Hope. She embraced the word, clinging to it.

Her gaze drifted to the snowflake. I know you’ll come home, Elsa. We need you. She hugged the child closer, pressing a light kiss atop her head. I need you.

0000

Tollak waited on the beach as the first of four long boats paddled toward him. Each rode low in the water with the weight of a dozen or, so men piled aboard them.

As the first boat glided ashore, Prince Hans rose to stand in the bow. With the wind sweeping back his auburn hair, he looked the part of a conquering hero.

Soldiers jumped into the surf and pulled the boat ashore. Once it was resting on sand, Hans leapt over the side, avoiding the breaking waves.

The men cleared the first boat, as a second one came ashore.

With a hand resting on his sword hilt, Hans strolled toward Tollak.

“Welcome to Arendelle, Your Highness.” Tollak sank into a formal bow. “I trust your trip went well.”

Hans acknowledged the bow with a nod of his head. “Thanks to your efforts, Colonel, it was a success.” He turned to the officer trailing behind him. “Send the boats back for more troops and get the men ready to move out immediately.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” With a quick bow the man hurried away.

“Why hasn’t Sigrid started his attack on the city? Our ships need artillery support.”

“He never made it over the mountains, Your Highness.” Tollak didn’t cower under Hans’ glare. “It would appear the Witch drove his army away in defeat.”

“What?! What of the cannons?” Gloved hands curled into fists as Hans’ jaw clenched.

Tollak shook his head. “Destroyed by the Witch. A scout arrived last night with news of the army’s defeat.” He hurried on as Hans’ face grew flushed. “There is some good news. Earl Swart’s men were able to ambush the Witch, and her guard on the mountain. Most of her men were either killed or wounded. I’ve received several reports confirming she was wounded during the fight, but too what extent I cannot say. There has been no word from her since before the battle with Sigrid. It appears she is either unwilling or unable to return.”

“Hiding somewhere licking her wounds perhaps?” Anger softened into amusement as Hans’ fists unclenched.

“Perhaps. With any luck she’s wolf fodder.” Tollak shrugged.

Hans’ lips eased into a smirk. “And what of little Anna?” The smirk widened into a sadistic smile.

“She spent the night pining over her sister. When I left, she was leading her guard detail into town to help evacuate the townspeople.”

“How heroic.” Hans scoffed.

“Yes, her theatrics should make things easier for us. My men have orders to capture her before she can return to the castle.”

“Do they understand we need her alive, at least, until we’re certain Elsa’s dead?”

“They understand, sir.”

“Good.”

“Once the witch is dead, what are your plans for the Princess?”

With a gloved hand Hans brushed some dirt from his jacket. “I’ll keep her around as long as she is useful. Who knows, we might even produce an heir to cement my claim to the throne.” He chuckled. “Course, it’s more likely I’ll slit the little chatter box’s throat within a week.”

An heir? Tollak’s hand tightened on his sword hilt. From the moment he learned of Elsa’s magic he’d known the Princess would have to be sacrificed. Her blind devotion to her sister had robbed her of all reason. Even if she could be made to see the truth, there was still the risk of her passing on tainted blood. No, there can be no direct heirs to the Crocus throne. He would see to that.

There would be time to deal with the Princess later. First, more pressing matters needed to be addressed. “Should the witch return, I trust you found what you were looking for to, deal with her.” Tollak asked.

Gloved fingertips traced over a gold chain suspended around Hans’ neck. Tollak thought he could see the outline of a disk beneath the man’s vest.

“Yes, I found it.”

“Do you think it will be enough to stop her?”

“It will stop her,” Hans smirked. “and even if it doesn’t kill her. It will slow her down enough for more, traditional methods.” He patted the sword at his hip.

“Your Highness.” The officer stepped to Hans’ side. “The men are ready, sir.”

“Good.” Hans grabbed the bottom of his jacket and straightened it with a sharp tug. “Come, Colonel, it’s time to introduce the people to their king.”

0000

Along the main road, single homes had given way to clusters of houses, lining both sides of the street. Tucked between the houses stood a stone, two-story guard tower. Long ago it had marked the outer limits of the town. Over time the town had spread beyond it.

Two grim faced soldiers watched from the tower windows as the crowd passed below. One slapped the other with the back of a hand, pointing at Anna’s group. Both straightened, tugging at their uniform jackets as they came to attention. They offered the proper salute as the Royal Princess and her men shuffled past with the crowd.

Amused by their antics, Anna acknowledged them with a warm smile and dip of her head.

Side streets leading from the docks had been barricaded with sandbags, in preparation for the coming battle. Along the docks, soldiers were making ready to defend the town.

Unable to spread out, wagons, carts and people, created a bottleneck in the narrow street. Any other day Anna could have sprinted the distance to the square with ease. From atop her horse, she could see no clear path through the sea of people separating her from the town square. Resigned to the situation she prodded along with the crowd.

Every so often a frightened soul would rush to Anna’s side or shout at her over the crowd, with questions about the enemy or their missing Queen. She remained steadfast in her assurances that all was being done to defend against the enemy, and the Queen would return as soon as she was able.

If any doubted her, they had the good sense to keep it to themselves. Every time someone mentioned Elsa, Anna stole a glance at the castle spiral. The icy snowflake strengthened her resolve.

Several feet ahead the wheel of an overloaded cart snapped, dropping it to the cobblestones with a sharp crash. Belongings scattered over the street, as the cart owner was thrown to the ground. Dazed by the fall, the man lay groaning in the street.

With a section of the street blocked, the crowd slowed to a crawl. Several people stopped to help the man, others hurried on, trying to slip through the narrow pathway.

“Help him.” Anna ordered the guardsmen closes to her.

Peder and Arian slipped from their horses, rushing to the man. They drug him from the road, propping him against a wall, safe from the trample of feet and hooves.

“Normund, Lauris, let’s clear the road.” Morten ordered, dismounting his horse.

The men dismounted and set about getting the cart out of the way. Several townspeople moved in to help. Among them a woman, Anna recognized as the blacksmith’s daughter, stepped up to Adrian.

His face turned an alarming shade of red as he strained against the cart to no avail. She pulled him up by the collar of his jacket, nearly taking him off his feet. With a sweet smile she stepped into his spot.

Adrian’s smile mirrored hers. He ran a hand over the back of his neck, ducking his head as she blew him a kiss.

Bare arms rippled with thick muscles as she pulled against the weight of the cart. The smile never left her lips.

Adrian’s eyes widen at the display. The tips of his ears grew red. With a nervous chuckle, he set about clearing debris from the roadway.

Anna bit back a laugh at the couple’s antics. Several days before, Adrian had confided in her, he was going to propose after the festival. His ears had glowed bright red when Anna smothered him in a crushing hug.

Joy at the memory died as Anna’s gaze was drawn to the approaching ships. Thanks to Hans, there had been no proposal. Bastard. Her teeth ground against the rush of hatred brought on by the thought of him.

Kjekk snorted, tossing his head as a boy bumped against his legs, in a rush to slip through the crowd.

“Easy, boy.” Anna patted his neck till he stopped prancing, though his breathing remained uneven. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you into the wagon.” Anna lifted the girl off her lap, handing her off to one of the older children in the bed of the wagon. “You too.” She reached for the boy seated behind her.

His arms tightened around her waist. “No. I want to stay with you.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. Kjekk is getting a little jumpy. I don’t want to risk him throwing you.” Like he throws you? Elsa’s voice was so clear, Anna caught herself looking for her in the crowd. Shaking off the thought, she pried his arms loose. “A little help, please.”

Two older boys wrestled him off the horse.

“No!” He began kicking as they pulled him into the wagon.

“Hey.” Anna leaned in to catch his gaze. “Once this is over you can ride back with me, okay?”

He plopped down on the lap of one of the teenage girls, crossing his arms over his chest. “Okay.”

Anna chuckled, at his flushed, scrunched up face. “Viktoria?”

From the wagon seat Viktoria turned to her. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“Once you reach the castle courtyard take the children to the West wing entrance. Gerda has set up rooms for them there. If anyone tries to stop you, tell them you’re working under my direct orders.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Anna raised up in the stirrups for a better view. The square was still a good distance off, but it appeared the crowd there was starting to thin out. Free of the narrow streets, people were able to pass the slow-moving wagons and carts. If they could get pass the bottleneck they should have no trouble reaching the castle.

The cart owner stumbled to his feet and picked up a satchel from his scattered belongings. He slung it over his shoulder, before squeezing in next to one of the guardsmen to help lift.

Cannon fire rumbled over the town. Startled screams were followed by the cries of frightened children. The crowd surged forward. They only gained a few feet before compressing into an unmoving mass.

More people stepped in to help move the cart. It began to inch forward.

Anna turned in the saddle to check the road behind them. Stragglers hurried to catch up to the crowd. Mothers with small children, older folks and others who were unable to keep pace. They appeared from side streets in a desperate race to reach the castle.

“You two, come with me.” Anna didn’t wait for an answer as she turned Kjekk, easing him through the crowd.

Exchanging uncertain looks, two guardsmen fell in behind her.

“Start loading people into the wagons. We need to help anyone who can’t keep up.” Free of the crowd she spurred Kjekk forward.

The next side street offered Anna a glimpse of the docks and ocean. Along the docks, soldiers hurried about with weapons and sandbags. Beyond the fjord gate, clouds of smoke drifted from the rear Lienz ship. Its mast leaned at an odd angle.

With a sharp turn the Agdar laid low on its starboard side, before righting itself to come alongside the damaged ship. Smoke filled the air a moment before the roar of a dozen cannons reached the town. Anna bit back a frustrated curse, as she lost sight of the ships behind a row of houses.

She hurried toward a teenage girl carrying a little girl on her back. Anna recognized them as the daughters of one of the kitchen maids.

The youngest clung to her sister’s neck, trying not to cry out at the jarring of her bandaged leg. It had been a week since she’d broken the leg falling from a tree.

Behind Anna the crowd cheered as the cart was wrestled from the street. With the street cleared, the crowd surge forward, leaving the stragglers further behind.

Anna pulled Kjekk to a stop and reached down, taking the younger girl’s arm. “Come on.” The older girl helped lift her sister onto the saddle in front of Anna. With her in place, Anna held out a hand to the older girl. She removed her foot from the stirrup, so the girl could step into it. With a grunt she pulled herself up behind Anna.

Thin arms wrapped around Anna’s waist. She turned Kjekk and galloped to the wagon.

Peder and Lauris sped past her. Each taunting the other as they raced to collect stragglers. Any other time the brother’s playful banter would have amused her. She found it a painful reminder of Elsa’s absence.

Reaching the wagon, she handed off the sisters. They settled into the wagon, the younger one climbing into her sister’s lap, to be embraced in a smothering hug.

Anna’s chest tightened at the sight. She turned away before the feeling could overwhelm her. At the far end of the street she spied a woman, carrying a small child, while dragging another by the arm. She tapped Kjekk’s flanks and galloped toward them.

“Princess Anna! Wait!” Morten’s voice cried over the ringing of Kjekk’s horseshoes. She tucked lower in the saddle, urging the horse on.

Her men continued to crisscross between the stragglers and the wagons.

Kjekk’s ears laid back as more cannon fire rumbled over the town. He pulled up short, throwing Anna forward in the saddle. Her fingers dug deep into his mane. Momentum carried her forward, wrenching her arm as she fought to stay atop the horse. The last thing she needed was for Elsa to find out she’d been thrown, again.

Wide eyed and snorting, Kjekk pranced in place. Anna managed to calm him enough to allow her to slip from the saddle. She led him to a lamppost and tied off the reins. “Easy boy, nobody’s going to hurt you.” He pressed into her hand as she stroked his nose. “You stay here, I’ll be back shortly, then we can go home. Okay?”

Kjekk snorted.

“Good boy.” With a final pat she hurried toward the mother and children.

Without missing a step, she scooped the child up in her arms, and caught the mother by the elbow. “Come on.”

Startled to find the Royal Princess at her side, the woman stared slack jawed as she was led toward the wagon. Half way there Normund rode up.

“Captain Morten sent me to get you, ma’am.”

“Take them.”

“Princess Anna,” The large man shook his head. “my orders…”

“Normund, please. I’ll be right behind you. I just need to get Kjekk.” Her lips pulled back in a mischievous grin. “Don’t make me order you.”

He reached out a hand. “I’m going to be mucking out stables for the rest of my life.”

Anna chuckled at his grumbling. “Thank you, Normund. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” She lifted the child.

Resigned to his fate, Normund pulled the child onto his lap.

Anna held the infant while the mother climbed on the back of the horse. Once she was in place, Anna handed up the baby.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Tears glistened in the mother’s eyes as the horse sped away.

“Your welcome.” Anna turned and hurried to Kjekk. She pulled the reins free. “Alright, boy, let’s go home.” As she raised her foot toward the stirrup cannon fire cracked.

Kjekk shied away, prancing and tossing his head.

Anna stumbled, managing to catch her balance before falling face first on the street. “Dammit, Kjekk, behave!” She drew a breath to settle her frustration. “Easy, boy.” It took some effort to pull his head down, so she could rub his nose. Soft, whispered words helped some.

She glanced over her shoulder to find the wagon, and most of the crowd had reached the square. Several of her men were riding toward her.

Rapid cannon fire echoed through the town. With a whinny Kjekk reared. Caught off guard, Anna felt the reins slip through her fingers.

“Kjekk! Wait!” The horse bolted toward the castle. Anna took a couple of steps after him, reaching out in vain. Her fists clenched, coming to her sides, as she watched him race past her men. “Elsa’s right! I’m getting a new horse!”

Halvor sped toward her, Morten followed close behind. They were shouting something she couldn’t hear over the ringing of horseshoes. “What?!”

An arm circled her waist, lifting her in one swift motion. “Hey!”

The world spun a moment before she found herself sitting across the lap of a soldier she didn’t recognize. Something about his demeanor made her neck hairs stand on end.

“Put me down!” She struggled against the arm at her waist. It tightened, pulling her closer to the man. Her nose crinkled at the stink of onions and stale breath.

“Shut up, and sit still, or I’ll knock you silly.”

His heavy Russian accent, coupled with the threat, caught her off guard. Whoever the man was, he was not a member of the guard.

She grabbed his jacket to steady herself as he turned the horse away from town. As they turned Anna spied another group of riders approaching from the ridge. Their green uniforms did little to ease her concerns. She could hear her men shouting over the clatter of horseshoes on cobblestone as they gave chase.

The hairs along the back of her neck were singing. Something told her if they reached the riders, she would never make it home. There was only one thing to do, find a way off the horse.

She wrapped both hands in the man’s jacket and leaned back. In one swift motion, she jerked him forward as she slammed into his face with a head butt. The blow caused her helmet to chime with a dull ding.

Blood flew from his shattered nose, and at least one tooth sailed away. Unconscious, the man rolled backwards off the horse. With her hands tangled in his jacket Anna fell with him. She managed to land on top of him as they struck the street.

She rolled several times before coming to rest on her back. Her knees and elbows stung from bruises and scrapes. Who’s ringing that bell? She silently cursed the unknown assailant, as she lay staring up at the sky. It was a lovely shade of blue.

“Princess Anna!”

The ringing grew closer as she raised her head to find Halvor leaping from his horse. He moves fast for a bear, she chuckled at the thought.

Thick, strong arms scooped her up, causing the world to spin. Anna bit back a yelp, squeezing her eyes shut against a wave of nausea. She wrapped her arms around Halvor’s neck, as he mounted the horse, settling her across his lap.

As her mind began to clear, she realized the ringing wasn’t bells, but horseshoes against cobblestones. Over Halvor’s shoulder she spied the riders. They were drawing closer.

Several horses surrounded her. She relaxed a little as she recognized Arian and Normund. Behind her Morten’s voice carried over the ringing.

“Head for the guard tower!”

Anna nodded as if she had any control over where the horse was going. She held tight to Halvor as bullets began to whiz pass. “Keep moving!” Morten shouted over the deafening clatter.

0000

“Why are we stopping?” Elsa gave a light tug on Vor’s reins, to avoid crashing into the horse in front of her.

The blond-haired guard cocked his head to one side. “Do you hear that?”

In the quiet of the forest, a thumping sound grew louder.

With a tilt of her head Elsa listened. There was something familiar about the sound.

Riders.

Ice stirred as her heart began to race.

The thumping grew into a low rumble. Elsa flinched as a rifle volley cracked in the distance. Ice coated the reins clutched in her hands as a second volley answered the first. With some effort she pulled the ice back. It rested just beneath her palms.

The blond guard coaxed his horse to the crest of a nearby ridge. “Your Majesty, I think you should see this.”

Elsa gave Vor’s flanks a light tap, moving her to the man’s side.

Far below she could see sunlight reflecting off ice barricades. Behind the barricades green dots darted about. She leaned forward, straining to see. “Do either of you have a spyglass?”

“I do, ma’am.” The dark-haired guard rode up on her opposite side, pulling a glass from the leather pouch on his saddle. He handed it to her.

With a quick snap, Elsa opened it, and brought it to her eye. She missed the look shared by the scouts, as their hands eased toward sword hilts.

Green uniforms lined the barricade, firing on the riders. Several guardsmen darted about within the protective circle. Two men carried a small wooden keg to an empty section of the ice wall. They knelt, disappearing from Elsa’s line of sight.

She adjusted the glass, to no avail. Her brow furrowed as she waited for them to reappear. Both men stood and began running to the far side of the barricade. Curls of white smoke drifted from beneath the wall.

Elsa’s eyes widened as she realized what they had done. “No…”

Ice, dirt and men were sent sailing as the keg exploded. The blast ripped through the ice, leaving a jagged opening. Even from a distance, Elsa could feel the ground shake. She caught the reins with one hand, to bring Vor under control.

The sharp twang of swords being drawn, brought a silent curse to her lips. Ice coated the spyglass as she dropped it, twisting to face the blond-haired guard.

Her lips pulled back into a primal snarl as ice leapt from her palms. The force of the blow sent him, and his raised sword sailing. He flipped backwards off the horse, landing face down in the dirt.

The blow had been impressive. Elsa never saw it. As the ice left her hands, sharp steel sliced across her ribs.

White hot pain cut through her side, drawing her double. The forest echoed with her scream. Without looking back Elsa threw out a hand, releasing a blast of ice. She was rewarded with a grunt, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.

Doubled over she clung to the wound. Her eyes squeezed shut against the pain and tears. Dammit! I knew those bastards couldn’t be trusted. Yet, you dropped your guard against them. Mocked an all too familiar voice. Shut up. Silent curses faded as her vision darkened. Unable to keep her balance, she slipped from the saddle. Pain shot through her body as she landed on the forest floor with a hard jolt. Tears flowed freely as she rolled onto her back, clutching at the wound. Blood seeped through her fingers.

She struggled to breathe against the pain. It was unlike any she had experienced before. Her hand trembled as she lifted it to examine the wound. There was so much blood. Her blood.

Oh, God, no. She clamped her hand against the wound, willing the blood to stop. Crimson rivets trickled down her side into the dirt. It can’t end here, not like this. Hot tears stung her cheeks.

Somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind, the familiar voice whispered. Perhaps, it would be best if it did. She cried out against the thought. Far too many times over the years it had whispered to her. Coaxing her to the edge of a line, she’d never had the courage to cross.

You’ve failed, again. Lies, betrayal, treason, those will be the legacy of the Snow Queen’s reign. Your reign.

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, willing the voice to go away. It was replaced by another. What if she was, destine to die alone in the deep woods? Alone. Pain turned to bitter tears. I don’t want to die alone. Ice crept out from beneath her. Tears gave way to sobs. Each sending a new wave of pain through her side.

“I…sorry…papa.” She had failed, as a daughter, an heir, a sister. Sister.

Anna.

The smiling glimmer of hope, in Elsa’s darkness. Somewhere in the chaos of despair she could hear light laughter. As it had done countless times before, the sound guided her back to the light.

Sobs softened to whimpers. The pain in her side ease to a bearable throb. Through the tears she looked skyward. Between the branches she could see patches of sky. It was a lovely shade of blue.

As her mind began to clear she became aware of gunfire in the distance. Traitors. Anger began to push back the pain. If they touch my sister… Ice raced through her veins at the thought. She made no effort to stop it. I must get home.

She closed her eyes, focusing her ice on the wound. An icy bandage formed, she bit her lip to hold back a cry.

There was a groan nearby.

Elsa’s eyes fluttered open at the sound. She raised her head to find the dark-haired scout climbing to his feet.

Blood stained his uniform, marking where an ice shard had cut deep across his side. Elsa felt no guilt for inflicting the wound. He picked up his sword and staggered toward her.

Anger spread through her riding the ice flowing to her fingertips. She rose to an elbow, ignoring the pain the movement brought. Blood dripped from the fingertips of her raised hand.

The scout stopped mid-step as their eyes locked. Silence hung in the clearing as they glared at each other.

Traitor. “Why, would you betray your oath?” Ice began to pulse over her raised hand.

“I will not have my children raised under the banner of a witch!” His grip tightened on the sword. “If that means killing a monster like you, then so be it.”

If he noticed Elsa’s flinch he didn’t say.

She had noticed he eased a little closer. “What kind of a monster kills his brothers? You are a traitor to your uniform, your oath and the people of Arendelle!” Ice and anger helped hold the pain at bay.

“I know the sins I’ve committed, but, killing you won’t be listed among them.” He took two steps forward, pulling back as the air popped with sparks.

“Hans doesn’t care about you or your family. All he wants is a crown.” Spots began to dance before her eyes. She resisted the urge to shake them away.

“Perhaps, but at least, I won’t have to worry about him freezing me to death.”

The words cut deep, stealing Elsa’s breath away. Her ice began to quiet. “You have my word, that will never happen again.”

“Your word?” He began to laugh.

The sound made Elsa’s skin crawl.

“I’ve seen how dangerous you are, Your Majesty. I’m not betting my family’s lives on your empty promises.”

“The people need…”

“What do you know of the people’s needs?! They need someone who will protect them!”

“You speak of protecting the people, while betraying them to an invading army! What of your oath and duty?”

“Don’t speak to me of duty.” He drew a step closer. “You’ve hidden from your duties for years! Your father chose you over his duty to the people.” He leveled the sword at her. “The day he locked the gates, we should have drug the lot of you into the streets. Four slit throats would have been a small price to end this madness. But, I’m willing to settle for two.”

All emotion slipped from Elsa’s face. Within her veins the ice paused. From deep in the pit of her stomach a strange warmth began to build. “Don’t you dare speak of my father, traitor. You know nothing of the sacrifices he, and my mother made.” The warmth began to build into a controlled rage.

“You stand here mocking him, while your fellow turncoats conspire to destroy the very lands you are sworn to protect.” Yellow magic began to glow over her hand. “Know this, as Queen and Protector of this Domain, I will see you, and every traitor who has raised a hand against their fellow countrymen, hanged for your crimes.”

She caught the shift in his weight as he leaned forward. His knuckles whitened as they tightened around the sword hilt. Her eyes narrowed. An eerie sense of calm settled over her. “I warn you, if you bastards harm so much as a hair upon my sister’s head, I will make you beg for the relief of hell’s fire.”

The man’s lips curled back with a snarl. He leapt forward, raising the sword over his head. “Go to hell, witch!”

Ice exploded from Elsa’s hand in a blinding yellow flash. “I am not a witch!” The blast sent him sailing across the clearing. His body slammed into a tree trunk with a heavy thud. Unconscious he slid to the ground in a crumbled heap.

Nausea and dizziness swept over Elsa. She drew quick, short breaths in a failed attempt to ease the pain overwhelming her. Unable to fight off the darkness creeping in, she collapsed onto her back.

In the distance she could hear rifle fire, over the cries of wounded men. She clutched the wound squeezing her eyes shut. Tears slipped free to trail into her hair. No, have…to…get…home… she fell still as the darkness claimed her.

#frozen #elsa #anna #kristoff #daughters of Arendelle #snow sisters #ice bros

4 notes · View notes

bfxenon · 4 years ago

Text

The Link Building Webslog

Posted by rjonesx.

This is not the link building article you — or really anyone — were probably hoping for. It isn't a step-by-step guide to getting the best backlinks, it isn't some list of hot tips or new opportunities, and it isn't the announcement of some great tool. What it is, unashamedly, is a window into the brutal slog that is outreach-based link building.

What can you expect?

1. YELLING IN CAPSLOCK.

2. Some tips and tricks.

3. Weeping and gnashing of teeth

Courtesy Some Ecards

All kidding aside, one of the few aphorisms I’ve come to believe is that sharing how we do things as SEOs is almost never a problem, because 99% of people don't have the follow-through and resources to make it happen. I would love to be proven wrong by the readers on Moz.

My goal here is to give a realistic understanding of the monotonous slog that is white-hat, outreach-based link building. I happen to think that link building is a perfect counterexample to the "Pareto Principle". Unlike the Pareto Principle, which states that 80% of the effect comes from 20% of the cause, I find that unless you put in 60-80% of the effort, you won't see more than 20% of the potential effect. The payoff comes when you have outworked your competitors, and I promise you they are putting in more than 20%.

Courtesy Quotiss

The goal of this "Webslog" is to document the weeks and months that go into a link building campaign, at least as far as how I go about the process.

Courtesy Aaron Burden

Also, look at that gorgeous fountain pen. I frickin' love fountain pens.

I will try and update this document every week or so with progress reports, my motivation level, the tips and tricks I’ve employed over the last few days, the headaches, wins, and losses. By the end of this, I hope to have accomplished something along the lines of a link building journal. It won’t be a blueprint for link building success, but hopefully it will mark on the map of your link building journey the things to avoid, the best way to get through certain jams, and when you’re just going to have to tough it out.

Journal Entry Day One

Day one is almost always the best day. It’s a preparation day. It's the day you buy the gym membership, purchase a veritable ton of whey protein and protein shaker bottles, weigh yourself — in all reality you accomplish nothing, but feel like you have done so much. Day one is important because it can provide momentum and clear a path to success, but it also presents the problem of motivation being incredibly disproportionate to success. It's likely that your first day will be the most discordant with respect to motivation and results.

Rand does a great job explaining the relationship between ROI and Effort:

However, I think the third component here is motivation. While it does largely track the chart Rand provides, I think there are some notable differences, the first of which is that, in the first few days, your motivation will be high despite not having any results. Your motivation will probably dip very quickly and become parallel with the remainder of the "effort" line on the graph, but you get the point.

Courtesy Drew Beamer

It's essential to keep your motivation up over the course of the "slog", and the trick is to disconnect your motivation from your ROI and attach it instead to attainable goals which lead to ROI. It's a terribly difficult thing to do.

Alright, so, Day One prep.

Project description

For this project, I'll be employing a unique form of broken link building (Part 2). If you've seen any of my link building presentations in the last 2-3 years, you may have caught a glimpse of some of the techniques in the process. Nevertheless, the link building method really isn't important for the sake of this project. All that matters for the sake of our discussion in the method is:

Outreach Based (requires contacting other webmasters).

Neutral with regard to Black/White hat (it could be done either way).

Requires Prospecting.

Ultimately brings Return on Investment through either advertising or an exit.

In addition, I won't be using any aliases in this project. For once, I'm building something respectable enough that I don't mind my name being associated with it. I do still need to be careful (avoid negative SEO, for example) as this is a YMYL industry (health related). The site is already in existence, but with almost no links.

So, what are the returns on investment (or effort) that I'll be tracking and, importantly, won't be tracking?

Courtesy financereference.com

1. Emails sent to links placed relative to:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

2. Contact forms filled to links placed:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

3. Anchor text used in links placed

4. Not tracking:

Deliverability

Open rate

Reply rate

Domain Authority of source

I know #4 will sound like a cardinal sin to many of the professional link builders reading this, but I'm really just not interested in bothering a recipient who chooses to overlook the email. I'm certain that the speed of emails sent will not impact deliverability, so the other statistics just seem like continuing to ring the doorbell at someone's house until they are forced to answer. Sure, it might work, but it also might get you reported.

Preparation

There are a couple of steps I take every time I begin a project like this.

1. Set up email, obviously. I typically set up russ@, info@, contact@, media@ and a catch all. I don't use Google. It just seems, well, wrong. I have had success with Zoho before, although honestly I just need the email so I often go with a CPANEL host and then add the MX records to Cloudflare.

2. Set up a phone number for voice mail. I like Grasshopper, personally. This is not to improve rankings (although I do put it on the site), it's to improve conversion rates. Email messages with a real phone number and real email address from a real person, with the same domain promoted as the domain in the email, just seem to do better when your project is truly above-board.

3. Set up SPF and DKIM records for better deliverability.

4. Set up a number of Google Docs sheets which will help with some of the prospecting and mail sending.

5. Set up my emailer. I know this is vague, but one of the things I try to do is create stumbling blocks to cheating. There are some awesome tools out there Pitchbox, BuzzStream, LinkProspector and more, but I find each very tempting to take shortcuts. I want to make sure I pull the trigger personally on every email that goes out. Efficient, no. Effective, not really. Safe, yeah.

Honestly, this is about as much as I can do in one day. I look forward to updating this regularly, make sure you follow @moz or @rjonesx on Twitter to get notified when we update this journal.

Sign up for The Moz Top 10, a semimonthly mailer updating you on the top ten hottest pieces of SEO news, tips, and rad links uncovered by the Moz team. Think of it as your exclusive digest of stuff you don't have time to hunt down but want to read!

0 notes

drummcarpentry · 4 years ago

Text

The Link Building Webslog

Posted by rjonesx.

What can you expect?

1. YELLING IN CAPSLOCK.

2. Some tips and tricks.

3. Weeping and gnashing of teeth

Courtesy Some Ecards

Courtesy Quotiss

The goal of this "Webslog" is to document the weeks and months that go into a link building campaign, at least as far as how I go about the process.

Courtesy Aaron Burden

Also, look at that gorgeous fountain pen. I frickin' love fountain pens.

Journal Entry Day One

Rand does a great job explaining the relationship between ROI and Effort:

Courtesy Drew Beamer

Alright, so, Day One prep.

Project description

Outreach Based (requires contacting other webmasters).

Neutral with regard to Black/White hat (it could be done either way).

Requires Prospecting.

Ultimately brings Return on Investment through either advertising or an exit.

So, what are the returns on investment (or effort) that I'll be tracking and, importantly, won't be tracking?

Courtesy financereference.com

1. Emails sent to links placed relative to:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

2. Contact forms filled to links placed:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

3. Anchor text used in links placed

4. Not tracking:

Deliverability

Open rate

Reply rate

Domain Authority of source

Preparation

There are a couple of steps I take every time I begin a project like this.

3. Set up SPF and DKIM records for better deliverability.

4. Set up a number of Google Docs sheets which will help with some of the prospecting and mail sending.

Honestly, this is about as much as I can do in one day. I look forward to updating this regularly, make sure you follow @moz or @rjonesx on Twitter to get notified when we update this journal.

0 notes

market-news-24 · 7 months ago

Text

Ethereum sees a significant dip, falling below a crucial price point amid the underperformance of Hong Kong-based ETFs. Investors are keenly watching this unexpected shift, wondering how it will affect the broader cryptocurrency Market and future investment strategies. This notable movement in Ethereum's value has caught the attention of both seasoned and new investors, sparking discussions on potential impacts and recovery prospects. Stay tuned as we delve deeper into what this means for Ethereum and the cryptocurrency landscape. Click to Claim Latest Airdrop for FREE Claim in 15 seconds Scroll Down to End of This Post const downloadBtn = document.getElementById('download-btn'); const timerBtn = document.getElementById('timer-btn'); const downloadLinkBtn = document.getElementById('download-link-btn'); downloadBtn.addEventListener('click', () => downloadBtn.style.display = 'none'; timerBtn.style.display = 'block'; let timeLeft = 15; const timerInterval = setInterval(() => if (timeLeft === 0) clearInterval(timerInterval); timerBtn.style.display = 'none'; downloadLinkBtn.style.display = 'inline-block'; // Add your download functionality here console.log('Download started!'); else timerBtn.textContent = `Claim in $timeLeft seconds`; timeLeft--; , 1000); ); Win Up To 93% Of Your Trades With The World's #1 Most Profitable Trading Indicators [ad_1] In the constantly shifting landscape of cryptocurrency, Ethereum has found itself in the spotlight once again, albeit for reasons that have investors divided. Despite a recent price dip, a closer look at exchange supply data reveals a more optimistic sentiment among the majority of investors. They appear to be holding onto their ETH, anticipating future gains, contrary to the actions of a few whales who have chosen to offload their holdings following the recent price decline. Adding to the mix, Hong Kong's foray into spot Bitcoin and Ethereum ETFs didn't hit the mark as expected. The first day of trading concluded with a performance that fell short of issuer hopes, amassing a trading volume that pales in comparison to the global ETF Market. This lukewarm reception contributed to Ethereum's price struggles, which saw the cryptocurrency experiencing more liquidations than its counterpart, Bitcoin. The sentiment around ETH was further rattled, indicating a rocky path ahead for the altcoin's stabilization. Despite these challenges, certain Market activities provide a silver lining for Ethereum enthusiasts. Notably, significant movements of ETH by asset managers and the increasing interest from prominent figures in the crypto community hint at a resilient faith in Ethereum's long-term potential. Furthermore, data indicating Ethereum's exchange supply dropping at a faster pace than Bitcoin's suggests an accumulating behavior among investors. They seem to be betting on Ethereum's long-term ascent, anticipating it to lead the next altcoin rally. On the technical front, Ethereum is currently testing crucial support levels with the potential to stem further declines. Market observers are closely watching these levels for signs of recovery, hoping for ETH to bounce back and reclaim higher price thresholds. As Ethereum navigates these turbulent waters, the overarching sentiment seems to straddle cautious optimism and vigilant observance of the altcoin's ability to withstand Market pressures. This series of events captures the high-stakes nature of cryptocurrency investments, where regulatory news, Market sentiment, and investment strategies converge to shape the journey of digital assets like Ethereum. As the cryptocurrency Market continues to evolve, the resilience and adaptability of both investors and digital currencies are put to the test, painting a dynamic picture of the future of finance. As always, these developments serve as a reminder of the volatile and unpredictable nature of cryptocurrency markets.

Investors are encouraged to conduct thorough research and exercise caution, keeping an eye on the ever-changing landscape of the crypto world. The world of cryptocurrency remains a frontier of vast potential and risk, where the only constant is change itself. Win Up To 93% Of Your Trades With The World's #1 Most Profitable Trading Indicators [ad_2] 1. What happens when Ethereum dips below a key level? When Ethereum dips below a key level, it means the price has fallen below an important price point that traders and investors watch closely. It can indicate a bearish or downward trend in the Market for Ethereum. 2. Why do ETFs in Hong Kong underperform? ETFs in Hong Kong might underperform for various reasons, including changes in Market conditions, changes in economic indicators, regulatory changes, or shifts in investor sentiment. If they are related to cryptocurrencies, they might also underperform due to volatility in the crypto Market. 3. Does the underperformance of Hong Kong ETFs affect Ethereum? The direct impact might not be very noticeable, but there can be indirect effects. If the ETFs are significantly exposed to Ethereum or the broader crypto Market, their underperformance could reflect broader Market trends that also affect Ethereum’s value. 4. What should investors do when Ethereum dips? Investors should evaluate their investment strategy, risk tolerance, and the reasons behind the dip before making a decision. Some might see it as a buying opportunity, while others might prefer to wait or adjust their portfolios depending on their long-term view and financial goals. 5. Can Ethereum recover from a dip? Yes, Ethereum, like other cryptocurrencies, can recover from dips. The crypto Market is known for its volatility, and prices can change rapidly. Recovery depends on various factors including Market sentiment, adoption rates, technological advancements, and broader economic conditions. Win Up To 93% Of Your Trades With The World's #1 Most Profitable Trading Indicators [ad_1] Win Up To 93% Of Your Trades With The World's #1 Most Profitable Trading Indicators Claim Airdrop now Searching FREE Airdrops 20 seconds Sorry There is No FREE Airdrops Available now. Please visit Later function claimAirdrop() document.getElementById('claim-button').style.display = 'none'; document.getElementById('timer-container').style.display = 'block'; let countdownTimer = 20; const countdownInterval = setInterval(function() document.getElementById('countdown').textContent = countdownTimer; countdownTimer--; if (countdownTimer < 0) clearInterval(countdownInterval); document.getElementById('timer-container').style.display = 'none'; document.getElementById('sorry-button').style.display = 'block'; , 1000);

0 notes

lakelandseo · 4 years ago

Text

The Link Building Webslog

Posted by rjonesx.

What can you expect?

1. YELLING IN CAPSLOCK.

2. Some tips and tricks.

3. Weeping and gnashing of teeth

Courtesy Some Ecards

Courtesy Quotiss

The goal of this "Webslog" is to document the weeks and months that go into a link building campaign, at least as far as how I go about the process.

Courtesy Aaron Burden

Also, look at that gorgeous fountain pen. I frickin' love fountain pens.

Journal Entry Day One

Rand does a great job explaining the relationship between ROI and Effort:

Courtesy Drew Beamer

Alright, so, Day One prep.

Project description

Outreach Based (requires contacting other webmasters).

Neutral with regard to Black/White hat (it could be done either way).

Requires Prospecting.

Ultimately brings Return on Investment through either advertising or an exit.

So, what are the returns on investment (or effort) that I'll be tracking and, importantly, won't be tracking?

Courtesy financereference.com

1. Emails sent to links placed relative to:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

2. Contact forms filled to links placed:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

3. Anchor text used in links placed

4. Not tracking:

Deliverability

Open rate

Reply rate

Domain Authority of source

Preparation

There are a couple of steps I take every time I begin a project like this.

3. Set up SPF and DKIM records for better deliverability.

4. Set up a number of Google Docs sheets which will help with some of the prospecting and mail sending.

Honestly, this is about as much as I can do in one day. I look forward to updating this regularly, make sure you follow @moz or @rjonesx on Twitter to get notified when we update this journal.

0 notes

epackingvietnam · 4 years ago

Text

The Link Building Webslog

Posted by rjonesx.

What can you expect?

1. YELLING IN CAPSLOCK.

2. Some tips and tricks.

3. Weeping and gnashing of teeth

Courtesy Some Ecards

Courtesy Quotiss

The goal of this "Webslog" is to document the weeks and months that go into a link building campaign, at least as far as how I go about the process.

Courtesy Aaron Burden

Also, look at that gorgeous fountain pen. I frickin' love fountain pens.

Journal Entry Day One

Rand does a great job explaining the relationship between ROI and Effort:

Courtesy Drew Beamer

Alright, so, Day One prep.

Project description

Outreach Based (requires contacting other webmasters).

Neutral with regard to Black/White hat (it could be done either way).

Requires Prospecting.

Ultimately brings Return on Investment through either advertising or an exit.

So, what are the returns on investment (or effort) that I'll be tracking and, importantly, won't be tracking?

Courtesy financereference.com

1. Emails sent to links placed relative to:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

2. Contact forms filled to links placed:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

3. Anchor text used in links placed

4. Not tracking:

Deliverability

Open rate

Reply rate

Domain Authority of source

Preparation

There are a couple of steps I take every time I begin a project like this.

3. Set up SPF and DKIM records for better deliverability.

4. Set up a number of Google Docs sheets which will help with some of the prospecting and mail sending.

Honestly, this is about as much as I can do in one day. I look forward to updating this regularly, make sure you follow @moz or @rjonesx on Twitter to get notified when we update this journal.

#túi_giấy_epacking_việt_nam #túi_giấy_epacking #in_túi_giấy_giá_rẻ #in_túi_giấy #epackingvietnam #tuigiayepacking

0 notes

nutrifami · 4 years ago

Text

The Link Building Webslog

Posted by rjonesx.

What can you expect?

1. YELLING IN CAPSLOCK.

2. Some tips and tricks.

3. Weeping and gnashing of teeth

Courtesy Some Ecards

Courtesy Quotiss

The goal of this "Webslog" is to document the weeks and months that go into a link building campaign, at least as far as how I go about the process.

Courtesy Aaron Burden

Also, look at that gorgeous fountain pen. I frickin' love fountain pens.

Journal Entry Day One

Rand does a great job explaining the relationship between ROI and Effort:

Courtesy Drew Beamer

Alright, so, Day One prep.

Project description

Outreach Based (requires contacting other webmasters).

Neutral with regard to Black/White hat (it could be done either way).

Requires Prospecting.

Ultimately brings Return on Investment through either advertising or an exit.

So, what are the returns on investment (or effort) that I'll be tracking and, importantly, won't be tracking?

Courtesy financereference.com

1. Emails sent to links placed relative to:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

2. Contact forms filled to links placed:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

3. Anchor text used in links placed

4. Not tracking:

Deliverability

Open rate

Reply rate

Domain Authority of source

Preparation

There are a couple of steps I take every time I begin a project like this.

3. Set up SPF and DKIM records for better deliverability.

4. Set up a number of Google Docs sheets which will help with some of the prospecting and mail sending.

Honestly, this is about as much as I can do in one day. I look forward to updating this regularly, make sure you follow @moz or @rjonesx on Twitter to get notified when we update this journal.

0 notes

xaydungtruonggia · 4 years ago

Text

The Link Building Webslog

Posted by rjonesx.

What can you expect?

1. YELLING IN CAPSLOCK.

2. Some tips and tricks.

3. Weeping and gnashing of teeth

Courtesy Some Ecards

Courtesy Quotiss

The goal of this "Webslog" is to document the weeks and months that go into a link building campaign, at least as far as how I go about the process.

Courtesy Aaron Burden

Also, look at that gorgeous fountain pen. I frickin' love fountain pens.

Journal Entry Day One

Rand does a great job explaining the relationship between ROI and Effort:

Courtesy Drew Beamer

Alright, so, Day One prep.

Project description

Outreach Based (requires contacting other webmasters).

Neutral with regard to Black/White hat (it could be done either way).

Requires Prospecting.

Ultimately brings Return on Investment through either advertising or an exit.

So, what are the returns on investment (or effort) that I'll be tracking and, importantly, won't be tracking?

Courtesy financereference.com

1. Emails sent to links placed relative to:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

2. Contact forms filled to links placed:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

3. Anchor text used in links placed

4. Not tracking:

Deliverability

Open rate

Reply rate

Domain Authority of source

Preparation

There are a couple of steps I take every time I begin a project like this.

3. Set up SPF and DKIM records for better deliverability.

4. Set up a number of Google Docs sheets which will help with some of the prospecting and mail sending.

Honestly, this is about as much as I can do in one day. I look forward to updating this regularly, make sure you follow @moz or @rjonesx on Twitter to get notified when we update this journal.

0 notes

ductrungnguyen87 · 4 years ago

Text

The Link Building Webslog

Posted by rjonesx.

What can you expect?

1. YELLING IN CAPSLOCK.

2. Some tips and tricks.

3. Weeping and gnashing of teeth

Courtesy Some Ecards

Courtesy Quotiss

The goal of this "Webslog" is to document the weeks and months that go into a link building campaign, at least as far as how I go about the process.

Courtesy Aaron Burden

Also, look at that gorgeous fountain pen. I frickin' love fountain pens.

Journal Entry Day One

Rand does a great job explaining the relationship between ROI and Effort:

Courtesy Drew Beamer

Alright, so, Day One prep.

Project description

Outreach Based (requires contacting other webmasters).

Neutral with regard to Black/White hat (it could be done either way).

Requires Prospecting.

Ultimately brings Return on Investment through either advertising or an exit.

So, what are the returns on investment (or effort) that I'll be tracking and, importantly, won't be tracking?

Courtesy financereference.com

1. Emails sent to links placed relative to:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

2. Contact forms filled to links placed:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

3. Anchor text used in links placed

4. Not tracking:

Deliverability

Open rate

Reply rate

Domain Authority of source

Preparation

There are a couple of steps I take every time I begin a project like this.

3. Set up SPF and DKIM records for better deliverability.

4. Set up a number of Google Docs sheets which will help with some of the prospecting and mail sending.

Honestly, this is about as much as I can do in one day. I look forward to updating this regularly, make sure you follow @moz or @rjonesx on Twitter to get notified when we update this journal.

0 notes

camerasieunhovn · 4 years ago

Text

The Link Building Webslog

Posted by rjonesx.

What can you expect?

1. YELLING IN CAPSLOCK.

2. Some tips and tricks.

3. Weeping and gnashing of teeth

Courtesy Some Ecards

Courtesy Quotiss

The goal of this "Webslog" is to document the weeks and months that go into a link building campaign, at least as far as how I go about the process.

Courtesy Aaron Burden

Also, look at that gorgeous fountain pen. I frickin' love fountain pens.

Journal Entry Day One

Rand does a great job explaining the relationship between ROI and Effort:

Courtesy Drew Beamer

Alright, so, Day One prep.

Project description

Outreach Based (requires contacting other webmasters).

Neutral with regard to Black/White hat (it could be done either way).

Requires Prospecting.

Ultimately brings Return on Investment through either advertising or an exit.

So, what are the returns on investment (or effort) that I'll be tracking and, importantly, won't be tracking?

Courtesy financereference.com

1. Emails sent to links placed relative to:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

2. Contact forms filled to links placed:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

3. Anchor text used in links placed

4. Not tracking:

Deliverability

Open rate

Reply rate

Domain Authority of source

Preparation

There are a couple of steps I take every time I begin a project like this.

3. Set up SPF and DKIM records for better deliverability.

4. Set up a number of Google Docs sheets which will help with some of the prospecting and mail sending.

Honestly, this is about as much as I can do in one day. I look forward to updating this regularly, make sure you follow @moz or @rjonesx on Twitter to get notified when we update this journal.

0 notes

gamebazu · 4 years ago

Text

The Link Building Webslog

Posted by rjonesx.

What can you expect?

1. YELLING IN CAPSLOCK.

2. Some tips and tricks.

3. Weeping and gnashing of teeth

Courtesy Some Ecards

Courtesy Quotiss

The goal of this "Webslog" is to document the weeks and months that go into a link building campaign, at least as far as how I go about the process.

Courtesy Aaron Burden

Also, look at that gorgeous fountain pen. I frickin' love fountain pens.

Journal Entry Day One

Rand does a great job explaining the relationship between ROI and Effort:

Courtesy Drew Beamer

Alright, so, Day One prep.

Project description

Outreach Based (requires contacting other webmasters).

Neutral with regard to Black/White hat (it could be done either way).

Requires Prospecting.

Ultimately brings Return on Investment through either advertising or an exit.

So, what are the returns on investment (or effort) that I'll be tracking and, importantly, won't be tracking?

Courtesy financereference.com

1. Emails sent to links placed relative to:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

2. Contact forms filled to links placed:

Subject line

Pitch email

Target broken link

3. Anchor text used in links placed

4. Not tracking:

Deliverability

Open rate

Reply rate

Domain Authority of source

Preparation

There are a couple of steps I take every time I begin a project like this.

3. Set up SPF and DKIM records for better deliverability.

4. Set up a number of Google Docs sheets which will help with some of the prospecting and mail sending.

Honestly, this is about as much as I can do in one day. I look forward to updating this regularly, make sure you follow @moz or @rjonesx on Twitter to get notified when we update this journal.

https://ift.tt/37VLpzX

0 notes