#when they die it will be peaceful and they’ll be welcomed into the isle of the blessed together

[justaz]

Going feral as I think about my greek soulmates percabeth who were Perseus and Andromeda in a past life and Odysseus and Penelope in another. Falling in love in every lifetime. Finding each other every time. Their love is true and unconditional. Listening to “Would You Fall In Love With Me Again” from Epic and thinking about post Tartarus Annabeth having to cope and deal with the more cruel and dark version of Percy she saw in the pit and coming out the other side still loving him. He hesitates before reaching for her and his touch is so gentle and barely there, his hands tremble slightly as if he’s afraid he’ll hurt her and Annabeth is sure that no matter what he does, he’ll always be hers. He’ll always be her love. He’ll always be her best friend and soulmate. She’ll always love him.

[bluebrrn]

This Means War (part 1)

Summary: Two top CIA operatives wage an epic battle against one another after they discover they are dating the same woman (based on the movie)

Word count: 1500 A/N:Hey guys! so i’ve decided to post this on Tumblr as well as on Wattpad. I haven’t seen any This Means War fan fic on here so i’ve decided to try it out. Feedback is greatly appreciated. This Means War (Masterlist)

After doing a product testing you walked out of the experiment room ready to take on your next task.

“Ooh (Y/N)..” your assistant Wanda called out.

“Yeah?” You stop and turn to her. 

She glanced down, “I was wondering if I could leave work a bit early today for the holiday weekend. Vis is taking me to an alpaca farm.” She giggled.

Ugh Vis. Don’t be mistaken, he’s a great guy! But sometimes it feels like everyone has someone special in their lives besides you. “Oh, yeah of course.” You smile, “it’s a holiday, And a weekend.” Wanda chuckled. “so yeah you should do that.”

“Okay.” He smiled.

“Have fun!” You muster up the friendliest smile you could.

“You have fun too.” She waved walking away.

“I will.” You reply. Not.

After a few hours at the gym you grab your things and make your way towards the diner for your usual.

“..And just maybe I’m gonna make it, I’m gonna shake it, shake it, shake i-” you stop singing when someone stops infront of you.

“Hey (Y/N)! Hey!” A man standing next to a red head catch your attention.  

Your eyes widen and you pull your headphones off. “oh! Hi! Clint hey!” You smile awkwardly.

“Hey.” He repeats smiling at you with a dazed look in your eye.

“Clint…” You trail off.

He snaps out of it, “yes, oh! I’m so sorry, uh (Y/N) this is Natasha.”

You turn your head to look at the gorgeous woman, “Hi!” You grin extending your hand.

“Hi! Very nice to meet you.” She grins shaking your hand.

“Nice to meet you too, yeah.” You smile pulling your hand away and noticing something shiny on her left ring finger.

“Wow,” you chuckle, “what a big rock!”

“Yeah.” Clint grins, “this is my fiancee…”

Your eyes widen, “you are engaged..” you muster another fake smile for the day. “…To be married.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He smiled. “Things just worked out exactly how they’re supposed to, didn’t they?” He turned to her happily and cupped her cheek leaning over to kiss her.

“Yeah..” you look down awkwardly. “cool…” God could this be any more awkward? You look down at your feet waiting for them to remember you were there too.

“Okay well, you know what? I’m gonna go because I’m gonna go meet up with my guy, Sam.” You blurted out.

“Huh.” Clint nodded.

“Yup, he’s a surgeon.” You continue to lie.

“Wow.” He nods impressed.

“So, great, well…Uh congratulations on your ring.” You smile to natasha, “and everything..”

She smiled, “thanks.”

“Yep, uh well peace.” You threw up a piece sign and got out of there as quick as you could.

“See ya.” “Bye.” They said at the same time.

You walk away, “I can’t believe I just said peace.” You muttered to myself, “I just want to die right now.” You groan.

You walk into a local diner that you eat at basically everyday.

“table for one!” Sam and Scott announce when you walk into the diner.

“Ha ha very funny guys.” You roll your eyes and take a seat on the booth infront of sam.

“Hey Sam, Scott.” You sigh.

“The usual?” Sam asks.

You nod, “yeah.” You look to your right and sigh seeing another couple. Couples everywhere!

“Long day huh?” Scott sighs leaning forward.

“You don’t know the half of it.” You groan.

The door bell jingles, “Hey welcome! Take a seat.” Sam grins.

You notice the couple next to you had left.

“Aw come on, this is too funny.” You hear that familiar voice say.

You look up and Clint and Natasha had just walked in.

“Hysterical.” You force a smile.

Clint noticed an empty seat to your right, “oh I’m sorry this must be your boyfriend’s seat, uh Sam right?”

“Oh, yeah..” you lie.

Scott snorted, “boyfriend? She always comes in alone.” His eyes widened when he realized what he said. “sorry.” He muttered quietly.

You sighed and hide your fave in your hands.

“Ugh! It was the most humiliating thing ever!” You groan as you walk down Walmart isle with your best friend.

Daisy laughed, “well that’s because you have to come up with better excuses.” She grabbed some paper towels off of a rack. “you should have been like ‘ichave a fiance too but he’s getting a reduction surgery bec-”

“Oh my god shut up!” You groan which makes her laugh more.

“It’s just, my brain freezes when I see him!” You sigh. “I just can’t believe I gave up everything for him. It’s just, I feel so stupid. I left my friends, my family-”

“Don’t say that, I’m happy you moved here. We have a happy life together. ” Daisy interrupted.

“I just thought he was my person. ” you looked down at your shoes.

“Well I thought he was your person too. You know what kind of person he ended up being? The kind of person that ends up with a girl that likes to makes out after she eats onions.” Daisy said.

You chuckle, “she seemed really nice. She was really pretty.”

“Well I don’t care about her. I care about you and your love life.” She mumbled as she checked out the laundry detergent.

You huff “I’m going out, dating, meeting guys. ”

“Oh please, you’re not- you date, but you’re not taking it seriously.” She places a detergent in the basket.

“Oh I don’t use that brand, it leaves a film. That ones more effective.” You point to a different bottle.

“Well, I wish you would act like that with men.” She trades out the yellow gallon for the green one. “I mean you can choose a laundry detergent, but you can’t choose a guy you want to sleep with.”

“Hey! That’s my job it’s easier. There’s charts, there’s numbers.” You explained.

“Well that’s why you should start online dating. They have lots of charts. ” Once again she’s trying to get you to join the online dating bandwagon or whatever.

“Not that again.” You complain.

“What’s your problem with online dating?” She raised a brow.

“What’s my problem? Have you seen dateline? Do you know how many creeps are out there?” You whisper. “I could end up in a skin suit, or in someone’s trunk!”

“Uh, that’s a little dramatic okay? That happens to like one of twenty girls. And you’re not gonna end up in anyone’s trunk. If you’re lucky they’ll end up in your trunk.” She winked.

“Oh my god Skye!” You laugh.

“It’s Daisy!” She reminded you.

“Right right sorry.” You chuckle.

“The point is, that you need to get back out there.“she smiled. "Yeah sure you might make a mistake and end up with the wrong guy, but you might end up meeting the right guy. So isn’t that worth it? "She smiled softly. "I mean really what is the worst thing that could happen?”

“Skin suit.” You nod, “skin suit Is pretty bad.” You walk off.

The next morning you walk into work and you greet the receptionist, “morning Maria.”

She blushes, “uh morning.”

You furrow your brows and keep walking. You notice everyone laughing or staring at you. “Uh hi there.” You smile at another employee.

“Looking good boss.” He smirked.

“What?” You frown and keep walking. You look down at your outfit, maybe something wrong with it.

“Hi Paul.” You smile.

“What? nothing!” He looks up guilty.

Okay what’s going on ? Everyone is acting strange…

“Morning Hudson.” You smile.

“I’m down girl.” He smirked.

“Uh I’m down too?” You keep walking confused.

“Uh Wanda? What am I down with?” You ask her.

“Oh my goodness, it’s a… your- check your desktop.” She cringed.

You walked to your desk and gasped, someone had created a dating profile for you and had put um some photos of you in college. “Oh crap.” You sigh.

You grab your phone and call Daisy.

“Hi.” You could hear her grinning.

“Skinny dipping? Roller blading? What is this? 1994?” You roll your eyes.

“Hey! You looked adorable in those shorts!” She argued.

“I’m gonna kill you!” You whisper yelled.

“Um how about a thank you?”

“My entire office thinks I clean my house in a naughty nurse costume.” You growl.

“That’s fine! That means your open to role playing!” She cheered. “Okay? We’re trying to cast a really wide net. We don’t know what guys you like yet..”

“You’ve got a photo of me in a keg stand with my profile saying I’m looking for a relationship.” You say. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“It means you’re flexible.” She smirked. “Guys want to know that you’re flexible and that you’re good at gymnastics.”

“Just please get me off! How do I cancel?” You scroll down the page.

“You’re not canceling it.” She said.

A handsome man catches your eye. “Wait a minute, who is that?” You click on their profile.

Steve Rogers. “Oh my god he’s cute.” You grin.

TAG LIST OPEN!

[caeliri]

All Things; Peace - pt. 1

Rivulets of dawnlight’s drove through the trees, drowning the everspring forest in deep shadows and pale shades of gold. Mist wove through the underbrush, blurring the wood to nothing more than dark lines and flashes of light, and from the great windows of Hallowhearth, even the houses along the row that led to the village center were hard to see in all their splendor.

Not that her eyes were on them; Dame Caeliri Dawnsworn’s eyes were locked on the toes of her boots as they, once more, circled the Great Hearth from window to door to corner to corner, her path as sure as it was mindless. Her feet were unwavering, but her lips were warbling, enrapted in whispered words, their syllables little more than a breath of sound as they slid haltingly off her tongue. They were borrowed words, from a book of history on Summerglen, and though she fumbled the phrases still, the heart behind them was sound.

“Unto the Light they go, not soft, not somber, but with revelry -- to join those who have gone before them, and left the path lit.”

Beyond the Great Hearth the manor hummed with the muted sound of clinking cutlery and hard-bristled brooms against stone floors; through the double doors only a handful of sounds seeped in, the shuffle of mislaid books and long-laid dust and the murmur of soft song and conversation, and she only recognized the later for their familiarity. Caeliri had grown accustomed to the staff of Shallowbrook, their names, their faces, their trades and tasks, and with her own process of hiring staff for her estate stalled by the war effort on the Broken Isles, calling in a favor from Lord Firestorm had been her only option for preparing the manor in time. Hallowhearth was still half-ruined, it’s guest rooms prepared and proper, but the rooms Caeliri considered superficial - the dining hall, her own quarters, the foyer, the kitchen - had been overlooked in favor of assuring her closest companions would find their personal rooms in a state of perfect comfort.

As ever, Liadove disagreed with her choice; but the rooms were well-loved and well-used, and in the end, that mattered most to her.

Of course, now that she and her soldiers came back from Suramar, her folly was clear; painfully.

“Those we love, we lay within the earth, but though their bones lay beneath our feet, they move unburdened beside us, always.”

Seven soldiers; seven graves.

She’d seen more loss in a single battle, and somehow, this hurt as much as the first time she’d seen a patient die. Caeliri hadn’t known them well - she knew their names, first and last, and their faces, but who they were beyond that was a mystery to her. She knew they came from Summerglen, they marched with her when the order was given. They stood astride her Dawnmender Guardians and raised their quaking arms in her service. By her will. By her command.

Now they lay, ashen faced, in the earth, their bodies cloaked in the colors of a pale and merry dawn.

Now, she regretted changing the colors of her house to something so bright and hopeful.

Sleep had been fleeting since her return from the Broken Isles, the weight of loss heavy on her slim shoulders - between the Summerglen soldiers and the Gilneans she’d mistakenly sentenced to a fate worse than death, and hundreds of their dead brethren she’d buried with Shahin, her mind was fraught with sorrow and guilt.

Clearing his throat, Liadove clasped his hands at the base of his spine, watching the path she paced before the fireplace with worried eyes. “The mourners are gathering at the southern graveyard gate.”

Caeliri paused, her eyes on the fireplace, on the phoenix who stirred within.

Grace had grown enough to coo and chirp once more, but had as of yet been unwilling to part from the nest of embers she’d built herself. What staff Caeliri had hired - an assistant, Lyla Redgrove, and a handful of guards at Liadove’s relentless insistence - were under orders to keep the fire ever-burning; they fed it, slowly, at all hours of the day, from dawn to dusk to the deep hours of shadow-steeped midnight, and in the weeks since she’d taken up residence in Hallowhearth - and been forced to leave on Sunguard business - Grace had recovered to nearly the size she’d been before.

She was more sleek now - less bloated on the magics she’d feasted on in Dalaran that made her plump and puffy - and when she stretched her wings their span was greater, too.

When Caeliri failed to answer, Liadove spoke on, taking a step into the room. “I know I’ve counselled you on following tradition, but perhaps, this time, you may wish to forgo it.”

“The doors of Hallowhearth are always open to the citizens on funeral days,” Caeliri uttered back, her eyes still on the churning flames; she took a knee before them, holding one hand, scarred palm up and fingers splayed loosely in offering, to offer Grace a place to perch.

“When Hallowhearth was whole,” Liadove rolled one shoulder, “and splendid. The halls are unfinished; the paths through the garden are still half-swallowed by the flowers, the fountains are flowing but the water is green, and the dining hall-”

“The dining hall is fine; the Firestorm staff brought tables from Shallowbrook with them. They’ll be returned at week’s end - I have that under control.” Caeliri wheeled her fingers lightly, and Grace leaned forward, beyond the wreath of flames she’d cloaked herself in, to rub her head against the Dawnmender’s fingers.

Unconvinced, Liadove ran a hand through his hair, and relaced his hands at the base of his spine. “That is another matter.”

Rising, Caeliri turned back to him, her ears flicking. “Another matter?”

Liadove nodded, but didn’t carry on.

“What, exactly, is ‘another matter’?” Caeliri’s head tipped slightly, sending a swath of tangerine hair spilling into her face; she brushed it back swiftly, and the sight of the dark flesh that circled her sea-green eyes made guilt pang at the back of Liadove’s belly.

“Your… reliance,” he ventured, mulling over his words as he spoke, each selected with great care, “on Lord Firestorm.”

Caeliri blinked at him, once, twice -- and her nose scrunched in confusion. “Lord Firestorm is my friend - his staff came with his permission, but they came willingly, and they’re being paid…”

Liadove narrowed his eyes at the space behind Caeliri’s head, ears twitching slightly. “Remember, before, with the vote, when I expressed to you concern that it might make you appear to lack confidence and surety?”

A noise - curious and contemplative and slightly disgruntled - was his only answer.

“By going to that man --”

“Lord Firestorm,” Caeliri corrected, her voice tainted with a tightness that made Liadove pause and regard the young woman with surprise.

“...Lord Firestorm -- by going to him to ask for assistance, you’ve showed your belly to him; he knows you haven’t the… experience, yet, to prepare yourself for situations that fall outside your expectations. That you are, as of yet, unable to…”

“Unable to what?”

“To…” Liadove straightened his shoulders; he wasn’t raised to speak with the eloquence of nobles. He was a soldier, a common guard, and though he’d rubbed elbows with enough knights to know his way around politics - in theory - the grace of language one that came to him with any ease. “To be self-sustaining. You’ve placed yourself in a position of needing him; noblemen will take advantage of that.”

Silence swelled between them, thick and sludgey, it was an invisible, oppressive force that flooded the Great Hearth, and the both of them stood there, mired in the moment.

From the way her eyes flicked back and forth across the floor and the furrow forming between her brows, it seemed he’d struck a deeper chord than he’d meant, and aware that he’d stepped far beyond the boundaries of what his role in the young dame’s life was meant to be, Liadove tried to backtrack, “The ceremony needs to start soon - I can tell the mourners--”

“Tell the mourners,” Caeliri’s voice came sharp and clear and crystalline, but sweet as it was, it was edged in glass, and made Liadove flinch, “that the doors of Hallowhearth are open to them on this day. When the service concludes, they are welcome to Grand Hall to eat to their wishes, and for them, today, there are no locked doors; my home is their home, as my grief is their grief.” Drawing herself up, Caeliri turned on her heel and headed for the double doors that kept the Great Hearth from the Foyer; she swept past Liadove, so close he could feel the fire of defiance that wafted off her flesh, and the energy of raw frustration that pulsed through her.

In her wake, her Captain of the Guard let loose a long, hasty breath, regret already beginning to flood him.

--

@forever-afk | @felthier | @airiannagrace