#too much touching

[green-blooded-computer]

how gay is TOS? 2/?

conscience of the king:

spock has pulled mccoy into a deserted hallway and is standing less than a foot away and talking intently to him. he’s touched his arm at least twice. they are staring into each other’s eyes.

[syntheticspades]

sometimes i forget i’m ace and sex repulsed so i forget people actually do that stuff

[fii-nixx]

Where the Oceans Meet.

Chapter 1: Where once there was peace

All good stories start with "Once upon a Time'', but not this one. It starts with war. It begins with a lost queen, bound and gagged for all her people to see. A queen, who's true binds were not of the ropes that bound her, nor the nets that held her, but of the life she was to bear. A life that was to be born of love, and happiness that was not to be found within the ocean's tides. This babe of two bloods was to be a bringer of peace and hope to the people, and yet, while not even of this life, they were shunned. For you see the lover of this strong minded queen, was but a simple sailor. Intelligent as he may have been, he held true to the stories and myths of the seas. He had believed himself bewitched by a siren's power, and as such did not believe the babe to be one of innocence, but of evil. Much like the Amazons of Ancient Greece, these so-called sirens were believed to lure men to their deaths, but not before becoming impregnated  first. It was this tale that fueled the rage of the sailor, and such a rage it was. Not even the great storms of the seas could match his anger and sorrow at his assumed betrayal. So the great queen was cast aside, still with child, from the man of whom she loved dearly. With this act, her people grew ever more enraged. First this man took their queen, made her with child, then cast her aside without a second thought to her nature. For you see, dear readers, sirens shall only love once in their immortal lives, and gain but one child from it. From this birth, the mother gives her remaining life span to her child, allowing them to live on but the mother to perish. This is where my story begins, with love, and heartbreak.

When my mother was pregnant, I could hear her. The warm whispers of love and affection. The words, filled with the promise of a better world. A world so unlike her own, that she was willing to chance death to stay with my sire so that I would know the world I would belong to. A sire that, as soon as she was caught in a rain storm and shifted, bound her to burn. A not so elegant torture, that should have killed me as well. I felt every minute of the sun’s hot caress against my mothers body. I heard her agonizing screams as she begged him to let her live, to allow her child to live in her stead. I was present for every excruciating moment of her torture and when it was over, I was present for his tears as he cursed my very existance as he realized that my mother gave her last bits of strength and energy to force me into reality. She made me grow up too fast, gave me her knowledge of the world so I would not be as blind as she, to the horror of men and humanity, with their penchant for brutality when faced with the unknown. She made it so that I wouldn’t have to live through the struggle of learning how to be human nor the pain of growing as a siren. Worst of all, her last gift was the love of an inextinguishable heart. The ability to love a species who hate my very being. He, however, gave me two gifts. He allowed me to live, but not after giving me a scar across my cheek. One that would forever mark me as his spawn, should he ever decide to finish me off, or send someone to do the job. My first day of life was one of pain and loathing, but the rest hasn’t been much better. 

YEARS LATER

The sun streamed in through the window as I stretched out. The pile of rags that has served as my bed for the past few months, a crumpled mess beneath me. “Another day, another dollar,” I thought gingerly to myself as I slowly woke up. Once again, I’ve dreamt of that day. It’s been happening more often now that I’m older. “I’m almost as old as she was, before she met my sire.”  Running my hand through my hair, I rose from the floor to get ready for the day. Not really needing to get dressed, I brushed through my dark locks, wincing every time my fingers caught in a knot. “It’s almost time to move on,” I spoke to no one in particular. I’ve gotten into the habit of talking to myself out loud, for no other reason than to remember how to speak. I tend to keep away from most humans, if I can help it. Earning bits of coin here and there for food and the occasional nights rest in a real bed. Anything else I need, I make for myself. It’s a lonely life, but it’s better than the alternative. That is the one good thing that came from my mother’s death, she gave me her entire collective knowledge. Not just everything that she had learned on her own through her hundreds of years of life, but also that of my grandmother, and her before that and so on. I had millenia of knowledge lodged into my brain from birth. I have never really had to learn how to do anything on my own, beyond how to hunt on land. My ancestors never had a reason to venture this far inland, thus never had to learn to hunt land creatures. Which I guess is fair, considering how my ancestors all died. Well, for the most part. For my species half breeds are rare. Rarer even than the males. The last time I was among my own kind, I was practically chased out the ocean and even halfway up the shore. I shook myself out of my own thoughts of the water, hoping that I will come across a lake today, if not for food then at least I can have a proper bath. Packing up what little I have into the leather bag my sire had given my mother, I took one last look at where I had been sleeping. Heading out the door, I made my way to the main house to say my farewells to the owner of the barn I stayed in.

“Mr. Hayworth? It’s Illia, I have to be on my way now sir.” I called out knocking on the door. It isn’t too early in the morning so he should’ve been up by now. “Mr. Hayworth?” I opened the door, walking in slowly just in case he was taking his time walking to the door to delay my departure. He has told me of his times, being harassed in town for harboring a halfbreed siren. Of the hardened sailors that have long since retired inland, warning him of the obvious “spell” I had placed on him for him to even consider taking me in. When in reality, he needed an extra pair of hands, since his stable boy had injured himself working with one of the more ornery stallions. Even being from the sea, I could handle those work horses better than that poor excuse of a man. So in return for a place to sleep, and some extra coin, I helped him with whatever he needed around his farm. However, I had been noticing that he had been harassed more than the usual drunkard, giving him a warning. A hunter had been seen in town. The kind that would love to hang me by my gills, and use the gold to defile my being. A king’s hunter by the looks of it. I continued up the stairs to where I know Mr. Hayworth’s room is. The living rooms are absolutely trashed, as if someone was looking for something. The stairs are no better, with the banister broken in so many places I was surprised it was even still intact. At the top of the stairs was the sickening smell of copper. The one smell I could never forget for the rest of my days. Fearing the worst, I didn’t even finish my trek into his rooms. I don’t want to be caught with a body on my hands, again. I turned to go back down the stairs, when I heard it. A slight groan caught my attention as I froze in place. “Mr. Hayworth? Groan once if you’re still alive, twice if someone is in there with you.” One groan, followed by two. Of course he can’t follow directions. I got ready to have to defend not just myself but to keep my host from further damage. My nails started to elongate as I opened the door slowly, nerves on high alert. The last thing I expected was to be face to face with the hunter, hovering over the stilling body of Mr. Hayworth. “What are you doing here Hunter?” 

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, Beast.”  I didn’t much care for the tone in his voice, but it wasn’t quite aimed at me. “Watch your tone with me, murderer,” I snarled back. His head snapped to me, and in that moment three things happened. One, I noticed his eyes. The startling emerald green abyss that stared back at me. These were the eyes of magic, of the woods, of earth. Two, this mysterious Hunter with those enrapturing eyes, is an Elf, tall and fair. His long platinum hair tied back in braids away from his face, his pointed ears on display. I should have known those backstabbing immortals would be in league with the Kingsmen. And three, Mr. Hayworth was, to put plainly, not as human as I thought. With the new distraction to the hunter, he tried to slip out of the room behind me, and he would have succeeded too, if his hooves didn't make so much noise. We both looked towards him, and it makes sense now why He took to me after all. Mr. Hayworth is a Satyr. Furry pants and all, it’s almost comical, if he wasn’t the reason I was staring down the proverbial gun barrel to save his ass. “Don’t take another hooved step, Faun. Or your favorite is going to have a lot of blood to clear up, not to mention a murder the townsmen are all to happy to pin on her.” I froze faster than he did at the statement, the hunter not even bothering to look at Mr. Hayworth. “You wouldn’t dare pin this on me. I haven’t done anything wrong since I stepped foot into this town. In fact, I am supposed to be on my way out as we speak. I was just wanting to say my goodbyes to this one here before I headed on my way.” I laid a glare into both of them. At this point Hayworth has noticed my nails, and scrambles back for protection behind the Hunter. “I knew one day that some Nymph was going to get their revenge on me. Is this how you do it halfblood? Is this how you mean to end the one who fed you?” Hayworth practically screamed at me. The accusations flew one after the other, and I just stood there and took it. It’s not the worst I’ve experienced and it won’t be the last. “You know what,” I wheeled on Hayworth. He stumbled back, tripping over himself. “You can have him Monster,” I said pointing at the Hunter malice in my voice as I then walked away.  Back down the stairs, through the door, and into the garden. There, I waited. I waited for the screams that always come when a hunter finds a monster. I waited for the sounds of violence that should have come, but all I heard was silence. Until, finally. The screams were horrific, as he begged for his life. I could only imagine what he did to get this kind of treatment from the Hunters. Usually, it’s a quick death for those that earn it. The more heinous the crime, the worse the punishment is before they are granted death. I sat in the garden contemplating what he could have done, when the Hunter exited the house.  

“What is your name half breed?” He asked as nonchalantly as if he was asking the weather. “Illia. Am I granted the same from you, or shall I keep referring to you as Murderer?”

“Thendril, only because you asked so nicely.” The snark radiated off of him more so than the stench of blood. “Can I help you with something? Or am I free to go?” I threw back at him, wanting nothing more than to just be on my way. “Well since you asked, there is something I need you for.” A pit grew in my stomach. This cannot end well. I thought to myself. 

“I need you to come with me.” And there it was. The moment I knew would come in time. “And why is that Thendril?” His name rolled off my tongue, cruelly, as if poisoned. “You are who I came to retrieve. My prey.” His eyes stared me down, as if to make sure that he could catch me if I ran. “And should I refuse?” My eyes met his in an act of defiance, never backing down from the threat he so clearly posed to me. “Then, I won’t make it a request,” Thendril shot back. He gave me a smug grin as if to make my situation better. “Why do you need me? There’s nothing I’ve done that warrants you being contracted to find me.” The pit grew larger as he circled me, close enough to reach out should I decide to run. “You’re right. You haven’t done anything wrong as far as I am concerned. However, it has been said that I need you. This man was willing to pay his weight in gold to have you brought to him alive and well. That faun was just a bonus. I’d been looking for him for a long time before I stumbled onto you.” 

With every word, he stepped closer until he walked around to face me. The fear must have been evident, with the way I unconsciously touched the scar across my cheekbone. “Are you contracted to a sailor named Gareth? If so, I will not go quietly.” The words seeped through my teeth as my jaw clenched, ready to fight my way out of this. Ready to do anything it took to keep myself out of his reach. Thendril reached out and grabbed my hands. Slowly, as if not to startle me out of wherever my mind was at the moment. At his touch, my muscles tensed further before finally relaxing under the warmth and feel of his gloves. I looked deep into his eyes, the astonished pain that was held there. “The man who hired me was no sailor, and definitely not named Gareth. No, I’m on a more political mission. My father is looking for a halfbreed Siren that was sired and betrayed. It’s a local myth in my city, that they will bring about the destruction of our people or save it. I was unsure about the truth in this story, as no one had ever heard of a Siren who was sired by a human. Not many of those around anymore.” He let my hands go to drop by my side, watching every emotion that flashed across my face. “However, judging by the pain in your eyes, and the fear in your voice, the man who sired you deserves worse than the Faun.” A brief flash of anger shone across his face as he spit out that sentence, as if the very thought of the man’s existence disgusted him. “Well, lucky for him, he died many years ago.” The question hung on his face said more than any word he could have uttered. “Gareth is his descendant. The sons of his line always hear my story and decide they can take me down. They think that they can avenge his watery death with my life. Which is hilarious if you take more than two seconds to think about it.” I laughed at the absurdity of it. “Why would one find that in any way funny?” His face, torn between shock and fear. “Because it simply wasn’t my fault. My mother was a queen. You really think her death wouldn’t have been catastrophic in pushing me into reality? Her powers imploded onto his ship trapping his men and otherwise cursing him for his foolishness. He later went on to have children with another woman and never returned to the sea.” I sighed, looking up at the sky, not wanting to make any more eye contact than necessary. “But you said he died a watery death?” His head tilted like a puppy’s. “AH, yes. He drowned in a river when the net he cast caught his foot and then hung him just under the water. It was an excruciating death, almost the same he gave my mother. I just happened to be in the area so his death was pinned on me.” The silence that followed was suffocating. It was then that I faced Thendril. “Now, why do you need me?” 

[bethoftheblvd]

I can’t stand this music video

[cuteiceprincesslove]

luvtessascott pour toi 😉 - Stéphane Lambiel "Ne Me Quitte Pas" 😭😍😭😍😭😍😭😍😭

[hannapop]

Oh crap. I am not emotionally prepared for another press tour. 

[goofunkel]

why did you hug me 

you wont find my christmas spirit there

because i have none

[catstiel]

being in the pit during a concert last night was the most intimate experience i've ever had