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I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.’

Lewis Carroll (via liquidlightandrunningtrees)

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A Little Night Music.

On cold nights when the air was clearer than the mind, I would hear music. 

From beyond the cluttered walls of my shop it'd come dancing in, inviting me to waltz through my windows and lose myself in the tall dark forests of high-standing pines. When the moon was brightest, the music would come, relentless and zealous as tumbling thundershowers. It flowed down the mountainsides and splashed against the steppes like something tangible; blanketing the world in waves of fiddle-song. I would lift the silver latch with shaking fingers and find myself floating away; drifting across the snow and leaving a trail of frost to silver it in my wake. The moon gave me a guiding light to find my way through the tree line, but even if it didn't, my everything knew how and where to follow the music. It resonated the deeper I went into the woods; another layer of dreaming. The tree themselves; with dryad or without, seemed to sing with it. The choir of copses hummed and chimed; staccato laughter in their leaves intermingling with rippling sound. I ducked away from the earnest reach of swaying spirits in the trees and parted curtains of swirling snowflakes. The frozen brooks and silent streams were ribbons of ivory in the starlight. Elves had woven crafts into the trees beside the river--art; or fishing tools. They dyed the night with color and I wavered through mesh of crimson and mauve, feet picking up from a skip to a run. Running to the music. Running away from everything else. When the music swells to its mightiest, and the earth itself seems to hold its breath is when I find him. Tonight is no different, and yet, entirely new. He stands cloaked in moony hues of gray and white; blue skin fading into pale glamour; everything cerulean and snow. His face; creased with laughter, beaming greetings. There was a wickedness and a wildness to him; in the way he held his arms and the way in which he plays. He stands waist-deep in water frozen save for were it touches him; crowned in watercress and freshwater pearls. "You've really got to stop doing this," is what I said to him every night, as it is what I say to him now. Nereus never stopped smiling. His fiddling trailed off on a high, sweet note that makes the icicles ripple on the surrounding trees. "I really must," he confesses. We share a smile. We share a touch, a moment. A kiss that hums and a dance that comes not from his music, but from our hearts, our dreams, and our distant memories. We kiss until the sun comes up and birdsong takes the place of fiddling, dreams and dance fade to bedhead & tangled sheets, and a cluttered shop blots the woods out, one messy wall at a time.

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-gaping up at Nereus, folds her arms, then unfolds them, putting her hands on her hips--or, actually, she isn’t sure what to do with her hands, simply flailing them for a moment before balling them into frostbitten fists at her sides, her cheeks still platinum and her dark eyes wide.- “No? Then how do you explain--” -but pauses at the sound of this new song, her hand rising to settle over her heart, which is trying to climb up her throat, or explode, she really isn’t sure, her mouth opening in a silent “O” of surprise she cannot fully voice (at least, not as she’d like to).- “...you move the stars for no one.” -and covers her mouth with both hands.-

snow-tow replied to your post: snow-tow replied to your post:tesla-tow replied to…

Snow: ..-flushes silvery and looks around, then, shaking her head, sings opposite Nereus in quiet disbelief, her big brown eyes finally drifting back to his face- “I’m under your spell…how else would it be? Anyone would notice me–it’s magic, I can tell…!“

Nereus: -His smile brightens once she begins to sing, a warm chuckle bubbling past his lips- ‘‘Oh, it’s a strange magic, I’ve got a strange magic… You’re walking meadows in my mind, making waves across my time… Oh no.’‘ - He pauses momentarily as the realization of his words settle in. The smile is gone from his face, brows furrowed as bright eyes watch Snow. His expression is a mix of feelings; confusion, surprise, wariness. He’s entirely unsure how to exactly feel- ‘‘… I’m under your spell, nothing I can do.’‘ -His smile slowly returned, but this time it was unsure, wary, but also hopeful.- ‘‘ You just took my soul with you.’‘

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nereus-tow replied to your quote:nereus-tow replied to your post:completely...

… rico don’t tempt me because I will.

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nereus-tow replied to your post:completely unrelated but I am watching Until Dawn... oh gosh same? It made me want to make a wendigo so badly. REPLY nereus-tow liked your post:completely unrelated but I am watching Until Dawn... ignore bolin-tow liked your post:completely unrelated but I am watching Until Dawn... ignore miranda-tow liked your post:completely unrelated but I am watching Until Dawn...

I’m not saying let’s make a pack of wendigos

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completely unrelated but I am watching Until Dawn playthroughs and I wanna make a wendigo

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-stares at Nereus with a mixture of bewilderment and distant enchantment, forever unsure of what to make of him, but especially now--watching him smile, listening to him sing, and just basking in the presence of his unexpected everything--a little perplexed and a lot more cautious, curiosity, as always, fighting against her so-called better instincts, her fingers gingerly reaching out to twine her fingers through Nereus’s other set, now holding onto both his hands, voice a wavering alto soft as, well. A certain falling namesake, joined by a timid, longing smile that tugs at her ruby lips.- “...You worked...your charm so well...finally I knew, everything I dreamed was true. You made me believe--!” -and takes her hands back, silver in the face and mortified, eyes wide.- “What on Earth., I--you--” -lifts a finger warningly at Nereus, sputtering.- “Is--is this you? Did you...? Where’s your fiddle?” -eyes him suspiciously, then looks around, heart hammering.- “Ohmygods.”

snow-tow replied to your post: snow-tow replied to your post:tesla-tow replied to…

Snow: ..-flushes silvery and looks around, then, shaking her head, sings opposite Nereus in quiet disbelief, her big brown eyes finally drifting back to his face- “I’m under your spell…how else would it be? Anyone would notice me–it’s magic, I can tell…!“

Nereus: -His smile brightens once she begins to sing, a warm chuckle bubbling past his lips- ‘‘Oh, it’s a strange magic, I’ve got a strange magic… You’re walking meadows in my mind, making waves across my time… Oh no.’‘ - He pauses momentarily as the realization of his words settle in. The smile is gone from his face, brows furrowed as bright eyes watch Snow. His expression is a mix of feelings; confusion, surprise, wariness. He’s entirely unsure how to exactly feel- ‘‘… I’m under your spell, nothing I can do.’‘ -His smile slowly returned, but this time it was unsure, wary, but also hopeful.- ‘‘ You just took my soul with you.’‘

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 this photo absolutely looks like a PSA about car insurance 

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Janet Montgomery

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“You think me a fool.”

Keep reading

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and I am mad exhausted because I couldn’t sleep at all last night after all 

but I’ll reply to stuff eventually. -v-

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Mary & Tituba in ‘From Within’

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Snatches of Conversation

“Moy Kniaz!” 

The name, usually wrapped in a snarl of barbed wire and tension for him, drew no visceral reaction from Tahno Pajari other than a turn of the head. The voice was familiar; and welcome, accompanied by an even more welcome sight of a figure in white, gliding forward in the grand hall with a skip in her step, arms outstretched.

“Snow,” he greeted her, swooping in to meet her embrace with a kiss to each chilly cheek. “You’re out!” 

“It’s a shop, not a prison,” Snow said, hoping it sounded more like a decision and less like a mantra. She must’ve passed (or Tahno paid her some courtesy), because the vampire nodded and offered her his arm, silver eyes smiling.

“You’ve been well?” Snow inquired, linking her arm through Tahno’s own once she was sure they’d finished their hug. It wasn’t often the snow maiden felt safe enough to engulf others--for their sake, or for hers. On the one hand, unnecessary frostbite. On the other, super unnecessary melting. 

“I’ve been--” Tahno caught Louis’s eye through the small throng and nodded. The incubus made a slight face at him under his mask, indigo eyes laughing as he tipped Tahno a salute. Snow caught the look between them and lifted a brow. Tahno looked back down at her, dryly. “It’s complicated.”

“Why is it always complicated with you, my little one?” Snow inquired fondly, patting his arm. “I still remember you when you were very little, trying to run away from home with nothing but a scarf and a daydream.” And bruises. And tears that froze ruby on the air.

“And look at me now,” Tahno deadpanned, “No scarf. Character development, nyet?” Snow threw back her head with a silvery laugh, turning in place to take Tahno’s hands in her own. The prince smiled slightly, squeezing her frost-laced fingers. 

“Give me the first dance of the evening?” Snow asked brightly, then faltered. Over Tahno’s shoulder, she could see him beyond where the thin waif with curly hair (Quinton) and his burly accomplice; handsome on a format of giant (Jamie)--she hadn’t expected he’d come, for some reason. All those high cheekbones and light eyes, the glamour faded somewhat--so she presumed, for an amphibious quality hung about him that was no less appealing, but off-putting nonetheless. Or--not off-putting. Unexpected.

“Nereus,” Snow said quietly. Tahno feigned disinterest, turning to try and look in the direction of the fiddler fey, but Snow snatched him back around, eyes wide. “Nope, nothing, nyet, there’s nothing to see here--”

“Who is that?” Tahno asked, voice mock-bored. “He’s cute.” Snow swatted his arm, cheeks turning blue with an unexpected blush. 

“No one, he’s nobody, it’s nothing, dancing? Dancing we should be dancing.” Tahno smiled smugly and bowed a little, taking Snow up on her offer at long last.

“Fine, fine, da. As you wish.”

Nereus, meanwhile, stalled nearby, speaking in a low voice to an incubus in a pale gray mask with a long nose on nothing in particular--each patiently waiting for their chance to cut in.

* * * 

One moment his wine was in his hand, the next, it was gone. 

Startled in spite of himself, the god of the substance taken from him looked ‘round in time to see a flash of ginger hair, wound up and styled in Rococo fashion, interwoven with beads and lace. The freckled face beneath it had been powdered and colored with rosy cheeks, the gown of scarlet and intricacy covered a frame usually fitted with something much more modern.

Not that he’d been looking, of course.

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” Jenna’s voice was airy, but Dyn swore he could detect a note of exasperation in her voice. Though perhaps not with him. Hopefully not with him. The deity smoothed a hand over his front and tried a smile, which was met with a thinly-veiled look of disdain. Okay, maybe it was with him. But he could still work with that. Somehow. 

“Has it?” His choice of words was met with Jenna taking a long sip of Dyn’s wine, and the god pressed his lips together to keep from outwardly smiling. “Ah. Yes. So it has. That’s unfortunate. I suppose pleasantries are in order?” Jenna’s silent drink of wine gave him absolutely no clues. Dyn worked his jaw beneath his beard and the celebratory theatric shrank somewhat, sighing faintly and squaring his shoulders.

“Alright, then, I suppose you’ve just come to glare at me for one reason or another. Most people do. Especially at events such as this. I don’t know what it is you’re expecting, exactly, but I’ll be damned if--” 

“A dance, maybe?”

She had finished the wine, and he was suddenly struck with the realization that perhaps she wasn’t angry--but acting. How that’d escaped him went almost beyond even his clever comprehension. Dionysus blinked, suddenly quite aware of his surroundings, of himself, and of her. 

Jenna was smiling.

“It might be a good place to start.”

Bacchus’s smile bloomed in reply, and he clapped his hands together.

“Well--if that’s all--”

“It’s not,” Jenna interrupted gently, putting the wineglass down and instead picking up one of his hands to lay it on her waist.

“But it is, as I said, a start.”

* * *

“He should’ve been here by now,” Oscar murmured, morosely wirling the wine in his glass and looking around the grandiose ballroom. To his immediate left, Charles and his lanky friend Newt were making grotesque faces at their phones like two ugly stepsisters in Prince Charming clothing. The Brothers Grimm; the Maxwell-Barringtons’ choice of attire, shone in its own way amidst the other glittering jewels decorating the ballroom this evening. Oscar had rather hoped Moineau would come, but the half-siren seemed adamant about staying home. Something about “not belonging or it being proper”, which Oscar argued vehemently about until Moineau had simply said he was too tired to go at all.

 Disinclined to leave Charles to his own devices, Oscar agreed to attend with him instead--all while being hit on by a golden-haired, smarmy incubus (and later apologized to by his well-seeming but completely put-out fairy boyfriend), narrowly avoiding stampedes of children, and feeling just a bit queasy from all the rich food.

“Lighten up, darling,” Charles said airily. “I’m here. Penny’s here--” Newt wiggled his fingers in Oscar’s general direction, using his thumb to scroll through the appropriate selfies on the other phoenix’s phone, “Luke’s somewhere being delicious as per. There’s plenty of people who’d kill to dance with you so, really, you can just make the most of it.” Charles caught Oscar’s gloomy expression and sighed, putting a glass of punch directly into the architect’s steady, tatted hand. “For everything else, there’s copious amounts of alcohol.”

“Yes, but--” Oscar was cut off by the sound of doors opening high above. He swore the Muses; the ladies of the house, must’ve amplified the sound for the sheer effect of the moment. The room, still milling, softened somehow; briefly. Up above, on the stairs, a figure nervously padded onto the steps with gentle clacks of new shiny white boots.

Dressed in light blue material the color of the dawn sky with just a splash of platinum cloud cover not yet cleared off by the sun (matching his eyes almost exactly; though less poetically, in his mind), a glass saber on his side, and an anxious expression on an angular face accentuated by hair that had finally obeyed the laws of styling to the point of something less a curtain and more a frame, stood Moineau. Around him was a faint energy; a draw, not unlike a fey glamour, really. The hum of distant waves and singing gulls followed his steps down the stairwell, a faint sash of silver trailing behind him as well like the Milky Way itself, glittering and catching the light.

Oscar watched him in awe; his smile slow to start, but giddy. Disbelieving. Full of joy, he practically floated toward Moineau in reply, and the half-siren smiled, half-bowing with hesitant modesty. Oscar watched him with a look of pure astonishment; of impassioned fascination--

But he was not the only one.

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angel-tow replied to your post:.

he said g’night to me before he left. it’s a friday tho so i guess he’s merely out. plus it’s easter weekend so maybe h’es at his friend’s apartment, i think he goes there on short holidays

bless u thanks for the info. \.A./ <3

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okay I must shower