21 Sep 2013
In a universe with no Federation, where First Contact never happened, Jim Kirk is your average popular guy. On Christmas Eve, thanks to a series of strange events, Jim finds himself in a parallel universe where the Milky Way is under the control of an alien race and ends up as a servant in the residence of the Royal House of Vulcan. As he starts adapting to his new life, Jim's curiosity fucks everything up—but hey, Vulcans shouldn't have told him that he isn't allowed to enter this wing of the palace; Jim has never been good at following rules.
This is the story of how Jim Kirk became a Princess ("Prince Consort, Bones!") of the United Planets of Vulcan Kingdom.
Bookmarked by spilledinkspell
21 Oct 2017
Fandoms: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Avengers (Comics)
13 Nov 2015
When Tony is twelve, his soulmate's name appears on his wrist. Unfortunately, it's hard to find out anything at all about Steve Rogers.
It turns out there's a reason for that.
14 Jun 2015
"Where have you seen me? Did anyone else see me?" Tony turned around and the Soldier put the gun to his forehead. Tony couldn't decide if he wanted to lean into the door or the gun. "You come to me all the time. I took care of your arm the first time" he said and pointed at it. It was clad in leather today and through the glove Tony could only see the silver fingertips. The Soldier took a step back and shook his head. He seemed to concentrate hard on something and then said "No. You cried."
Also known as: The meetings between Tony and The Soldier throughout their lifes.
“Soul mates,” Deaton clarifies softly, his tone light and laced with something terribly morose.
So it’s something bad then. So it’s something to fear, or hate, or be saddened by. Stiles’ eyes dart to Derek who is stone-faced and expressionless. “Is it—a wolf thing?”
Stiles and Derek are soul mates, but that doesn't guarantee a happy ending
A feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.
"The set was busy; people bustled about with their various jobs. No one seemed to notice, or maybe they just didn’t care, as the gangly boy looked about nervously. He was all skin and bones, a track of moles across his light skin. He carried a bag across his shoulders, a coffee cup in his left hand and a curious look on his face. There was nothing remarkable looking about him at all, and perhaps, that was the most remarkable thing."