#but at least there's a sea of stars above you and the moon is glowing and the wind is whispering through the oak trees

[whorety-k]

Ebony Coasts [Part 1]

Happy Mermay everybody!! I'm deciding to come out of the woodworks and actually write something because of the brain worms all of my favorite writers are giving me. I decided on some Corvus Corax love today because I feel like he's often part of the forgotten Primarchs in fanfiction (and I'm also a Raven Guard girlie <3).

Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Reader (second person POV)

Song recommendation: The Night Does Not Belong To God - Sleep Token

"And you remember everything / Only till the sun recedes once again / And the night comes down like heaven."

Warnings: Ocean mentions / potential thalassophobia

Word Count: 2.2k

[Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7 (NSFW)]

The full moon above hung in the sky like a beacon, illuminating the ebb and flow of the tides. Stars were all but drowned out by its glow, glimmers of the crashing waves reflecting what little light they put out. As it so often did this time of night, the chill settled deep into your bones. Still you were at ease.

You were never quite sure what called you out to the ocean so late in the night, and for whatever reason 'The waves are calming,' wasn't enough for your friends and coworkers to get off of your back. It had become a habit to gaze at the stars as a stress-reliever after your recent move closer to the coast. The two-hour work commute had taken its toll on your psyche, and you have not regretted your choice to find an apartment closer to your workplace.

What you now lacked in commute stress, you more than made up for stressing over your newest case. Coastline conservation was your forte; you were the one often called in to solve complex cases, and yet this one seemed to leave you puzzled each time. From kids tearing up the natural flora or an illegal succulent harvesting operation, you had been able to solve every situation that had been thrown your way before, but this situation didn't match any of the patterns you had trained yourself to look for.

It stumped you.

Caves were dug practically overnight into the cliffside, then left completely uninhabited by the time you found them. No one man could have accomplished such a feat without at least a noise complaint from the houses on the cliff above.

Random caches of sea glass, precious stones, jewelry, and other shiny objects were tucked away within pits in the caverns as if hidden for later. Interestingly enough, these caches seemed to grow in size if they were left untouched. The last hoard you had taken as evidence resulted in that particular cave being completely abandoned overnight, often filled in.

And most puzzling: there were no other actual signs of anyone ever having tread there. No tools, no trash, no foot prints. Nothing but the little stores of trinkets. It was infuriating. Whatever punks had been tearing up the coastline were masters at their craft.

Tonight, you were determined to catch the bastards that had been giving you stress once and for all. You even had the local authorities on speed dial (despite your distrust in them properly handling the situation) in case anyone decided to get violent.

A gust of frigid wind draws you from your thoughts. The night isn't getting any younger, and you need to get down to the cave. You hug your windbreaker jacket closer to your body as you wander back down the metal dock, boots clunking loudly across the water. The crackle of gravelly sand crunching replaces the heavy thumps as you descend onto the illuminated beachfront.

You almost lose track of time as you travel along the high tides. You've walked this particular beach head a hundred times at nearly all times of day, and by now it's all beginning to blur together. You force yourself to focus on the present this time, fiddling with the moonstone pendant around your neck. You had taken it from the last cave for study, but when it solved absolutely nothing, you decided to keep it as a token to remember what you were working towards. ‘A stone of new beginnings’, they say. Maybe it'll be the beginning of actually solving this damned case.

A cavity in the cliff face finally comes into view. From this distance, the high tide creates a shallow cove that appears to fill part of the cavern. There aren't any tracks other than your own as you approach. Whoever created the small structure must not have returned to it just yet.

A flicker of white catches your eye.

You come to a dead stop.

It barely registers that you're just at the maw of the cavern when you remember how to breathe. You quietly chastise yourself with an annoyed huff. Doing this job for as long as you have, you really should be more used to the way the reflections on the water’s surface play tricks on you, especially when at nightfall. With a shake of your head, you take a step into the thin layer of salty water covering the floor of the cavern. You silently thank the waders you wear for keeping your feet dry.

The moonlight doesn't reach farther than a few meters in the darkness of the space, you note as you tread deeper into its embrace. Without the wind chill, it is far warmer than the marine layer settling just outside. Your hand fishes into an inner jacket pocket to retrieve your flashlight–

Splash!

…Of course you'd drop it. Right now, of all times. Professional.

You kneel down into the sparkling abyss and feel around for the waterproof torch, letting out a sigh of relief when its plastic casing finds your fingers. You grasp the pesky light and stand back up to onyx orbs peering directly into yours.

You blink. It blinks.

A flurry of movement torrents the cave as rapid splashing fills the air. In your panic, you slip on the wet stones and fall back into the water as the jet-and-alabaster creature looms before you, eyes boring into your very core. This thing is huge. Its skin gleams unnaturally white, rippling with lithe muscles as it leans down over you, trapping you between its muscular arms. You desperately look up into its (his?) stony face as you try to sprawl backwards, searching for any purchase in the puddle currently soaking your backside. It stops you with a large clawed hand on your chest, pinning you down firmly to the flooded floor. The creature (man?) is delicate enough not to slice you open.

“Stop.”

You freeze. He stills. Did he just speak–?

“Your efforts are fruitless. Cease this before you harm yourself.” The deep voice that comes from the man is rough, as if it is not often used. “Please,” it adds, quieter.

You stare up at the man like cornered prey, but you heed his words and stop your fight. The hand on your chest briefly trails to your neck, claw catching on something before shifting to cradle your back. He lifts your upper half until you are sitting upright once again, assuring you'll hold the position before he retrieves his hand.

The moon and proximity allow you to finally get a semi-decent look at the man before you. He must be at least three meters tall, even leaning over slightly. Long black hair frames a strong, admittedly handsome face. His blunt, wispy bangs just barely hide black eyebrows knit with concern and amusement. Webbed ear-fins hide amongst his ebony hair in the dark, a gradient of charcoal grey at their edges. Your eyes respectfully shy away from his athletic chest to the gills tucked along his ribcage. When he finally moves back enough for you to fully sit upright, you notice the dorsal fin that trails down his entire back, leading into a tail that looks as if its melting into the water below. His fins drape over him like the softest silks, sharing that charcoal gradient from what you can see in the dark.

Your eyes widen at the sight, and the giant seems to catch on.

“Why do you continue to return here, little human?” he inquires.

You look back up at his face to once again see that perfectly neutral expression. It frightens you to know that he knows you've been here before, when you had no idea he even existed until just now. Finding your voice takes an embarrassingly long time. “...I…”, you start, voice laced with thinly veiled awe, “...work in coastal habitat conservation. I've been trying to figure out who was vandalizing protected areas on this beach head.”

The man’s head cocks to the side curiously, the only indication that he had heard you. It's his turn to observe you now– at least, you think that's what he's doing from the subtle shifts of the muscles surrounding his eyes. The fully black scleras do not make his gaze clear in the low light, but you swear you can see how his expression seems to fall.

“I am no vandal. I am merely an inhabitant, and I do not appreciate such accusations,” he growls.

Your words get lost in your throat as you straighten up and move to apologize, instinct kicking into to reassure the creature you've just met that you didn't mean to imply that he was a vandal. If anything, in hindsight, you're the asshole raiding his home.

You're cut off when he raises a hand to silence you, softly shaking his head. He seems disappointed, but the wave passes him by. Firmly, he presses, “I intend to stay here, and I would hope that you will be of no trouble for me to do just that.” You don't miss how he clasps his clawed hands together before him.

You quickly nod your head, shifting to stand back up. The chill of the sea water soaking through your clothes down into your waders is starting to become too much. Your body begins to tremble. With an unsteady voice, you croak out, “Nope! No problem here! Technically, it's my job to protect your habitat, so…” You voice drifts off as you realize you're either going to have to:

A. Convince the world that mermaids exist, or,

B. Lie on your report.

…And telling the world about merfolk sounds like a lot more paperwork than you're willing to do in this lifetime. You can't imagine what horrors bureaucracy and media would do to this (so far) gentle giant. If he exists, there's certainly more of his kind and you are not about to accidentally start an illegal merfolk poaching trade.

A quiet huff leaves the pale merman, and you focus back up on him. It takes a moment for you to realize he's laughing at your crisis. You fold your arms, body still shuddering from the chill. “Your secret is safe with me,” you declare, confidently standing up straight.

The merfolk nods in response, clearly amused by the whole situation despite the grim countenance that colors him. A silent staring contest commences between the two of you, gentle sounds of crashing waves filling the air from outside of the cavern. The scattered moonlight causes his scales to glitter like obsidian. You get the feeling that you're going to be watched from the shadows to assure you keep your promise, and you're not sure how to feel about it.

His soft voice breaks the silence, notably warmer. “You will be returning here again regardless.”

It's not a question; it's a statement, and you reckon it's not an incorrect one. You defend yourself, “It's not every day that I discover something out of my childhood fantasies is real and causing me hassles with my job.”

Your comment earns you another soft huff of a laugh. It's the best you'll get out of him, you assume. “It is not every day that a human raids my den and steals my belongings,” he chides.

Sputtering at his accusation, you avert your gaze and draw your lips into a tight line. The heat in your cheeks could burn a hole through steel. “I didn't know! I... can't exactly get those back for you until they're cleared out of evidence, but I will try.”

The answer seems to charm and please him. “That would be pleasant.”

Another bout of silence fills the cavern as you feel yourself being studied. Awkwardly, you tell the merfolk your name, extending an arm out for a handshake.

The man stares at it blankly, blinking once before he places his hand on top of yours. It's not correct, but at least he has the spirit. Now that you're not in a panic, you notice just how cold his hand is on yours. “You may call me Corvus Corax,” he says, withdrawing, “Is it normal for your kind to shake as you do?”

You cross your arms over your chest, rubbing your hands over the wet jacket covering your upper arms. “Not particularly. I'm wet and it's freezing,” you jest, giving Corvus a smile.

The words have little weight on Corvus Corax. Cold and wet are his normal. If hypothermia doesn't take you, embarrassment and culture shock certainly will. You look down at your clammy hands.

“I should get home before I freeze to death,” you state bluntly, wincing as a breeze from the mouth of the cave causes the wet windbreaker to stick to your back.

Corvus nods, simply staring. You aren't sure what you're expecting when you give him a wave, but the sheer amount of nothing he seems to give only serves to intrigue you further. You can feel his eyes on you as you turn to exit the cave, mentally preparing yourself to falsify a report about a group of ne’er-do-wells digging into the cliff face for an unknown reason and how they narrowly evaded identification… however unbelievable it is. You step out of the cave in a distracted daze, still convincing yourself of everything as your boots crack on the gravel once more.

You know you'll be returning. Corvus knows you'll be returning. Gingerly, with trembling hands, you reach up to fiddle with your pendant once more to ground yourself when you have a jarring realization.

That bastard took your necklace.

-------------------------------------------

[Part 2]

[wildstar25]

Arsay Nun

B A S I C S

Name Arsay Nūn Nicknames None, her name doesn't shorten well (call her Ars and you will be on the wrong end of her blade ^^) Age ARR -> 22 (+5 years in lifestream stasis that Arsay is completely unaware of) Dawntrail -> 25 (+5 years) Nameday 3rd Sun of the Third Umbral Moon Race Miqo'te, "Greeter of the Star" (a.k.a: Keeper/Seeker mix [South Shroud/U tribe] ) Gender She/Her Probably non-binary but has a job so she ain't got time to worry about all of that... Orientation Bisexual, Polyromantic Profession Adventurer, Warrior of Light & Darkness, Scion of the Seventh Dawn, Full time kitty cat

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C  T S

Hair Midnight Blue with patches of red tip patterning concentrated around the back and sides of her head! Thick with the slightest bit of wave (often gets brushed out) Eyes Ruby Red Skin Very Light Olive with white facial stripes and darker pigmented nose. Tans well but never sticks for long. Tattoos/scars One visible scar on the cheek, multiple around her body which get glammed over. After endwalker, her right hand has a high concentration of scaring around the knuckles & palm (A consequence of her final fight in ultima thul and the proceeding surgery needed to reset the incorrectly healed bones.) She has various arcane geometric patterns marked into her skin in aetheric ink. One at the back of her neck, one on each forearm right above the inner elbow, one banded around her ankle. They are also glammed over to be invisible to the naked eye, but those who are well attuned to seeing aether would see them glow faintly as Arsay casts summoning spells.

F A M I L Y

Parents Sapir Nun & U'hbi Tia (deceased 1552, 6th astral era, killed in combat to the first wave of Garlean invaders in Doma)

Emrara Emra (Guardian/Adoptive Aunt, very much alive in the south sea isles)

Siblings Alphinaud and Alisaie (adopted younger siblings) Grandparents: Unknown and/or deceased In-laws and Other: G'raha (Husband), Y'shtola (Wife) Y'mhitra (Sister in law) Generally main scion members are family to her in different ways Cid and Nero (Weird Uncles) U'odh Nunh (unconfirmed but most likely half first cousin) (There are three female face 4 miqo'te in the U tribe and I HC that those three are the most closely related to Arsay's Dad in some way I've yet to really piece together.) Pets Couscous the carbuncle, Fish the Chocobo

S K I L L S

Abilities Physical: -Multiple Combat styles (Dual blades, Pole arm, Single blade, Hand to Hand, Marksmanship, Knife throwing) -Typical scouting techniques (invisibility, tracking, assassination, can move without making a sound) -Greater agility, dexterity, flexibility, balance, and strength -High Stamina -Strong Swimmer -Great Climber Magical: -Advanced Aetheric Manipulation (Elemental Conversion, Creation) -Summoning, Channelling (Dreadwyrm Trance available at moments notice) Other: -Knows how to sail a ship -Can navigate on land and sea without a map or compass -Can rally and inspire others to achieve great things together!

Hobbies: - Monster Hunting - Fishing - Frontlines - Crystalline Conflict (recreational league) - General exploring/mystery hunting&solving

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Her big heart! She'd do anything for the people she cares about Worst Negative: Terrible sense of self-worth. Needs to do things for other people or she goes insane with anxiety and guilt. Hates being looked after.

L I K E S

Colors: Red! Its her favourite. Smells: the ocean, the breeze through the forest, tropical zones with humidity in the air, her partners Textures: Furs, Leathers, Silky or soft textiles. Drinks: Spiced Chai, Coffee with Cardamom, Citrus of any type and Water

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: nope, the only smoke from her is her smoke bombs Drinks: only socially, and not a whole lot. Does not like feeling out of control of herself. Mount Issuance: Probably! Tataru would help her get it all set up at least Been Arrested: Almost but she always gets out of it UvU

Tagged by: @eriyu Thank you so much!! 💙 Tagging: @nivienne-grovant @baublegums @astraveil @yukupo-lalapo @eli-leam (and anyone else who wants to do it! I feel like I'm pretty late to the game on this lol)

[vennilavee]

i. Poseidon's Cove

blood & pearls masterlist

summary: the warmth of the sun on your bare skin is a treasure.

word count: 1.2k

It’s unfamiliar to you, the way the shores of this lake speak to the creatures of the sea. Usually, you can understand the push and pull, the give and take of the currents. No matter how calm or angry they are.

But here, it is stagnant. Stagnant and steady, as if nothing moves. As if nothing grows- time passes, but nothing comes of it. The moon never gives way to the sun here, but you would never be able to tell. Green is painted in broad strokes beyond the borders of the lake, framed with flowers in colors that you’ve never seen before. Not in the sea at least.

In the sea. You aren’t supposed to be here, anyway. In this foreign land where you’ve been forbidden to venture to. You are meant to be a shining, shimmering pearl, a beacon, in the ocean. Only stationed to be a gate between fickle waters. The visage of salvation. An oasis to anyone who might pass.

Or a curse.

The push and pull of the water is your home, but you wish to get lost in the clouds.

It wasn’t like you intended to stay out here, where the sky seems to touch the water, for almost four full days. Your lungs fill up with fresh air, expelling any ounce of water from your body as you breathe.

The sun is too warm on your skin to let go of it. You feel as though you might perish if you don’t feel its warmth glazed over your bare arms and chest. Just five more minutes, and you’ll head back into the water. Where you belong.

Just five more minutes…

But time doesn’t pass here, and five minutes becomes hours, days, perhaps a week or two.

A giant boulder the size of two ships sits in the middle of this pond that is deep enough to be a lake. What else are you meant to do besides make a home of it? Water brushes up against the jagged edges of your rock with each breath you take. The water sparkles in the sun, a stark contrast to the murky blue that you were born into.

But its depth whispers menacingly to you, like an unwanted friend. You shouldn’t be here, but you twist your fingers sharply to shut out the noise.

It is quiet again, only the sound of the sun and the whistle of the wind to keep you company. You make a tiny home for yourself at the pond as well, bringing some of your favorite glittery spiraled and coned shells with you to the grassy shoreline. Some even sit on the boulder in the middle of the pond- it’s very clear that someone has been living here. Even if it’s not supposed to be you.

The sun dips into the horizon, painting the sky in purples and oranges, in hues that have never existed before your tender eyes. Nighttime is hazy from underwater and you never want to forget the sight of the stars for as long as you live. You lay in the grass and point upwards, as if you could simply just catch one with the wave of your wrist. 

It glistens and glows above the water and you finally see clearly.

A pirate once told you that she caught a piece of stardust with her own two hands. You wonder if this is what she meant. The stars burn brightly, tiny flames lighting up the expanse of the universe. Of the darkness.

But nothing is as dark as the deep, blue sea.

Moonlight drips over your arms and your legs as you glide around the pond, ensuring that you have no trespassers in your newly found but temporary home. It’s warm, but in a different way than the sunlight. You are a child of the moon, it is home. But your heart yearns for the sun.

You’ve lost track for how long you’ve been at this pond. Time doesn’t exist here, but you’ve witnessed exactly one full moon cycle. Staying here sounds more and more tempting by the day- you are in no rush to return back to the depths of the cold, blue sea. Into the arms of those who do not cherish your existence.

So you stay, with your feet buried deep into the dewy grass with the moon hanging high above your head. Your eyes are closed as you inhale and exhale with the rise and fall of the water.

Electricity crackles in the air.

The fairies tittering around your head suddenly zip away into hiding with no warning. You look around, asking them where they are going. Despite you laying claim to this enchanted pond, it was not yours to claim. 

A colossal shadow stands in between you and your view of the moon. Is it your vision? Are you seeing things? 

But the shadow moves closer and closer to you. You have never encountered a shadow which walks on the green Earth. Perhaps you should be afraid, and take off like the fairies did. Instead, you remain anchored in the grass. This is your sea, anyway.

The slight tremble in your hands gives nothing away.

Shadows do not have eyes, but this one stares back at you with four of them. Deep shades of red, blinking at you warily. There is no anger in this shadow’s gaze. Only mild irritation. You are a minor inconvenience to the shadow. It cuts through the night, somehow illuminating the stillness of the darkness with nothing but a simple movement.

You crane your head to look up. This is a man. No, perhaps a god.

An aggravated scoff leaves your lips.

“Do not roll your eyes at me, girl,” the shadow says with displeasure clear in his voice.  There is a hint of a roar in his tone, but his voice is quiet. You get the feeling that this is a thing that does not raise his voice very often. Because he is used to being listened to.

You’ve encountered many men, many creatures who do not listen enough.

“This water is mine,” you say with disdain, your fangs glinting in the moonlight, “You will not take it from me.”

“Do you know where you are, girl?” he says, coming out of the shadows. He is tall, perhaps taller than any creature you have come across. Resisting the urge to take a step back, you hold your ground and sink into the earth beneath you. You can feel the blooming of the seeds beneath the soil as you glare back at what can only be described as a red-eyed, pink haired demon.

Burgundy eyes meet yours, flashing black for a moment. “I’ve allowed you to stay in my domain for over a full month now-”

“Your domain?”

“I should kill you where you stand and pry your beating heart from your chest,” he hisses at you, fangs bared. Your hair glimmers and your dark eyes are hazy, as if you are underwater. 

“That’s rather grotesque,” you state plainly, “The entire ocean would come for you if you dared to even touch me.”

“Your pathetic father is no match for Ryomen Sukuna,” he says and that is when you notice the fresh blood smeared on his expansive chest.

“Oh? Is that a name that I am meant to know? To revere?” you tilt your head to the side curiously, lips curling in a mocking smile.

“You will come to fear me, you foolish girl,” Ryomen Sukuna murmurs, “You will.”

He vanishes into the darkness as quickly as he came, and you are left with nothing but thoughts of the four-armed creature who visited your lake in the middle of the night.

tags: @kentobean @misslovingpearl @aeanya @mystikalini @helenas-revenge

[hetalianskywalker]

Day 20: Stargazing

Pairing: Mer Hound x Nightsister Reader

Summary: You find Hound stargazing so you and Grizzer join him.

Author’s Note: No thoughts only fluff.

Warnings: None that I can think of

Word Count: 783

Prompt: Character A is a witch who lives by the sea. One night, while sitting by the sea and just enjoying life, they see Character B, a mermaid who has beached themself so that they can watch the beautiful moon. 

Prompt from “Mermaid or Witch Ideas” by auideas

Being one of the few remaining nightsister witches, life is a little lonely. However, you make do. You have a nice little cabin near the beach and the people here leave you be. Well maybe you’re not too alone, you have Grizzer at least until her owner has a more permanent place for her to stay.

Tonight should be a night like any other night. You sit down in the tree line above the sand, quietly watching the full moon and stars; Grizzer is asleep back at your cabin. Looking down at the beach, you notice something in the distance. Watching intently, you see a merman drag himself up onto the sand. He then sits there, staring up at the night sky.

Confused, you quietly make your way up the beach to see him better; hands glowing with green magic just in case. His red and white scales shine in the moonlight and you can see his long curly hair up in a bun. Any thought of using magic to defend yourself dies and is replaced by joy. You know exactly who that is.

Your hand glows with green magic again and you flick your wrist. The front door of your house opens and the massiff comes barreling out. She dashes for the beach, having caught the scent of her master. You can’t help but burst out laughing as she totally knocks him over.

“Grizzer!” You can hear him laugh inbetween her licks before finally ordering her to heel. She obediently sits next to him, but continues to lick him. He happily pets her in turn, but is very careful with his claws.

“Sarad?” Hound calls behind him and you happily walk out to join him. You plop down into the sand, curling into his side opposite of Grizzer.

“Get distracted by the moon?” You tease as you look up at the sky.

“Maybe for a moment.” He chuckles softly wrapping an arm around you as Grizzer places her head in his lap. “But getting to stargaze and sit with you two is even better.” You giggle in response and you all just contently sit together for a long while.

“How long before you have return to Mandalore this time?” You whisper sadly. Hound had been among of the first and only groups to escape the Coruscant Guard after the rise of the empire. While most clones from other battalions were being phased out, the empire seemed more intent to work the Coruscant Guard clones to death and then replace them. It also didn’t help that many of its members were selkies who could not leave without their cloaks. Many had vanished over time during the war and miraculously showed up in imperial hands.

While Hound was a merman, he refused to leave his mastiff behind so he ended up getting separated from the rest of his escaping group. He had ended up on your island and, seeing how exhausted and desperate he was, let him stay for a few days. Once you heard his story, you offered to watch Grizzer while he made the rest of the trip to Mandalore. He reluctantly agreed, knowing she would be safe here with you.

Once he came back though, it was revealed that Grizzer would need to live on ships or on Mandalore island while he worked. You both ended up agreeing that for now it was best she stay with someone familiar and have wide spaces to run. And over the visits, you and Hound slowly grew closer and closer.

“A few days.” Hound whispers sadly into your hair. “But it won’t be too much longer like this.”

“If you say so.” You mumble, disappointed. You don’t know if you're more disappointed by the fact he’s not staying longer or that he’ll be taking Grizzer soon. He pulls back slightly and puts his clawed hands on either side of your face.

“I mean it. The Sea Alor’s plan isn’t done yet and won’t be for a long time, but…” He stops, eyes looking away nervously.

“But?”

“I could get us three a house on Mandalore. If you’ll have me. We’ll be together a lot more and-“ You cut him off, bringing him in for a soft kiss. You blink your eyes rapidly as you pull away, trying not to cry.

“I would love that Hound. Thank you.” You can see the slight change in the color of his cheeks. You giggle as he brings you in for another kiss with the cutest smile you’ve ever seen. However, you both end up laughing as Grizzer pushes herself in between you two; you both give in and shower her in attention and affection.

[aimlesspixel]

Isat Scintillation 11

Sorry again about the chapter delays life stuff and dawntrail coming out. :P Hope you enjoy! Spoilers below the cut for Isat and 2 hats as always!

Cooking time! Bonnie starts cooking the lardons, Mira lays the pastry into the tart mold and begins decorating it, you and Isa are getting ingredients together, Nille whisks they filling keeping a close eye on Bonnie as they cook, and Odile is organizing you all.

Half an hour to bake and dinner is served!

Delicious! There isn't enough space at their table for everyone so you and Isa eat on their couch. It's quite a nice house for the size, ignoring the damaged walls. Bonnie is telling their sister about their journey.

You two admittedly didn't do much so it's fine to be on the side.

Mira - "It was originally just me and Isa, we had a uh… lot of skewers. Neither of us were very good cooks especially on the road. So Bonnies cooking was incredibly helpful." Isa - "Oh! Let me get that for ya Sif."

He's so nice! He takes your dishes and washes them for you. You get the cookware together to clean up.

Odile - "So you've been taking care of Boniface alone for a while right? I must say it is commendable taking care of another at such an age." Nille - "It can certainly be trying." Odile - "Especially with this particular specimen." She looks towards Bonnie. Bonnie - "Hey! I'm not a specinmun!"

Some particularly tough stains are on this pan(?). "A bit of Issistance please?" Stifling a laugh he takes the dish. "Dish no problem." You chuckle, a groan can be heard behind you along with some light giggling.

As you're finishing up Isa invites you to take a walk with him. A welcome invitation of course.

Down the village roads each bending and curving, following the path down the glow of light coming from some of the residences. You discuss some of the shops you see as you pass by some of the eateries and hostels still alight.

Enjoying each others company you walk further down and down until you reach the shoreline… You lag behind a moment causing Isa to proffer his hand nervously.

Slowly you take his into yours. The beach enjoys a breathtaking horizon with the moon sitting on the horizon perfectly reflected across the lightless sea. The rippling of the waves causing it to ebb and flow ever so slightly atop the surface.

You both simply stare at the sea together for a time uncountable.

"This absolutely makes up for the sprint here." "It does. I'm glad I get to share it with you, Sif." You finally tear your eye away from the darkless reflections and meet Isa's gaze. Him staring at you like this make you feel warm despite the chill wind running off the sea. Through your glove you can feel his grip tighten ever so slightly. Your breath catches as he smiles at you eyes shining.

"Would you like to follow up on that practice Sif?"

Practice? What-

Your face gets hot and cheeks are definetly flush. How could he attack here?!?! In this moment??? Aghhhhh! You barely manage to nod and he embraces you bringing your faces closer till-

-

Oh stars you feel lightheaded. He still has you so you don't fall but…

"If that's just practice I can't wait Sif."

Oh-

His voice fades away…

…

…

Some hardwood is beneath you and the stars above. You hear the sound of someone pacing on the stonework as you manage to bring yourself back up.

Stars that was embarrassing, you look over and see Isa with his hand in the call hand sign?

He eventually spots you "Oh thank goodness you're awake! Are you ok Sif?"

You think so at least he had you when you passed out so there shouldn't be any problems. You tell him as much.

"Great. Uh listen Bonnies sis doesn't have enough space for us to just drop by so we're gonna get a hotel, Mira is staying over with them but for the rest of us the Madame will be looking for some vacancies."

Well it's not like you expected someone you just met to be prepared for so many people to stay over and so late too.

"Hold on a sec" He seems to be focusing on the call. "Alright she found some are you feeling good to go?"

[debruhbot5000]

I just posted the sequel to All Gone (But Aching Misery)! The sequels title is A Crown of Sorrow (And a Ring of Rage) and you can read it here!

These fics are DP x DC crossovers about Danny being thrust into the role of King while still grieving the loss of his family. With two wars, relationships, paperwork, and Clockwork’s riddles, Danny is forced to set his grief to the side as he carries the responsibility of High King of The Infinite Realms.

Here’s a sneak peek of chapter one of A Crown of Sorrow (And a Ring of Rage)!

__—_____________________—__

Flashes of bombs and planes surround Wonder Woman as she fights her way through no man's land.

-

She must get to Steve, she can spot him waiting for her in the distance. Calling to her. Gun turrets fire rapidly at her as she blocks them with her gauntlets, rushing past barbed wire. Everything is trying to slow her down. Even her own body as she runs as if in water.

-

She’s so close, a breath away. She sees Steve, her Steve, waving her over. His bright smile shining like the sun.

-

Just as she’s about to reach for his outstretched hand he’s ripped away from her.

-

“No.” She chokes, sitting up quickly as she yanks the sweat damp sheets from her overheated body. Diana hides her teary face in her palms, breathing deeply to calm her racing heart and still her quaking hands. It was only a dream. Just another cruel dream.

Sniffing, she wipes her face as she decides to take a walk on her homeland's shores to ease her heart and mind.

She is spending the week on Themyscira for The Feast of Five. It is the Themyscirians’ most holy holiday for it honors the goddesses who took part in their creation. Yesterday they hunted in honor of Artemis and tomorrow they will feast in honor of Demeter. The days after are dedicated to worship and prayer with her sisters.

Diana has relished being in the full presence of her sisters once again. As they say, it is good to be home. While she loves her comrades in man’s world, cherishing her bonds, they can never fill the place of the sisterhood she has here. The true home she has here.

Leaving her room she walks down the stone hallways, nodding as she passes the few women still awake, finding her way to a cliff, and sliding down the rocky terrain to the white sanded beaches.

Diana closes her eyes, taking in the crashing waves, the gentle chirping of crickets, the cold sand at her feet, and the soft breeze cooling her skin. She tries to clear her mind, allowing her senses to ground her to this moment.

Breathing in she lifts her head to the twinkling sky, opening her eyes as she traces the constellations in her head. She finds Orion, one of Artemis’ favored hunters.

Diana’s gaze glides across the night sky, as she catches sight of a falling star. She follows it’s path taking a moment to give her appreciation to the goddess Asteria who guides all the fallen stars. The goddess Asteria who sends messages through them and through dreams.

What message did she mean to send Diana? Was it meant to be a cruel reminder of what she’s lost? Or was it a gentle nudge for her to let go of her heart ache?

Diana sighs, bringing her scrutiny to the sea, freezing as she watches the fallen star curve up and begin traveling parallel with the ocean.

Heading towards the island.

Concerned Diana starts running to intercept whatever this is.

Could this be the goddess Asteria answering her questions? Or a foreign invader hoping to strike when least expected?

Running around a set of boulders she’s entranced to find her falling star to be a glowing young girl with hair like the moon, floating above the sand, marveling at the scenery around her. She appears mystical with her white hair flowing around her as if she were underwater. Her expression is of joy, face bright with a larger than life smile, taking everything she sees in. As the mysterious girl turns in Diana’s direction, her bright green eyes widen as they find her behind the rock, body flinching back in fear.

Diana steps out from where she was partially hidden slowly, body open and relaxed, “Fear not child, I wish you no harm. I am Princess Diana of Themyscira, may I ask who you are?” She speaks softly, hoping to eliminate the fear dancing in the young one’s eyes.

The girl doesn’t relax, body stiffening more at Diana’s advance making her halt. At this the girl seems to look more comforted, flickering eyes steadying, “I apologize for the intrusion, Princess.” She speaks softly, an odd echo to her voice as she bows her head. “My name is Ellie and I come here with no ill intent.” She states firmly, a serious furrow to her young face.

Diana smiles, “It is nice to meet you Ellie. What brings you to my home?” She questions wondering what exactly Ellie is. She would never ask out loud, for that would be rude, however, she can’t help but notice Ellie’s lack of a heartbeat.

“I’m on a mission of sorts, to see the world. All of it and, well, Themyscira was on my list.” Ellie declares a clear passion in her eyes when she speaks of her goal. The face she wears is the same one Diana had when she used to stand on this very beach, gazing over the horizon as her heart longed for adventure. As her eyes yearned to see more, her ears to hear more, her mind to understand more.

Diana finds herself in Ellie and so does what she wished someone would have done with her.

“Come and sit with me Ellie.” Diana requests, lowering to the sand as she faces the waves. Ellie is still at first before her shoulders drop and she takes a spot to Diana’s left.

“Tell me about your travels, what have you seen so far?” Diana inquires, watching Ellie’s face brighten with innocent glee as she begins gesturing wildly, recounting story after story. Her reflecting voice holding an adoration for all she has held witness to.

[pinkvaquita]

The sad moon

♡ Pairing: Sea Fairy x Moonlight

♡ Flavor: Angst

♡ Warning: None <3

♡ Author’s note: Let's FUCKINGGO LESBIANS

♡ Aqui tienes la version en español

Do you want to hear a story?

They say that the ice tower in the middle of the sea, no matter how hard the waves hit it, has never melted even a little. She has always stood tall. Although I think you already knew that, right?

The people who spend their days and nights at this site have heard at least once in their lives a version of the story behind the mysterious tower in the middle of the sea. I have sometimes heard sailors tell it on nights when the tide is calm, nights where between boredom and the lullaby of the tide, that story as old as they are returns to their minds.

But I think almost no one has ever heard what the story was like for her.

No, I'm not talking about the woman at the top of the tower. I mean who she wanted to reach.

I don't blame them, the moon is almost always too far away to be able to tell how she felt the night this tragedy occurred. It's brutally ironic. That same remoteness was what led the events to happen as they did.

Even when you see the tower from afar, some swear they can feel it. Feel the agonizing loneliness. The unbearable need to achieve something that was impossible even for someone outside of mortals. Those who see her at high points even swear they can feel what she felt when that cruel twist of fate occurred. Oh she was so close to touching the stars, and just when she had the sky at her fingertips, the cold invaded her without letting her escape.

Can people when they travel through the sky feel in their hearts what the moon suffered while it passed before them?

The confusion of seeing a tiny dot in the sea stir, becoming more defined at an unimaginable speed. Understanding that she was that woman of the sea who looked at her from a distance every night with melancholic longing. Her surprise at seeing so much conviction in one person.

And the sadness, the horror of seeing her petrify. Without being able to do anything but be stuck in heaven as a witness of what someone was capable of doing when they went crazy with love.

How could something as beautiful as love cause so much pain? It was no longer just the pain in his heart from the day she lost her in life. It was that those glances into the distance ended up turning the almighty sea into someone who only lived and existed for the bright moon above her. Nothing else existed for her.

It is also not known how sad the moon was when it saw the havoc that remained from a romance that never was. Seeing how the inhabitants of what was once the almighty sea fell one after another, how entire cities crumbled before their eyes. Knowing that there was only one culprit behind that, and that that culprit was made into a statue for who knows how much longer.

Neither mermaids, nor fish, nor sailors or any other being that should be under her protection. Nothing was more important. She let all of that fall by the wayside because of being madly in love with someone who could barely even look back at her.

And for what? What good did that do for her? Now she is trapped and her people who knows how many years ago perished thanks to it.

No one ever heard the guilt of the moon. The guilt that she carries and carries on her every night, and will continue to carry until she feels like she has paid for the crime that was falling in love.

That is why she is the loyal trust of ships lost at sea. That is why its light pierces the crystalline waters and illuminates everything it can beneath them.

And that's why the tower in the middle of the sea has that special glow every night for as long as we can remember. She watches over her from the clouds, waiting with her same patience and characteristic wisdom for the day when someone will free her beloved from the prison that they themselves unintentionally caused.

[violetlunette]

Father of the Bride_Part 1

A Princess Bride AU with Silver and Lilia

Ao3 Version

Silver was raised in the woods of Briar Valley since he had been found alone as a baby. There weren’t many visitors, as only three ever came: the Prince of Land, Malleus, whom Lilia mentored when he was younger, and the Captain of the Guard, Baul, who often came looking for the Prince with his grandson, Sebek. Yet, despite this, Silver was never lonely, as he always had his animal companions and, above all, his beloved father with him. Lilia found Silver years before and took him in as his own, despite the baby being a human and him a fae. Though no blood was shared between them, the two adore one another more than anything. As such, whenever they were together, there was only happiness. However, when Silver was around seven years old, he was afraid that was about to change. “What’s wrong?” Lilia asked the young boy. He was preparing to catch a boat leaving that day and was saying his final goodbye before parting ways. Silver looked up with eyes that resembled the aurora in the far north. Though usually bright as the stars, today there was a cloud of worry in them as he stared at his father. “I have a bad feeling,” he admitted in a tiny voice, shifting in the doorway of their home. His head dropped as he pressed his hands over his heart, which pumped with unease. “What if I never see you again?” Lilia laughed off the worry, not the least bit worried. “Don’t be silly! Of course, you will,” he told the lad, ruffling his moon-colored hair, which sparkled in the glow of the rising sun. “But what if something happens to you?” “Nothing will happen. I go on trips all the time!” The confidence the man had bordered on arrogance as if he believed nothing bad could ever happen to him personally. And if it did, it wouldn’t be a big problem. Even so, there was a weight pushing down on Silver’s gut, filling him with a nasty feeling of forebode. He rubbed a fist against his eyes, which were tired from waking so early. “But…” Lilia leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be fine,” he assured the boy, giving him a tight squeeze. Silver bit his lip. “Promise?” he said, his fingers digging into the traveler’s cloak. Lilia beamed brightly. “Promise! I’ll be back soon, okay?” Silver hesitated but nodded, releasing him. “Okay...” With that, Lilia stood with his sack and left to begin his journey. Silver watched with a heavy heart, hugging the door frame as dread grew inside him. ‘He’ll be okay,’ he told himself, attempting to pass off the feeling as an act of his imagination. ‘Father promised. He’ll come back soon.’ However… ~*~ It was over a year before Silver was able to receive news of what happened: Lilia’s ship had been attacked by the Dread Pirate, a fiendish being notorious for never leaving captives alive. Not a single one. When Silver got the news that his father was murdered, the child was filled with a rage that was only rivaled by the sorrow that threatened to drown him. More than anything, he wanted revenge. After his father’s memorial service, he even attempted to flee to the sea to find the killer. However, before Silver could even leave the yard, he was stopped by Baul. “Vanrogue wouldn’t want you to throw your life away for anything,” he told the child harshly, gripping his arm in an unyielding hold. When Silver heard this, his body shook, his hands clenched so tight, and his nails dug into his palms. “What life?” he asked thickly, choking on the words as tears streamed down his face. “Without father—what kind of life could I possibly have?” ~*~ Silver never smiled after that. Though he kept his gentle and kind heart, he was always surrounded by an air of mourning for his father, whom he missed every day. This led to him being rumored to be carved of ice or stone. Silver wished those rumors were true. At least then, Silver would no longer carry the grief that he felt in his heart. Silver’s pain was only matched by Malleus', whose sorrow was so great that winter stayed in their land for over a year.

Unlike Silver, Malleus went off to hunt the pirate who took Lilia from them. Sadly, his efforts were met with nothing, and he was eventually dragged back to the valley. There, the Prince locked himself in the tower, only accepting one visitor, Silver. Seeing Malleus was probably in more pain than he was, Silver buried his suffering and offered comfort to the other. It took time, but Silver was able to heal the pain in the prince’s heart and coax him from the depression that had taken him. Malleus took Silver in as his ward, determined to protect the one thing he had left of the teacher and friend who raised him. The nobles were dissatisfied to hear that the Draconia heir had become the guardian of a human, of all things. They argued, but once they realized the dragon would not budge, they turned their sights towards the human instead. As such, Silver’s life in the palace wasn’t the brightest. Nonetheless, Silver kept to his studies so as not to disgrace Malleus and did what he could to help the people, making him beloved among the common folk. He would have kept up his training as well; however, Malleus has insisted he give it up. He didn’t want Silver to grow up to be a soldier who could be sent to war to die. It hurt to let go of one of the things that connected Silver not just to his friend Sebek but to Lilia, yet the human respected the wish. Seeing Malleus suffer as he did, he didn’t want to add to his emotional burdens. Besides, without his father, he felt there was no longer a reason to fight. For ten years, life continued on. And then--

--

Part 2

[jentledaisies]

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙ NOW PLAYING: YANDERE!GODDESS!BLACKPINK

disclaimer: This is not in any way shape or form a representation of Jisoo, Jennie, Rosè, Lisa, or Blackpink as a whole. All reactions, actions, thoughts, words, and general emotions are fiction and created by me. The behavior shown in these reactions is toxic and unhealthy but fantasized in a romantic way for simply that, fantasy. None of this should be taken seriously or sought after in real life, or performed. please do not romanticize this behavior/mindset in real life as it is unhealthy and toxic, and if you or anyone you know is in such an environment, should be taken out of it immediately. Again, this blog is purely fiction, and all acts in this blog should remain so. ↳ None of my characters, yandere or otherwise, will ever nor would ever perform, act, or consider sexual activities of any sort without consent. full stop. Any and all sexual acts are done with the full consent of all parties taking place. i will never, ever, ever write otherwise or even consider writing otherwise. ༝༚༝༚

✎ introducing: yandere!goddess!blackpink ⤷ The four Daughters of Aphrodite, born from the goddess's tears and desperation for her own mortal lover. Tears of ichor mixed with falling stardust to create the four sisters, created to walk amongst the mortals and gods, carrying the power of such devastating love that it could bring even the gods to their knees. Four daughters, seeing over their realm, growing bored of only ever allowing others to love, never themselves, at least, never for long. Their own soulmate, crafted with a thread from the moon's core, linking them to their lover. Given their born power and personification of love, the girls were always kept hidden and restricted from finding their lover, a mortal reflecting the humanity of the mortal their mother wept over, giving birth to them. But Zeus could only hold on for so long, for denying the love goddess's love, would never turn out well. It was like denying the sons of death their sweet sins, eventually, Tarturas would be raised and Zeus would cry his ichor. Therefore Zeus allowed the fates to break the chains of destiny he had wrapped around their hearts, allowing them to find their true love, even if that true love didn't know it. None could stand in the goddess's way, for they could rival Thanatos himself if anyone stood in the way of love.

༝༚༝༚

✦ KIM JISOO ✦

⤜♡→ JISOO ⤷ Daughter of Aphrodite ⤷ Goddess of Possessive Love and Longing ⤜♡→ Has claimed her territory deep in the forest, where the fae and fauna live and the sun shines onto the nymphs in the streams ⤷ Animal Counterpart: Asian Black Bear ⤜♡→ Enjoys strolling through Seoul in her day-to-day life, going to cafes, sitting in bookstores, and collecting rare but gorgeous antiques. Doesn't have a passive way to make money like her sisters as she resembles her core power ⤷ Has her doorway to her realm hidden in an apartment above a flower shop that she owns ⤷ Personally grows a large field of flowers and trees, simply from the ethereal magic that exudes off of her ⤜♡→ Jisoo's core element is earth, given that Aphrodite laid her, the oldest, in a cradle of roses and gold when she was born

✦ KIM JENNIE ✦

⤜♡→ JENNIE ⤷ Daughter of Aphrodite ⤷ Goddess of Sensuality and Pleasure ⤜♡→ Claimed her territory in the deep, dark, sea where the jellyfish swim in glowing groups, the sharks hide in the long seaweed, and the sun shines like stars through the waves ⤷ Animal Counterpart: Moon Jellyfish ⤜♡→ Goes to Seoul to spend time shopping and eating with her friends, some of who are even big names in the fashion community ⤷ The doorway to her true home under the waves is hidden through the door to a luxury apartment ⤜♡→ Has even modeled in her free time, just for fun. But also likes to spend her time exploring the oceans between gigs. ⤜♡→ Water is her core element as when she was born, Aphrodite created her within the sea foam and shells that resembled her own birth

✦ PARK CHAEYOUNG / ROSÉ ✦

⤜♡→ CHAEYOUNG

⤷ Daughter of Aphrodite

⤷ Goddess of Desire and Seduction

⤜♡→ Claimed her territory in the bright, fluffy clouds high in the sky. The birds fly near, the sun always shines and when a rainbow arcs, she can almost touch it

⤷ Animal Counterpart: Hummingbirds

⤜♡→ When she's in Seoul she actually runs her coffee shop. All her friends come through there and it's a genuine business with friendly staff and clientele. Other than that she allows herself to fly through the sky every now and then. She enjoys having the aurae breeze through with the breezes of the Anemoi

⤷ The doorway to her home is hidden in the apartment above the café she owns

⤜♡→ Her core element is Air given that Aphrodite crafted her cradle with the early dawn clouds when the light has only just first hit it and the early morning fog that drifted up to Olympus

✦ LALISA MANOBAL / LISA ✦

⤜♡→ LALISA

⤷ Daughter of Aphrodite

⤷ Goddess of Obsession and Pure Love

⤜♡→ Claimed her territory within a boiling volcano, filled with molten lava and volcanic ash flowers. Her home is built of flame and ash and smells of burning amber

⤷ Animal Counterpart: Mongolian Wolves

⤜♡→ When in Seoul she enjoys taking dance classes with her friends. Much like her core element she's always going and active so she owns her own studio as well as trains idol trainees. As well as that she enjoys experimenting with her element, given that she's restricted from testing her powers to their full extent. But when she does test her powers she's usually with Chaeyoung and walking around Seoul

⤷ The doorway to her fiery home is hidden within a luxury penthouse, coincidentally next to her sister's as they enjoy going to each other's home

⤜♡→ Her core element is Fire, as Aphrodite cradled her in molten lava and burning amber ashes.

jentledaisies © 2024 no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion advised, your media consumption is your responsibility

[bethagain]

So I discovered OFMD Fluffvember and couldn't resist jumping in with a sweet little scene for Stede and Ed.

The prompt was: Sunrise/Sunset｜"This might seem weird, but…"

And here's what I came up with. Also on AO3 as Let's Turn the Days Upside-down.

---

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Ed’s always thought so, but it’s not something you talk about. Sure, on a clear night the stars are reliably gorgeous, and the moon makes shining furrows on the water. Clouds and silver linings, bird flocks crossing. Sometimes the sky is black above and the sea is black around you, and the ship is the only thing that seems alive in the entire circle of the world. Sometimes the sea glows silver-blue with its own light. If you’re very lucky you’ll catch a pod of dolphins glowing with phosphorescence, dancing off the bow. 

You might nod to the other guy on watch as you pass by. Tip your chin toward the stunning glow of early dawn. But you don’t talk about it. 

Unless, apparently, you are Stede Bonnet. 

Who is sitting on a rock by the sea, trousers rolled up and feet covered in sand, leaning back on his hands, eyes fixed on the sky. “Shooting star,” he says. 

Ed looks just in time to see the flash fade away. 

"You must have seen so many amazing things out there,” Stede says, still looking out over the waves. “What’s your favorite thing to see at night?"

Ed knows the obvious answer–I’m looking at him–isn’t the one he’s asking for. He settles beside Stede on the rock. The sea tonight is gentle. It rolls in steadily but softly, lines of white at the crests of tiny waves. 

Stede nudges him, shoulder to shoulder: Are you going to answer me or what?

“I don’t know.” A zig-zag of lightning on the horizon. The masts glowing with St. Elmo’s fire. Rigging lit up, sudden and sharp, in the heart of a storm. “All of it, I guess.” 

“Tell me?”

He can see it all clear in his mind, memory stacked on memory, thirty-two years at sea. “This might seem weird, but I don’t think I can.”

Stede sits with that for a while. “Can you tell me why not?”

He doesn’t have words for that either, but he has an idea. “Want to try something?”

They haven’t known each other very long. Every time Ed asks that question, he wonders if this will be the time Stede stops saying yes. 

What he gets this time is a curious half-smile. “Probably?” 

“Let’s stay up all night.”

“We’re not kids anymore,” Stede says gently. “I don’t know that I’d make it till morning.”

“We’ll plan it out,” Ed says. 

“Go on,” Stede says, and Ed thinks he’s probably humoring him but he keeps going anyway.  

Nobody’s relying on them right now. No ship, no crew. No customers, either, because even though they are innkeepers now, for real, or at least for real soon, as soon as they, y’know, open for business, they don’t actually run an inn yet. “We’ll go to bed at sunrise and get up at sunset. Picture that, life of luxury. We get to lie in bed all day.”

“And how long are we planning to go nocturnal?”

Well, not forever, because you probably can’t run an inn when you’ve got your mornings and evenings switched. Even though people are mostly paying you for the nighttime part. “A week or two?”

That bright star on the horizon is Jupiter. Mars shines red further west. The North Star anchors the sky above their heads. 

Stede leans against Ed’s side, making a line of warmth in the cool evening air. “Sure, why not?”

The first night, they walk for miles along coves and clifftops, stopping to wade in phosphorescent water, watching the tide creep in and back out again from a promontory above the sea. 

The second night, they take the rowboat out under a full moon, lie down across the benches, and watch the stars turn.

The third night, a storm rolls in across the water, sends heavy rain pattering across the beach, and sails inland on its own wind. Right in the middle of it, Ed grabs Stede’s hand and tugs him from their covered porch and down to the beach, where they stand together on the strip of sand that’s narrowed by the wind-whipped waves, arms open, and let the rain pound against their skin. And Stede laughs, as the wind turns his hair wild and rain rushes down his face, and Ed laughs with him.

The fourth night, Stede stands at the window as the stars emerge. Ed steps up beside him and hands over a mug of tea. The sea is still. The air is calm. They walk together to the water, which shines glossy and smooth under unimpeded stars. Everything’s hushed, nothing moving but the sea. Ed’s not sure who starts yawning first, but it’s contagious. “I’m tired,” he admits, at the same time as Stede says, “Can we go to bed?”

Over breakfast the next morning–started well after sunrise, and consisting of tea and toast in bed–Ed asks: “What was your favorite thing to see at night?”

Stede doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m looking at him.”

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

hi hi! love your writing and am so excited ur taking requests! i was hoping for a little Arthur and fem!reader nsfw action 😅

on the outskirts of camp, reader is eating a few raspberries after dinner and gets complimented by Arthur for help with the stew. she then teases him about getting dessert. they have to keep their banter quiet but reader knows what to say/do to make him sweat. but so does Arthur and they just threaten dirty things to each other, both trying to keep it together with others so close?

then she gets the final word by popping a berry into his mouth before sauntering smugly back to camp and leaving him there totally flustered? i basically just want them to suffer in a fun way 😂

The Mercy of Tease & Temptation

Warnings: This one is chock full of suggestiveness!

Word Count: 1,848

A/N: This one is shorter...but short and sweet and definitely a fun little tease. Hope you enjoy!

It seemed as if everyone in camp was in a better mood than normal tonight. 

The air was clear and warm, stars painted across the sky, dancing around the half-moon. The amber glow of the campfire cast across tent canvases and the trodden grass, smoke billowing into the cobalt expanse above.

Or perhaps it was the stew.

It was finally this particular night when Pearson finally allowed you to dabble with the so-called “recipe” he served day in and day out, or whatever it was he acquired from the Navy all those years ago. But you couldn’t imagine having such a limited supply of ingredients upon a ship, months out at sea. 

Meanwhile in your childhood, barefooted and rosy cheeks smeared with soil, you were often gathering wildflowers and herbs to dry and cook with on the homestead your family nestled in. Your mother, God rest her soul, taught you how to make even the simplest of meals taste like a delectable dish from the kitchens of Saint Denis, or at least how she described it. That’s where supposedly your grandparents were from, thus starting a tradition that passed down to your generation. 

Even when you yourself hadn’t experienced such a delight, you held those memories near and dear, and served to others whenever applicable. Cooking was your passion and you made a personal goal to share your love with others, whether it be in a glamorous city or just throwing a few ingredients together in camp. You were a few years into your outlaw life and Pearson held rule over the food stores. You hoped to weasel your way in the moment a spoonful of bland...mush...passed your lips. 

Sure, you contributed your fair share of meat to the coffer, subtly suggested adding some oregano or mushroom to liven up the tastebuds, but the old coot wasn’t having it. 

You don’t know what stars settled into alignment that made him change his mind, but he finally stepped back and allowed you to the pot. Now, it almost seemed as if the whole camp was in celebration. Some were helping themselves to seconds. Even Bill and surprisingly Micah were complimenting the taste in their roundabout ways. 

“Think you could cook like this every night?” Karen had asked after gathering her second helping. “Don’t think I could go back to eatin’ what it was before!” 

You had glanced over at Pearson when she said that, noting the look of poorly hidden irritation on his face. It may as well be the first and last time in the kitchen. 

But even Dutch himself seemed to be swayed by your masterpiece, sporting a huge grin beneath his moustache as he savored every spoonful. If you were lucky, maybe he’d “order” you to help Pearson from now on.  

Despite your own filling helping, enjoying the savory flavors aroused your sweet tooth afterward. You’d grabbed a handful of raspberries and settled on a log toward the edge of camp, watching from afar as everyone else eagerly finished the last of their meals. Popping a berry into your mouth, the sweet and tart medley danced on your tongue, washing away the last notes of your dinner. 

A flicker of movement caught your eye. Turning directly towards the source, a smile crept onto your lips as you saw who it was. Arthur, ever so large and lumbering, making his way toward you. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted. 

“Hey there,” you responded, patting the empty space beside you. “Care to join me?” 

He did just that, settling himself down on the log, letting out a groan as he did so. “That stew was somethin’ else,” he sighed, leaning back to pat his stomach. “You sure you ain’t work at a restaurant before joinin’ us?” 

You giggled at this. “Arthur, I’ve told you before, I learned from my momma. Besides, you can take some credit too. You did help me.” 

You were no stranger to skirting through fields and wandering into forests for ingredients, especially by yourself. Arthur however insisted to accompany you for protection. It was unnecessary, but you did thoroughly enjoy his company. The knowledge he held about certain plants was welcomed as it made gathering much quicker than originally anticipated, turning what would have taken at least half the day into a few hours. 

Arthur chuckled himself, shaking his head in denial. “Nah, it’s all you, darlin’. I jus’ wanted to make sure you was safe.” 

“And made my job easier by gathering all the right ingredients,” you reminded him. “Don’t think anyone else coulda done it better.” 

A small smile appeared on his face, ducking his head in a telltale sign of the rarely shown softer side he possessed. It was much better than him immediately denying any sort of compliment towards him, which he often did early on in your relationship with him. 

“I reckon you’re the winner here,” he finally said, giving you a sidelong glance. “Ain’t ever seen anyone so happy to eat stew before.” 

“Just contributing in my own way,” you responded with a grin. “Momma used to get so excited watching everyone enjoy her cooking, might as well make the most of her knowledge.” 

“Then let's hope ol’ Pearson lets you back in after tonight,” Arthur chuckled once again, sitting up to cast his gaze across the camp, toward the man himself finally helping himself to a serving. 

“Maybe,” you shrugged, hoping he wasn’t too disgruntled after everyone clearly showing their preference. You placed another raspberry in your mouth and held another out to Arthur. “Care for dessert?” 

Arthur glanced at your hand and took one with a smile. “Surprised you ain’t make anything outta these.” 

“I could next time,” you said thoughtfully. “Nice raspberry pie sound good?” 

He hummed in response, his tongue flicking out to consume the berry. “Ain’t had a good pie in a while...love to taste yours.” 

While an innocent comment, you couldn’t help but to smirk. You and Arthur were not strangers to one another intimately. “That so?” you giggled lightly. “Well Arthur...my pie is always ready to eat.” 

He gave you a look of confusion, though it only took him a few seconds to understand your true meaning. He snorted and shook his head. “You serious?” he laughed. 

You grinned at him again. “You did say you’d love to...so why not?” you rested your hands on either side of you, arching your back and flipping your hair in a suggestive pose. 

Arthur looked you up and down. Even in the dimness of night, there was a certain gleam to his eye for the briefest of a second before he turned his head away. “We’re in camp, sweetheart...” he murmured, though failed to hide the interest in his voice. 

“Even better,” you said, reaching to trace your fingers along his arm. He tensed at your touch, prompting him to look back to you once again. Batting your eyelashes, your hand moved onto his thigh. 

There seemed to be a shift in his demeanor. His gaze locked to yours, eyes narrowing in thought, “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, ya know?” he spoke lowly. 

The tone in his voice nearly cast a shiver down your spine. “My favorite type,” you countered, giving his thigh a squeeze. 

He groaned at your touch, every muscle flexing before you. “If we wasn’t here—” 

“You’d do what, exactly?” you prompted him, your voice light and innocent. The hand on his thigh trailed up, tracing along his midline to the exposed triangle of skin on his chest. “Unless you wanted to...take me right here.” 

He huffed in response, like a green stallion, ready to burst with boundless energy. “Keep goin’ and I might,” he growled. 

A smirk painted your face, pleased with how easy it was to rile him up. “Oh, Mr. Morgan...how do you expect to do that? Surely that would attract some attention?” 

“Not ‘less I bind that pretty lil’ mouth of yours,” he rumbled. 

A vivid image flashed in your mind. The thought of his bandana wrapped around your face, tied up like a damsel while you were completely at his mercy. It was simply a fantasy; you hadn’t dared asking him to perform anything of the sort before, but damn did it make you...excited. 

“Keep me quiet, like you’re robbin’ me?” you quirked an eyebrow at him. “Take me like the big, bad outlaw you are?” 

A flicker of surprise crossed his face. “You don’t mean that, do ya?” 

“I do,” you whispered your confirmation, running your hand down his torso, tracing your finger along the cylindrical, cool metal of the bullets. “Always wanted to know what it was like, gettin' tied up by you...” 

As he took your words into consideration, a smirk slowly appeared across his face. “That make you feel some type o’ way, do it?” 

A hum rumbled in your chest as your palm idled along the handle of his side gun, purposely hovering close to a certain, sensitive spot of his body. “Like you won’t believe,” you speak in a honeyed voice. 

Arthur’s hand suddenly shot out, gripping your wrist with an almost painful force. You nearly reeled back in surprise, until he leaned close, his stare boring into your very soul. “Ya sure you want that?” he questioned slowly, his tone holding the same air of intimidation that made its presence during robberies. 

You sucked in a sharp breath of air. You never knew how much this could turn you on until this moment. The very idea of him taking you right here and now, upon this half-rotted log just out of earshot of the others, brought forth a new wave of pure need. The temptation to submit to him and let him use you to his advantage until you were a melted mess. 

A thousand ideas whipping through your head in whichever manner this could happen, and to execute it successfully to leave you both feeling satisfied. But...they were only ideas. And you were only playing as a tease. 

You smiled innocently at him as he stared you down in ever growing impatience for your response. As dastardly as his behavior was sometimes, he’d never hurt you, nor even attempt something without your consent. The next move weighed delicately on your response, a determination whether to unleash both of your pent-up need, or just let it fizzle out, leaving neither of you satisfied. 

With a grasp of clarity, you instead opted for a third route. There were two raspberries left in your hand, and you quickly popped one of the two into Arthur’s mouth. 

He made an oddly muffled sound, immediately releasing you and leaning back in surprise, nearly spitting the berry out in the process. His eyes betrayed both confusion and infuriation as he tried to collect himself again. 

You only smirked, popping the last berry into your mouth before standing up and beginning to saunter back into camp, swaying your hips as you did. You glanced over your shoulder and said to him, “I’ll be down by the water in an hour.” 

You’d be at his mercy soon enough. 

[fellstcr]

—  the vines that keep you tethered . // drabble

            slumber  was  a  quiet  thing.  a  slow  thing.  it  had  stitched  her  broken  form  together  ,  once.  before  then  ,  it  had  cradled  the  form  that  had  come  before  —  until  time  was  CUT  SHORT  and  sublime  heart  remained  dormant  and  in  wait.

                  it  was  a  revealing  thing  ,  and  the  blue  sea  star  ,  displaced  from  the  heavens  it  normally  drifted  through  ,  now  burned  in  the  darkness  high  above  its  new  ,  impossible  realm.  she  could  make  out  her  own  ,  for  the  faintest  spare  traces  of  her  beloved  land  flowed  in  their  veins.  like  vines  they  tethered  her.  for  even  adrift  through  time  once  more  ,  their  joy  and  their  sorrow  was  hers. 

          but  a  star  could  only  see  so  far  as  the  sky  remained  clear.  as  the  winter  set  in  ,  it  disappeared  into  the  heavens   ,  wrought  by  cloud  and  storm.  a  whisper  caught  her  ear.  a  cry.  a  shout. 

         and  she  remembered  climbing  up  the  tower’s  steps  and  finding  a  lost  soul  drenched  in  shadow.  she  remembered  the  bittersweet  tears  of  beloved  ones  as  her  eyes  smiled  upon  them  once  again.  then  rubble  and  smoke  ,  the  scent  of  fire  and  the  cries  of  SLAUGHTER  as  soldiers  fought  and  died  with  but  a  swing  of  the  sword  ,  the  arc  of  a  lance. 

            dragon  eyes  shot  open  and  pierced  through  dark  ,  bright  and  glowing  ,  and  still  unseeing.  caught  in  the  throes  of  a  storm  as  PAST  and  PRESENT  collided.  

                             how  long  do  you  intend  to  sleep  this  time...?

                                                       “—!!!”

             byleth  jolted  upright.  clawed  at  sheets.  unraveled  them  from  the  slick  of  cold  sweat  as  she  forced  air  into  her  lungs.  in.  out.  IN.  OUT.  her  lips  parted  ,  desperate  to  release  the  scream  lodged  deep  in  her  throat.  but  nothing  came. 

            eventually  ,  byleth’s  eyes  adjusted  to  the  dim.  her  room...?  no.  —  yes.  just  not  her  dormitory  room.   she  was  –  STILL  HERE.  trapped  ,  in  another  realm  ,  where  the  stars  were  different  and  fódlan’s  war  was  far  away.  byleth  hissed  and  glanced  about.             this  place  ...  it  was  as  barren  as  she  had  left  it.  no  anchor  to  be  found  —  save  for  her  single  remaining  houseplant  guarding  her  from  her  windowsill. 

           she  remembered  ...  so  much  more  than  that.

           as  soon  as  she  caught  her  breath  ,  byleth  launched  herself  from  her  bed.�� she  stumbled  forth  to  the  desk  just  beyond  her  bedside.  unsteady  hands  scrambled  in  the  dim  moonlight  for  a  pen.  then  her  journal  ,  whose  pages  had  laid  untouched  in  her  haze.  haste  gave  way  to  DESPERATION  as  the  memories  continued  to  rise  and  fall  and  crash  all  around  like  waves  buffeting  a  ship  at  sea.  she  turned  to  a  blank  page— 

        —  or  ,  what  SHOULD  HAVE  BEEN  a  blank  page.  her  own  faded  handwriting  stared  back.

                26th of the Ethereal Moon , Imp. Year 1185.       It seems that yesterday would have been the Millennium Festival...

         byleth  stilled.  that  entry  hadn’t  been  there  before.  she  turned  the  page.

                31st of the Guardian Moon. , Imp. Year  1185.         The Empire knows we have reclaimed Garreg Mach. However, they will find retaking it another matter entirely. But, there’s something else that troubles me...

                1st of the Pegasus Moon , Imp. Year 1185.       Dimitri continues to be inconsolable. His need for revenge clouds his judgement. I worry for him, and for the state of Faerghus. In the very least, however, Felix’s father, Rodrigue, has answered our summons for reinforcements...

        page  after  page  ,  her  lopsided  scrawl  had  penned  in  dates  byleth  hadn’t  recently  written.  pages  that  had  once  been  blank  now  held  the  proof  of  her  the  war’s  long  efforts.  until—

                1st of the Lone Moon , Imp. Year 1185.

       At the end of the Lone Moon, at Dimitri’s demand, the Knights of Faerghus and the Church of Seiros will claim, and cross the Bridge of Myrddin. Afterwards, our troops will continue to make our way south, towards Enbarr...

         the  journal  thumped  onto  byleth’s  desk  face.  her  hands  hovered  in  the  space  its  weight  had  once  filled.  wobbling  on  her  feet  ,  byleth  stumbled  backwards.  her  body  was  a  DEAD  WEIGHT  atop  her  bed  and  tangled  blankets  as  she  sank  back  down. 

            her  fingers  curled  into  her  palm.

            her  breath  caught  in  her  throat. 

            then  ,  she  was  (  tilting  /  falling  )  staring  at  the  ceiling  ,  piecing  together  the  FRAGMENTS  of  time  that  flickered  past  her  mind’s  eye.  it  all  threaded  together  slowly  ,  like  the  spiderweb  cracks  in  the  plaster  above.

         it was soon after announced that his sentence had been carried out.

                                       GO  AWAY.                i  will  use  you  and  your  friends—

      it’s  not  compassion  for  THIS  fool  that  brought  our  army  so  far.

                       WE’RE  THE  SAME  ,  YOU  AND  I  .

           (  the  sick  in  her  writhed.  )

        do  you  remember  what  i  told  you  ,  professor?                  there’s  far  more  to  you  than  —

                      the  repulsive  ,  blood-stained  (  traitor  .  murderer  .  )  monster  you  see-

             —  war does not define you , nor what you mean to us.

                 (  and  so  ,  byleth  turned  over.  )

          in  the  very  least  ,  she’d  managed  to  keep  her  promise  to  them  after  all.  her  blue  lions.

                                 ashe  ... 

         ( we promised five years ago we'd meet here and now! )

                                                                                                  sylvain  ... 

              ( you're as pretty as ever, and that's the only thing that matters. )

                                  ingrid  ,                                                           felix  ... 

(  it'll be nice to fight alongside each other. just like old times.                                        fancy meeting you here. a welcome surprise. )

                                         annette  and  mercedes  ....

            (  i always knew in my heart that we'd meet again!

                            getting to see you and everyone else again makes having to leave my family feel less difficult.  )

                                                                                                                                ...  dedue.

                                 (  your highness! apologies for the late arrival.  )

            the  world  remained  quiet  and  still.  the  night  reigned  on  ,  and  byleth  stared  into  the  shadows  as  they  climbed  in  tandem  with  the  pale  moonlight  from  her  window. 

            light  and  shadow.              despair  and  hope.              relief  and  regret. 

                      it  all  tangled  inside  of  her  as  byleth’s  memories  became  clearer.  only  —  there  was  still  something  missing.  she  could  feel  it  ,  as  if  the  answer  dangled  right  before  her  upon  a  string  ;  as  though  the  answer  remained  JUST  outside  of  her  reach.

         —  i  entrust  the  young  prince  and  the  future  of  faerghus  to  you.

          sighing  softly  ,  byleth  dragged  herself  from  her  bedside  and  staggered  to  her  feet.  every  movement  was  like  pulling  a  cart  full  of  iron.  every  movement  was  trudging  forward  with  her  pockets  full  of  stones. 

                          DON’T  GIVE  UP  ON  ME  ,  PROFESSOR.

           still  ,  byleth  dared  a  step.  then  another.  gathered  towels  and  clothes  more  befitting  of  the  night.  stepped  again  ,  and  retreated  to  the  washroom  where  her  eyes  gleamed  and  glowed  green  in  the  mirror.  (  wincing  —  byleth  looked  away.  )

            a  sword  swings  only  as  it  is  bid  ...                         that’s  monstrous.

                                          —   i still trust in you, with all of my heart.

           exhaustion  may  still  weigh  heavy  on  her  ,  but  byleth  had  slept  for  long  enough.  besides  ,  she  had  made  a  promise.  and  her  vow  ,  she  intended  to  keep.

[kepesktribe]

Writers game: First sentences.

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven't written ten fics, share as many first-sentences as you have.

(I haven't written a fic in a while, so RP's is going to have to do. Luckily I have a few AU's in progress. Also... I may do more than just a sentence for each. Some aren't the start of the AU though, since my rp partner made some of the starters... but they are part of my first reply to the starters.)

Tagged: @elveny Thank you so much! I actually enjoyed this one because I get to show a bit of my AUs and writing. I think I have too many AUs. Lmao

Tagging: This is a lot... so I am going to just say anyone who wants to do it.

The princess and the merman. (Sybil x Abela fairytale AU)

Once there was a prince of the sea who had been lost since he was little. His memories carried the voices of family, grown distant through time, and the glow of light from above.

2. Knightly Memoria (Janlenoux x Adelphel amnesia AU. With the help of Sybil, the two live in Gridania and work for Sybil under fake identities as members of his squadrons. Jan loses his memories after an accident.)

Sybil paced the edges of a newly formed hole in Issom-Har. From above, a remainder of last night's rain dropped from a leaf to slip under his collar.

3. Knightly Memoria 2.0 (Janlenoux x Adelphel. Role reversal amnesia AU. This time Adelphel is the one to lose his memory while out helping Abela in "The Hundred Throes".)

Steel clashed against steel, two daggers against a single broad sword and a shield. Janlenoux spun as he came in with his shield to block a rather well done but slow strike of one of Meuliaire's blades.

4. Blood Dripped Rose (Another victim, devoid of blood. A single card decorated with the stamp of a blood dripped rose. "I'm Sorry." Written in shaken handwritting. {Vampire Florentel/Detective Sorrel AU})

The Jeweled Crozier, ever bustling with life regardless of anything happening elsewhere in Ishgard. Merchants called out to get the attention of possible customers. Tableware, blankets, easy to store foods. Each stall housed unique wares to fit anyone's needs. People haggling filled the air and children ran between one person and another.

5. Beneath the Stars (Prophet Florentel and disgraced hero Sorrel AU)

Fire rained down upon stone and soil, smoke filling the air and choking it. Even the moon hid from the sight below. Lingering monsters prowled the destroyed town, feeding upon inhabitants that had not made it out. Silence followed the sounds of despair, deafening in the night. Yet it was that silence, a bubble around the town, that soon was heard the slow treading of footsteps. The ringing bell of boots, purposeful in making, splitting the air.

6. Wilted Wings (Angst AU Florentel x Sorrel. Literally made this AU for the pain. At least they will get a happy ending... eventually. Can't say the same for Aruktai and Otome in this one though.)

Kazeninotte had stayed behind, lingering as the other void users slowly began to trickle out after their moment with Sorrel. A warm smile tilted her lips as she listened to Zeneroseus complain about the energy used up and his immediate deserving of a nice nap. She didn't argue. He did deserve it.

7. Free Wings (Fluff AU Florentel x Sorrel. Takes place in WoL Sybil's timeline where Florentel (My actual shard of Azem) actually did die at birth and thus was reborn after the events of MSQ where peace mostly exists... and falls in love with Sybil's son, Sorrel. Beginning starts during an Ishgardian Ball.)

If there was one thing he wanted to be doing, it was not this. Over the heads of those gathered, stunning blue took on a veiled mask. It wasn't that he did not like these kinds of things. It was that he attracted the wrong kind of attention during them.

This is where I run out of currently active or finished AUs and I don't remember posting order of my drabbles... so you get drabbles at random from here out.

8. Scars (How my half blind Miqo bard, Mikh'to, got his face scars. Song is "My Ladies Eyes" from the 'The Last Herald-Mage' book series by Mercedes Lackey. My favorite books.)

"The days may speed, and then, I heartward hie, I flee, I fly, To see her eyes again." Mikh'to sang to the sounds of his harp, each word between a pluck of strings. Around him tavern dwellers drank and cheered to one of his most requested songs.

9. Unnamed (Janlenoux had a dream of when he got his eye scar.)

Janlenoux sighed as he leaned back into his pillows, which he had propped up against the wall at the head of the bed. As comfortable as he was, he still didn't like how he was made to rest for a few days. Reaching a hand up, he hovered it over his bandaged eye but refused to touch the still fresh wound.

10. Unnamed (Pasithea, as her Ancient self, while working on a project... a flower whose spores strengthen the gift of soul sight. It.. uh.. fails.)

Bright, curious eyes peered at the oddly shaped, large flower. "Oh, I think I shall have to rework the size. Perhaps remove the sporehead and settle for a more elegant, petal design too. I have created something much too unsightly."

[firetreeclans]

Moon 0 - Greenleaf

Cinderspeck receives his nine lives and is named Cinderstar. He names Roseflight as deputy

A crescent moon hung low in the sky, casting its meager light upon the calm ocean waters. In the night, two cats walked along the shore. 

The past moon cycle brought powerful wind storms and flooding to FogClan's camp, causing many cats to lose their lives. Among those cats were their elderly leader, Palestar, who’s old bones couldn’t keep up with the force of the tide, and his deputy, Cranewhisker, who drowned trying to save him, leaving FogClan without leadership.

It was a small miracle that their medicine cat, Spidershade, survived the storm, so at the very least they had their connection to their ancestors intact and someone to guide their new leader along the swollen river delta and up to the Moonsprings.

“Cinderspeck, it has to be you,” Spidershade repeated the words she spoke just last night, and the young tom flattened his ears.

“I know.” Cinderspeck said quietly. And he did know. Everyone knew. Everyone else who survived saw the same Omen that Spidershade did last night. The light of the Firetree crackled and broke off like embers–cinders– floating through the air over their new camp and toward the leader’s den. A bit on the nose for StarClan, but they must have wanted to make sure they couldn’t misunderstand their message. It had to be him.

“You’ll do well,” Spidershade said, twitching her crooked tail, “StarClan chose you for a reason. When we get to the Moonsprings, they will guide your paws.”

Cinderspeck nodded, ears still flat with anxiety. It felt like just the other night he was sleeping in the apprentice den, and now he was headed toward the Moonsprings? It just didn't feel real, and it certainly didn’t feel fair. 

Maybe the old molly sensed his tension, as she continued to speak soothingly. “All of FogClan is here to support you. And you appointed Roseflight as deputy before we left, and I know she’ll be a great choice.” 

He couldn’t help but smile a bit at that, feeling reassured. Yeah, that’s true. Roseflight seems more equipped for this job than he was, so at least there was someone to support him, and someone to take over for him. He had confirmation his first choice as a leader was a good one, and he knew he could rely on her and Spidershade.

Maybe we will survive this after all?

When the FogClan cats reached the Moonspring, the moon was at its highest point and its light now seemed intensified by the crystal clear waters before them reflecting it back. Spidershade approached the pools, silently signaling with her crooked tail for Cinderspeck to follow and drink from the one she sat beside.

Cinderspeck hadn’t actually seen the Moonspring this close before, a gentle trickling stream from the side of a rock face that spilled into three separate crystal pools, and then flowed into the river that cut through Onion- and SnagClan territory before finally opening out into FogClan’s sea. He approached cautiously, still not fully believing he had the right to be here, and leaned his face into the cool and clean water of FogClan’s Moonpool.

Even as he backed away to lay down and dream, the crisp, icy taste of the water seemed to linger in his mouth and somehow wash over his entire body, like he was drowning in it. It was cold, but he could not shiver. The cold feeling spread through his whole body until he couldn’t take it anymore and jumped up with a gasp, fur bristling and eyes wild.

Cinderspeck was suddenly in a starlit sandy hollow, and the sound of the ocean waves of his home started to roar in the distance. The fog lay low on the ground, reflecting the bluish glow of the suddenly full moon and countless stars above. He recognized this location. This was their old camp ground, before the storm…

Right, of course. This is the dream that Leaders have.

The mist swirled and an adolescent tom stepped forward toward Cinderspeck, who he did not recognize, and yet felt an unexplainable pull toward. The young tomcat was lanky, like he hadn't finished growing into his limbs yet, with shaggy fur that glittered with stars and eyes as blue as mussels shells. 

“My name is Bleakpaw. We haven’t met, but I’ve taken a special interest in you and your Clan.”

Cinderspeck felt his heart sink as the cat introduced himself. Bleakpaw? What a sad sounding name. And he ended up in StarClan before he got his warrior name?

Interrupting his thoughts, Bleakpaw continued, his voice taking a more urgent tone.

“I believe there are things only you can do, but I wouldn’t make you do them alone. I’m sending a molly and a tom together for you, she’ll arrive soon.”

He leaned forward, pressing his nose to Cinderspeck’s forehead. Another icy feeling coursed through him, this time not like the cool water of the Moonsprings, but like his heart was sinking in despair.

“With this life, I give you the strength to overcome your fears.” Bleakpaw whispered into his fur. Cinderspeck dug his claws into the sand underneath him as the sinking feeling began to swell into a burning-hot energy that rippled under his pelt.

Bleakpaw stepped back and went back into the ranks of StarClan, and Cinderspeck, for the first time in over a moon, began to feel calm.

We will survive this. Cinderspeck thought to himself, as the next cat approached him to give him life. We did survive this.

[sparrow-orion-writes]

Fairweather

Part Three: In which one man realises he can make many bad decisions for the sake of his heart.

Part One | Part Two

This one shot is set in the Cardinal Sins universe. No prior reading or knowledge is required.

POV: First Person

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, romance.

Rating and warnings for the whole fic: 18 (violence, some mild gore once or twice, one detailed sex scene, and one not-so detailed sex scene). By clicking "Read More" you confirm you are at least 18 years of age, and willing to read the above topics.

Warnings for this part: N/A

Word Count: 1,458

Synopsis: A man looking for work joins the crew of The Kelpie on an expedition, only to become fascinated with the elusive captain who keeps her face covered at all times. He recounts the tale of their journey together, and the weird and wonderful things he encountered whilst at sea.

I woke up one evening with all-consuming restlessness; since I’d heard her song it had plagued much of my dreams – as if it didn’t haunt my waking hours enough – but this time I felt I needed a walk to clear my head.

I snuck out of my room before the sun had risen and made my way out onto the deck, wishing to see the stars. Instead, I found her, staring longingly down into the waves of the sea from a perch at the side of the ship.

I cleared my throat, and her hand jumps to the mask resting on some protruding wood. "It's just me," I uttered, stepping towards her "...it's okay."

Fairweather's shoulders relaxed as she breathed, and I relaxed too, as her face turned to mine. I saw the scales that shone under the moon's glow and found myself thinking that, this time, they're not so jarring. I had played her face over in my mind a hundred times until that point, so perhaps that's not so surprising. 

"Do you miss the sea?" I asked her, seeing the sadness in her eyes.

"She's so close to me, and I can't touch her." 

"Why not?" 

"Because I-" she looked to me, before her face softened "-But you're here," her eyes widened as she jumped up. "You can pull me back out of the water with the tugboat." I blinked, only half following her words. "When I reach the water, I will be in my siren body, when I leave it I become...this," she gestured to herself "half one thing, half another." 

She reached up to undo her cloak, dropping it next to her mask. "I can't be too long, the sun will rise in the hour," frantically, she began to fumbles with her shoelaces as I watched with some level of bewilderment. By the time she had reached for the belt I could only stand awkwardly on the spot, my eyes finding the stars in the open sky. I prayed quietly to a possibly rather amused God for my eyes to stay there too.

I thought about asking her what she was doing, further would have liked to press for whether that was a good idea. By the time I’d formulated the words, still a little caught up on the fact a woman was undressing around me – part fish or not – I’d already heard the splash of her jumping into the water.

I remembered after a very small bought of panic that she would be fine regardless, and began to work on lowering the lifeboat into the water to keep myself occupied.

Through the darkness, I saw her shadow swim. I tried to focus on the boat, to give her the privacy with her home that she deserved, this felt like such an intimate moment that I shouldn’t have bore witness too. But then I watched her dart out of the water and dive back down below its surface and I almost couldn’t tear my eyes away.

I couldn’t have explained accurately how I felt for a moment. Watching her and seeing the power and the magic in action once more, the way she bent nature out of shape as I had known it, it baffled me in the best possible way. It filled me with a well of awe that stretched through every fiber of my being, enthralled by her existence.

The rope slipped a little from my hands, burning my palms, but I caught it and lowered it the rest of the way. The resounding splash of it hitting the water seemed to catch her attention as her arms leaned onto the side. Even from there, I could feel her smile.

She heaved her body from the water, the heavy tail seemingly a struggle to rest inside. For a moment, she seemed to squirm and writhe, her hands coming to her neck, where I imagined her gills were. I heaved her up with a pinch of worry, though I trusted she knew what she was doing.

Her tail began to sort of melt inwards – it’s the only way I could think to describe it – the scales becoming mostly skin and the singular thing becoming two. I looked away, hiding behind my shyness and the need for her to feel comfortable. 

She spat some water down out the side of the boat, before she stood with some level of grace and clambered up the side of the ship.

The grin on Fairweather's face was full of giddy ecstasy and for a moment, she was not my captain but something else. With little regard for the fact she was wearing nothing but a soaked shirt that barely reached her knees, she threw herself into my arms.

I, of course, was a little hesitant to wrap my arms around her at first – firstly because she smelled like seaweed, and secondly because siren or not she was still a half-naked woman – but her body pressed to mine and I felt almost incapable of doing anything else but holding her. I felt her strong biceps hold onto me, and my hands found the firm muscles in her back. Without much success, I tried not to shiver.

"Thank you so much," she whispered. 

I didn't know how to explain that as I held her in my arms, I'd do anything for her. 

"You should..." I cleared my throat, looking up at the stars "...clothes, you should put those on." Her laughter made my heart flutter, and I felt like a bashful schoolboy in its tremble. 

"You humans and your embarrassment," she laughed "...it's just a body, it doesn't mean so much, everyone has one of those." Her hand then came out to rest on my chest, the scales shining with water in the starlight and the lone flame that burned from a lantern. Her sharp nails didn't strike any fear in me, for a moment I almost wished for their pressure. "-It's our souls that matter." 

Our eyes met in the low light. Her face was so close and her hand must have felt the way my heart shook in the cavity of my chest. I felt that I would disintegrate in that second, enraptured by her, by her voice and her magic. I knew I would never find another person who could remotely compare.

"We should sleep," I whispered.

"We should," her lips brushed a smile as she looked down at me. I wanted to pull her back into my arms, drag her to the warmth of a bed and bury my soul into her voice. I did none of those things. 

"Good night, Fairweather." 

"Good night, love.”

We made a small habit of these late night rendezvous', much to the detriment of my sleeping habits. Most nights I would join her of my own accord, but one night she must have tired of waiting. She snuck into my room and tugged on my arm, barely containing a grin as she brings a finger to her lips. Though startled, I found myself biting back an amused grin.

We slipped out of the door and closed it quietly behind us. "Be careful," I whispered with a barely contained laugh of disbelief "...they’ll think we're up to something."

"Are we not?" She snorted quietly, her hand gripping my own as we headed out onto the deck. "I turn into a fish, I think that's worse than whatever they can come up with." Her hand came up to tug off the mask, stumbling towards the side of the ship. I steadied us both when she tripped, though I know she could've done it alone. She chose not to, I think, just so I would have to pull her close to me.

In the flickering lantern-lit deck, I studied her face and she studied mine as though we weren’t familiar enough with how each of us looked. Slowly, I let go of her, before she chose to pull away. I wasn’t sure at the time I could handle the heartache of her choosing to leave me.

As usual, she dived into the water and I lowered the boat. I watched her swim and I wondered if this was it for me now, if there was ever going to be another life for me to live.

Surely - I thought rather hollowly to myself - there was no point searching for another companion in life, because I was never going to find another that made me feel the way that watching her made me feel. How does a person fall in love or experience life at all, after meeting someone so magical?

What path had I chosen in her companionship?

I was still considering this when I pulled her out of the water.

--

Gen Taglist:

@gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream

@carefulpyromancer

@captain-kraken

@moonshinemagpie

[sidhewrites]

nearly lost 2/3 of my document today! that was fun!!! anyway what if some fun danger that really isn't danger but serves to foreshadow a future plot twist or two, taking place immediately after the last excerpt, linked here

WIP Info linked here

Tag list: @ambreeskyewriting @serenanymph @karangarin @feather-dancer @beautiful-mischief

Polly gave up sleeping an hour after midnight. Sylvie had returned not too long after taking off, but her silence seemed heavier than usual. It weighed on Polly's shoulders, leaving her tossing and turning on her bedroll. In the end, she sat up with a sigh. Far above her, the moon was nearly gone, a tiny sliver of light against a sea of stars.

It was beautiful and endless, a comforting sight no matter how far she felt from home. True, in the long run, Chicory was still startlingly close. Plenty of her neighbors had gone further than this, crossing through the mountain pass to visit the city on the other side. But Polly still felt terribly small, and terribly alone, except for the familiar constellations twinkling in the sky.

Guilt still sat heavy in her chest, the image of Sylvie's pain still at the forefront in her mind. Polly tried to tell herself that Sylvie deserved it, after how horribly she'd been treating people who only wanted to help, but it didn't change that Polly had hurt her.

Sylvie was a warrior, someone probably unused to being weak in front of others, no doubt less than thrilled to be forced to complete the rest of her journey at a slower pace than she'd planned, seeing as she had to guard two people who had never fought anyone in their life. A thousand and one reasons why Sylvie wouldn't like either of them, or at least resent having them around.

And despite the [something] in her that insisted Sylvie ought to apologize, Polly couldn't fight off her guilt for long. With a sigh, she tore her eyes from the sky, and looked around the camp, searching out the glow of Sylvie's hair. But rather than lying stiffly on her bedroll, Sylvie had gone to stand a little ways away, a familiar silver light shimmering behind the trees.

Slowly, careful not to wake up Marius, Polly got to her feet and picked her way over to the source of the light. "Sylvie?" she whispered into the dark. "Are you all right? I-I saw you weren't asleep..."

Polly stumbled on a root, heart leaping to her throat even as she caught herself on a tree trunk and caught her breath. A moment later, she was able to walk on, stepping more carefully than before as she made her way through the trees. "Look, I'm sorry. I just wanted to apologize for what I said earlier."

Sylvie's long hair entered into view, starlit locks braided back. She was facing away, half-hidden behind scrub brush, apparently lost in thoughts.

Polly pressed on regardless. "You're ... y-you're not miserable and mean, I'm sure. I-I mean, we dont' know you terribly well, but I know you're not especially happy to have two tag-alongs on your important mission, but we're just trying to make sure you actually make it home, you know?"

Sylvie said nothing. It wasn't unusual, but there was no helping Polly's fear that Sylvie wouldn't forgive her, or at least hadn't heard her.

"Sylvie?" she said again, stepping closer.

"It's rather late to be wandering about alone, little girl."

"It's rather late to be wandering about, fae knight," Polly echoed, trying her best to mimic Sylvie's deep cadence.

"I have my reasons."

"Look. Sylvie, can we talk? I'm...I'm sorry about what I said earlier."

Sylvie said nothing.

Polly made herself step closer. "Okay. Okay, you don't want to talk, that's fine. But could you just...could at least look at me while I grovel? ... Sylvie?"

"It's rather late, little girl," came the voice again. But this time, it was warped. A higher, more rasping cadence worked its way into the words, and Polly frowned.

"Sylvie...?"

She reached out, but before Polly could put a hand on Sylvie's shoulder, the form whipped around. There was no elegant, intimidating fae standing there, but a warped, twisted mockery of a person, with papery skin clinging to bone, rotted fangs jutting out of the mouth. It inhaled, a bone-chilling death rattle, and let out a hiss. But before it could leap out at her, a sword burst through its middle, splattering ichor all over Polly's face.

The sword withdrew. Behind the monster, Sylvie stood upright with a grunt, watching the newly made corpse fall over. "What the hell are you doing?"

Polly squeaked. She didn't dare try opening her mouth, and risk the ichor falling onto her tongue.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous the woods are for a mortal? Especially at night."

She did. Jack had taught her about countless monsters -- horse-like beings that lured you in to the river and drowned you, living trees that whispered and moved behind you until you had no hope of getting home. But -- that wasn't anything she'd ever seen before.

"Here." Sylvie shoved a handkerchief into Polly's arms. "Stop looking at me like a wounded deer."

Polly took the little swath of fabric -- unexpectedly fine for someone so coarse -- but she couldn't tear her eyes from the corpse.

"Shop girl."

Polly heard the words distantly, but didn't react until Sylvie put a heavy hand on her shoulder. She flinched, eyes shooting up to the dark gaze of the fairy knight.

"Waste no time mourning it. It was going to kill you."

Polly nodded dumbly. Distantly, she felt Sylvie take the handkerchief back, and reach up, wiping the ichor from her face. Polly let her, feeling a sting behind her eyes, tears beginning to well up. She'd seen people die before. Illnesses, old age, tragic accidents. But nothing quite like this. 

Sylvie paused, placing a finger below Polly's chin and tilting her face this way and that. "You're unhurt. Let's return to camp." With a satisfied nod, Sylvie withdrew her hand, and took a few slow steps, before she paused and looked back. "Come. I'm not going to leave you out here alone."

With another glance towards the body at her feet, Polly made herself follow Sylvie back the way they'd come.  She walked silently, only a step behind the fairy woman and careful not to trip over any hidden roots once more. But thoughts churned in her mind, the way the monster had mimicked Sylvie's voice, how ruined and warped it looked when she'd finally seen it's face.

Finally, her voice smaller than she meant it to be, Polly asked, "What was that back there?"

"A puck. A shapeshifter that takes the form of whoever it last saw."

"It didn't look like you when it turned around."

"It only needs to fool you enough to get you close. It's got sharp teeth to do the rest."

"The...the rest?"

Sylvie looked back just long enough for Polly to put the pieces together. "Oh ..." She swallowed hard as they began walking again. "Jack never told me about pucks."

Sylvie sighed pointedly.

"Please don't start." Polly bristled despite herself. "I only mean that --"

"I don't trust that boy of yours. He's not what he says he is."

"Sylvie..."

"Your soft heart blinds you to the truth of him. Or maybe you just can't sense it. I don't know enough about humans, or care to fiure it out. But he doesn't feel right. There's no magic around him, no hint suggestion of what he's made of ... nothing."

"Of course not. He told me from the start what happened to him."

"Yes, you mentioned that. But I've been around a long time, shop girl. And I've never heard of a faerie losing their magic along with their wings. Where I come from..." Sylvie frowned, her eyes distant. Where she came from, children weren't exiled -- not like that.  [Something about how we don't exile people, least of all kids] And even if they did, jack would still have Something. She was tired, however, and didn't want to argue with the girl over her friend. He seemed mostly harmless, someone who shaped his identity around Polly, and filling whatever idealized role she'd imagined up for him.

"Can I ask you another question?"

"What."

"Why do you call me shop girl? I've told you a hundred times by now, I don't run a shop."

[I don't know, tbh i have to give sylvie a different name to call polly since she really doesn't have a shop.]

Jack stirred as they reentered camp, but didn't wake up fully as he rolled over, muttering wordlessly and falling back to sleep. Polly felt her brow furrow subconsciously, unable to stop from comparing the sight of him to Sylvie. She glowed like starlight, with ethereal features that seemed cold as a midnight wind. Jack seemed practically of the earth, with sun-darkened skin, and brown hair. And true, there were parts of his past Jack hadn't told her. He'd been upfront from the start, wanting to keep his more painful memories to himself. But just because Sylvie doubted him, it didn't mean Polly had to. Sylvie was a warrior, powerful enough to summon blades out of moonlight, or conjure up cold fire with a flick of her wrist. She'd likely had years of training, if not decades. Perhaps she'd simply forgotten what it was like to be powerless. Perhaps she'd never known at all.

Polly pushed her bedroll closer to Jack's, shushing Marius as he stirred. And then, gently as she could, she reached out and took Jack's hand, before trying once more to fall asleep.