#horseshoe harbor

[migiganteknapkindispenser]

Made my way up to horseshoe harbor today

[jenjen4280]

Bumming around Assateague State Park with the Hot Wife.

Helped some horseshoe crabs back to the ocean, saw a harbor seal playing in the surf, and the ponies. The shell are from the Western North Atlantic hard-shelled clam. It was used by Native Americans for storytelling and recording important events and post-European contact as currency.

[collinrobinsonsglasses]

Too Soft to be a Pirate

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

Chapter 3: A Gentleman Pirate

Summary: Following the events of Season 1 Episode 3 of Our Flag Means Death. You meet some of Stede Bonnet's crew, you deal with a worried Izzy and end up on The Revenge.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter}

{Next Chapter}

Seated at a small bar in the Republic of Pirates, you nursed a drink, intentionally delaying your return to the dock. Izzy had given strict orders to Ivan and Fang to stay on the ship and keep watch. You missed their company today. The rest of the crew were fine to be around, but you felt the most comfortable around the two men who had saved you. You could be yourself around them. Venturing out alone felt a little intimidating. Typically, the entire crew explored the port as a group. They invited you out with them today, but the absence of Fang and Ivan left you feeling a bit out of place. You politely declined and decided to spend the day on your own. 

Earlier in the day you had found a set of fishing hooks for Fang, and a new gold earring for Ivan. He had lost his previous one after getting knocked to the ground with a rock in Stede Bonnet’s ambush. He was still pissed, and you hoped this might cheer him up a bit. During one of your previous conversations with Ed, you had inquired about Izzy’s favorite drink. You endured several minutes of teasing before he finally gave you the answer. You had a bottle of that very rum, a rich and dark blend, sitting next to the other two gifts. The anticipation of Izzy’s reaction to the gift stirred a feeling of anxiety within your chest. Nevertheless, you were determined to express your gratitude for the sword fighting lessons and for all the effort he dedicated to keeping the crew alive. 

As you idly sipped your drink, the image of the first mate’s expression from this morning lingered in your mind. Whatever had transpired between him and the captain had royally pissed off Izzy, and you expected a challenging day aboard the Queen Anne’s Revenge. Predicting an unpleasant encounter with Izzy, you remained firmly planted in your seat, hesitant to return to the ship. It was obvious to you why Edward’s actions had such a strong impact on Izzy’s mood. It was the same reason Izzy’s actions affected you. You understood the frustration of harboring emotions for someone who wasn’t able to return those feelings back. You admired how much work Izzy put into keeping Edward alive and safe. The first mate’s loyalty was what attracted you to him in the first place.  

As you were contemplating finding the energy to return back to the ship, three men entered the bar and took a seat at the table nearest to you. A young man with curly black hair, a beard and a mustache, raised his drink in exclamation “Cheers my dears!” he said, clinking glasses with the other two men at the table. 

“I still think this whole place has gotten lame”, remarked a man with a twisted beard and a striped pink shirt, “We passed three gift shops on the way to this bar”. 

“I would rather be in this bar than walking around with Captain yelling, ‘Check out this fabulous booty I’m hawkin’!’. He can’t be serious with that”, chimed in a short bald man with a horseshoe attached to his belt. 

Their banter provided a welcome distraction, and you couldn’t help but eavesdrop on their conversation. 

The man with the twisted bear and pink shirt chuckled, “How many times do you think Stede will get to introduce himself as the ‘Gentleman Pirate’ before he gets stabbed”. 

“Just once, I reckon,” replied the curly haired man, squinting his face in a nonchalant manner. 

“Stede? Stede Bonnet?” you blurted out without thinking. You recognized Stede’s name immediately. Blackbeard had spoken about this mysterious captain at length with you. Additionally, you had overheard Izzy cursing that name quite a few times over the past few days. 

As soon as you uttered Stede Bonnet’s name, all three men turned to face you. The bald man, displaying some suspicion, responded “Maybe. What’s it to you?” 

“Your captain and some of your crewmates managed to get the upper hand on our first mate a few days ago. It was quite impressive to hear about, considering that rarely ever happens,” you returned calmly. 

“Can’t argue with that,” the bald man replied, a smug grin on his face. “Yeah. I was there when it happened. It’s no surprise it went well. I’m a pretty experienced pirate, used to be in Blackbeard’s crew, and let’s just say, I’m known for being a bit of a badass.” 

The two other men at the table rolled their eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back at the man speaking. His confidence was admirable, and the thought of Izzy overhearing this conversation amused you. From your first impression, you doubted he had ever sailed with Blackbeard, but most people would probably say the same about you. 

The trio introduced themselves and extended an invitation for you to join their table. Whenever they inquired about your ship, crew and captain, you skillfully navigated around specifics. It became clear they didn’t know who you sailed for, assuming you were part of a run-of-the-mill pirate crew. They didn’t ask you very many questions, seeming more eager to share stories of their time on The Revenge. Among them, Black Pete stood out as the most enthusiastic storyteller, sharing tales filled with his heroic feats, some seeming rather fantastical.  

Roach was actually pretty intimidating once you got to know him more. He proudly showcased a large scar on his shoulder, and shared about the time he had to stitch it up on his own, after being stabbed. Despite his tough exterior, what you loved about Roach was his genuine passion for cooking. He spoke excitedly about different dishes, sharing stories and insights that showcased a softer, more human side beneath the rough pirate exterior. 

Frenchie quickly became your favorite among the three men. You discovered that he had been the one to make The Revenge’s cat flag. When the subject of the flag was broached, he defensively countered with a statement about how it’s a widely known fact that cats are plotting to take over the world, because they’re secretly witches. You assured him that you thought it made for a scary pirate flag, and after the validation, Frenchie became more comfortable talking with you. It turned out that you both played the lute and enjoyed singing. He mentioned that the crew had jam sessions quite frequently. You had a lot more in common with him than you had expected. 

These three men were so different from the pirates on Blackbeard’s crew. Talking with them felt effortless, and you found their company refreshing. After paying for their drinks and thanking them for the enjoyable conversation, you stood up to make your way back to the ship. “I hope we see you again next time we’re in Republic of Pirates”, Frenchie grinned. 

“Me too”, you replied quickly. You had a feeling you’d be seeing them a lot sooner than they expected. It all depended on Blackbeard’s decision and it was impossible to guess your captain’s next move. With the bottle of rum, fishing hooks for Fang, and the gold earring for Ivan in tow, you headed back to the Queen Anne’s Revenge. The anticipation of how Izzy would react to your gift lingered in your mind, making the journey back to the ship both exciting and nerve-wracking. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

The first mate exited Edward’s cabin, feeling a bit more at ease than he had earlier that day. Stede Bonnet, the stupid fucker, had refused to speak with Blackbeard. Now, Izzy hoped they could return to business as usual. He wished Ed would send The Revenge up in flames, but Ed was insistent on a raid. 

Fang and Ivan were on the deck, and Izzy was surprised not to find you with them. 

“Where’s your pet, Fang?”, Izzy inquired. 

Both Fang and Ivan gave nonchalant shrugs in response to Izzy’s question. “They mentioned something about wanting to explore the Republic of Pirates,” Ivan replied. 

“So, they’ve joined the rest of the crew then?” Izzy inquired, his impatience evident. 

“No. I saw them leave on their own,” Fang replied in a hushed tone, noticing the shortness in Izzy’s tone. 

Izzy felt a pang of anxiety surge within the pit of his stomach. “You two are the biggest fucking idiots I’ve ever met”, he snapped at the pair on the deck. 

“I’m sure they’re fine, boss,” Ivan stated with a perplexed tone, casting a suspicious glance at Fang. 

“They rank as one of the least threatening pirates I have ever met. That’s saying a lot, because I’ve met some shit pirates. Now they’re wandering around the Republic of Pirates alone.” Izzy snapped in frustration striding away to gaze out at the dock. “If something happens to them, Blackbeard is going to demand both your heads.” 

Izzy had hoped that by commanding Ivan and Fang to remain on the ship, you would have stayed with them. The three of you were normally inseparable. Blackbeard had explicitly instructed Izzy to ensure your safety, an order he took with utmost seriousness. Normally during shore leave, Izzy rarely mingled with the rest of the crew, but since your arrival, he kept a vigilant eye on you. He generally observed from afar, watching how effortlessly you engaged with your fellow crewmates. Regardless of their teasing, you always responded with a smile or a playful gesture of affection, seemingly unfazed by their banter. 

More time passed and Izzy's initial anxiety transformed into anger. If he hadn’t had to speak with Stede fucking Bonnet, he could have ensured your safety in this shit hole. He fucking hated the Republic of Pirates. Izzy continued to pace the length of the ship, his mind consumed by troubling thoughts. Then, you caught his eye. You were making your way back to the ship, seemingly unharmed. However, instead of relief, seeing you in one piece only reignited Izzy’s anger. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” Izzy snapped as you stepped onto the deck. 

“The Republic of Pirates,” you responded, uncertain, seeming confused at the first mate’s sudden outburst. “I got some stuff and went to a bar,” you said, quietly shrugging your shoulders. 

“You went to a bar…on your own… in the Republic of Pirates? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Izzy asked condescendingly. Observing your gaze drop to the deck, Izzy sensed your unease at being reprimanded. “If you want to go somewhere, just take one of these twats with you,” Izzy suggested in a gentler tone. 

“Next time, I’ll just invite you along, Izzy,” you said playfully, attempting to lift the mood. “You could be stuck with me for an entire day”. 

Izzy carefully studied your features. He noticed that you often seemed to make jokes at your own expense rather than towards him. It was a departure from the typical reactions he received from the rest of the crew. There was a genuineness in parts of what you said that puzzled him. Izzy could not think of a single reason you’d want to spend the day with him. “This is not a fucking joke”, Izzy replied sternly. 

“No, I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be smarter next time,” you replied apologetically. 

“Fine. The captain’s been asking for you. You can fuck off now”, Izzy replied brusquely. 

Izzy observed you heading toward the captain’s cabin before abruptly changing direction. You returned, pressing a bottle of rum into his hands and meeting his gaze. “Thank you for keeping me alive, Mr. Hands, sir,” you expressed sincerely. Without waiting for a response, you turned away just as swiftly as you arrived. 

Izzy stared down at the bottle in his hands, his features displaying a mix of bewilderment and surprise. It had been a long time since anyone had given him something, and he wasn’t quite sure how to react. You were a puzzle to him and the only certainty in his mind was that you didn’t belong on a pirate ship. With the assurance that you were safe, he could finally shift his focus to other matters. He had plenty on his plate dealing with Edward. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

The captain sat in his chair, facing the windows, and smoking a pipe. He turned his head at the sound of you entering. 

“Hey you,” he replied casually before turning back to face the window. “We’re finally going to raid that fancy man’s ship tonight”. 

“Same plan as always, then?” you inquired with curiosity. 

“Maybe,” Blackbeard replied tersely, not facing you. “After the fight, I want you, Fang, and Ivan on The Revenge with us.”

“Izzy is going to be thrilled”, you mumbled sarcastically, recalling the less-than-pleasant encounter you had with the first mate just moments ago. 

“Actually he suggested it,” Edward replied, turning his head towards you with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “He thinks you’ll get injured without Fang and Ivan looking after you. He said you’d be much safer on a ship full of Bonnet’s idiots.”

“Nice,” you replied with a glum tone. 

“Take it as a compliment. I reckon it’s just Izzy’s way of showing he cares”, Edward said, offering a reassuring wink. 

You forced a smile, appreciating the captain’s attempt to cheer you up. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

As the plans for the raid unfolded, Izzy discovered that Bonnet’s crew had fallen into the hands of the Spaniards. Swiftly, you and your crew sprang into action. A cannon ball fired across the enemy ship, hurling a man into the water. You swung on a rope alongside Ivan, landing with your feet firmly planted on the deck. 

Amid the chaos, you found a man hanging, gasping for air and cut him down. His blonde hair and fancy white blouse set him apart from the typical disheveled appearance of the pirates you’d met in the past. You realized that this blonde man was likely the Stede Bonnet you had heard so much about. You continued fighting as your captain leisurely approached the man sprawled flat on the ship’s deck. 

The raid was wrapped up quickly. Blackbeard’s men knew what they were doing. Following the raid’s conclusion, Blackbeard ordered Stede to be brought back to The Revenge realizing he had sustained a severe stab wound to the stomach. Across the ship, you and Roach exchanged glances, and you offered him a subtle wave. Roach joined Blackbeard and Stede on the first tender, after revealing that he was the closest thing The Revenge had to a medic. 

Generally after raids, there were a ton of different tasks to tackle. You joined Ivan to assist in scavenging the bodies and looting the rest of the ship. Blackbeard eventually sent away The Queen Anne’s Revenge and you ended up on Stede Bonnet’s ship with Fang, Ivan, and Izzy. Amidst the chaos of Izzy barking orders at Bonnet’s crew, you managed to slip down to find the kitchen, hoping to talk to Roach. You found him emptying a bowl of water, likely used for cleaning Stede’s wound. 

“So, part of Blackbeard’s crew, eh?” Roach asked, surprised. “It’s always the quiet ones.” 

“How’s your captain doing?” you asked with concern, gesturing to the bowl he was holding. 

“I cleaned up the wound, and I think he’ll survive,” Roach replied calmly. “The better question is, will any of us survive? Blackbeard’s on our ship, after all.” 

“I think so,” you replied sincerely. “Blackbeard once told me he keeps me around because I’m different. I know he finds your captain interesting, and the rest of you are certainly  unique.” You offered Roach a reassuring smile. 

“So, likely no torture, right?” Roach asked with a hint of disappointment in his voice. 

You shook your head no while shooting Roach a questioning glance. 

After a lengthy conversation with Roach, he kindly offered to brew you a cup of coffee, an offer you happily accepted. You knew it was going to be a long night. You carried the cup back to the main deck where you spotted Izzy surveying the crew. You slowly approached him and extended the cup. 

“What the fuck is that for?” Izzy questioned. 

“It’s coffee… to drink,” you responded flatly. 

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Obviously. Why are you giving me coffee?” 

“I know you don’t like to sleep after a raid. Just take it,” you sighed. 

He reluctantly accepted the cup of coffee, all the while keeping watch over Bonnet’s crew.

“Congratulations, Little Mouse,” Izzy sighed, fatigue evident as he observed his new crew. “You are no longer the worst pirate on the ship. Compared to this lot, you’re one of the better ones.” 

You regarded Izzy with curiosity, pondering the intentions behind his desire to have you here. When you turned back towards the scene unfolding in front of you, you exchanged a shy smile with Frenchie, who was busy hammering on the deck. Things had just become a whole lot more interesting.

{Next Chapter}

[nightmun]

Mermaid AU stuff to kick off the weekend YIPPEE!! In order we got Haniel as a rainbowfish, Otta as a banana eel, Riley as an atlantic white-spotted octopus, Bailey as a harbor seal, and ANOMA as a little drone based on a horseshoe crab (though I might change that at some point). Also bonus sketch of the mermaid AU version of @pokeblog123's Paras.

One last thing of Misty as a beta fish below the cut (spoiler for injuries/large areas of scales missing/exposed flesh, nothing too bad but wanna spoiler it just in case)

[pursuedbyamemoryy]

hi! i saw you were doing requests, and i was wondering if you could do a oneshot of reader sleeping in john's tent for the first time because its all snowy and cold :3

❄️ cold snow and warm arms ೃ࿔*

word count - 700

warnings - brief mention of death, no mention of abigail or jack, john being awkward ( love him!! ) , gn!reader

author’s note - i love writing for red dead characters!! thanks for the cute req, i hope you enjoy reading ₍ᐢ. . ᐢ₎♡!

after weeks of being up in the harsh winds and snow of colter, the van der linde gang thought they were finally out of the miserable weather. they had relocated to horseshoe overlook, a quiet camp in the heartlands of new hanover. the first week or so had been decent weather, albeit a little chilly, as it was still early spring.

however, after not even two weeks of being in the new camp they were hit with a massive cold front, which unfortunately brought snow along with it. the entirety of the camp retreated inside their tents, the grounds of horseshoe overlook the quietest it had been since the rowdy gang arrived.

the canopy you usually slept under didn’t provide nearly enough warmth for a cold night like tonight, so john had offered to let you stay with him, which you gladly agreed to. you and john hadn’t been together for very long, you only finally confessed your feelings after he was attacked by those wolves up in the mountains. when he hadn’t returned to camp after days, you regretted not speaking up about the feelings you harbored towards him, and it all came spilling out once you saw him, bloody, cold, and inches away from death once arthur and javier had brought him back to camp.

you got settled into his tent, sitting down on his bedroll. you had already changed into comfier clothes for the night, and you were waiting for john to return with some of pearson’s barely palatable stew.

a couple minutes later he came back, one bowl of stew in each hand. he sat down next to you and handed you a bowl, to which you smiled gratefully and thanked him quietly. while pearson’s stew was usually bland and not enjoyable, you were glad you had food to eat. kind of. some days if you wait too long, the stew will be boiled beyond recognition, and turns into a chunky sort of sludge. that’s when you would resort to canned peaches or beans that you had hidden away in your satchel. thankfully the stew was just about edible today.

you ate together, making small talk in between bites of stew. after that, you set your bowls aside laid down on his bedroll together.

you laid down facing him, and looked into his eyes for a moment. he looked worn out, everyone in the gang was. running from the law and being out in the snow for weeks wasn’t exactly the easiest thing. you cupped just cheek gently, being careful not to touch the stitches that ran across his face. the wolf attack had left him with nasty cuts, ones that would definitely scar, but they didn’t make him any less attractive to you. plus, not many people could say they endured and survived a wolf attack. you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, slightly off center as to not disturb the cut the that ran through the right side of his lip. he kissed back and although his kisses were a little awkward, you didn’t mind. they were sweet in their own way.

you shifted on the bedroll next to him, cuddling up to him carefully. he went stiff for a second before slowly melting into and getting more comfortable with your touch.

“warm enough?” he asks quietly, cautiously putting his arm around you as you adjust the blanket that was draped across both of you.

you nod, “yes, are you?”. he nods in response, carefully pulling you closer.

when you first got together john was not the most affectionate. partly because he was still recovering from the wolf attack, and also because he simply wasn’t used to physical touch. you noticed that despite how awkward he still felt, he was slowly becoming more comfortable around you. the way he held you close to his chest, his chin resting on top of your head made your face flush slightly.

“good night, john” you said quietly.

“good night” he responded, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

neither of you said much else, quickly falling asleep in each other’s arms. the harsh winds outside were nothing compared to how warm and safe you felt in john’s arms.

© pursuedbyamemoryy 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work

[gothgril69]

Levi Ackerman/Fem!Reader Royalty!AU

Summary: You dream of another life, a simpler one under the rays of the warm sun, where you find love and your brothers live happily.

But you're destined to serve, to be the black sheep of the family and married off to whoever your father pleases because your parents can't seem to harbor any love for you. Your brothers will serve in the war, side by side with their Chevaliers, and you'll be left to pick up the pieces or die trying.

And the one you thought always hated you, will be right by your side to catch you when you fall.

Overall Warnings: themes of sexism, minor character death, angst, depression, minor character death, smut (please check ao3 for all tags)

Chapter warnings: light smut? MDNI

Chapter Length: 8.6k

ao3 link

The shores of Mirlenas disappear into the horizon, the home you’ve known for your whole life turning into a small blip before its gone. The sea waters are rough and choppy, causing the modest boat Erwin procured to rock back and forth. He suggested traveling in a smaller boat instead of a navy vessel to appear non-threatening to Kaslogon and you had agreed to his suggestions, trusting every word of his – he has far more knowledge than you do. It would also mean less crew members and less mouths to feed on the journey. Roughly half of the ships population were your own soldiers while the others were seasoned sailors.

You lean against the wall of the ship, looking out as you sail on. The new men surrounding you regarded you as their queen, but you could sense that they were uneasy. Many of them never stray too close to you, and you notice them all laying a hand on an iron horseshoe that’s mounted in front of the quarterdeck.

“Feels strange to leave,” Levi’s voice sounds from behind you as he steps to look out at the choppy waters with you.

“It does,” you agree, eyeing him instead of the sea.

“Good day, Your Majesty,” a sailor nods at you, dipping his hat. He passes you to touch the iron horseshoe, placing a kiss on his fingers that meet the metal.

You give Levi a questioning glance. “It’s bad luck not to touch it,” he answers.

You furrow your eyebrows at him. “A sailor’s superstition I presume?”

“Yes. A woman’s presence is also bad luck.” He walks over to the horseshoe and briefly touches it with his thumb.

You scoff and harshly pat the horseshoe. “I suppose I should set up my quarters then.” You brush past him to enter the tight corridor that leads to your small bedroom. There’s enough room for a small bed and your chest with your clothing and belongings – the dark stained wood makes the space feel more cramped. Levi follows you.

“It’s just sailors’ superstitions,” he says from behind you. “You said it yourself.”

“I suppose Mikasa and Sasha are not welcome either then?” You turn around to face him, posture relaxed with your arms crossed in front of your open bedroom door.

“They are soldiers and regarded as such,” he sighs. “Just how you are their Queen.”

You hold the small knob on your door and gesture for Levi to follow you in. You all but collapse on him the moment the door is shut, allowing him to catch you and wrap his arms around your waist. “I feel as though this journey will be forever long,” you sigh, arms limp by your sides, face squished against his chest. “It has only been two weeks of travel and I have yet to do anything we’ve set out to do. I am supposed to face Zeke, but will I be too tired by then to even care? If the ocean takes me I do not think I would mind.”

“Never speak like that again,” Levi vehemently whispers to you, using a hand to tilt your face to his. “It will all be worth the effort, to face him and be there for your country, for us.”

You look back and forth between his grey irises, finding frustration and sadness within them. “I did not mean it, Levi,” you whisper. “I only wish for a break from my never ending thoughts is all.”

“Tell me what I must do to help and I will,” he whispers back, a thumb stroking your cheekbone.

You relish in the feeling of his touch, of a familiar presence there to comfort you from your treacherous thoughts. A friend – that you wish could have been there all your life – a person that might be able to stitch your heart back together without Auguste or Theo’s help. Someone that you can look to for solitude or courage to move on, someone that can offer a helping hand when you need it most. You can only hope that you are there for him as much as he is here for you.

“I just need you,” you tell him honestly. “You are my one saving grace.”

“Then I am here,” he answers instantly. “I’m here now.” Because he knows he should have been there for you sooner.

You find a surge of courage in your heart, and reach to place a small and gentle kiss on his cheek to show your appreciation of him – a gesture that may show the depth of your feelings for him.

His cheeks flush and his eyes widen with surprise, the harsh blinks his eyelids move in make you giggle, surprising both yourself and him again. “I should be on the deck.” You gently step back, removing yourself from his arms in the process. “Join me when you feel you’re able.” 

You cover your mouth to stifle a laugh, finding amusement in how much emotion you can draw out of the usually stoic man.

Levi stands still as you leave, placing two fingers on his cheek where your soft lips once were.

The top of the deck is covered in sunshine, hardly a cloud in the sky as the wind whips against the large white sails and carries you onwards. The air is balmy, more humid than you ever imagined and warmer for a late autumn day. The crew is running all over, your own soldiers following some to learn their own duties and you’re proud to see the youngest of them eagerly listening to their teachers. Erwin and Hange seem to be lost in conversation, Hange’s hands moving so fast you can hardly see them, and their grin tells you they’re enthralled in their own story.

You spot the Captain behind the wheel on the quarterdeck and lift up your skirts to climb the stairs. The man is less unruly looking than you had initially anticipated, assuming all sailors had a certain level of grime they wore as a requirement. His hair is grey, but neatly pulled back low and the wrinkles around his eyes aren’t too deep. He looks around fifty – old for a sailor. He’s not handsome by any means though, and fits the image of a sailor perfectly with rough tanned skin and slightly battered clothing. You’ve never known any different than the handsome men that worked for you at your castle. Your cheeks flush at the thought.

“Captain!” you shout over the bustling crew and waves hitting the sides of the ship.

“Your Majesty,” he greets you. “Captain Beaumont, but you may call me Charles if you please.”

“A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Captain,” you smile politely, putting your minor diplomacy skills Auguste had taught you to use. Although, you assume the Captain doesn’t prefer such pleasantries just like yourself.

“It would be an honor to have you dine with me this evening in my quarters, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you. I will knock when dinner is being served.” You nod your head and look out at the rest of the ship.

You spot Levi heading towards your soldiers, arms crossed and the blush gone from his cheeks and replaced by the stern look he gives the young ones. He yells something you can’t hear from your spot on the quarterdeck, but you see your soldiers stand tall with a salute. Erwin walks up to him and places a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to mutter in his ear. Levi follows Erwin’s movements and turns his head – you meet both their gazes. You take it as your que to join them, giving one last nod to the Captain of the ship and lifting your skirts to climb down the steps.

“Everything alright?” Erwin immediately asks once you are within a meter of them.

“Yes, of course,” you answer. “The Captain invited me to his quarters to dine with him this evening.”

Levi narrows his eyes at you, but Erwin speaks before he has the chance. “Excellent. He is a good man, but Levi has informed me of the sailors’ superstitions that do not sit well with you. Be cautious of his intentions.”

“If he is a good man then I would not need to be cautious of him, Erwin,” you calmly respond and turn to Levi. “I’d like you to guard the door.”

“Of course.” His response is instantaneous, as if he were already thinking of doing so himself.

—

Captain Beaumont opens his door wide, allowing you to see the spread of food he has on his table and a large desk that sits behind it. He gives Levi a small nod, seemingly understanding of his presence, and gestures for you to enter. You give Levi a very quick and small smile before stepping across the threshold into his quarters.

“Thank you for having me,” you state as you take a seat across from him.

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty.” He takes his own seat and begins offering you the food that lies on the table.

A neat array of a couple choice meats are on a platter, along with a row of cooked carrots and potatoes. You’re grateful for the vegetables and ample amount of meat, but you can’t help but feel guilty about indulging in such foods while the rest of the crew gets rations instead. 

You hesitantly take your fork and stab a piece of what looks like chicken for your plate, and an ample amount of carrots. You take your first bite and chew slowly – it’s bland, but you never expected it to be a delicacy by any means.

“Captain–”

“You may call me Charles while we are in private, Your Majesty,” he interrupts you.

You give him a tight lipped smile. “Charles,” you start, clearing your throat. “It’s come to my understanding that your crew has some… unusual… superstitions.”

“On the contrary, Your Majesty. My men need those superstitions to give them hope that they have done everything in their power to have a safe journey.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “That also gives them the opportunity to lose that hope if they believe someone has not contributed.”

“Perhaps, but quite honestly your presence is more bad luck than not touching the damn horseshoe,” he scoffs as he digs his knife into his piece of meat, using his fork to shovel the food into his mouth. “Quite honestly,” he says with his mouth full, “if we had our way you would be bare-breasted to please the sea, but you’re lucky the figurehead at the front of the ship does it for you.”

“Excuse you?” Anger is clear on your features as you watch the man pick food out of his teeth with his fork – you grimace. You set your own flatware down on the table.

“A woman’s bare breasts calm an angry sea,” he states, as if this were common knowledge. “It prevents any curses from being thrusted upon us.”

“Well how kind of her,” you spit out. “I think I’ve had enough for one evening. Thank you, Captain.”

You stand up from your chair, the legs screeching against the wood floor as you throw your cloth napkin down on the table, and the Captain mirrors your actions.

“Your Majesty,” he frantically says, seemingly realizing his poor mannerisms. “I did not mean to offend you, I merely wanted you to understand the men’s customs.”

“That’s quite alright, Captain, but I’ll be taking my leave,” you scoff at him and begin to make your way to the door.

“Your Majesty!” He exclaims. “Please. I do not wish to disappoint you. I just wanted to give you perspective.”

“You may do so without insulting me,” you sneer back at him, meeting his eyes with a fierce gaze.

“Please.” He gestures to your previous seat. “Let us try again. It was my mistake.”

You reluctantly sit down, but you don’t touch the meal in front of you – you’ve lost your appetite. “Need I remind you of who I am?” you question. “I’m aware of your status as Captain on this ship, but I am still your Queen and you are still a subject of Mirlenas.” You detest using your status as Queen to earn your respect, but with a man as daft as Captain Beaumont you’re not sure you have much choice.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” he apologizes. “I would like to give you insight on the views of my men on my ship. They are simple, believing that men are above women.” You stare at him with narrowed eyes as he continues. “I am not a man with such opinions.” He holds a hand to his heart. “But they were quite surprised to see a woman becoming Queen without a husband to join her as King. It is quite rare for a woman to come into such power, let alone lead a group of soldiers to enemy soil.”

“Well they can thank our enemy for putting my brothers into the ground and in turn making me Queen,” you reply. “I did not ask for this position, but I’ll be damned if I sit back and watch as my country falls apart by the hands of a man like Zeke Jaeger.” You leisurely stand up from your seat – the Captain rises quickly. “Your men have a lot to learn, and I suggest you begin teaching them how to respect their Queen. Thank you for the meal, but I’ll be retiring for the night.”

You don’t spare him a second glance and you don’t wait for him to open the door for you, instead choosing to swing open the door yourself and close it behind you swiftly. Levi raises a brow at you in question.

Your shoulders drop in his presence. “I’d like to be alone if you don’t mind. Just in my quarters,” you sigh when you see him open his mouth to speak.

How much more difficult does it have to be to convince the people of your country to be content with your ruling? That you didn’t want this just as much as they would rather see one of your brothers on the throne instead, but that you’ll still take care of them. You’ve devoted your life to your country now – traveling to an enemy country to negotiate their safety should prove that notion. Instead, you’re told that you are a daft, moronic woman who has no hope of ruling her country.

You never make it to your quarters, instead choosing to watch the waves crash into the sides of the boat as the wind carries the sails. It’s a cold night now that the sun is gone from the sky and the winds carry the chilled almost-winter air, but it’s clear and you can see the stars.

Footsteps sound behind you. “Forgive me,” Levi’s voice barely sounds over the waves. “I know you said you wanted to be alone.”

“I have forgiven you a thousand times over, Levi.” You don’t turn around to face him, only keeping your eyes on the distant stars. “You know,” you say as he finds his place by your side. “Auguste was always so knowledgeable when it came to the constellations. He always pointed out his favorites, quoting Galileo and being so much more astute than I could ever hope to be.”

His arm snakes around your waist, holding your backside to his chest – a first that you find yourself sinking into. “You miss them?” His deep voice is soft in your ear.

“Terribly,” you respond immediately, dolefully.

“Then believe they are in the stars,” he murmurs. “Believe that Auguste, Theo, and Furlan are looking down at you right now, proud that they had the chance to live by your side.”

“They would think I’m a fool,” you whisper back.

“Never.”

“Auguste would call me a dolt, and Theo would agree wholeheartedly,” you argue miserably.

“When have they ever done such a thing?” Levi questions. “They would never chastise you for being so strong, for being so resilient.” You’re quiet because you know he’s right. “You are only a dolt for thinking so.”

You laugh and relax further into his arms. “You are honest to a fault.”

Levi raises his other hand, the one not snaked around your waist, and tilts your head to the side so he can look you in the eyes. “Always,” he whispers. His eyes dip down, briefly looking at your lips, before they’re back on your own gaze in an instant.

Your own are flicking back and forth between wanting to hold his gaze so desperately, but the urge to feel his lips on yours again is overwhelming. You can’t be so desperate for affection, can you? Is it your unbearable desire to feel someone against you, for comfort or for pleasure, or is it your deepening affections for the man himself? Have you lost yourself so completely in the drowning stress? Or have you just always wanted Levi? The man who you can no longer doubt you are falling for.

“Tell me no,” Levi whispers, his lips slightly grazing your own. “Tell me you don’t want me to.” His thumb strokes your cheek softly as he holds you so delicately in his strong arms. Your pulse is thumping rapidly. You don’t have the words – you can’t speak.

You tilt your head the miniscule amount you need so that your lips are now pressed against his. The kiss is soft, but chaste and quick, much like the first one. What is technically the third is more firm, your lips now languidly moving against his as he spins you around to pull you close to him, and you lose count the more passionate the kiss grows.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him as close as possible as he does the same to you. You’ve somehow been wedged between the edge of the boat and Levi as he presses his body into yours. Your mind is swirling, lost in how he feels against your body and the realization of how fond you are of the man. The kiss is only broken when a small moan escapes you as you end up lost in the pleasure of it all.

Levi presses his forehead against yours, only barely removing some of the pressure on your body from his own. “And Auguste would say he told me so,” he breathes, a small chuckle escaping the smirk on his lips.

“Always a man of wisdom I suppose,” you breathlessly tell him. “Glances into the future we all wish we could tell.”

He leans back from you. “Always told me I’d grow fond of you one day,” he mutters, a hand resting on the side of your face. “Thought that man was a true dolt.”

You huff, a teasing glare directed at him. “How kind of you,” you quip.

“I never realized how right he was,” Levi confesses. “Always the stubborn sister of Auguste and Theo, until I watched you become a woman as I became a man. You deserve more than the world has given you, Aeron.”

“I have all that I truly need,” you disagree, because you have him, and while you miss your brothers terribly you do not feel the lingering dread of going to sleep any longer. The fear of seeing them in your dreams has dwindled, even if only slightly, and you know Levi is right when he tells you how they watch from the stars. You’re grateful you can still remember their features, fearful that you’ll forget one day. But they will live on in your heart, always, and if Levi is by your side you can accomplish anything. You can accomplish anything even if he were to leave you as well, because you are strong and it is your duty to live on for yourself and your people.

“I would give you the world if I was more than your Chevalier.” Levi takes a step back and looks down, as if realizing he is not meant to touch you.

“You are a million times more than a Chevalier, Levi,” you argue and take a step towards him so you are close once again. “What an idiotic notion that you could ever be considered less than.”

“But I am, aren’t I?” Levi meets your gaze with sadness lacing his grey irises, brows furrowed. “I have only ever been that to you. I am hardly fit to be a King by your side.”

“And you could say I am hardly fit to even be a Queen,” you dispute. “A woman with no man by her side, hardly any royal training to accompany her.” You scoff. “As if our country wants me on the throne – my ruling is hardly conventional. Do you honestly think they would mind as long as a man is there to tell me what to do?”

“I would never–”

“I know. But that is not the way our society works now, is it?” You sigh, and close your eyes for a moment before looking at him again. “You are more than just a Chevalier, Levi. I–” You love him. “I need you.”

“Then I’ll be there.” He nods, the sadness gone from his gaze and replaced by determination.

“Join me in my quarters tonight?” you inquire gently, testing the waters and seeing if there’s any hesitation in his actions.

Levi instantly takes your hand and guides the way to where you sleep soundly for the first time since your brothers joined the stars.

—

You’re in a daze. Your blouse is sticking to you uncomfortably as your corset squeezes your waist, strands of hair have plastered themselves to your forehead, and the loose skirt you’ve chosen to wear provides no comfort. You’ve found a hat to help block the harsh sun rays from your skin. 

Levi has been wearing a loose white blouse, the top two buttons undone to allow for some airflow and his normal tight uniform pants. He hides his pale skin with a hat as well to shield him from the sun, although it doesn’t stop the sweat from sticking to his skin – something you both hate the feeling of.

The ship hasn’t moved for two weeks now, stuck, stranded, in the middle of the ocean with no wind to guide it and no clouds in the sky to block the harsh rays of the sun. You’ll run out of fresh water to drink if you don’t get moving soon and the Captain has understandably cut everyone down to half their rations. 

Your anxiety is at it’s peak it seems, and not just about dwindling resources. The longer you are out at sea, the longer it takes to reach Kaslogon and negotiate with Zeke. You’ve worried your chapped bottom lip to the point of splitting, and the hem of your blouse has started to fray from so much fidgeting. Levi has tried his best to comfort you, but he knows you’ll only be pacified once you begin moving again.

“Captain, you tell me what kind of situation we’re looking at here,” Erwin huffs. “We’ve wasted enough time.” His voice is loud in the salty air of the Captain’s office, bouncing off the dark stained walls. Erwin is separated by the table you dined at two weeks ago, but it feels as though he looms over the Captain. Everyone is exhausted and running out of time and you’re growing more anxious by the second as you watch the two men argue. 

“I cannot control the weather, Commander Smith,” Captain Beaumont fires back. “Do you doubt that I have done all that I can to get this ship moving? Do you really believe that I want to be stranded in the middle of the damn ocean?”

“Well clearly–”

“Aeron,” Levi’s voice interrupts Erwin as he barges through the door into the Captain’s office. “The men. They’re fighting.”

“We’re gonna have a goddamn mutiny on our hands if you don’t get your men under control, Commander!” Captain Beaumont accuses, angrily pointing at the taller man.

Erwin ignores him in favor of rushing after Levi to the main deck. You stop the Captain from following with an arm across his chest. “Captain, I do ask that you refrain from disrespecting my soldiers.”

“I have pledged my loyalty to you alone, Your Majesty,” he scoffs. “Your Commander does not deserve such respect.”

“He does, because he is under my command,” you calmly tell him. “Try your best to remember that we are all on the same side here.” You don’t speak any further, removing your arm from across his chest as a sign to let him join everyone on the main deck – you follow promptly.

There’s absolute chaos once you’ve reached the main deck. Your men are arguing against Captain Beaumont’s, a clear line separating the two groups as Erwin, Levi, and the Captain try to calm their men down. You’ve never seen your soldiers so defiant.

You don’t waste time and immediately step on a crate that sits in front of the quarterdeck, still on the main deck. You put your thumb and a finger in your mouth and whistle loudly, loud enough that the sound pierces the noise of arguing and even has some covering their ears. Everyone looks at you bewildered – except when you meet Levi’s gaze he almost seems smug.

“Who wants to tell me what the hell is going on?” you yell at all of them. You’re exhausted, sweaty, and fed up with being on an unmoving ship for too long. Your journey has been extended by two weeks and you’re livid.

“Your Majesty!” Jean yells.

“No! You have no idea what you’re saying!” one of the Captain’s men yells at Jean. Chaos ensues.

You whistle again, louder than the first time. “If one more person speaks you’ll be sent down to the cellar to join the rats,” you seethe. You notice Armin has been cowering behind your own soldiers, observing fearfully. “Armin,” you single him out. “I’d like you to tell me what’s going on.”

The timid young man clears his throat. “Captain Beaumont’s men have accused us of not touching the horseshoe and cursing the ship.” He pauses, clearly debating his next words. “They think that’s why there’s been no wind and they want to throw someone overboard to please the sea.”

You could throw yourself overboard. “No one is going over the edge of this boat.” You jump down from the crate and stomp towards the crowd – it parts for you like the Red Sea. “You act as though nature does not have a mind of it’s own.” You look back and forth between the groups, mainly addressing Beaumont’s men. “I’m sure you have faced countless angry seas with your own men, and surely you’ve faced hardships no matter how many people participate in your beliefs.”

“Never one so callous as this!” A man interrupts you. Your glare must give him all the warning he needs when his mouth snaps shut.

“There have been tales,” Armin’s voice sounds next, surprisingly. You step into the crowd as your own soldiers part for him. His cheeks are flushed, both from embarrassment and the heat, but he continues on. “Of how the wind gods become angry with the sea god.” A few men chuckle uneasily – you listen intently. “The Anemoi wind gods take their wrath out on Poseidon, depriving him of nature’s winds and eventually unleashing their might upon him when he does not amend his wrong doings. Boreas, the cold breath of winter, shows their wrath the most. They create strong winds and rainstorms, hurricanes even if he had wronged them enough.” He hardly glances to the side out at sea. “Their wrath is coming soon.”

A strong gust of wind almost knocks your hat off.

Everyone’s eyes widen and cheers sound around you. 

“Man the sheets, lads!” Captain Beaumont’s voice rings out. Chaos ensues again, but now in radiating cheerfulness as everyone runs off to man their stations.

“Aloft, topmen!” the Captain’s secondhand yells. “Layout and loose the foretops! Man halyards and sheets!”

You swipe a hand over your face and stride over to Armin once the crowd has dispersed. “How did you know?” you ask him immediately. Levi stands at your side.

Armin blushes, glancing between you and Levi. “The Albatross.” He points out at the waters. “When they fly high, the air is light, dry, no rain. When they fly low, the air is heavy.”

“Rain is coming,” Levi says, almost absentmindedly as he looks out at the sea. Armin nods.

You smile at the young man. “Thank you.” Armin walks away with a smile.

You look over to find Levi already looking at you – you love when he does that. “You did well,” he comments.

You roll your eyes and turn to hide your smile as you begin walking away from the bustling of men. “They’re all idiots,” you deflect.

He scoffs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re just now realizing this?”

You’re about to respond when a drop of water lands in front of you, and is suddenly joined by multiple coming down harshly. It’s pouring rain, and you’ve never been happier. You take off your hat and tilt your head up to the sky to feel the rain on your skin, to allow it to wash off the grime that you’ve endured for the past two weeks. Your shoulders drop and you feel the tension disappear from your muscles, your anxiety diminishing into a small ember instead of a raging fire.

Men are shouting around you and yet you can’t find it in you to care as you make your way into the safety of your quarters. They’re rolling empty barrels everywhere, positioning them under makeshift funnels made out of fabric to capture the rain for more drinking water. Levi is hot on your heels and as soon as you close the door to your quarters he’s practically on top of you.

“How am I supposed to stay away from you now?” He questions right before his lips meet yours.

You kiss him back eagerly, only breaking away to quickly mutter, “you can’t wait until we return to Mirlenas?” and your lips are on his again, only to separate when he registers what you’ve said.

His arms are wrapped around your waist, holding you as he slightly tips you backwards in his previously impatient attempts at kissing you. “Wait for what?” he asks vacuously.

He allows you to stand straight, his grip loosening just enough, but still keeping his arms wrapped around you. You laugh nervously. “Were we not talking about the same thing?”

“Are you–” He blinks, processing. “You would allow me to claim you?”

“Why would I not?” You stare at him dumbfounded, slightly flushed from embarrassment that you’ve said the wrong thing. “If that is not what you meant, I understand–”

“No,” he interrupts. “I mean– I would–” He sighs, flustered. “I assumed you would want to wait until marriage,” he finally mumbles out.

You laugh boisterously this time. “As if anything about me screams traditional, Levi.” You grin at him.

He rolls his eyes, muttering a quiet, “shut up” before pressing his lips against yours with bruising pressure. It’s hot, and passionately impatient, as he starts to walk you back to the small bed in your cramped quarters. The back of your knees hit the edge of the thin mattress and he gently lays you down before crawling on top of you, his head bumping the wall next to you. “Fuck,” he grumbles, but still proceeds to move his lips down to your jawline and then your neck, sucking at your pulse point. 

You can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. “Levi,” you practically mewl.

He gently puts a hand over your mouth, supporting himself enough to look at you now. “If you don’t be quiet someone will hear us,” he scolds. You nod, but he still keeps his hand over your mouth as he dives back down.

His lips trail further down your décolletage and you tilt your head back to give him more access. You’re hardly breathing through your nose, unbearably still as Levi continues pressing his lips to your skin. “Breathe,” he mutters, nipping your skin lightly before he soothes it with his tongue. You whimper underneath his hand and your chest starts moving up and down as you catch your breath through your nose. His lips travel lower and he kisses at the top of your breasts that are being pushed up by your corset, your blouse revealing enough to allow him access.

You moan against his hand as he starts sucking at your skin again and nibbling enough to lightly mark the skin. Everything he’s doing to you feels heavenly, and all you want is more. Your hands have been gripping the thin bed sheets, but one flies up to grip Levi’s hair when he bites particularly hard and when you pull he groans. He lifts his head and removes his hand just to kiss you again, using his tongue to coax your mouth open as you pull on his hair again.

“Keep doing that and I don’t think I can wait to be back home,” he mutters against your lips, his voice deep and raspy.

“Then don’t,” you whisper, looking into his grey eyes. 

He sits back on his haunches, staring down at your breathless form. You’re so beautiful, he thinks to himself, observing how swollen and red your lips are from him kissing you, and the blooming marks on your breasts practically make him swell with pride – he wants nothing more than to have you now. Your skirts have fallen, revealing some of your legs and he so badly wants to squeeze your thighs, but he wants it to be so much better than what it would be here. “You deserve so much more than I could give you here,” he tells you honestly. You look sad, but it’s gone from your features in an instant.

He lies down next to you, holding you close to him now that the two of you are no longer eagerly pawing at each other. He can hardly fathom how he’s gotten here, how he’s gotten to the point of lying by your side instead of looking at you with disdain. Theo had always teased him when it was just him and Furlan by Levi’s side, always telling him he was just confused. Perhaps he saw something in Levi’s eyes that he could have never recognized as fondness at the time, and apparently so had Auguste. He knew there was more to it the moment he had asked Levi to be your Chevalier on the castle grounds instead of his own. There was a mischievous glint in his eye when he also teased about Levi’s underlying fondness for you, but he had brushed it off as your brother being an idiot – Levi knew he could never be.

You shift, pressing the side of your face into his chest despite the damp fabric. Your fingers trace his exposed skin from the top buttons of his blouse being undone, featherlight touches giving him goosebumps. He can tell you’re lost in thought.

“What is it, mon cœur?” He feels you smile against him once he’s broken you out of your trance. He uses the hand holding your body close to his to brush hair out of your face.

Your smile falls, sighing, and then clearly hesitating – you’re nervous. “Madame Elise was quite fond of you,” you state plainly, fingers still tracing light circles into his smooth skin.

He blinks, unsure of what the intonation in your voice suggests. “She practically raised me,” Levi hesitantly tells you. Your finger stutters in it’s movements before continuing.

He’s afraid to tell you about how he lived before Erwin dragged him out of that hell hole. Afraid that you won’t see him the same way anymore and the rose tinted glasses will come off to reveal the brutal truth behind his true self. The him before arriving at the castle was someone entirely different – someone you had no idea existed.

“Will you tell me more?” your soft voice asks, slightly muffled as you keep yourself close to him.

And so he does.

Levi takes his time in telling you the whole story, never omitting details or sugar coating his actions. He starts from the very beginning, when his mother was just a whore in that very same brothel you both visited, and how his father was just a one time visitor. “I barely remember her face,” he tells you sadly, holding onto the vague image of the pale woman with strikingly beautiful features. She had died when he was just a little boy, probably five or six around the time, and Madame Elise had barely allowed him to stay. How could a little boy living in a brothel be any good for business? Levi supposes she just happened to have a soft spot for the scrawny little boy with long black hair.

She took care of him for the most part, realistically only offering him the bare necessities to live. She cut his hair for him, kept him well fed and clothed, but not without a price. He became her personal scavenger, a small and unsuspecting pickpocket. It was easy money really, stealing from wealthy men and just having to sneak around to get close to them. He’d play it off as if he wasn’t there to begin with, or act like he was helping the ladies if they needed it. Everyone was in on the small business he had created for Madame Elise and would assist in any way they could. They loved having little Levi around.

Levi hesitates to tell you more, but you should know all of him – all of his flaws. As he got older the more Madame Elise expected from him. He was supposed to be stealing more, acquiring the most for her and the other ladies of the brothel, but it grew increasingly more difficult to do since he was growing into a man. He wasn’t the little runt anymore and was instead seen as another potential customer by the other men in the brothel – even by the women. They all knew him, but that didn’t stop their advances on him as a young and inexperienced teen boy. They would grope him quickly as he passed by in hopes of taking him to bed with them, taking someone who was pure and untouched by the outside world. Levi hated it, and never indulged in the company of any of them, but it didn’t take away the feeling of being seen as an object. He could hardly believe the same women that knew what that felt like would do the same to him. You tell him it’s not his fault, sympathy and guilt lacing your voice – he knows now.

He had started to grow tired of being there, needing a way out and soon. It was when he was distracted by his own mind that everything turned sideways. He was pickpocketing still as a young teen, barely fourteen, and hadn’t noticed the Mirlenas army emblem on the coat that was hanging over the chair.

“You stole from a Mirlenas soldier?” you ask incredulously, propping yourself up on one elbow on your side to look at him.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I didn’t realize it. The Commander’s emblem is different from the rest.”

“Erwin?” you squeak out, eyes wide.

He nods, continuing to tell you how Erwin caught young Levi snooping around his coat pocket. He had caught his wrist, preventing Levi from pulling out the dainty green emerald necklace Erwin had in his breast pocket. Erwin had been there for a meeting with another officer, immediately abandoning it in favor of taking Levi outside the establishment to scold the boy and figure out what the hell he was doing.

But Levi saw his way out. Erwin was an understanding man just like he is now and felt sympathy for the young boy that was only ten years younger than himself. Erwin was a young commander, perhaps naive at the time, and allowed Levi to straggle along with him instead of living day to day at the brothel. It gave Levi a purpose.

“I was good at it,” Levi sighs. Good at killing, his mind tells him, but he knows he doesn’t need to say it. “Being a soldier. I felt like I could finally fucking do something with my life.” You lie your head back down on his chest, drawing your soothing circles into his skin again.

Levi was quickly recognized as the best soldier and was quickly appointed to be a Chevalier for the royal family at just fifteen.

He huffs out a laugh. “I remember the ceremony,” he reminisces, a hand mindlessly trailing along your bare shoulder. “And I remember the brooding girl on the edge of the royal seats.” His voice is teasing, but you almost sound sad when you respond.

“Not brooding.” You pause and prop yourself up again. You look into Levi’s eyes, the colour of your irises sparkling as you look at him with such fondness despite the dim light. “You’ve been through so much. I’m so glad it led you to being a Chevalier at the castle.”

“You don’t seem repulsed,” Levi observes aloud. You still look at him with the new light he’s seen in your eyes recently. The same look you get when he’s close enough to feel your heartbeat, the same one you looked at him with when he couldn’t help but connect his lips with yours.

“I could never be repulsed by you, Levi,” you scoff, the light still not leaving your eyes. “You’ve managed to find your way into my heart and I cannot find it in myself to be angry with you for it. I welcome your affections with open arms now.” You kiss his chest and he swears you can feel the way his heart pounds against his ribcage. “I would be nothing without you.”

“You’ve bewitched me,” he breathes. He loves you. He knows the feeling in his chest has always been love, and he can finally admit it to himself now. It feels as though a weight has been lifted.

Levi pulls your body up to be eye level with him, using his other hand to tilt your face up the slight amount he needs to press his lips against yours. It’s soft, and sweet like honey, as your lips move languidly with his. He feels intoxicated by you, but allows you to relax despite his desire to get drunk on your taste.

He thinks about how nice it will be to bathe tomorrow morning, and enjoys your company by squeezing you closer to him as you drift asleep.

—

You couldn’t have been asleep for more than two hours when you’re woken up by your body crashing into the wall your bed is pressed against. It startles you, jolting you awake in an instant, and you realize Levi isn’t next to you anymore.

There’s shouting that’s muffled by the wood in between your quarters and the main deck, and the boat sounds like it’s being pelted over and over by bullets. Another harsh movement of the boat causes your body to jolt into the wall again, your head narrowly missing collision. You use one hand to rake your hair back out of your face, the other preoccupied by ensuring you don’t get knocked out by the boat’s erratic movements.

Standing is difficult, but you manage to balance yourself enough to straighten out your skirts and walk to the door. You swing it open, using a hand against the walls to keep yourself stable, and it’s then you realize just how hard it’s raining. It’s pelting the boat so harshly you’re not surprised you mistook the sound for shots being fired, and the thunder that booms through the sky and penetrates every being sounds like cannon fire.

You’re almost panicking at this point, wondering if everyone is okay on top. You push yourself through the hall, needing to make sure everyone is alright, or if you can at least assist in some way. Rain drips through the cracks in the planks of wood above you and climbing the stairs proves to be even more difficult than lifting yourself out of the bed, the boat being rocked harshly side to side and causing you to slip in the water.

When you reach the top of the stairs your breath is practically stolen from you from the pressure of the rain, harsh pellets of water almost bruising your skin. You grasp onto whatever you can, in this case a rope that’s secured to the side of the boat. You’re soaked almost instantly, eyes scanning to find anyone, but more so Levi so you can make sure he’s alright.

You spot each other at the same time, locking panicked eyes. He’s trying to help Erwin steer the wheel relative to the waves, or at least trying to keep them from completely breaking the rudder. Everyone else is trying to hold on to anything they can, all while keeping the ship afloat. You can barely hear the voices over the sound of crashing waves, the torrential downpour and the thunder that booms loudly, all of them being lost in the wind.

You keep hold of the rope, pulling yourself toward Levi as you sputter water out of your mouth and attempt to wipe the unruly hairs that plaster themselves to your face so you can see. You’re close enough to hear them now.

“Steer with the wind!” Erwin shouts at Levi. Both men are clenching their teeth, putting all their strength into turning the wheel. Waves crash over the boat, wiping some sailors and your own soldiers off their feet while you hang on to the edge.

“Aeron!” Levi shouts for you, his eyes finding your form again. He wants to run to you, to shove you under the deck again so you’re safe. “What are you doing?! Get back down!”

“I can help!” you insist, knowing there has to be something you can do. You can’t sit around and be useless.

“Don’t be a brat!” Levi shouts at you. He turns to Erwin, frustrated. “It’s useless!”

“We’ll get below deck!” Erwin resigns, reaching down to tie a rope to one of the handles on the wheel to keep it relatively stable while Levi does the same. “Grab Aeron!”

Levi grabs anything he can to keep him upright as he fights his way toward you, clothes plastered to his own skin and eyebrows furrowed in anger. You’re trying your best, clinging onto the rope that lines the edge to pull yourself forward, but your gaze snaps upwards when you hear a loud cracking sound above you. 

The center mast is breaking, the wood splintering and starting to tilt as it pulls the sails with it. The sailors are yelling at your soldiers to get down below to safety – everyone’s given up on the losing battle. 

Levi yells at you, but everything is drowned out when the mast comes crashing down, pulling rope and fabric with it. Everything is a blur as the boat tilts to one side, a massive wave crashing so harshly on top of the boat that all you hear is more wood splintering as you lose your grip on the rope and get tossed over the edge.

—

You’re comforted by the quiet that envelops you, serene darkness shadowing your eyelids and something that feels almost as soothing as a hug wrapping around your body. No more abrasive sounds of rain pelting the wood of the boat, no more shouting and arguments, no more politics.

No more.

Levi stands up unsteadily, swiping a hand over his face to rid the water from his features and pushes a hand through his hair. He looks around frantically, searching hopelessly for you to no avail. There’s only one option, to his absolute horror: the water. He doesn’t hesitate despite Erwin yelling at him. He won’t lose you too – he can’t.

His body breaks the surface of the water and he opens his eyes, spotting a massive sail that's roped around the mast that had broken before he sees you attached above it. You’re slowly being dragged down by the weight of it and he wills himself to not panic, to not waste time during the only opportunity he has to save you like he did with your brothers.

He pushes his limbs through the water as hard as possible, pushing himself forward fast enough to get to you before he runs out of air. You’re wrapped in rope when he gets close enough to see you in detail, your hair floating above you. He doesn’t take a single moment to see how peaceful you look – how tranquil – and instead immediately assesses that he can’t untangle you. He rips his dagger out of it’s sheath on his belt and frantically saws at the rope without cutting you.

Your body feels weightless in the void. The warm hug from before is gone, but you can see Auguste’s brown eyes staring back at you along with Theo’s green ones. They’re beautiful, and you’re so happy when you see them again, even if you don’t realize they’re vaguely floating in the dark waters in front of you.

But they look back at you with such sadness, and their mouths open as if to tell you something, but nothing audible comes out. You frown, upset until their images are gone and Levi is in front of you instead, his warm grey eyes looking at you with so much affection it hurts your heart. 

You love him. You had admitted it to yourself before.

But where is Levi? You’re starting to panic, no longer feeling the blissful serenity that was casted upon you. You need him.

His lungs burn by the time he cuts through the ropes, struggling to pull you completely free and kicking hard to propel the two of you upwards. He can feel the oxygen running out, his brain growing slightly foggy and his limbs growing slightly weaker, but he can’t give up – not when your life is at risk.

He gasps when he breaks the surface of the water, your body held in his arms, and he frantically reaches for a pallet of wood floating on the water. He grabs the edge and hauls your body on top, pulling your arms up so they’re draped over the wood and your face is above water.

“Come on you stubborn brat,” he cries. He can’t tell if the salt in his mouth is from the ocean or his tears. Levi tries so hard to gently slap you awake, pushing your hair out of your face so he can see your features clearly.

Levi?

Levi.

Levi.

“Levi,” you mumble, your voice barely audible.

He gasps in relief. “Oi, you stupid brat,” he laughs, hysterical and happy and relieved–

“Levi?”

“I’m here,” he says immediately, reaching a cold wet hand to caress your cheek. You’re okay. You’re alive.

You don’t say anything else, just a quiet mumble he can’t make out over the sound of rain pouring into the ocean around you. He has no idea what to do but simply float on the surface of the water and hope the boat will come into view once the storm clears up. 

But no matter what he has you, he’ll take care of you.

Levi wraps his arms around the wood, pushing his body up against your barely lucid one to keep you safe.

[cthulhusstepmom]

As promised here's a quick guide to the Fae lore I'm using in my Fae!Soap au, most of it is based on some folklore somewhere but there are parts that are exclusively my invention which I'll specify.

The fae are essentially immortal creatures that can split their time between our world and the Other World.

Things that repel fairies: wearing an article of clothing inside out, salt circles, some talismans, horseshoes(if the fae is of the Unseelie Court or has ill intent to your person), tying knots in your hair, etc

Some things depend on the type of Fae(regional differences, what court of Fae they are, where they stand in the hierarchy): most fae are repelled by bread but Scottish fairies love the stuff and accept it as preferred offerings, bells will chase off members of the Unseelie court as well as any Fae that harbors ill intentions towards you (Seelie fae will sometimes wear bells), compliments and gifts have a 50/50 chance of being an effective repellent.

They are beholden to the laws of hospitality, names, invitations etc

Never ever accept a gift from a fae as it is an invitation into your space and they will take full advantage of it.

Iron, specifically in a shape of significance, will protect you from the powers of the Fae and will repel their touch.

Unless I specifically strike it down it's pretty much all folklore accurate

From here down is all my own lore that I've made.

Now gifts in this universe, this little bit is entirely my own thing. (I didn't find much folklore about people wanting to bone the Good Neighbors beyond the occasional pretty boy stolen by a fairie queen). Gifts can be taken by the fae in question one of these ways: they'll find offense in it and leave you alone, they'll accept it as an offering and stick around(mostly in actual folklore this applies to Brownies in Scottish and Irish tradition), or (in specifically Soap's case because I don't think any other member of the Fae would ever allow a human to court them and homeboy is down bad) they'll take it as a courting gesture.

Fae courting is a rather understated affair, a gift is given and amiably received and then they're officially an item. It is highly unusual for most of the Fae to be monogamous and they'll usually drift from partner to partner during their long lives. It is somewhat more common for stricter monogamy to be observed among royalty and they'll more often choose one partner for life.

When Fae mate they essentially have a ton of sex and release magical energy into the world at large, this magic will latch onto a plant and develop the plant spirit into an autonomous fae spirit over time in a pseudo-gestational period. When the spirit of the new fae has fully matured, the magical energy that has been stored within the plant converts into their body and they are born as a functioning, if like basically a baby in most ways, adult. These new fae are sheltered in the Otherworld for the first several hundred years of their existence.

While they don't really die of old age or sickness there are a few things that can kill and injure them. Direct contact with Iron, severe physical wounds(getting shot in vital areas or having limbs removed), Bleach and some other chemicals, etc.

They are omnivores however they cannot process grains, preservatives, or cooked meat very well. They are immune to natural toxins though there are a few herbs that they find distasteful and avoid.

These are some of the major tenets and mainly just my specific lore, there's definitely more and if anyone has specific questions just shoot me an ask or a comment and I'll get you.

@cr4shposts

The reason the subtext is weird is because I completely made that part up lol

[myhauntedsalem]

Christmas Tree Ghost Ship

From 1898 to 1912 Herman Schuenemann was the Captain of the wooden schooner Rouse Simmons.

Captain Schuenemann was considered as much a part of Chicago’s Christmas as Santa Claus because his ship was better known as the “Christmas Tree Ship.”

Every November he would set sail on Lake Michigan from Thompson with a full cargo of spruces, pines and balsams piled high.

As Schuenemann reached his destination– he would steer the Rouse Simmons down the Chicago River and up to the Clark Street Bridge were thousands of waving Chicagoans would wait in anticipation.

Once the ship had docked, people swarmed onboard to choose a Christmas tree. They cost 50 cents to a dollar.

“Chicago’s Yuletide season began when the Christmas Tree Ship arrived with evergreens lashed to her masts and rigging… Her skipper would welcome throngs of Chicagoans aboard as soon as the ship’s moorings were secure. Whole families would hurry to the dock to get the pick of the crop. Many wandered on deck to watch the Captain’s daughter, Elsie, weave pine branches into wreaths, which were also for sale.”

–Reminiscences of Phil Sanders when he was a boy.

Herman Scheuenemann and his brother August before him– from 1876-to 1898– always made sure no one left without a tree. Both brothers gave away hundreds of trees to needy families, churches and orphanages.

August was carrying a load of trees to Chicago when his ship went down in 1898 in one of Lake Michigan’s fierce November gales. His brother, Herman made another trip just two weeks later determined Chicago would have its Christmas trees that year.

Unfortunately, fourteen years later Herman would suffer the same fate.

Lake sailors as well as ocean sailors are a superstitious lot–they have to be. Generations of “old salts” pass down what a sailor needs to be aware of–this includes everything that happens on and around their ships.

Captain Schuenemann was a competent and cautious sailor but for some reason he ignored a significant number of ominous warnings in November of 1912.

He was planning to sail from Thompson, Michigan on a Friday with a large cargo of trees despite severe storm warnings. His crew was nervous for there was an obvious storm brewing and the captain wanted to start their journey on a Friday.

Sailors considered it extremely unlucky to begin a voyage on a Friday. In the 1800s the British Navy was so annoyed by this superstition they purposefully launched a new ship called HMS Friday on a Friday.

Needless to say this ship and its crew were never seen again.

Captain Charles Nelson, Herman’s partner who had been a lake captain for 50 years tried to persuade Herman to delay but he could not convince him. Herman didn’t want to take the risk of being iced into the harbor and having his ship dashed against the docks by gale-force winds.

Schuenemann then ignored several more bad omens. Just before the schooner left the harbor several sailors watched in horror as droves of rats fled the ship. This is believed to be a sign a ship is in imminent danger.

Three crew members afraid now left the Rouse Simmons forfeiting their pay. This left just 13 crewmembers on the ship. Sailing with thirteen crewmembers was considered to be as dangerous as starting a voyage on a Friday.

Ships at the time nailed a horseshoe to the side of their vessels for good luck. Just as on land it is considered bad luck if these horseshoes are hung upside down–all the luck will run out.

As the Rouse Simmons set sail, the horseshoe that was hung on its side was loosened by strong winds. It was now hanging upside down on a single nail.

Captain Schuenemann left the harbor on November 22nd and sailed right into the now infamous Big Storm of 1912.

The temperature immediately dropped from 40 degrees to below freezing. Rain turned to snow and ice, which coated the ships’ rigging, sails and spars–and the Christmas trees that were on deck.

The next day witnesses in Kewaunee, Wisconsin saw the Rouse Simmons pass by flying her distress signals. They wondered why the ship with its tattered sails did not just stop but instead sailed into a blinding snowstorm.

“The Two Rivers Life Saving Crew was informed of the ships’ distress signals and set out in search of the schooner but it was never found.”

–From an article in the Chronicle of Two Rivers

This mystery was not solved until 1971 when the wreck of the Rouse Simmons was found at the bottom of Lake Michigan.

Its wheel was missing so the experts concluded that the ships enormous cargo of Christmas trees had basically turned into ice blocks on deck, which then slid into the wheel leaving the captain unable to control the ships’ course.

One popular sailor superstition is that when a ship’s bells are heard ringing of their own accord, as in a storm, this foretells death.

In the days after the Rouse Simmons was lost several people near Two Rivers, Wisconsin reported hearing phantom bells and phantom cries in the wind.

A ghost ship has also been seen through the years. It is often spotted on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day gliding in the waters near Two Rivers. People have watched as it just vanishes into a mist.

[sushisocks]

since sean was the first to die(rip king😔), we never rly saw him deal w the death of the other members. how do you think a situation like that would go and who's death would impact him the most?

Oooh boy, what a great question!! 

So, I do think Sean would feel obligated to keep things light, but we also KNOW that he’s the one that likes to remember people and talk about the ones he cared for. I can 100% see him being the main push for letting people feel grief in a safe manner; Sean would be the one sitting at the campfire telling funny and heartwarming stories about the dead person, and encouraging other people to open up and share stories too.

At the same time, I 100% see him being weighed down HEAVY by certain deaths in private. If he survived past Arthur’s death, for example, that would absolutely rock his world. Same with Lenny’s death; if not from a shipping perspective, simply because Lenny is the youngest gun, is smart, and a friend of Sean’s. I think that would put some things in perspective for him real quick, and internally he’d be having a REAL bad time. Thing is, Sean isn’t really one to show a whole lot of negativity, so I don’t think this would be apparent to anyone who didn’t know how to look for it.

Additionally, I do genuinely think both Kieran and Molly’s deaths would hit him HARD. I’ve talked with several friends now about how Sean, Molly, and Kieran do all three have a connection with Ireland, and probably did feel a faint sense of kinship over it. Molly feeling unsafe and more alone after both Sean and Kieran dying right after one another makes a world of sense, even if she wasn’t really close to either of them, simply because of what they represent to one another. I can imagine her death hitting Sean in a similar way, and Kieran’s death would also absolutely sour certain things for him – ESPECIALLY since if you get all their possible interactions over the course of Horseshoe & Clemens Point, the two DO actually develop a repertoire between one another. 

Hosea’s death is a rough one, I think. Sean and Hosea’s relationship is of great interest to me, because there’s a LOT of conflict there, and Hosea is definitely among the– Less kind gang members, to Sean. Still though, Sean does clearly have some regard for Hosea as a wiser older man, as shown by him actually asking Hosea about their situation, clearly seeking advice and/or comfort regarding it. In large part I think Hosea’s death would be somewhat overshadowed by Lenny’s, to Sean at least, but there would very much be a sense of… Indignation, maybe? The context of this being one of the founding members of the gang, Dutch’s partner in crime, this voice of authority, now dead for what? 

Sean, at his core, is a people person. There’s no way any of the deaths wouldn’t leave an impression.

One thing I can then see happening is… A sort of disillusionment for Sean, when it comes to Dutch & the gang? Imagine all these rapid rate deaths of people you care about, and when you look to your leader he doesn’t really… Do or say anything? About it?? 

I think, similarly to my reasoning as to why I think Sean would’ve sided with Arthur in the end had he gotten that far, Sean isn’t as fully sold on every aspect of Dutch’s talk nor as fully invested as Arthur and John are (with their specific daddy issues lmfao). That WOULD allow Sean to grow more critical, and as more people die, I can imagine us actually getting to see Sean possibly become more– Well, for a lack of a better word, more Arthur-like. “He’s just a younger version of you” and all that, here’s Sean at around the same age Arthur was when he lost Eliza and Isaac, watching people that matter to him die through a failure of leadership, if you will. It makes sense to me that Sean would start harboring a similar sense of anger, that would probably start grounding him a bit more. 

This is all obviously assuming that Sean survives and everything happens the exact same way, which, as I’ve talked about before, I think is extremely unlikely! But it’s an interesting thought experiment for sure!!

Thank you so much for this question!! I enjoyed writing this a lot, and Sean’s potential journey in the story when surviving his scripted death has always been a point of deep fascination to me, so I LOVE getting to think abt stuff like this!!!

[k20spock]

picking up all of my friends. come on we are going on a field trip to the ocean. i am going to show you all the cool stuff. we can pick up horseshoe crabs and i'll point out where their ten eyes are and whether they're males or females. if we squint maybe we can see harbor seals on the rocks, winter visitors. we can walk in the muck and laugh when we sink a little bit. we can comb over the rocks and look for cool bones and shells and pieces of driftwood. every time we see a shell with a perfect little hole in it i'll tell you that was probably a channeled whelk. we can poke a dead jellyfish. with a stick, or just with your hands if you don't care about being itchy the next day.

there will be seagulls dropping food onto the rocks, and fighting over who gets to pick it up. maybe there will be an osprey if we're lucky, ignoring the squabbles over snail meat and scooping entire fish out of the water. did you know that if you lean in close you can hear barnacles? they make little squeaking and popping noises as they move around inside their shell. it's a very tiny noise, and it's scary the first time, but once you get used to it, it's nice to hear the rocks sing. there will be tiny hermit crabs and giant spider crabs, and little fish darting around the tide pools. i'll point to the ocean and tell you about all the things I know are there that we can't see. the whole time i am saying i love you.

[specialagentartemis]

Top 5 sea creatures?

sea creatures!

Horseshoe crabs. love those sweet and funky guys

Sea turtles. They're turtles!! in the sea! and they're so big!!!! and the babies are so tiny!!!

Giant Pacific octopus. I love octopi, they're both intellectually fascinating (they're smart problem-solvers!!) and just. fun to look at. and the giant Pacific ones truly are BIG

Sperm whales. I used to docent for a museum underneath a giant hanging sperm whale skeleton and they're incredible. The history of 19th Century New England Whaling is fascinating to me in a grim way, and the whales themselves are so weird and so cool. And one of them rammed a whaling ship and sank it and I respect him. Also they dive into the deep ocean to eat giant squid.

Harbor seals. I just think they are cute and fun to watch.

[strangerays]

novel introduction: Nothing in Particular and Everything

[image ID: A girl in a yellow rain jacket stands over a cliff face with her arms outstretched. Blue waves twist below. Greenery hangs over the cliffs.]

[text ID under the cut!]

started: February 2021

stage: 3rd draft

pov: first person, past tense

tags: #nip: inspo, #nothing in particular and everything

Ask to be +/- from the tag list if that is something you would like!

@words-after-midnight​ @thesorcerersapprentice

[text ID: There is a cliff at the edge of Point Blink where kids twist into the air and throw dust to the vortexing waves; they shoot past eroded caves filled with old bird nests that fly up like slots in a mausoleum. A lighthouse with a jammed bell leers over the expanse of heat lightning reflections. Metal gargles against stone in storm weather, warning us all of childish dares. I was a lighthouse: lived in by sailors, travelers, and strangers; pale stone tall and strong against a maelstrom of salt and rock. Moon shells speckled my base, crushed or buried. Clouds passed over the moon, and I opened my eye to cast sickly yellow light over the waves as they smoothed the footprints of my friends, and of Dad, and of me. Point Blink has stood for decades, but I will stand alone for many more, flickering against all the stars, waiting for those I love to return to harbor.]

Synopsis -

Ever since her best friend left Point Blink, Ray hasn’t felt the same. Now that Lonan is away at college, her friend group feels more distant than ever. Ray struggles to hold them together.

Photography is Ray’s passion. Memories with her friends have helped her create cover her bedroom walls. It’s her senior year, as well as the last school photography club trip she’ll ever be a part of. When Ray is paired with new girl Jude - who is determined to find her own way in Point Blink - they stumble on an abandoned fire tower in the forest. As the girls explore its mysterious contents, an act of arson threatens their lives.

Over the course of the winter, the girls spend afternoons in a dark room and build a profile for the arsonist – as well as a strong friendship. But as they delve deeper into Point Blink’s history, secrets surface within Ray too. Her mental health starts to decline, as well as her obsession with resolving her friendships. If she is ever to resolve the world she loves, she must care for herself.

Excerpts - 

[text ID: I was a firm believer that the best art is created when the artist is lonely, angry, or depressed. The summer my best friend caught his train out of Point Blink, I was surprised to find that I became none of these things. We buried a time capsule beneath Sugarfell’s soaring pines and painted his bedroom walls a calm cerulean. We snuck out of house at nighttime to swim and went on a road trip to see our favorite band in concert. All my most colorful memories in Point Blink were unplanned in the beginning.]

[text ID: As it is, Lonan has always been a year older and a grade ahead of me. As I entered my senior year of high school, he entered his freshman year of college. It felt like we were miles apart. It felt like he was going to disappear.      Together, we stared across the pink beach. A piper toothed the drowned shore for beetles. Primordial fire reeds combed rays of golden sun to fine sparkles. Lonan never left the shore, just blinked slowly while pockets of young horseshoe crabs chased each other into a swirl of murky blue. I could never resist the water. Often I spread my arms wide, walked barefoot along the rock wall trailing away from the beach into the water. Lonan only watched me from the sand – smaller and smaller and smaller. Now I tried to focus on the melodic thrill of the waves, but a cold headache was starting in my forehead. Sometimes I think that if I didn’t put so much effort into my friendships, I might not be so angry all the time.]

[text ID:  I knew Lonan would never give up, because he was a rebel and I was quiet. He was my focal point. Point Blink a gauge built on magenta sea glass – and I had a third eye, primal in the growing.]

[text ID: The truth was this: time was fiction to me. When I lifted my camera up, saw the world as more beautiful than it was, made it mine for just a moment in time – the trees richer, the waves more childlike in their frothing – none of it stayed the same. When birds called my name over the burst of a wave onto the cliffs. When storms send shadows to dance across the bluff faces. My most purple imagination couldn’t convince me everything was going to be okay – my best friend was gone. All of these falling pieces of my world were stark reminders that Lonan Herrings was gone for what seemed like an indefinite time. Because once people find what they want, they never stop chasing it.I tried to hold a moment forever, but time isn’t fiction – it’s an hourglass. Lately, my life had felt more like a rusted compass with a broken face.]

[text ID:  Where the familiar world of oaks met the dusty clearing, a graffitied entrance sign barely hid a girl. Had it not been for the bright blue hat she wore with the number twelve stitched on front, I might have missed her altogether. She closed her eyes and tilted her face up to the sun. Her lips curved to a satisfied grin as the sun highlighted her round cheeks a smooth sienna. She seemed truly content and stayed that way – forgot about the rest of us, even me.]

[text ID: I suppose – in many ways – I didn’t talk to anyone about Lonan. Not about school, either. About my friends, about the headaches I kept getting every night, about how I’d lost my appetite completely last week.            

“My best friend and I used to come down here a lot.”

Jude’s smile was small. “When was the last time.”

“He’s away for college right now.”            

Her smile fell. “Oh. That’s why you didn’t want me to tag along with you.”            

I swallowed.           

“That’s why you wanted to come down here on your own, isn’t it?”           

Her arm brushed mine and it was so warm. It reminded me of the safe feeling I got whenever Florian hugged me.            

A breeze trickled through the trees we’d come from and cascaded faint sparkles across the water, feathered the waves away from the shore. Briefly, the gray clouds pulled apart the fog, and pale sunlight touched Jude’s cheeks, drawing a smile from her lips. It seemed that, even in the darkest moments, she managed to find something to love. It made me jealous.            

Her eyes were closed. “At least you can still watch the sun rise.”]

[text ID: Point Blink was like a sponge – it inhaled and exhaled water. Soaked up all rain and laughter, cursing and screaming. Rotting at the core. Sometimes I imagined Sugarfell might drink up all of that water, fold over itself like a map, and all those memories would surface from the ground with new bodies. Hands, the sort that I dreamed of appearing from underneath my bed. The hands of something that is supposed to be forgotten. Point Blink rarely exhaled. It just held its breath. Jude wasn’t afraid of Point Blink. She wasn’t afraid to live in a place where the people slogged from shore to shore, sunburned and bored. She wasn’t afraid to be alone in a place where the other kids grew up without her. She wasn’t afraid to sing as she walked up the beach and into the trees.

[text ID: “Are you crying?” he asked. 

I hugged myself tight. “No.”            

Lonan wasn’t totally convinced, because he tilted his head and stared at me with his green-blue eyes for a long time. “You were about to.”

Lonan leaned into my shoulder. For a moment, I thought he might have been crying since he was the sort of person who cried whenever other people cried. Sometimes I think he is the rarest type of person in the world. I wished I could feel everything the way he did.

But he wasn’t crying – he was just resting against me. He was never going to be taller than me, so his head fit onto my shoulder perfectly. He could stay there for all of eternity if he wanted to.

And suddenly, all that darkness and thick air didn’t hang so heavy over me.]

[text ID: Lonan came to me all at once: we were dissolved into black. I tried running to the opposite side of the fire tower, but then there was no ground beneath me. We must not have been that far up, because it didn’t take long for the rest of the tower to collapse beneath us. There was something soft underneath me – my bag or Jude’s arm. I could not see the sky – then light exploded from the veil we were trapped in. Jude’s hand found mine. She was shouting. I couldn’t tell what she was saying. I dragged myself through the grass, now pasty with smoke, infiltrating my throat, my eyes, my head – everything. It softened the world, made it easier to forget, but no easier to breathe. Jude screamed – a sound I never should have heard – and it brought hot tears to my eyes. Distantly, someone else screamed. It might have been me, but I wasn’t sure. Sirens wailed somewhere. We never heard many of them in Point Blink. I smelled of salt and smoke. What a fool I’d been to believe it possible I could carry on without my best friends, and what a fool Jude had been to think she could replace them.]

If you’re all the way down here, thanks for reading! I sometimes post snippets from the book as I write under the tag #nothing in particular and everything

:)

[grey-sorcery]

Suggested Reading:

What is Witchcraft? Path of Least Resistance Conceptualization Vs. Visualization  Researching Witchcraft Online Witchcraft Research Tips

Introduction 

For many people, witchcraft and superstition are synonymous. Witchcraft being the act of causing some intentional effect from a distance, or without direct interaction. While superstition is a widely held belief in some supernatural causation leading to certain consequences. While in some cases the terms do overlap, they are independently very distinct. There is also a third subject that can be looped into the venn diagram: Psychology. While I won't be covering this topic in this article, it is also important to consider. Sometimes what is perceived as witchcraft or superstition is just a placebo or some cognitive bias. 

Witchcraft

The act of causing a desired effect indirectly. The methods used to accomplish such a feat varies widely between cultures and traditions, ranging from spirit channeling to sigils. What constitutes a spell, though? A spell is a deliberate ritual, no matter how small, in which the goal is honed in on with intention and the desire is pressed through by some fuel, typically passion or emotion. This process requires four parts: Intent, Focus, Passion, & Action. Intent is not necessarily the same as desire, but rather the underlying conceptualization of a visualization that is held by the practitioner. Focus is the headspace that is required in order to sharpen the spell and map its trajectory, in a way. Passion, or emotion, is what fuels spellwork. Not in the sense of intensity, but its volume- as in spatial. The amount of space any given feeling takes up in the body and subtle body during casting. Lastly, is action. This can be as simple as the act of doing the spell itself,  or the subsequent actions that enforce the spellwork. Regardless of the physicality of the action, it must still be performed. 

Superstition

The belief in some other force that causes certain things to occur. Sometimes a superstition is rooted in things that would make sense in witchcraft, like hanging a horseshoe above a door to keep harbor from spirits and ill-will. However, a lot of superstitions seem almost arbitrary. Most superstitions aren’t held by practitioners of any mystical or magical practices, but rather the layman. Many superstitions are deeply rooted in cultures and their folklore, myths, and legends. Stories become manifest through superstitions, at the very least in the minds of the listeners. Many superstitions revolve around the concept of luck as well as divination. If a broom falls in the house on its own, company will come by unannounced. Having a white lighter is bad luck. There are numerous examples. It can be difficult to differentiate between what is purely superstition, and what has roots or uses in witchcraft. Superstitions can definitely be used as correspondences by those who hold a steadfast belief in those superstitions. 

Here's an interesting list of superstitions I saw here on Tumblr by @themirroredmoon

Spirits, Fair folk, & Cryptids

Spirit, fae, & faerie all originate from approximately the same time period; which is between the 12th and 13th century. Though they all have differing origins, and their usages have varied over the centuries, all of these terms have entered into the same semantic circle within witchcraft. Spirit originated as meaning “soul”, however, this eventually split to mean both “soul” and essentially “entity”. Fae, stemming from the Scots word for “from” and the French word for “fates”, converged at an unknown time, but likely between the 15th & 17th century. It’s important to note that the French “Fae” is used here as meaning something along the lines of “guiding spirits”. The term Cryptid comes from Latin and Greek for “Hidden” or “concealed”, noted as early as the 17th century. A spirit, as in an otherworldly energy, entity, or feeling that can originate from a person, place, or thing; or, from some other unknowable plane. Spirits conceptually exist all over the globe in numerous cultures, faiths, and mystical/magical practices. It has been used in varying magnitudes, from a feeling that a location has over or around it, to the movement of god(s) through the physical plane. It is generally a catch-all term that applied to the (mostly) unseen phenomenon that we witches deal with fairly regularly. A cryptid is an enigmatic physical being that is presumed to exist as the result of folklore. These entities are tangible beings that are biological in nature (most of the time). Subtaintal proof of the existence of cryptids has never been found. All evidence provided towards their existence have been unveiled as works of fiction. However, despite this their existences have been kept alive through their folklore as well as through modern internet culture. While work with cryptids isn’t the most common within witchcraft circles, it still happens in some regional areas.  

A fae, faerie, or fair folk ranges from being a spiritual entity to something more along the lines of a cryptid. The fae are essentially nature spirits or cryptids. They originate from a plethora of regional folklores, but are primarily noted to be from within the Saxon and Celtic cultures. On average, the fae are seen more so as something to avoid or to appease. Their wrath can range from practical jokes to kidnapping and murder. The fae were used as tales to scare the children in order to keep them in line. They remained within their isolated folklore until the Victorian era, coming into popularity with the writer Jane Eyre. Contemporarily, the overall conceptualization of the fair folk has been influenced heavily by many forms of media. From this evolution have come concepts such as the “fae council”, which originates from works such as “War of The Fae” (Novel) and “Forgotten Realms” (TTRPG). This evolution occurred gradually over time starting in the 1960s. When it comes to working with Fae, some witches take their presence very seriously, while others tend to use them more for their own personal narratives. 

[kingxfmischief]

[Found a horseshoe crab molt on the beach, a huge one. Then about to do a harbor tour and found several anoles. First time in my life I've ever caught one! Little guy is slippery tho lol.]

[ammg-old2]

A gentoo penguin leaps from the water onto a rocky shoreline near Port Lockroy on Wiencke Island (Antarctica).

One adult king penguin in a large crowd of king penguin chicks, in a breeding-colony group on South Georgia island.

King penguins gather along St Andrews Bay on the island of South Georgia.

Chinstrap penguins swim through the surf toward Bailey Head on Deception Island.

Close-up view of a rock-hopper penguin.

A group of crested penguins dart past one another underwater.

A colony of emperor penguins with their chicks on Snow Hill Island (Antarctica).

An emperor penguin cares for its chick on Snow Hill Island.

An Adélie penguin looks out from behind a pile of snow in the Yalour Islands.

A gentoo penguin pokes its head under the water's surface near Horseshoe Island.

An elephant seal, surrounded by king penguins, on Île de la Possession.

A penguin swims along Arpoador beach in Rio de Janeiro (July 2012), during the annual migration from Argentila, Chile, and the Falkland Islands.

Penguins gather on the Punta Tombo peninsula in Patagonia (Argentina, 2017).

A gentoo penguin walks through an Antarctic storm.

Penguin footprints on Danco Island (Antarctica).

Adélie penguins jump off an iceberg into the water off Paulet Island (Antarctica).

A leopard seal hunts for gentoo penguins on Cuverville Island.

Three king penguins.

A massive colony of king penguins on South Georgia island.

A gentoo penguin nips at a camera along Orne Harbor, on the western side of the Antarctic Peninsula (March 2016).

[not-quitenormal]

When you have the opportunity to be seaside, what are your top 5 favorite activities to engage in?

None of these are in order, but they are things that must happen if I go near the water.

1. Collecting shells. I have a small bowl filled with shells I have collected from Portland, Maine; Tenant's Harbor, Maine; and Provincetown, Massachusetts. Not sure what I'm gonna do with them - I just think they're pretty.

(Best thing I've found is the whole top half of a horseshoe crab shell.)

2. Toes. In. Sand. Yes, sand will inevitably get into my shoes. No, I do not care. Sand is part of the experience.

3. If it's a quick trip, I have to at least dip my feet in. At minimum. But if it's longer and I'm able? I need to swim. I 100% am that person who will go into the water no matter what they're wearing or what the weather conditions are.

4. Watch birds. My family made fun of me for always taking more photos of birds than anything, but it's fun to just see what they're up to and/or how they fish.

5. Speaking of photos.