#thank you selkie

[miraculosus]

Cowboy noir wanted for kitty crimes!!!!! I was so obsessed with this sketch @heartfulselkie drew (below) I couldn’t resist asking to ink and color it 🤠🤠🤠 I love him so much

[dragonpyre]

Commission for @sreppub who asked for selkie Jason and Duke based of this pic

Commission info ko-fi

[starswimmingart]

It’s Autumn!! Cozy sweaters and pretty weather galore! Bonus: 

[bebemoon]

Could I ask what are your favorite Selkie looks from the new collection? xx

sure ! ^^

[acatpiestuff]

Commission for @divatheeva !

[laurasimonsdaughter]

I am so so happy and honoured to finally hold an actual physical copy of A Sweet Sting of Salt by @rosesutherlandwrites in my very own selkie loving hands~

And it's signed 💙💙💙

[saveugoodmadam]

lost & found

🦭this is my personal take on @chimeofthecomet's selkie au, all credit for creating the au goes to pip! :3 word count is around 2.5k 🦭

"Got your pelt?” Davey asks as he and his brother walk back to their house, their path illuminated by softly glowing streetlamps. Les nods, patting his selling bag, then opens it to show a pelt of soft, thick fur with a few patches beginning to develop on the jet-black fluff. His name is inked on the skin, written in their mother's loopy handwriting.

“D’you have yours?” he asks Davey.

Davey opens his bag, expecting to see his familiar spotted pelt inside, but is met with just empty air instead. He stops dead in his tracks. His breathing is rapid, his hands clutching tight to the strap across his chest.

“Is it back at the lodge house?” Les asks, hoping that the effort of finding an answer will stop his big brother from panicking.His plan works. Davey’s hands slowly unclasp and his breathing regulates as he combs through the evening they've just spent with the newsies in his head. He remembers lounging on an old, saggy, threadbare sofa and listening to Jack talking about his newest backdrop. He remembers a short nap he'd taken, lulled to sleep by Jack's smooth voice before he'd been woken up by Race and Albert’s loud bickering. Only now does he remember how his bag was lighter when he'd stood up to confront them.

“Y- yeah, I think so. Somewhere on the couch. I- I-" No. He can't go back and get it now. They're too far away from the lodging house at this point, and they need to be back home for dinner.

“I’ll get it back next morning. I'll be fine without it for a night.”

But he knows he's lying. All through dinner there's a pull in his chest that he knows will only quiet itself once his pelt is back beside him.

“Are you alright, my little leanabh ròin?” Esther asks as he picks silently at his meal. “Is the food too much for your tongue today?”

He shakes his head. “No, Mama. It's very nice, thank you.”

“Whatever the matter is, bubbeleh,” Mayer reassures him with the sort of smile that Davey thinks only fathers can have, “you can always talk to us. We're your parents, are we not? We want to make sure you’re alright.”

“Yes, Papa. It's nothing really. I'll always seek your help if I need it, I promise,” he tells his father, making extra sure to eat everything on his plate.

His sleep is fraught that night and whenever he does drift off for a small burst of unconsciousness, the sea fills his dreams. Guilt seeps into his body, saturating him with the shame of losing the one thing a selkie must never lose. In an act of desperation he knocks on Sarah's door, weeping in relief when she lets him in and wraps the both of them in her own pelt. Perhaps because they are twins and therefore their sealskins are almost identical, the presence of her pelt against his body means the pulling feeling is calmed enough to let him finally drift off.

As early as he can the next morning, he brings Les down to the lodging house to retrieve his pelt and soothe the tugging in his bosom. It's Crutchie who opens the door when he knocks, the older boy's face souring at the sight of him.

“Hey, Les!” Crutchie says, then adds curtly, “Mornin’, David. Jack ain't here.”

“Oh, I'm not here for Jack today. I, uh, I left something here last night,” Davey explains. From the way Crutchie's acting, he's hit by the not unfamiliar feeling that he's really badly messed up but doesn't know how.

“You sure did. And I'll tell you what, we all know what you left.”

Davey freezes up, his hand clasping Les’ tighter. “You do?”

Crutchie nods, his mouth a thin line. “Mm-hmm. There's a seal Jack talked with, down by the harbour. He loved that animal. Wouldn't stop talkin’ about it every time he went down ‘n’ talked at it ‘n’ slipped it bits’a fish. An’ now suddenly you leave its skin behind in the lodge house.”

Suddenly, Davey feels sick to his stomach. Of course the newsies don't believe in selkies. They believe in poachers.

“Listen, I can explain. I promise, this is all a big misunderstanding!” he stammers. Crutchie's harsh eyes soften just a little.

“I sure hope it is, and I sure hope you can explain. But not to me. I don't need explanations. Jack's down at the harbour, with whatever the hell remains of that poor animal.” Crutchie looks like he's done speaking, then adds- “You broke my little brother's goddamn heart, David, and you're damn well gonna fix it up again.”

Davey nods meekly. “I will. I swear.”

He leaves Les at the lodge house and runs.

There are three things that Davey can trust his instincts to lead him to- the ocean, his pelt and Jack. There's a perfect harmony thrumming in his bones as his legs lead him to all three at once. He reaches the harbour as soon as he can- feet hammering against the ground, heart hammering against his chest. Jack is easily spotted from here; his crimson shirt sticks out like a sore thumb against the grey-blue of the water. Davey's heart sinks at the sight of the hunched-over figure at the end of the pier.

“Jack?” he questions softly, approaching the boy.

Jack turns around, his eyes wet and narrowed in outrage. Tear-tracks bleed through the dirt on his cheeks.

“How could you?” he splutters, the bite in his voice softened by grief.

The pelt is clutched to his chest, the fur wet in patches from being wept into. Davey's instincts are hot behind his ribs, urging him to snatch back his pelt and reclaim his second nature. Despite this, some other feeling that always swells in his chest when he's near Jack is weirdly comfortable seeing Jack's fingers against the sealskin, hugging such a crucial part of Davey so close to him.

“Jack, it's not- not what it looks like. I promise, I really-”

Davey starts to speak after a few moments of silence, but Jack quickly interrupts.

“Yknow, I'd never’a pinned you down as one to go around slaughterin’ innocent creatures. That seal hadn't done nothin’ wrong to you! He was… he was my friend…”

“I know. He's not gone. He's still your friend,” Davey tries to explain. Sitting cross-legged next to Jack, he takes back his pelt, feeling a blanket of relief settle over him as he cards his fingers through the fur, gently untangling small knots.

“How?” Jack asks. His tone begs for an answer more than it demands one. “You think I don't recognise the little fella’s skin when I see it? And out of all’a the seals in New York you could’a done this to, it had to be the one who meant the most to me? I'm so used to losing people, Davey. I'm so tired of it. You know that. I thought I could at least trust you not to be the reason I lost anyone else!”

It breaks Davey's heart to see Jack look so horribly betrayed. He’s never realised how much Jack trusts him until now, not really.

“Jack… the answer is- it's easiest to show you. You won't believe me if I use words.”

“Sure,” Jack hisses, his voice hollow and defensive.

In a single practised move, Davey wraps the pelt tight around himself and draws his head under the hood with his eyes shut tight. When he looks back up at Jack it is with the same big wet eyes he first looked at him with when he poked his head above the water on that rainy afternoon in late May.

“Dave?” Jack breathes, using the nickname he reserves only for special situations like this. It's a world away from the Jack who was there just a moment ago. His face is a mask of utter shock. “You was... that seal was... it's you."

Davey barks an affirmative. Jack's face buries in his hands, his shoulders heaving.

“Are you okay?” Davey asks, unwrapping himself from his pinniped form and rushing to console Jack. His answer is a nod as Jack lifts his head, his mouth open in silent laughter, tears of mirth forming in the corners of his eyes. Awkward as ever, Davey just sits there, unsure what to say but happy at least that Jack isn’t upset or angry.

“Oh my god!” Jack says once he's finally calmed down enough to speak. “That little honky bark…sorry, I shouldn't'a laughed, but it was so hilariously adorable.”

“It was?” Davey asks, confused.

“Yeah!” Jack chuckles, then groans slightly in embarrassment. “Oh god, I said so many things I regret now!”

“It's okay. You didn't know the seal was also me.”

“Fair, but, I mean- I did say some kinda embarrassing things in hindsight.”

Davey flashes a wicked grin. “What, like ‘hey there, water doggy’?’ ‘Want some fish, cutie patootie’? ‘Awww, stop lookin’ at me with those big ol’ wet eyes’?”

“Alright, okay!” Jack laughs. “Point well made, Mr Jacobs.”

Then he turns his puppy eyes on Davey, the ones that Davey hasn't learnt to say no to yet.

“Can we pleeeeaaaseee forget that ever happened now, Davey?”

“Fine,” Davey concedes. He doesn't add “you can still call me cutie patootie though”, but he wants to.

Instead, he adds, “If you're wondering, and I don't blame you, I'm a selkie. So long as I have my pelt with me, I can be a human or a seal depending on which is most appropriate at the time. Without my pelt, I'm just plain old David.”

“Hey, you ain't plain!” Jack interjects kindly.

He pauses.

“Sorry I- well, actually that me ‘n’ all the fellas jumped to conclusions.”

“Its fine.” Davey murmurs as he nuzzles the pelt against his cheek, inhaling the familiar scent. His chest-feeling thrills a little at the fact he can smell Jack on it too. “Not the most logical of conclusions, is it?”

Jack shakes his head and offers out his hand as a silent peace offering, which Davey gladly accepts. Their hands pull away slowly when it is over, fingers lingering for want of touch.

“What's the writin’ on it mean, then? The, uh, the word on the skin bit.”

Davey's gaze breaks away from the point in the middle of the sea he's been staring out at.

“Oh, you mean this?” he asks, pointing to his mother's writing.

“Yeah. That word. Dàibhidh,” Jack reads, lips forming around the word in the clunky way all non-speakers’ lips do. His brow furrows in concentration. He looks so desperate to get it right. Davey's lips quirk up in a small smile, finding the effort utterly charming.

“Dàibhidh,” Davey repeats, tracing a thumb over the letters. His tongue wraps around the word from his birthplace’s tongue like he's greeting a long-lost lover. “My name, in the language of where Mama and I were both born. So mine and Sarah's pelts don't get mixed up.”

“So it's a family kinda thing? Damn, I wonder if my folks used t’be selkies?” Jack muses, idly drawing swirls and stars on his arm with a piece of charcoal he's taken from his pocket.

“There's only one way to know that. Have you ever felt a longing for the sea so bad you couldn't do anything but follow your feet down to the beach and dive in?”

Davey trails his fingers wistfully in the water as he waits for Jack's reply. A warm laugh bubbles up from his best friend’s throat.

“Not for the sea, no. But I can tell what you mean.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Santa Fe.”

“Nope.”

He tilts his head in confusion as he turns to look at Jack, who has an old paper set on the planks of the pier and is drawing on it. Curious, he scoots over to see what the picture is of. It's him, just a moment ago, laid flat on his stomach with his arm dangling downwards from the pier. It's in that moment he realises that Jack hasn't drawn Santa Fe in a long while, and that most of the drawings that decorate the Penthouse are of him. In that moment he also realises how tenderly Jack's looking at him, how soft his smile is (oh, those dimples will be the death of him) and how, if he ever did have to give up the sea forever, Jack is the one person he'd do it for. Maybe that's what love is, then. Maybe that's the name of the feeling in his chest. Maybe it's the name of the feeling in Jack's chest too. Now that it's been named, the feeling swells and swells until it bursts and Davey knows.

For just a second, Davey hesitates before he passes the sealskin to Jack. Something suddenly has made him braver than he's ever been in his life; braver than on the swim to America with his pod, braver than the day his dad got into the accident, braver than he was during the strike.

“You know,” he tells him, trying to keep his voice steady, “when a human gives a selkie back their skin, it counts as marriage in our culture. Well, not marriage exactly, more like eternal commitment, but it's got the same level of cultural importance. It means we trust that person enough to let them have control over our future, and they respect us enough to let us choose. The stories always say you know who you'll give your pelt to when you find them. And I know, I know, Jack, that it's you.”

Jack's mouth opens in an ‘O’ of surprise, his eyebrows raising as he realises what Davey just said, what Davey just did. His fingers trace lines between the spots on the pelt, feeling its warmth, Davey's warmth.

“An’... an’ you want me to…”

“If you don't want to, that's okay,” Davey clarifies, a horrible nausea settling in his stomach at the thought he's misread this situation. Jack probably doesn't want this. Maybe he’ll hate Davey now and never talk to him again. Or he'll take off running with the pelt and Davey won't ever see him again and won't ever be able to come back to the sea again, no matter how much the yearning in his chest hurts him.

“You can just put it down and I'll pick it up and we can forget this ever happened. That's probably what you want, isn’t it? I'm sorry, I'm a fool, I should have asked, shouldn't have assumed. I’ll just- just go, should be getting back to selling-”

He stops as he feels soft fur against his hands. Jack's callused fingers brush against his soft ones. A gasp escapes his throat as his sea-glass green eyes meet Jack's driftwood-brown ones. Then he's enveloped in a hug, strong arms closing around him and giving the exact amount of pressure that he likes. This feels right, feels comfortable. His instincts are gladly adapting to the change, labelling Jack as husband, dearest, darling, mine.

“How the hell are we gonna explain this?” Jack asks with a fond smile.

“I don't know. But I don't doubt we'll find a way. You're an extraordinary man, Jack Kelly, you know that?”

“No less than you are, Davey Jacobs.”

[tennessoui]

You're a wonderful writer, you deserve all the treats! 🎃🍭🍬🍫🍦🧁✨

awww thank you so much 🥹🥹

it is no longer halloween but i have a couple of trick or treat asks that i didn't get to cause my time management leaves a lot to be desired & little time to desire it lol so to spare people's dashes but to not leave anyone in the wind, i'm gonna respond to all of them in one long post :D (this one)

see beneath the cut!! you guys did great there were like almost no repeats even though there statistically probably should have been???

🍬🍬 hello thank you 🧡

i already answered a kuwsk one, so for roadtrip au....

here is a little drabble from an upcoming scene in the roadtrip au (squick tag:a/b/o):

Obi-Wan narrows his eyes in his direction. "What's wrong, Anakin?" "Nothing," he says. Shit, that came out too fast. Obi-Wan's eyes narrow further, like he agrees. "You've been acting strangely all day," the love of his life says. "You didn't even say anything when I pointed out the pancake house for breakfast. You didn't even say anything when I got a cinnamon roll at the coffee shop!" "You had two servings of vegetables yesterday," Anakin mumbles, placing both hands on the wheel and looking at the road. Maybe if he pretends this stretch of flat wasteland road in front of him is the most interesting thing in the world and requires his entire concentration, Obi-Wan will drop the subject. Obi-Wan does not seem to pick up on this. He scoffs instead, and crosses his arms. "When has that ever been enough to you? Since this entire thing started?" "Obi-Wan--" "And we've been listening to my podcast for the past two hours!And you haven't mentioned it once!" "Fine," Anakin snaps, tightening his hands and then loosening his grip with effort. "Fine, congratulations. Yeah, something's wrong. I'm working through it though, okay?" On his side of the car, Obi-Wan draws himself up, and then seemingly shrinks himself down a moment later. "Is--" his hand falls onto Anakin's arm before it drops away. "Is this...because of the other night?" Anakin's jaw clenches. Them having sex hasn't just been kept to the other night. They fucked their way through all of North Dakota and Montana over the course of the last two days. But sure, the other night. "No." "Because if it is--" the omega's voice is timid and it makes Anakin's chest hurt. "You're not wearing my clothes," Anakin blurts out. "You smell different and I hate it and I know it's stupid and weird and some Dark Ages Alpha bullshit, but you need to be wearing my shirt or I'm going to fucking lose my mind, Obi-Wan." The words draw Obi-Wan up short. Anakin cuts his eyes to the side and he can see his omega's mouth hanging slightly open. Anakin taps his tongue against the back of his teeth. Great, now he sounds like some insane micro-managing lunatic. "And I think I'm going into rut." Now he sounds like a horny micromanaging lunatic. Perfect.

👻 ahh trick or treat for the naughtiest au that deserves NO treats!! 🧡

some nasty info on the cheating au i haven't talked about like. all their flying lessons. when obi-wan and anakin start fucking (before they're in love with each other), obi-wan devises a plan to get anakin alone more often so they can fuck on the weekends and not just at their places of work lol. it involves complaining to padmé about needing to really learn how to fly now that his uh valet has retired. he can't get a new one. no, that's not an option. so does padmé know anyone who flies very well and would be down to perhaps teaching him in their free time?

and padmé is like oh i do actually! my husband anakin is a very good flier. would you like me to connect you two? he came with me to your party.

and obi-wan is like i think i remember him :> he would be...available?

and anakin is guilty but very available

so they mostly spend all their flying lessons fucking in the cock pit because obi-wan's been able to fly since he was a kid. padmé learns about this either after the very end where she finds out about their affair, OR she learns about it in the lead up to the very end where she's feeling very suspicious but she's been ignoring it for THIS long so.....

🧛‍♀️🦇

trick or treat 🧡

twilight au 🧡

a headcanon for the twilight au! obi-wan's biggest pet peeve with anakin is that he absolutely hates being guided or directed in any way. he fights just to fight and obi-wan enjoys putting him in place but it would be fucking easier if anakin didn't spend so much time arguing over like. how many vegetables he should have a day. and how much water he needs to drink. obi-wan is a licensed doctor like 36 times over for fuck's sake.

anakin's biggest pet peeve is obi-wan constantly tries to mind trick him to see if his immunity will falter or fail. anakin's like for the love of god obi-wan im not a science experiment, jesus christ--'

and obi-wan hisses (cause vampire), and obi-wan's like 'you can't tell me you didn't just want to see if that was just a vampire myth'

assholes to each other <3 for eternity <3

😈 trick or treat 👽

omg smithsonian au......you know what they do for halloween, these two fuckers?? padmé invites everyone over to her (very fancy apartment) for pumpkin carving and obi-wan and anakin are so fucking annoying. they turn into a competition about who can carve the best pumpkin. obi-wan calls anakin's first attempt (a cat face) lowbrow (obi-wan carved a jellyfish), and anakin throws pumpkin guts into obi-wan's hair (he's a ginger, no one will even be able to tell!)

it goes on and on until padmé dismisses them from her apartment because it's either that or carve into anakin and obi-wan.

after getting kicked out of pumpkin carving they accidentally go on a romantic autumnal walk. they stop at a street light and anakin picks pumpkin guts out of obi-wan's hair.

it makes them feel so many things they're not mature enough to talk about

trick or treat! 🎃😸

oh ho ho the cult au! that doesn't even have a tag! (but basically it's an au where jedi obi-wan is tasked with investigating a Force adjacent cult on the desert planet Tatooine, and it's anakin obviously who is so powerful in the force he's made a whole cult out of it and sets his sights on obi-wan as his forever partner)

here is a 3 line drabble!

The boy's head tilts, and his eyes are heavy, piercing gold. They pin Obi-Wan in place even from across the room. It is immediately completely obvious who among the people in this room has influenced the Force. Even though the boy could not be more than twenty, his entire presence radiates pure power. Obi-Wan has never felt a Force signature so aggressive, so strong. For the first time since he heard the rumors, since the Council handed him the file for this mission, Obi-Wan can believe that there is a Child of The Force on this desert planet. A demi-god, whose attention can change futures, destinies-- "Approach," the boy commands, extending a hand out over the empty space surrounding him. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."

trick or treat 👽🎃

hello hello the selkie au <3

here is a bit of background thought on the selkie au! one of the things i include in most fics/characterizations of anakin is that he's a pretty one partner for life kind of person (in that he married padmé after being obsessed with her forever in canon, and one of my favorite fanons is that his very first crush/sexual awakening was obi-wan and then he would have totally married obi-wan if obi-wan was a bit different character)

but in selkie au, anakin has a very long history of dating/trying to fall in love, which is like pretty unique in my writing!

and obi-wan probably has like only a few partners he's been head over heels with, and he falls really hard for anakin which makes their (temporary) break up so much harder for him personally

trick or treat ! 😈

and omg for the space actors au??? ok ok

so obi-wan and anakin are in a holo film where they have to be jedi which will mean very serious research

and they absolutely go to the jedi temple and fuck in like a few sacred places, but tbh so many other jedi have also fucked there so that it's no big deal......even if they get caught.....and even if the make-up department has to spend a small fortune covering up their hickies they somehow got on a "research trip"

(the holonet runs a scandalous article about which jedi broke their vows of celibacy and slept with famed actor anakin skywalker?)

(obi-wan is offended that his handiwork is not recognized)

(the jedi order has to put out a statement to say that actually there are no enforced vows of celibacy though jedi may choose to follow whichever personal vows they would like)

(and if a jedi slept with anakin skywalker, the jedi council has decided they do not want to know. or hear about it anymore. thank you.)

🎃 trick or treat 🦇

i actually got asked for lslm 3 more times after you sent this in, but you were the first to ask after lslm so congrats on beating the crowd haha

ok sooooo here's a bit of the new chapter (remember, anakin's discovered that padmé has a golden wolf's mask in her luggage, what the council's intelligence has said is what the traitor will be wearing):

Padmé's eyes are unreadable when she looks back up at him. He’s been compromised. Fucking stars. He’s been compromised within the first five minutes of his mission. The enemy—the alpha in the golden wolf’s mask—she knows he is lying, she knows who he is, and she’s dangerous. She’s dangerous, and Obi-Wan is here. Anakin can feel his shoulders straightening at the reminder. Obi-Wan is here, sharing the same air as Amidala, the woman who now knows too much. If Anakin is compromised, it will only be a few minutes before Obi-Wan is compromised as well. Obi-Wan will not be threatened on this mission. Anakin will not allow it, even if it means silencing Amidala himself. She had shown him kindness and compassion when he had been nothing but a slave. And then again when he had been nothing but a boy crying out for his master. But it seems she’s forgotten what loyalty is.  Anakin can remind her. But before he can step forward into her personal space, slip control of his pheromones so that all she can smell is willing omega, tease her fingers before interlacing them with his own and pulling her out of the entrance room into a more private location—before he can take the first step towards extinguishing this threat to his alpha’s safety, someone touches Padmé’s bare shoulder.

trick or treat!! 🎃👻

a fish hook, an open eye--what a fic, thank you for sending this and therefore reminding me of it lol 🧡

hm quick head canon for this fic is....anakin actually honestly makes obi-wan a better person and sorta saves the galaxy. see, he would have stopped at nothing to take down the jedi order, but then anakin comes into his life and all his priorities sort of change.

mostly cause anakin doesn't really care about ruling the galaxy. he's very family focused (thanks, obi-wan) and he wants his family to be safe and hidden -- probably because a lot of sidious' initial teaching enforced in him that safe = hidden

and obi-wan...he doesn't actually want to give up his dreams and he would sure love to see the jedi die for no other reason than they're stingy about who gets to use the Force or whatever, but....he likes the family he has with anakin. he could be content with setting up an empire in the outer rim. he doesn't need galactic wide conquest. he's already conquered the bestest part of the galaxy (anakin)

cody is going to be sick. this is disgusting, and the thought that obi-wan and anakin actually make each other better is too awful to even consider. straight lies and deception.

🧛‍♀️🍬 trick or treat!!! 😈

oooo time traveler ahsoka au!

here is a drabble for time traveling ahsoka au during one of the re-dos (specifically, the one where obi-wan is duke of mandalore and anakin is a Jedi General married to Senator Amidala and they respect their duties at the cost of their almost love):

Even though Ahsoka had not screamed along with Anakin when she'd seen Obi-Wan's body struck by droid-fire---she could not, she had no body, just another thing to add to the long list of things she'd given up for this, for the galaxy---her throat feels raw, as if she has been sobbing for hours the way her master has been, seated slumped over in the chair next to the Duke of Mandalore's cot. Anakin is quiet now, though every so often a fresh tear will roll down his reddened cheek as he sits silently, hand clutching Obi-Wan's own. A part of Ahsoka is screaming at her to reset this scenario. Obviously, these two souls are as entangled together as their fingers currently are. But it would be cruel. Wouldn't it? To end this run now, when Obi-Wan and Anakin are so recently wounded? And they have been so reasonable up until this moment. They have been cordial, respectful---friends, brothers in arms. Obi-Wan has almost died. Surely, Anakin is allowed to mourn. Surely if Ahsoka existed in this scenario, if she were Anakin's padawan and she'd be struck down, he would sit at her bedside and cry over her sleeping form. Right? It takes three tries for the words to pass Anakin's lips, and when he does finally speak, Ahsoka can barely understand him. He has pressed his mouth to the back of Obi-Wan's hand. "Never again," he mumbles against the duke's skin. "You do not belong here, and I would--I would tear my heart out and leave it for safekeeping on Mandalore before I would watch you take on blaster fire again." Ahsoka's mouth opens, spell words meant to reset the circumstances on her tongue. It sounds like a love confession, and she knows that those such things are to be avoided. Her mind begins to race. A new scenario---this time, she will keep them apart forever---this time, they will never meet, and the galaxy will--- "When you wake," Anakin's voice derails her thoughts and holds her tongue. "I will send you back to your wife. And it will be the end. It will--it is time. To end." Ahsoka's mouth closes. The words evaporate. Her chest tightens, and though this should feel as if she's dodged a blaster shot, it feels like she's been hit.

trick or treat 🍬🧡

i gave a little drabble of the couples counseling au for the last trick or treating ask re: couples counseling au so i'm gonna give just a bit of a headcanon this time!

in couples counseling au, the jedi council absolutely knows that they're seeing a couples therapist who specializes in married partners 💙 probably a few of them think that anakin and obi-wan know that as well, but most of them are like. well. they'll figure it out right? some of it may be applicable? they're definitely better than how they were a month ago so, no harm no foul etc etc

[heartfulselkie]

Speaking of questions about your fics, how did you come up with the idea in Citrus and Lavender for Adrien to be left handed but forced to use his right? It’s a little detail in the story that helps so much to establish Adrien’s relationship with his family, and I would love to hear your thought process on it!

It's partly because of one of my own headcanons about Adrien! He's shown to be right handed in the show, but I like to think he's fairly ambidextrous (and even wrote a small snippet about it a while back). He was primarily left handed but learned to use his right as well since it's a "neater" hand to write with.

There's also a bit of my own experience in it too. I'm left handed and always have been (not ambidextrous though). I have a distinct memory though from when I was in primary school. We had a teacher subbing for a bit (I think the usual teacher was on maternity or something?) and this temp teacher did not like me. I was one of those kids that could coast through most things but would often not pay much attention. Since I actually did the work we were given though, the thing this teacher decided to tell me off for was my handwriting. I had terrible handwriting as a kid, and this teacher made a point of telling me it was because I was left handed. I couldn't keep my letters straight and made a mess of my papers by smudging pencil all over it. It didn't stop me from being left handed though and thankfully I only had that teacher for a few weeks. It's just one of those things thats always stuck with me.

I did learn later on that particular teacher was just being a bitch though as I went on to have a teacher the following year (I think?) who was super big on helping kids with their handwriting. Me being left handed never came up as an issue, she just went through writing exercises and taught me cursive until I could finally keep my letters on the lines.

Making Adrien left-handed/learned ambidextrous in C&L is indeed a reflection of his relationship with his family. Adrien has a creative and fun flair to him (left handed people are often said to be creative-types), but that really doesn't fit into the mold that his parents have set for him. Him learning to be right handed is representative of him learning to fit the perfect image that's expected of him. Emile and Gabriel have been very specific about how they want Adrien to be and how they see him, down to some very specific things that readers may or may not have picked up on.

He doesn't abandon his left handedness though and sometimes defaults to it without thinking (his writing differs between which hand he writes with though). So there's a bit of Adrien's rebellious streak to it too, its just in that quiet and subtle way that he might get away with if no one is paying close attention.

[swannposting]

Jack (on a side adventure with Lizzie?) comes across some supernatural thing that even he isn't about to fuck around and find out about. Something insane like a wardrobe being guarded on a ship and he opens it and snow comes out.

♡ Hi, anon! Thank you dearly for this prompt. I had a great deal of fun playing with this today. ♡ -> askbox is open for prompts whenever

“We never should have sailed north of the Carolinas, Lizzie.” 

Shivering like a wet dog, Jack trudges along a rocky beach at the heels of his Captain. He rubs at his elbows for warmth and lets out an ostentatious sneeze. 

“You know I hate the cold,” he grumbles, his voice thick and snotty, “And the clouds. Where’s the sun? Feels like me bollocks are goin’ to freeze off…”

“Keep that up.” Elizabeth taps at the compass cradled delicately in her palm. She pauses, squinting at the twitching needle, and Jack catches up beside her.

“Huh?” 

“You are being thoroughly annoying,” she informs him, “It’s stopping the compass from getting distracted by you.” 

“Hm. Well, you’re welcome. Can we leave now?” 

Her eyes roll irritably in his direction and she just walks onward, leaving him stewing in his bad mood. Jack stumbles on the unfamiliar terrain as he hurries after her. 

“Do you truly think there will be something of value here?” he says, following her around the corner of a cliffside, “Seems like this rock is entirely devoid of anything shiny.” 

“The compass seems to think so,” she replies, “I suspect it’s got something to do with the chalices. I’ve been wanting them terribly.” 

“Compass doesn’t work like that.”

“Sure it does,” she says matter-of-factly, “When one learns to get a handle on one’s own desires, she can be incredibly responsive.”

Jack scoffs, unwilling to believe that Elizabeth could have mastered the compass that has been his uncertain guide all his life. They continue along the base of one of the myriad of cliffsides found in the scattered islands north of the British Isles until they come across a break in the rock formation. It is almost like a staircase of stone. It isn’t man made, but it looks simple enough to scale. 

“Allow me, dearie,” Jack offers, stepping forward to take the lead as they climb. 

“No, you stay behind me,” orders Captain Swann, hopping gracefully up onto the first ledge. 

Of course, he should have known. If he is to take the lead, Elizabeth will be unable to discern if the compass is leading her to the treasure they seek, or in circles, following her dear old Jack. That gives him something to grin wickedly about as they ascend into the cliffside. Distracted by his own celebratory musings, he walks right into Elizabeth. They have reached the top of the cliff, where the ground is patchy with grass, and their anchored ship is visible in the distance. The captain has halted to look out at what they’ve found. 

“Huh. A shortcut?”

Elizabeth approaches a large opening in the ground. She kneels at the edge and peers down, then takes a pebble and drops it into the pit. It sinks with a whistle of air, and a splash echoes upward. 

“You aren’t actually thinking about going down there, are you?” asks Jack from where he stands at a safer distance. 

“I was considering sending you down there.” 

“Contrary to popular belief, I do not enjoy exploring massive, unfamiliar holes.”         

Still, he cannot help his curiosity, and he steps forward to peer down as well. 

“This must be the cave that they spoke of,” Elizabeth says thoughtfully, “You can hear the tide within. Seems like the compass just took us on the most direct route.” 

As she contemplates the sea cave below, Jack is suddenly spurred by a spirit of mischief. He does not mean to push Elizabeth into the pit, really. When he jolts her shoulders, he is only trying to give her a lighthearted scare, perhaps providing more of that helpful annoyance she asked for. But she startles, and slips, and the fragile earth beneath them crumbles at the edges. Gasping, she grasps at his coat as she falls, dragging him down into the abyss with her. Their shrieks shatter the silence of the cave, surely alerting anything that dwells there of their presence before they splash into the water below. 

The water there is dark emerald, illuminated by what Jack first thinks are some kind of gemstones. Until the gemstones move, and he realizes that the glow comes from the eyes of several creatures swirling past him underwater. Bubbles escape his mouth in a silent shout. He swims upward at top speed.

“Selkies!” he cries as he breaks the surface. Treading water, he spins about, searching for Elizabeth. 

“I know!” Elizabeth calls back. Jack spots her a ways away, being guided to a dark shore within the cave by a large seal. “They’re nice!” 

“No, they are not!” Jack splutters through his breaststrokes as he makes for shore, “They’re like mermaids, ‘Lizbeth. They’ll trick you!” 

But she pays no heed to his warning, and ends up on the ebony sands just before he does. Several of her new selkie friends follow, and as they emerge from the water, their seal skin transforms into pale, naked, human forms. Their eyes, huge like saucers and darker than the Black Pearl, lock with Elizabeth’s inquisitive gaze. He hears her whisper, “Beautiful…”  as she extends a hand to one of them. 

If Jack was cold before, he is positively turning to ice now. Drenched from head to toe, Jack wobbles to his feet and hurries to Elizabeth, tugging her away from the spell of the selkies. They hiss at him, exposing razor sharp teeth. Elizabeth yelps. Dozens of selkies within the water and on the shore all begin to circle the small strip of land upon which they stand, shivering with cold. 

“Do you think they are guarding that?”  

Elizabeth points further back in the cave. It seems that a bit of sunlight has broken the cloud cover and now shines through a small opening in the roof of the cave. The sliver of light reveals the remnants of a ship, wrecked and run aground. 

“Lovely observation, Lizzie dear,” says Jack, checking that his sword is still strapped to his belt, “Now what do you say we leave them to their duty, shall we?” 

Instinctively, they side-step until they are back to back, ready to draw their weapons and defend one another should the selkies use their teeth for more than just an unfriendly hiss. 

“No!” Elizabeth protests in a near whisper, “I want to see what’s in there.” 

“I expect more things that would love nothing more than to kill intruders such as you and I.” 

“We don’t know that! They could be nice.” 

“You almost became dinner for these things a moment ago.” 

Jack groans, covering his eyes for fear of the sekies’ spell. He hears movement beside him and peeks between his fingers to see that Elizabeth is boldly approaching the creatures. As fond as he is for his darling captain, he considers making a break for it and leaving her to sort out her own questionable decisions. 

“Hello!” greets Elizabeth, cheerily as she can muster to conceal the fear that Jack sees in her shaky smile. She gives a wave and holds up both hands in a sign of peaceful surrender. “Lovely to meet you all! And thank you very much for helping me to shore. I am Elizabeth Swann, Pirate Lord of the South China Seas and King of the Brethren Court.”

The selkies exchange looks and start to whisper among themselves in an unfamiliar tongue. Elizabeth casts a nervous glance at Jack, who is becoming very distracted by the terrifying visions of beauty that surround him. Before he can run, two selkies slink out of the water and come up behind him, sliding their long, dainty arms around his shoulders. The tallest of the selkies, and perhaps the most stunning of them all, steps up to Elizabeth, who holds her ground. 

“A woman king?” inquires the selkie in a melodic voice. Briefly in awe, Elizabeth blinks a moment before answering. 

“Indeed, I am.”

“And this man here– We saw him push you into the water. Would you like us to kill him for you?” 

“That was entirely accidental!” Jack calls out, struggling against the creatures and their pointy nails, “An awful misunderstanding really! Now if you’ll just kindly call off your ladies we can—”

Elizabeth shoots him a glare and holds up a hand to silence him, then smiles sweetly at what might be the selkie clan’s leader. 

“That is very kind, but no, thank you!” 

“Oh. Is he your… consort?” 

“Yes. I- I mean– no. Not exactly. He is more like my second in command. And I would like to keep him around. I do apologize for our intrusion. I can assure you we mean no harm.” 

“A pirate that means no harm?” says the leader, tilting her head. The other selkies let out a chorus of taunting laughter that makes Jack squirm. 

“Yes,” Elizabeth insists, “We mean you no harm.” 

“In our experience, pirates are liars who befoul our homes and slaughter our children.” 

The selkie leader’s anger is palpable. Elizabeth takes one step back, shuddering as a cold wind blows through the sea cave. 

“Those pirates are not our allies,” says Elizabeth, choosing her words carefully, “And I will make certain that any pirate who lives by the Code of my Brethren shall never harm you, or any of your children...” 

Jack winces. That sort of grandiose promise does not sound like something that could be easily enforced. But perhaps these are just words. Perhaps Elizabeth has seen sense and, like him, wants to get as far away from these isles as—

“...All I ask is to be permitted onto that ship you guard.” 

Bugger. Jack drags a hand down his face and groans again. If he ends up gnawed to death by a gorgeous seal-lady, he swears he will have a nasty message for William when the Dutchman comes to retrieve his soul. 

“That  ship?” The selkie leader inclines her head toward the back of the cave. Elizabeth nods. 

“I believe there might be something there that I am seeking. That is all we have come here for.” 

A disarming smile graces the selkie’s face, and her red lips stretch over teeth like sharpened pearls. She advances on Elizabeth, and Jack holds his breath, fearing that he is about to watch the gruesome demise of someone quite dear to him. Instead, the creature takes Elizabeth’s face in both her hands. 

“You are a very interesting Pirate King indeed. Have you been blessed by the sea?” 

Elizabeth’s lips part and her eyelashes flutter. It might be magic that has her entranced, or she might just be enraptured by this supernatural beauty. Jack can barely hear her say, 

“In a way, I am married to the sea.”

Her response pleases the leader, who touches her lips to Elizabeth’s forehead. 

“Then you have our blessing as well.” 

As the selkie leader draws back, Jack sees that Elizabeth’s face is bright pink, either from the cold, or that blessing. She and the selkie leader share a saccharine smile that Jack does not understand in the slightest. 

“Whatever it is that you seek is none of our concern. That ship is all that remains of a crew of men who failed to defeat us. We do not guard it. It is yours to explore.” 

And that is that. The leader calls off her fellow selkies, who retreat into the water and into the darkened corners of the cave. Jack scurries after Elizabeth, who heads straight for the shipwreck after graciously thanking the selkies. Together they shimmy up a splintering column of wood and nearly collapse onto the first deck they reach, which seems to be a captain’s quarters.

“Well, that was—”

“What the fuck  did you do that for?” hisses Elizabeth, her teeth chattering now, “We were lucky enough that they d-didn’t kill us, but our wet clothes may very well s-send us to our graves!”

With trembling hands, she opens up the compass again. She gives it a shake and lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“It’s spinning like mad now. What I w-want m-most in this world is t-to get warm!” 

Jack wraps her hands in his and rubs them together. When that fails to generate any real warmth, he gently takes back his compass and she hugs herself. 

“Let me try…”

Though it wouldn’t surprise him if the compass’s needle pointed him in the direction of the equator. He told  her that he hated going north, and for good reason. Jack rises to his feet and starts to pace the dusty old cabin. The needle settles and he turns to where it points. 

“Ah! How about this for a heart’s desire!” 

He stands before a large wardrobe, and to his delight, it is unlocked. Some sort of clothing must be inside, he hopes. Anything dry would do them good for now. However, something strange seems to emanate from the knobs. He hears Elizabeth come up behind him as he tugs open the doors. He expects the wardrobe to be full of dust. What tumbles out is a shock, to say the least. Heaps of powdery snow avalanche out onto his boots, and a cloud of the stuff goes fluttering outward as though an icy winter wind has been released from the depths of the wardrobe. He turns to Elizabeth, his dreads and facial hair covered in snowflakes. 

“Captain Swann?” 

“Yes?” 

“May I suggest we get the hell out of here?” 

Blinking away snow from her lashes, Elizabeth nods fervently. Jack steps back, kicking ice and snow from his boots, and something catches his eye. 

“Oh…? What’s this?” 

The cold bites at his bare hand as he stoops to reach into the heap. There, glinting beneath this bizarre indoor snowfall, is one of the two silver Chalices of Cartagena. Precisely what they have been searching for. He hands it to Elizabeth for her to marvel at. Then he snaps his compass shut and kisses it gratefully.

“Incredibly responsive. Seems this blasted thing knew where she was taking us after all!”

[skyliv]

ok today is not bad i am definitely not almost blushing in class

what i look like

[bokettochild]

Hi! i love all your work and recently I read the selkie king and literally I can't get it out of my mind. but I would like to know, do sky and wars find out later that legend wasn't actually kidding about the mer thing and that the story was genuinely based of him? Meaning that oh my gosh you're a mer and had all this horrible stuff happen to you?? (!!!)

Honestly, the both of them aren't sure what exactly to make of what Legend was saying because... he doesn't drop stuff like this lightly? But also, what?

More likely than not, I think they kinda just push it to the backs of their minds for a while until one day, when circumstances demand that Legend actually becomes a mer, things just start clicking. Warriors and Sky go from "that was just a weird thing he said, haha" to "holy crap, if he's actually mer does that mean he actually..?"

Warriors is suddenly rethinking his entire childhood and all his decisions leading up to telling Legend bed-time stories about himself and his own love life, meanwhile Sky is kinda sorta panicking because, holy crap did Legend actually get the love of his life killed?

Legend, in case you're wondering, is meanwhile oblivious.

Because he is a Link.

In his mind, he's already told them "hey, I'm a mer and something bad once happened" so he has no clue that actually turning into a mer scared the shit out of them. He also has no clue that they're only just now figuring out what he meant.

[starswimmingart]

Happy Selkie Search Release Day!!! I drew a new cover to celebrate! :D

enjoy silly seal shenanigains!  Bonus:

[purpleandgreen13]

I'm completely devastated by the continued amazingness of the peeps over on Grapefruit Sky. I am writing a Stardew Valley/Selkie folk tale over on AO3 ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/49552153/chapters/125061994 ) and the first chapter is song lyrics, which the INCREDIBLE @robynewren put to music for me!

Listen to it here: https://www.tiktok.com/@becsnar/video/7287584339280350496

I have been listening to it all day and it's completely perfect and wonderful, as is Robyn herself

[thepinklink]

For your word game: Detached

Legend looks down at his hands. He wonders when he started feeling so detached, when his hands started looking like they weren’t his anymore. He’s so tired…but does he really have a right to feel this way?

[ladytauria]

👻 What is one WIP you think you may never pick back up?

🤔hmmm

so in recent years i've mostly stopped posting wips bc, despite the best of intentions i have a hard time finishing them lol

buuut. looking through my drafts...

there are a couple i don't see myself working on again any time soon lmao.

two in particular stand out. one is a selkie!jason wip & the other is one that was, according to my notes, inspired by a fancomic. past me did not think to leave a link to this comic, bc she's helpful like that <3

the latter wip takes place at a winter gala. tim is by himself, keeping an eye on the others & making his rounds through the gala, checking off a mental list of people to talk to. he's kinda starting to flag, though; keeping up his timothy drake-wayne personality through so many conversations is kinda taking a toll on him.

and as he's mid conversation with one of the people on his list--

“Excuse me.” Tim catches a whiff of expensive cologne, chased by gunpowder, smoke, and leather. A warm hand finds the small of his back, and—almost without his own permission—he finds himself relaxing into it. “I hate to interrupt, but—” Jason steps into view, dressed to the nines in a perfectly fitted tux and deep red waistcoat. His hair is artfully messy; a roguish smile on his face. “Could I have this dance?” He cocks his brow. Tim knows him well enough to see the nerves—the sheepishness in his eyes, the way he braces himself for rejection. He doesn’t have anything to worry about. Tim is helplessly, hopelessly endeared. He barely manages to tamp down on his grin, keeping his answering smile something more polite.

their relationship at this point is still new and tentative--it started when one of their cases crossed, and each realized the other was working a lot of hard, dangerous cases with little to no back up. which was fine when they were doing it, but not so fine that the other is. u know. the usual :P

so they start working together. mostly. but then jason gets injured doing something dumb, without calling for tim like he should have. and tim reminds him that they'r partners. the whole point of them teaming up was that neither of them is supposed to be fighting alone anymore.

which---when tim asks why jason is at the gala, when he hates them & also has no reason to be there since he's not been legally resurrected... jason tells him more or less the same thing.

"we're partners, right? no more fighting alone."

and then tim kisses him in front of everyone, not caring even a little bit that it will probably be all over the society pages the next morning <3

but! i have two issues with this fic. issue a) writing the gala. and then issue b) it almost feels like it should be a scene in a longer work, so i can work that backstory in? but i don't... really have a plot. i could probably make it work anyway, but! i dunno. right now too many other wips have my attention so even if i don't abandon this one entirely, it will be a long time before i pick it back up.

and then the selkie!jason wip is p easy to explain. i had an idea for a single, solitary, poignant scene and utterly NO ideas for the plot that would lead UP TO that lovely scene.

so.

here's the scene, which would, theoretically, be the closing lines:

Jason runs his thumb over his coat, the leather of its disguise buttery soft, and watches Tim. He’s utterly at ease on Jason’s couch, scrolling through his phone, one arm dangling off the armrest. Jason swallows, stomach twisting with nerves. He takes a breath—in through the nose, out through the mouth. Then, he strides forward, clenching his coat a bit tighter. He kneels in front of Tim, capturing his attention. His phone falls to the side as Tim’s brows furrow. Before he can ask what Jason is doing, Jason unfurls his coat, wrapping it around Tim’s shoulders. His eyes grow wide. “Ja— wh—“ Jason can feel the heat on his face. Knows he has to be pink, at the very least. But he doesn’t stop, tugging Tim forward and into the briefest, chastest kiss before resting their foreheads together. “Caught you,” he murmurs. The smile he receives is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

context? ur guess is as good as mine <3

[ fanfic writer ask game ]