#Feir writing

[elsabet-writes]

Daily Writing Adventures: We have Established that our Main Man is perpetually sleep deprived (yay, representation!) and also could not keep a house plant alive if his life depended on it.

[christian-oc-tournament]

Please vote based on the picture AND the description!

Feire [False Colours @elsabet-writes]

Feire is a mage with far too much on her plate. She SHOULD have been the bookish and quirky daughter of two rather eccentric architects, but she has unfortunately had to shoulder the responsibility of being the only levelheaded person in her eclectic found-family group. By day Feire works as an artificer and by night she spies on the shady ring of rival mages bent on taking over her industry and by extension, her beloved hometown. Using her superior knowledge of her hometown (designed by her ancestors) she’s managed to become quite a thorn in her enemies’ collective side, but her days are numbered, and if she is to undermine their nefarious plans, she’ll have to ally herself with her brand new arch-nemesis to do it…but can she manage the task without being unmasked? Feire hides behind her reputation as a hard working and mild-mannered—if somewhat odd—professional in her distinctive pale coat that marks her as an artificer. People tend to overlook her, because she’s always right where she’s supposed to be…or is she?

Gail Goffrey [Terrarium Lights @larissa-the-scribe]

An empty-nester with a passion for moss, bugs, and terrariums--and adopting stray kids (ghosts) who end up in her garden. She might not really understand what is going on, but by golly she is going to be a kind, supportive influence. 

[eclipian]

Random Member #1

reminder beings will almost definitely not turn out exactly as described, and these can be edited and changed as needed.

divider credit

Names: Elowen , Eirian , Ossian , Evelina , Sylvie , Zephyrine , Solange Age: 23 yo Pronouns: Ae/Aer , Fae/Faer , Fei/Feir , Ny/Nym , Sie/Hir , Shy/Hyr , Sie/Mer , Ce/Cer , Ce/Cir , Cae/Caer , Cae/Caem , Cy/Cyr , E/Em , Ey/Em , 🔮/🔮s , 💜/💜s , 🌌/🌌s , 📚/📚s , 📘/📘s Gender: Nonbinary , Genderelfo , Elvencorgender , Bibliovis , Librarygender , Inlibral , libraryaesic , Orientation: Lesbian , Elfdivnaffectis , Elforestiyn , Bookallion , Book Objectum Species: Elf Roles: Librarian , Archivist , Academic Aesthetics: Classic Academia , Fairycore , Vulture Culture

Interests/likes: Reading , Writing , The library , The quiet Dislikes: Loudness , Crowds , People being loud in the library Kins: Twilight Sparkle (MLP G4)

pt: names , pronouns , age , gender , orientation , others ids , species , roles , aesthetics , interests / likes , dislikes , kins , details

[taylorswiftkin13]

Intro post

❤️🧡🤍💗💜 ❤️🧡🤍💗💜 ❤️🧡🤍💗💜 ❤️🧡🤍💗💜

Name: Taylor or Tay!

Pronouns: Fey/Fem/Feir, She/Her, They/Them

Sexuality: Lesbian/Queer

Gender: FemFluid/Catgender

Hobbies: Baking, playing with my cats, playing my guitar, writing songs, smoking weed

Kins: Taylor Swift and Catkin

This is my blog where I post my random thoughts, talk about my feelings and try make some new friends!

[specters0rd]

BORK BORK! Ha, just kidding, welcome to the blog!

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| 20 | Pisces Sun, Aqua Moon, and Cancer Rising | Adhd & ASD| 🇺🇸 🇲🇽

formerly known as the-ghost-duck. Nickname is Duckie.

I go by she/her. Currently testing out Fe/fem/Feir and they're are reserved for friends if they want to use them. You can switch between she and fe (pronounce like te in Spanish). Like I said I'm testing it out.

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Rules

If I find sort of RadFem/SWERF/TERF rhetoric, blocked on site.

Basically, any phobias and isms will get you blocked from me.

What do I do, you say?

Well, I do draw and write over on my side blog @duckies-creative-hub

Do you have other blogs?

Yup! Here's all of them

My Harrison rp/ask blog -> @ask-harrison-gray

My Sariel rp/ask blog -> @ask-sariel-noir

My Cyran rp/ask blog -> @ask-cyran-rose

My writing and art blog (again) -> @duckies-creative-hub

My rp blog for self-inserts and ocs -> @duckies-ocs-and-persona

Languages I can speak?

I can only speak English', but I'm currently trying to learn Spanish.

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Ikevamp hubbies/ Fixations (currently)

Enemies-to-lovers? Arthur Conan Doyle

One true hubby master ? Theodorus Van Gogh

Part-in-Crime? Dazai Osamu

Blorbo/kinnie-ish? Issac Newton

My angel? Vincent Van Gogh

Mystic Messenger Obsessions (currently)

Gamer boi? Yoosung

Emotional Support Bastard? Seven (Saeyoung)

Obey be Faves? (currently)

Kinnie/Soulmate? Leviathan

Emotional Support Dumbass? Mammon

My one and only bookworm? Satan

Fictional Son? Luke

The KId at the Back

My precious yandere? Solivan "Sol" Brugmansia

(more to be added)

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[bawkrya]

🍋 🍓 ?

🍋What's the most dramatic/emotional moment in your lore? Explain it, or write one short paragraph of prose set during that moment

ANOTHER HARD THING TO ANSWER BC OF MULTI CLAN STUFF . . . .quick out of context clips!

Camir's assassination, and Craftwood "killing" Xidorn, revealing her tattoos in the process (aka revealing shes the matriarch of the Craftwood family, and not just a figurehead)

Yagmur being revealed to be the writer Xu

Bawkrya being hit by the Mystery Mage (name pending) giving him the curse he lives with today. Also when he was exiled from Clan Lampyri!

This is more like gay sex emotional/dramatic but Danilo & Alens confrontation after Alen 1. Executed danilos father. 2. Punished danilo for the private council. Dont think about this too hard.

Actually if i included the insane gay sex tension bits this list would be insanely long. (Holding Bawkrya in my palms)

When the two dragons of the Malignant Redwood Clan found Trolen in the labyrinth

Aand uumm Wafer confronting Feir about what was actually happening to the dragons that Wafer was helping him smuggle out of the burrow market. ❤️ yay!

And strawbeby has been answered here!

[the-superman-kent-blog]

honestly joker could have been a great hero if he didn’t kill anyone i mean the guy is a genius but he wastes his talents on killing people i’m seriously he could’ve created the cure for cancer or depression but he had to kill i just don’t understand the joker he had one bad day whatever that was and he decided to become a killer and a psychopath dispite have intelligence cemperable to Batman’s honestly i don’t get him i get you superman why you do what you do but joker i just don’t understand why he does what he dose what made the joker the joker but whatever it is i don’t get it if it is means anything than yeah i might knew if you see a joker wearing a hawiian shirt and jacket with a camera that would be Batman’s creation to be feir batman don’t know who he was but he was scared of batman before becoming the joker he was a guy who just like batman or Bruce wayne found himself in the wrong place at wrong time he tripped and fell into the very chemical’s that made into the joker he had a family that he was told died before he become the joker what do you think about that i still find him pretty pitiful he’s a sick sad man but one then the less but just gotta ask what say about that

These are all good points. May i use them in an article I'm writing?

[lifeneedsrot]

🪱hewwo uwu!!!! I’m Taaaaaazzy, Tazelein, contender for #1 worst person ever! I love being horrible and hated. Temporary intro post to make our blog less blank

Alter in a system and the biggest source of shame and self-loathing for the system, very toxic and terrible! I’m the evil one <3

Me n a few others will use this account, ssssooooo I’ll give you the run-down of who will probably be here! We use silly emojis to represent who’s talking elsewhere but I’m the only one writing this post. Made this account for us filthy nasty horrible rotten disgusting evil alters that the host likes to pretend don’t exist!

“🪱” me! Tazzy wazzy. Any pronouns work, the other alters refer to me as “he” for simplicity but I exist beyond pronouns. I’m the filthiest, rotten, worst thing ever! You cannot hurt me in any way that matters. Advocate for my right to wrong anyone

“🕸️” Webby-do-darling-sweetie-baby. Webbarachne or Webber is what they go by. “Websie” is a no-no nickname that gives them horrible flashbacks! They use any pronouns, with a preference for “it”. They are my offspring that was produced with Aranya! Also cannibalized us both, but, we’re back now <3. Websie likes bondage quite a bit and fantasizes about kidnapping people and tying them up in an attic to keep forever. Little babypie got us cancelled big time for abusing our ex

“♣️” Aranyarachne. My ex-wife! We were never actually married. She goes by she/it. Disgusting spider thing, big titty goth milf arachne spider centaur thing. She’s a dommy mommy who loves oviposition and laying her eggs in you until they hatch and cannibalize your body!

“🐜” Suzie. She’s a human girl that Aranya kept as a pet. Weak little thing. Pathetic wet thing. Doesn’t really understand pronouns, we just call her “she” for convenience

“🏛️” what name are they going by again? Oh right! Lambsilk. Cult enthusiast! Wants to start a new religion. Definitely not related to their fascination with cults! They’re definitely not interested in starting a cult. Idk their pronouns, simplyplural says they/them

“❣️” Redmageddon or red! Suuuuper obsessive. Wrote love letters with the body’s blood <3 (how cute!)… used to be some sort of weird begging to get our ex to torture us or something, now adores our only friend who stuck around after we got cancelled for being an abuser! It/its pronouns preferred, they/them accepted begrudgingly

“🎊” my niece! Puerejynx, goes by Jynx. Hates me. Wanted vengeance on someone for ruining her life, and then she unfortunately realized that she ruined her own life and doesn’t want vengeance anymore! Still loves horrible things. A spoiled rotten brat, thinks she deserves everything in the world, god complex, all the best things <3… pronouns fluctuate, she is always acceptable

“🫐” my nephew, Solynx. He/they. Cursed by his daddy (my cutesy baby brother) to be unable to use language to communicate, but he gets around it. Very boring and normal and vanilla and uninteresting. Once referred to as “the only sensible person in the system” which translates to “literally the most boring person in the system”

“🎆” the bitch with anger issues. Starbound. A lazer-shooting dragon. Also an angel, but who gives a shit? We call her she/her for simplicity

“🦤” Sethil, fey/fem/feir. A victim of absolutely horrible, atrocious abuse! Isn’t that cute? Probably won’t front, I’m just including fem because fey’d be disgusted to be on this list!

“🚀” Rocket, he/him. Hates everyone, thinks we’d be better off alone. Looks like Rocket from GOTG, only vaguely similar in identity, doesn’t consider his source to be “him”

“💋” Amour. Any pronouns, usually she/her, only refer to her with the utmost disrespect and fetishization. A whore.

“🦊” Ren Hana, he/him. Introject or whatchumacallit from BTD/TPOF. Considers his source to be “him”

“🍂” Lawrence, he/they. Introject or whatchumacallit from BTD. Idk what his relationship to source is and idc

“🩸” Yuri, she/her. Introject or whatchumacallit from DDLC. Considers her source similar to her and enjoys the story, but not actually her

There’s more of us but they don’t want to be associated with me in any capacity <3!!!! Which I don’t really care about and I’d love to humiliate them and doxx ourselves and get cancelled and then murdered, but unforch I’ll be kicked out of front if I try 💔

Anyway, all you need to know about us is that we were cancelled for abusing our ex! We absolutely did everything they said we did <3. It was super accidental though and we didn’t mean it 🥺

I don’t give a shit about human politics. You all deserve to be tortured forever without the mercy of death. I only support people’s wrongs, not their rights <3

[inevitable-pretty-chaos]

So... Wren has been tired lately because we have choir rehearsals every day and it's hard for them to form their thoughts and write with others after school. It's just like... Wren's brain isn't letting fem communicate and it deletes most of feir thoughts. So flame has problems with talking until flame rests. And the rest can last even two hours. It's really annoying.

~Xavery

[reliquiaen]

i have watched 1666 now and i’m having FEELINGS. like i was fully having war flashbacks to studying the crucible in high school (amusement at solomon’s wife being goody goode like sorry that’s too funny, dying of laughter i’ll be back later) with sarah feir’s whole story and i’m having EMOTIONS about it. but also i’m sitting here thinking: sarah feir as a commentary on the final girl. doomed by the narrative. haunting the narrative. there is no narrative without her. there is no final girl without her. she is the beginning and the end. (maybe??? teaser for a follow up???) she outlives the narrative. she’s dead but her handprint is everywhere. she can’t be the final girl by the very definition because she’s not final but she IS FINAL as in the final say on the matter. her last words were the final words. using deena’s face as sarah’s face in 1666 was awesome bc it was layering both of them together; a reflection of their struggles, their goals, but also where deena could be considered a more traditional final girl it’s sarah who put her in that position. from the grave! from the grave she is writing this story! i will be rotating sarah feir in my brain like she’s a rotisserie chicken for the next week. 

i’m sitting here thinking about what kind of follow up they could do and like. there was a book right? surely no one would be stupid enough to do the same thing twice, it’d be too obvious, there has to be other rituals in there. revenge story? someone from shadyside doing a ‘sunnyvale have a taste of your own medicine’ plot? ziggy bringing her sister back wrong? literally any of those characters who lost people to the curse doing that same thing. are there other things you could sacrifice? this is brain rot activated okay sorry to my current projects we’re thinking about this now.

your brain worms finally convinced me to watch fear street and i'm having a blast. gotta watch 1666 (tomorrow hopefully) but it's so good. really set the mood by having a nose bleed right before i sat down to watch the first. excellent scene setting

This makes me insanely happy. Like truly what joy. Please come talk to me about all your thoughts immediately please and thank you. I’m so excited for you to watch 1666!!! It’s my favorite (cue emotions and heart eyes)

Also way to commit to the aesthetic! I really admire that level of dedication!

[elsabet-writes]

I have come to a most distressing conclusion: This story needs to be told from first person POV.

[christian-oc-tournament]

Please vote based on the picture AND the description!

Saskia [False Colors @elsabet-writes]

Saskia is a teeny tiny feral gremlin girl sent to study abroad by parents who feared her abilities as a blood-mage. Adopted into the family of her first-cousin-once-removed, Saskia has finally found a family that wants her, but her past just won’t let her go. Fueled by a deep desire to cause maximum chaos, Saskia has allied herself with her cousin, Feire, and has been helping her spy on a ring of deeply shady and corrupt corporate mages whose goal is to take over several of the town’s thriving industries to line their own pockets. Saskia stands out in a crowd, with her bright hair and willingness to cause a scene. Friends and enemies alike respect her for her ability to take down opponents twice her size using her distinctive style of blood magic.

Senaka [Krudunia Zrea @scribbly-bear]

Senaka is sisterly and compassionate and she doesn't hesitate to stand up to what she believes is right. She is a sheema, a creature I made up, she is also a shek. (princess) Senaka has grown up during a war between the mythical creatures and the humans. She was raised to believe humans were evil, but after meeting one for herself she realizes this isn't true. She teams up with him as well as a few mythical creatures to stop the war peacefully.

[feirswifttail]

Chapter 1

[Note: So I never actually posted this!!! I wanted to get back into writing about my character Kairos so I went back to re-read what I had written before. And I’m like, girl where’s the rest? So here’s the first chapter, or basically the introduction.]

"psst, Kairos. Check this out!"

Kairos snapped out of her thoughts at the sound. She gave  her wrench one last push to make sure the bolt was securely fastened, and then popped out from the cannon she was working on. 

"What's u-

"Shhh," Airen cut her off, covering Kairos' mouth with a greasy paw. "S'posed to keep this on the downlow. Don't know who could be listening" Kairos followed her suspicious gaze back and forth across the workfloor, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

"Well, I guess there's no need to tell me if I can't know about it," Kairos shrugged and pushed Airen's paw away. "Best way to keep a secret is to not know it." She smiled impishly as she pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket to wipe the grease off her face, and used it  to tie back her hair out of her face. 

"Kai you *know* I have to tell you now," Airen huffed, "Secrets are also no fun if you can't share them with at least somebody. But this isn't a silly cub secret - check this out," she pulled out some kind of crumpled papers - no, blueprints. To some kind of... Musket?

"Airen, our 'band is working on outfitting cannons, not infantry weapons."

"I know but this is different. It's not the blueprints for just any musket, it's for the," she paused, then leaned in close and whispered "Ghostbore Musket."

Kairos pulled away and stared at Airen wide-eyed. "Wait, *The* ..." she hesitated to say the name out loud. Now she knew why Airen was being so hush-hush.

"Yes. *The*" Airen repeated. 

"Wh- How did..." Kairos struggled to find the right words for all the questions filling her mind. These plans, hardly anyone even Knew about them, let alone was allowed to look at them. To have an actual Copy, or maybe even the Original, given how worn the paper looked to be. She leaned in and whispered to Airen "Does the Legionnaire know?"

"Of course, he's the one who gave them to me," she whispered back. It was a good thing both of the charr's horns did not grow forward due to how close they were whispering. Airen's whiskers brushed against Kairos' as she smiled, then pulled back and gave a little hop of excitement. "I can't wait to get started working with these. We're supposed to outfit these cannons, and-"

"Wait hold up," Kairos interrupted. "Why didn't he call the warband around and have us all go over this? Seems kind of important." It seems kind of suspicious, she thought to herself. 

"He probably didn't want anyone to overhear and steal our ideas. Or get jealous. You know how ol' Burntstep can be," Airen waved the air, as if to push away any of her own doubts.

"Is anyone else going to be helping us with this? I mean, we need someone to *read* the plans," Kairos poked a claw at Airen playfully. 

"ye- Hey!" she squeaked at the poke, causing both charr to giggle. "Just because I misread those plans that One Time, no one ever lets me catch a break!"

"I'm kidding, Airen," Kairos smiled at her friend. "Let's grab a quick drink and talk this over more inside."

"Kairos it's not even noon," 

"I meant water you doofus," she replied. "Besides, I really think Tenrad and Shiv would wanna get in on this. They're usually around for an early lunch, maybe we can catch one of them."

"Alright let's go then," and with that, the two of them set off towards the workyard break station.

The break station was basically the same as any other Iron legion workyard breakstation. There was a small campfire, a mid sized cooler to store the meat for lunch and water, and a few chairs to sit down while on break. One for every butt in the 'band, so nine unoccupied and two being used right now. Tenrad and Cordelia looked up and waved  as Kairos and Airen approached, and scooted so there was room for the four to all sit together.

"Airen, and Kairos, just the gals we wanted to see," Cordelia growled, but in that special Cordelia way that made you know she was Very pleased to see you. But also still intimidating. "Burntstep told us to wait for you. Said it was big. Let's see what you've got."

"It is big," Kairos agreed, pulling up a chair and setting down.

"Huge, you could even say," Airen added, also getting seated.

"Well don't toy with us, just spill it," Tenrad huffed, crossing his arms.

Airen beckoned everyone in closer, until their whiskers brushed uncomfortably against each others'. 

"We've got the Ghostbore blueprints," she whispered. Cordelia and Tenrad both narrowed their eyes in suspect and looked over at Kairos, who gave them a nod of affirmation. 

"Well, I'll be," Tenrad raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "The real deal?"

"The real deal," Airen confirmed, and leaned back. Kairos pinned her ears back, and the other charr looked around to see what she heard.

"Kairos can't you let a guy have an entrance?" a shifty voice came up behind them. They looked on to see Shiv, holding his hands over his heart and pouting out his lip dramatically.

"You're just mad I can hear your tippy toes," Kairos gave him a friendly crooked sneer in greeting as Shiv pulled up another chair to their meeting. "Sure you're not an Ash legion spy, here to take our secrets?"

"Guilty as charged," Shiv replied. "So, spill 'em. Let's hear about this 'Real Deal'."

"Burntstep got us a copy of the Ghostbore blueprints," Cordelia growled softly. Airen had handed them over to her, and she tilted the top towards Shiv so he could read the title.

He let out a whistle of disbelief. "Guess I got my work cut out for me, assuming ol' Burntstep wants to keep this under wraps?"

"I'd assume he wants us to keep it secret, otherwise he would have told the whole 'band," Kairos agreed. She was excited to get started working with the 'prints. How did they make it work against the ghosts so well? Could the technology really be stretched to fit their cannons? How much longer were they all going to sit around and not be working on this? Her tail twitched anxiously as her thoughts spun.

"He wants us to outfit our cannons with this stuff?" Tenrad asked, looking up from the plans Cordelia had passed over to him. "Looks tricky. Good thing we're the best 'band in all the legions." 

"C'mon, let's get working, then," Airen shuffled her feet as all of them looked towards Cordelia for their next move. As the Legionnaire's second in command, leadership of their little project fell onto her shoulders.

"Yeah yeah alright you grease kittens, let's get a move on," Cordelia growled as she stood up and started moving towards the cannon area of the workyard. The three followed her and Shiv slunk off to keep watch. 

[/time break]

The past few weeks had started wildly exciting, but had slowed to  a bore. Kairos blew a strand of hair out of her face as she screwed the two pieces of metal together. The Ghostbore plans were a lot more of a challenge than they had anticipated, and converting the firing mechanism from a hand weapon to their cannons was proving incredibly difficult.

"Why has this gotta be so hard?" Airen complained, laying flat splayed on the ground next to where Kairos was working.

"Because we're not doing anything new," Kairos answered, furrowing her brow as she looked back at her plans. "Just playing copycat with someone else's toys." The part she had made almost exactly like the plans outlined, and yet did not seem to work. Did the measurements have to be Exact? She had double checked the math on her scale increase, so it should be the exact same just 2x bigger. What was the secret to this?

"Cordelia has already gotten bored and is working with the other half of the 'band," Airen complained more. "And Tenrad is still cleaning up after he spilled whatever the heck these things shoot outta them off out of his fur."

"And you're still laying there, complaining to me instead of working," Kairos tried to jeer in a playful way, but her frustration must have come out more than she intended.

"Hey, I really was trying. But this is hopeless" Airen sat up, and started picking at her tail. 

"It's not hopeless, but yea, I'm frustrated too," Kairos sighed, putting down her current project. "I wish we coulda talked to the charr that wrote the original plans. Maybe then we could make some progress." Probably not. She'd heard rumors that they were a bit of a loose cannon. Tribune Brimstone had taken a liking to them, and she'd heard enough about him to know his priorities did not align with the Iron Legion's best interests.

"I'm gonna go shoot our prototype musket, see if I can determine what it's shooting," Airen started to stand up.

"Not again," Kairos argued. "Doing the same thing over and over isn't gonna give you any new results."

"I know," Airen sighed. "I'm just bored."

"Hmm," Kairos hummed, thinking. They had created an exact replica of the Ghostbore Musket from the original blueprints first, to try to understand how it worked. But the annotations on the plans were shoddy at best, and completely omitted for most pieces. And the thing didn't seem to require any sort of bullet, or ammunition of any kind. Fueled by some kind of magic instead. Tenrad had found out when he'd spilled the weird substance and couldn't seem to wash it out of his fur. 

"Waiiiittt..." Kairos drew out, trying to piece together something. The musket didn't take any bullets or ammunition, but managed to somehow form magic. All of them were Ironheads, with not much magic to share between them, yet somehow the gun had filled itself up. "Why don't we take it out for a field test?" Why didn't she think of it before? Firing test dummies would never get them the real 'Ghostbore' results like shooting an actual ghost would get! 

"But, won't we get seen?" Airen asked, hesitant.

"Who are you and what have you done with Airen?" Kairos joked at her. Airen was never one to ignore a risky adventure. She must have taken this whole secrecy thing to heart.

"I mean, yes I want to, but what if Burntstep finds out?"

"Then we better make sure he doesn't find out," Kairos nudged her friend. "Besides, ghosts are like flies out there, it'll be easy to lure one into some secret place where no one will see us. And you know I'll hear if anyone is coming."

"Well, you got me there," Airen shook the floor dust off of her. "C'mon, let's go quick."

"Not right now," Kairos laughed at Airen's eagerness to go. "Let's wait until dark."

[/later that night]

"Kai, I'm having second thoughts," Airen hissed softly from behind Kairos. The two of them had snuck out into the night and were hiding out near a small camp filled with ghosts. Kairos watched them, meandering around with a pointless purpose. The human ghosts acted like they were in the thick of a war, eternally cursed to believe their home was under attack. Some even mimed like they were cooking a meat that wasn't there over an unlit fire, and some lay on blankets that had long since rotted away. Trapped in time. She almost felt pity towards them, if they weren't such violent invasive pests on her peoples' homeland. 

Kairos turned towards Airen, holding a claw to her lips to keep quiet. She tiptoed over to where one of the ghosts stood off on his own, like he was supposed to be keeping watch. His head nodded periodically, like he was falling asleep. Ghosts don't sleep, but these believed they were still human, and acted as such. The musket seemed heavier in her hands as Kairos got in position. She had to make a clean shot, so as to give her enough time to examine her kill before the next watchman came out. She hoped the musket worked as intended, because if it didn't kill him in one shot, her and Airen would have a camp full of ghosts on their tails.

She took aim, slowing her breath so she heard nothing except the heartbeat of her prey. Or, she would have, had her prey have a heart. She fired the rifle, briefly surprised when it made no sound. She knew from the testing range the gun was silent, but using it outside she must have unconsciously believed it would be different.

And her aim held true. The magic that flew from her weapon met it's mark, and the nodding ghost... was gone. It happened almost too quick for her to see, and it took a second for her thoughts to register what had really happened. The shot pierced the ghost right through the neck, and as he dematerialized, seemed to be sucked into the space created by the shot. 

Time stood still for Kairos. She held her breath, waiting for the camp to go up in alarm, or for Airen to call something, heck, she almost expected Legionnaire Burntstep to pop up behind her to scold her on sneaking out. 

But none of that happened. Nothing happened. A bird or insect made a quiet sound far in the distance. Kairos slowly let out the breath she was holding, and time started again.

She slunk over to where the guard had been standing. No traces of ghosts. She examined her gun. Nothing was different. She crept back over to where Airen was hiding, and was met with a wide-eyed expression.

Airen opened her mouth and closed it a few times, her face a clear picture of the gears in her mind turning. Kairos smiled at her, sharing an expression of the same disbelief, but also triumph. The field test proved useful, in a way. They wordlessly moved back to their 'band bunks. Talking could wait until morning.

[/next morning]

"Kairos, I couldn't sleep," Airen whispered first thing in the morning.

"I know," Kairos replied. Airen's tossing and turning had kept her up most the night. Also the thoughts about the gun. She was beginning to piece it together. The Ghostbore Musket was rumored to not only kill ghosts, but to delay their reformation, possibly forever. 

"Kairos, you have a look," Airen said as she poked her head over her bunk, leaning over where Kairos lay. "Did you figure it out?"

"I..." she hesitated. Did she figure it out? She had plenty of ideas, but she had to test them to be sure. "I might have something. It might be completely wrong." Airen's eyes widened, eager to hear.

"How much time you need?"

"Give me 5 minutes to have some breakfast, then meet me by the cannon workbench," Kairos replied.

[/a few minutes later]

Airen was waiting for her by the workbench, munching on a roast chicken. They hadn't been making much progress, so the 'band wasn't getting much red meat anymore. 

"Ok, so here's my thoughts," Kairos began as Airen listened intently. "I think this rifle uses some kind of mists magic."

"Like, from the Mists?"

"Yea. I don't know how, but it does. Something about when it hits the ghost, it maybe opens up some sort of portal to the mists, small enough to suck the ghost in."

"But how does that stop them from coming back?"

"I think the cursed ghosts maybe never go to the mists. Like, when we kill 'em they don't actually get killed but instead just get smashed, like sand. Then they put themselves back together." Kairos shrugged. It sounded like a sound theory, but could also be wrong. Airen seemed convinced though.

"That's wild," she said. "I thought maybe the gunshot somehow just killed them even faster, which made them take longer to get their ghost thoughts together." she shrugged. "Yea, I don't understand ghosts or human magics."

"Yea, who knows what humans are thinking, ever." Kairos laughed.

"Ok ok, but tell me more," Airen urged.

"Yes so I think the gun uses some sort of mists magic. So, if we can figure out how, and I think it has something to do with the weird magic-y stuff. Something in the shape and size of the original blueprint is able to tap into the mists, or form some sort of connection, or, or something." Kairos spun her hand around, hoping the motion would move her mind in the right direction. She had ideas and thoughts, but they weren't quite at the word phase yet. 

"Ok, makes no sense to me. But I think you have an idea of what to do," Airen's muzzles moved around to follow the motions Kairos made. "Tell me what I can do to help."

The two of them got to work. Airen gathered the parts Kairos requested, and held up some of the heavier pieces. Kairos pulled her hair back with one of her grease handkerchiefs, trying to keep from being distracted. If her idea was right, this could really be huge. They made five of the ammo pools same as the original design, and then a tunneling converter to channel whatever magic that got shot into the barrel of the cannon. 

It went against protocol to crawl down the business end of a cannon, but  Kairos wanted to be sure everything was lined up right. She thought she was being smart by blocking the firing mechanism. Her tail whipped around with excitement, and she could just barely hear Airen's laughter from the outside of the cannon. She probably looked ridiculous, with her rump sticking out of the cannon, her big hind feet holding the rim securely as she worked face first inside the huge gun. She tightened the last screw in place, giving it an ol' iron legion tap. Feeling satisfied with the converter in place, she placed the wrench in her jaws to use both hands to help wriggle herself out. 

Kairos heard a high pitched whine.

Kairos heard an Airen pitched cry.

Kairos didn't hear anything.

[/time skip]

Kairos heard whispers.

Kairos heard faint music.

Kairos heard her name.

"Kairos..." a voice whispered.

"Kairos." a voice spoke.

"KAIROS." a voice shouted.

She shot up, opened her eyes, and immediately closed them with regret. There was nothing around her, yet also everything. She wasn't sitting, or laying down, or standing. She couldn't feel anything, yet she felt so much. She hurt, she felt tired and rested, hungry and full, thirsty and parched. She felt satisfied, and yet so so uncomfortable.

"Kairos." a voice spoke.

She shook her head. Kairos. That's her name. 

"You do not belong here." the voice spoke. 

It was gentle, motherly. It was firm, commanding, motherly.

"Go back home." the voice spoke. 

It was kind, like a mother. It was cold and demanding, like it was not her mother. It crackled, like mothers are prone to do.

Were mothers prone to crackling?

"Go." the voice spoke.

It was gentle, like a crackle. It was mother, like a demand. It was gone, and Kairos went as well.

[/time skip]

Kairos heard footsteps approach her. 

"What the h- what are you doing here? This is a restricted area," A voice, a charr voice, called out to her. It was angry, concerned, confused.

So was she.

Kairos ached, but she sprung up. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before opening her eyes. It did not hurt. She saw the workspace, empty. She saw a charr moving towards her, not empty. He had a weapon. Drawn.

"What time is it?" Kairos asked, eyes wide. She was supposed to be working. Did she pass out? She couldn't remember what she was supposed to be working on. Was she supposed to go home? That sounded familiar.

"It's ... uh, 4 pm?" The charr sounded confused. The charr. Kairos was charr, who was this charr? 

"4pm." Kairos repeated. That wasn't right, it was morning, she had just got to working. Or was it supposed to be night? She was supposed to go home...

"What are you doing here?" the charr asked her. He had lowered his weapons. He was not scared of her, he was confused of her. Confused by her. Was she confusing.

"I am not sure. I think I am supposed to go home?" Kairos asked him. Both felt as if they would much rather not be having this conversation. He stared blankly at her for a few seconds. 

"Who," he cleared his throat. "Who is your Legionnaire?" he asked her. Her Legionnaire? Her Legionnaire was not here. He had a fun sounding name, and she always knew when he was approaching because of his uneven walk. He had injured his foot. Some kind of fire magic.

"Legionnaire Burntstep." she replied. His eyes widened at her answer. 

"Are you," he seemed nervous now. "Are you Kairos?" Kairos. Yes.

"Yes, that's me," she answered with a slight nod. "And you are?"

"I need to take you to the tribune right now," he said, not answering her question. "Please, come with me." He hesitated for a second, then extended his hand towards hers. She took it instinctively. This situation felt odd to her, but she felt it best to follow the rules. He wanted to take her to the Tribune. Did her Legionnaire get in trouble? 

The two of them stood, hand in hand for a second. Neither seemed to know what to do next. The charr gave a little chuff of laughter. Kairos looked over at him, head tilted slightly in question.

"This is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me," he answered her silent question. "Call me Rend."

"Nice to meet you, Rend." Kairos answered, moving their held hands in a shake motion. "This is also the weirdest thing that's happened to me, although if I'm being honest, I don't really know what's happening."

"Oh. Yea, that makes sense," he said. They started walking. "I mean, you just sort of appeared. One second you weren't there, the next you were. I think it's insane, but well, you're the one doing the appearing." He chuckled again in disbelief. Some charr find it comforting to laugh in the face of discomfort, uncertainty, or even fear. He didn't seem scared of her. He seemed very confused. She felt similar.

"Yea, I supposed it makes sense." she laughed a little bit too. 

"Do you," he started. Rend cleared his throat, thinking his words carefully. "What do you remember?"

What did she remember?

"I remember..." she started. Thinking. "I remember I woke up, but I was tired. I don't think I slept well. I remember having to go to work. It was morning. I remember having big ideas, big plans, big thoughts. I remember hearing a friend. I remember being satisfied with my work. I remember... " she paused for a moment. "A voice. Telling me it was time to go home."

He didn't stop walking, but he stared at her in disbelief. "Damn dude." He didn't know what else to say. She didn't know what else to say. She shrugged.

"What do you remember?" Kairos asked him. 

"What do I?" he paused. "Well, I remember I woke up this morning, trained with my band until noon. I was assigned to guard this area for any suspicious activity this afternoon. I remember seeing nothing, I remember being bored, and I remember suddenly seeing you. Just there. Where you weren't a second before." He gave another pause. "And I remember the stories about Burntstep's 'band." Rend said the last bit in a whisper. But Kairos heard him. 

Stories of his 'band? Her warband? She was beginning to think something hokey had happened. She had a lot of questions.

"What kind of stories?" was what she chose to ask.

"The bad kind," he said. He swallowed uncomfortably. His palm pad was starting to get sweaty in her grip. They were almost to the Tribune's quarters. She felt like she was going to get in trouble. She did something wrong, and she was going to be punished. The thought traveled down her spine in a shiver, and she felt herself begin to sweat. 

[/time skip]

Kairos was in trouble. 

Well, more officially Legionnaire Burntstep was in trouble. He was accused of plagiarism, among other things. Apparently he did not get the blueprints through official means. He got his title stripped. He was no longer around. Kairos could not get a clear answer of if he was like, dead, but it was not something people were willing to talk to her about.

Her warband was in trouble. Cordelia, Tenrad, and Shiv were accused of complacency. They assisted in a project that they knew was not permitted. They were allowed to go their own way. Kairos heard Shiv had found himself a new warband, one that fit his skillset better. Kairos also heard that Cordelia had joined with the Sentinels. She also heard one whisper, presumably one she was not supposed to hear, about Cordelia's death. Cordelia had died the way she had lived: hissing and spitting in the face of danger. Dragon minions are just a bit more dangerous than experimental weaponry. Kairos heard Tenrad had joined the Durmund Priory, and was stuffing his nose in old OLD blueprints now. 

Her warband was in trouble. The other members changed their name, appointed a new Legionnaire, and washed their hands of the ordeal. They had to serve scrapper duty for two weeks, and have since moved on.

Her friend was in trouble. Airen Heavystep was accused of the murder of her bandmate, Kairos. She heard Airen was distraught. She heard Airen was in tears. She heard the rest of the 'band vouched for Airen; She and Kairos were best buds, Airen would never do such a thing. She heard that Airen was stripped of her rank. Stripped of the dignity of calling herself a charr. She heard that Airen worked at the docks in Lion's Arch, with a heavy heart. 

Kairos was in trouble. She was accused of being murdered. And yet, here she was. Not. Like, not dead. At least not anymore. Her 'death' was roughly three years ago. 

She felt a little bit ashamed. Like, what kind of charr was she, couldn't even stay dead. She also felt a little bit proud. Like, she was the kind of charr that could just say 'no thanks!' to death. Obviously she didn't want to push her luck and try it a second time, but the thought was nice. She also felt a little bit tired. She was given scrapper duty. A bit of a harsh punishment for being murdered, but she felt she owed it to her old band to do at least the same amount of time they did. She only had to work for a month. Then she thought she might try to find a new band. Maybe visit Airen way over in Lion's arch. Maybe not, it might scare her poor old friend out of her skin. 

And so she scrapped. And listened. She never knew how full the scrapyards were. Voices, everywhere. Some she could barely hear. Some quite loud, but making no sense to her. Like a different language. Sometimes she stood still and would just listen. Sometimes she would lose track of time, listening. Sometimes a firm, motherly voice would crackle at her. A command. 

"Kairos."

She got back to work.

[starry-moonshine]

Hii!! May I ask a ziggy berman x fem!reader smut which is the part 2 of “ I’m on fire “ but then gets caught by sheila then sheila goes all homophobic and stuff, Thanks !!

Hi, love! Thank you for requesting this. It was fun writing this.

I wrote this while in school 😐😬

-

I'm On Fire (pt.2) - Ziggy Berman

Pairing: Ziggy Berman x Fem!Reader (featuring Shelia)

Requested: yes

Warnings: SMUT, minors DNI, thigh riding, fingering, scissoring, oral (f both receiving), getting caught in the act, homophobia, swearing, and crude hand gestures

Word Count: 963

Summary: Being the teens you are, you and Ziggy decide to spend some alone time together underneath the hanging tree until Sheila catches you two in the act.

Sadie Sink Masterlist

While you help clean up the dock around the lake, you feel someone behind you, snaking their arms around your waist. The hug startles you as you look behind your shoulder, seeing your girlfriend hugging you.

"Hi, Ziggy."

"Please, can we go to my cabin?"

"Ziggy, I am helping Cindy and Tommy clean the deck from the campers swimming."

"I know, but you're not a camp counselor. Please," She begs.

"Fine, let's go."

Ziggy pulls you towards her, you follow her into the woods and over to a secluded area also known as Sarah Feir's hanging tree. The tree gave you weird vibes ever since you came to Nightwing, but ignore it when you feel Ziggy's lips against yours.

You feel yourself weaken in the knees as your girlfriend deepens the kiss, pinning you against the tree. The bark pokes at your back, causing you to slightly groan as it turns on Ziggy.

“Wait.”

“What?” She asks, brows furrowed.

You pull your top over your head, dropping it on the ground beside you both. Your bare chest is bare as Ziggy begins playing with your exposed nipples. In the meantime, you begin to feel weak as you release a breathy moan as Ziggy presses her lips against yours.

She pulls away from you as she lowers her hands down to your shorts, unbuttoning them and sliding her hand in your pantries lightly nipping at your clit with her finger tips. You grab Ziggy’s arm, looking her in the eyes.

You grab Ziggy’s hand, removing it from your panties and pushes her, turning around and pinning her against the bark, stripping Ziggy from her clothes. You finish undressing yourself, now completely bare, laying Ziggy down as you position yourself on top of her. She swings her leg over your hip as your clits touch each other. You begin bucking your hips against hers as Ziggy moves against you, moaning loudly. You go harder making it difficult to keep the moans and pants in as you both feel close. Ziggy bucks her hips faster against you, clits brushing against on another causing you to hit your high, riding it out as your girlfriend does the same. You fall beside her, pnating as Ziggy chuckles before sitting up, kissing your neck.

She begins to kiss the sensitive skin, sucking on it lightly as she marks your skin. Ziggy was a bit possessive when it came to you, so she wanted everyone to know who you belonged to. She leads a trail of kisses down to your collar bones, kissing every inch of your chest. She lightly flicks her tongue against your nipple, causing you to breath heavily.

“Ziggy~” You breath out, holding your hands up to your mouth.

Ziggy grabs your hands and puts them above your head. She uses her free hand to insert her middle and ring finger inside your wet cunt. Thrusting in and out a bit faster every few seconds.

Soon you hit your high quite fast, causing your hips and thighs shake a bit. Ziggy smirks at you before she pulls her fingers out of your wet entrance, licking your juices off her fingers. She lowers herself in front of your entrance, using her hands and holding your legs open. Spreading them so Ziggy can deep inside you with her fingers.

She begins with lightly licks and sucks against your clit before inserting her fingers in you again, but this time she makes things a bit more difficult.

“Oh, my god! Oh shit.” You say quietly.

You squirm under her touch, kissing your clit and giving light licks too. She sucks on it as you, who is under her, becomes to overwhelmed by the pleasure that your body gives in and shakes like crazy. Before you can even hit your high, you rise up and tackle Ziggy to the ground doing the same gestures to her that she did to you. You kiss her, finger her and give her oral, pleasuring her as she reaches down and rubs your clit causing you to come. Your juices drip on Ziggy as you continue on at the same time you ride out your orgasm.

When she’s near, you hear rustling in the wooded area around you but ignore and focus on your girlfriend. Before Ziggy could ride out her high, you and her watch as Sheila catches you both.

“Holy shit,” she shouts, covering her eyes.

“Fuck!”

You and Ziggy grab your clothes, throwing them on and trying to escape but Sheila stops you both.

“Wow, two dykes fucking. Holy shit, you know what they do to people who are homos.”

“We—” You begin before getting cut off by your girlfriend, Ziggy.

“Fuck off, Sheila. Who gives a shit. The only person who cares this much about homos fucking is you. Maybe you’re the homo, Sheila. Is that why you’re always on our asses?”

“No, I— I’m not into that bullshit. It’s gross,” She spills.

Sheila continues to scold you both as Ziggy hold up her hands, outstretching her middle finger and pointing it towards the brunette bully.

“Oh no, hope you don’t vomit.” You laugh.

“Ugh,”

Ziggy keeps a serious expression Sheila runs away, back to camp. She is probably gonna tell someone but they won’t believe her anyway. You and Ziggy look at each other.

“What a bitch she is.”

“Yeah,” Ziggy agrees before grabbing your hips and uses her fingers grab your belt loops, pulling you closer.

She brings your lips to hers, feeling the warm feeling coming back before you break away from each other. She drags you back to camp and into her cabin, finishing what both started. You both fall into the pleasure once more, enjoying each other’s company before it’s time to gather for group activities.

[starlight-scorpion]

With all this sexyman descendant stuff going on would anyone wanna see my discord/fluttershy fankid? Xyr an adult in the story I’m writing about fem and feir friends but what if in xyr backstory they went to sexyman high school udjsjsusjsj

[a-series-of-whumpy-events]

I do not remember what the actual title of this piece was originally, so it’s gotten a relaunch. I also need to point out again that the story told in here is not original- it’s an Irish legend that has about fifty different versions. I simply rewrote the story in my own words. This piece serves as a direct sequel to Feiring, and is part of the same arc.

Warnings: this piece is nothing but fluffy!

Taglist: @rat-father @whump-it @whump-me-all-night-long @tears-and-lilies @cupcakes-and-pain @hearse-song @sola-whumping @caspia-writes @cursedandtired @oswaldinator3000

Thrall: Eventyr

It was Ilka who started the whole thing. After the evening meal she threw open the longhouse door and bellowed to anyone within range to finish their work quickly and come inside. Devin helped her make a small fire at the side of the near-empty longhouse. Ilka’s eyes gleamed as she handed out bowls of fish soup to the people making their way in from the cold.

Everything was different with most of the men gone on the raid. The Viking women and children, and what few men still remained, left the slaves to their own business in the evenings. After a fight had broken out three nights before, Ilka had taken matters into her own hands and loudly declared that she wouldn’t stand for any more arguing. “It’s not often we get this kind of freedom,” she said. “We’ll not be wasting it brawling.”

And so she had come up with this. Each night she made a fire and a hot meal, and everyone sat around it and told stories. Sometimes they were ones Devin had heard in Ireland, other times they made Ilka sigh as she remembered them from Scotland. A few stories were from other places even farther away. Devin enjoyed every single one.

“Is that everyone inside?” Ilka said. “All right, then.” She leaned down and picked up a flat, round stone, tossing it up and down in her hand. “Who’s to be our storyteller tonight, then? Come on, out with it, someone.”

Devin looked around the circle, waiting for someone to speak up. Ilka shrugged and gave the stone a toss.

It landed at Devin’s feet.

“Ah! Found him.” Ilka grinned fiendishly at him. “How’s about a story from you, laddie?”

“Ilka, I-I don’t think-“ Devin began.

“Just toss it back if you don’t want to. But I’d like to hear you give it a go.” Ilka’s mischievous grin turned into an encouraging smile. “There’s none here who’ll laugh if you don’t sound as good as the skalds. Why, we could barely understand Pavel last evening and he came out all right.” She gestured to a mountainous Russian man on the other side of the circle, who grinned back at her and said something in such a thick accent Devin couldn’t puzzle out what it was. Ilka seemed to know, though- she cackled and slapped the big man on the shoulder.

It was that which decided it for Devin. Ilka was always cheerful and bold as brass. But something had changed about her, too. She was more open, more relaxed, less focused on her work. Her brogue had thickened a little, and she seemed…happier. Even for Ilka.

I’m not the only one who’s doing better with Mikkel gone.

Devin took a deep breath and turned the stone over, rubbing it over his palm and trying to remember how the storytellers he had heard began their tales. He looked up, a slight smile on his face, and addressed the whole circle.

“Have you heard the story of Conal, Donal, and Taig?”

No one had. Ilka smiled proudly at him, and so Devin leaned forward into the firelight and began to tell the story.

———————————————————————

“In the old times, long ago, there lived three brothers called Conal, Donal, and Taig. And these three had an argument over which of them owned a certain field. They each had just the same claim to the field as the others, and so no judge they went to could decide who ought to have the field. So finally they went to a judge who was very wise and famous, and they laid their case before him.

“Give me a night and a day,” said the judge, “and I’ll think it over and decide. Sure, if this isn’t one of the hardest cases I’ve ever heard!” The brothers agreed, and so the judge thought it over for a night and a day, and then called the brothers back.

“I’ve weighed the evidence through and through,” said the judge, “and deliberated every side as much as I can deliberate it. Sure as I live, lads, there’s no one of you that has any more claim to that field than the others. It’s the greatest puzzle I’ve ever puzzled over. But”- and he drew himself up tall and pushed out his chest and made himself look as wise as he knew how- “no puzzle puzzles me for long. I’ll soon decide who gets the field. Now, the three of you look to me like lazy fellows, who wouldn’t plow that field if you got it. So whichever one of you is the laziest shall have the field.”

“Then the field is mine,” said Conal. “I’m the laziest man of us by far. Why, I’m so lazy that if I were lying in the middle of the road, and a hunting party came galloping down it, I’d lie there and let them ride over me before I’d move.”

“That’s lazy indeed,” said the judge, “and I’m not sure Donal and Taig can be as lazy as that.”

“Not so!” said Donal. “For I’m every bit as lazy! Why, I’m so lazy that if I were sitting right by a bonfire, and you piled all the peat in the county and all the wood in the forest on it, I’d sit there and let myself burn black before I’d move.”

“Faith,” said the judge, “you’re a lazy man indeed, and I’m afraid poor Taig hasn’t got a chance.”

“Give me my turn,” said Taig, “for I’m as lazy as my brothers. Why, I’m so lazy that if I were lying in the grass of the meadow, and the rain came pouring down, I’d sit there and let it soak me to the skin before I’d move.”

“Well,” said the judge, “it seems clear to me that all three of you are as lazy as lazy can be, and which one is the laziest I can’t say. But here’s another go- whichever one of you is the oldest shall have the field.”

“Then the field is mine,” said Conal. “I’m the oldest man of us by far. Why, I’m so old that when I was twenty-one I got a load of awls from the market, and never lost nor broke one of them, and the last of them wore out yesterday while I was mending my shoes.”

“That’s old indeed,” said the judge, “and I’m not sure Donal and Taig can be as old as that.”

“Not so!” said Donal. “For I’m every bit as old! Why, I’m so old that when I was twenty-one I got a load of needles from the market, and never lost nor broke one of them, and the last of them wore out yesterday while I was mending my clothes.”

“Faith,” said the judge, “you’re an old man indeed, and I’m afraid poor Taig hasn’t got a chance.”

“Give me my turn,” said Taig, “for I’m as old as my brothers. Why, I’m so old that when I was twenty-one I got a load of knives from the market, and never lost nor broke one of them, and the last of them wore out yesterday while I was shaving my chin.”

“Well,” said the judge, “it seems clear to me that all three of you are as old as old can be, and which one is the oldest I can’t say. But here’s another go- whichever one of you has the keenest sight shall have the field.”

“Then the field is mine,” said Conal. “I’m the keenest-sighted man of us by far. Why, I’m so keen of sight that if there were a fly perched on a mountain ten miles away, I could tell you each time he blinked.”

“That’s keen of sight indeed,” said the judge, “and I’m not sure Donal and Taig can be as keen of sight as that.”

“Not so!” said Donal. “For I’m every bit as keen of sight! Why, I’m so keen of sight that if there were a fly perched on a mountain ten miles away, I could tell you whether there was a speck in his eye that made him blink.”

“Faith,” said the judge, “you’re keen of sight indeed, and I’m afraid poor Taig hasn’t got a chance.”

“Give me my chance,” said Taig, “for I’m as keen of sight as my brothers. Why, I’m so keen of sight that if there were a fly perched on a mountain ten miles away, I could tell you whether or not he was in good health by counting his heartbeats.”

“Well,” said the judge, “it seems clear to me that all three of you are as keen of sight as keen can be, and which one is the keenest of sight I can’t say. But here’s another go, and if this doesn’t decide I’ll have to give the case up- whichever one of you is the cleverest shall have the field.”

“Then the field is mine,” said Conal. “I’m the cleverest man of us by far. Why, I’m so clever that I could make a shirt for a man that would fit him perfectly if I only heard the color of his hair.”

“That’s clever indeed,” said the judge, “and I’m not sure Donal and Taig can be as clever as that.”

“Not so!” said Donal. “For I’m every bit as clever! Why, I’m so clever that I could make a shirt for a man that would fit him perfectly if I only heard him cough.”

“Faith,” said the judge, “you’re a clever man indeed, and I’m afraid poor Taig hasn’t got a chance.”

“Give me my chance,” said Taig, “for I’m as clever as my brothers. Why, I’m so clever that if I were a judge, and too stupid to decide a case I heard, I’d look wise and come to some decision.”

“Taig,” said the judge, “I’ve decided that the field is yours.”

———————————————————————

The circle burst into gales of laughter. Devin grinned and sat back, tossing the stone back to Ilka.

“That was wonderful, Devin!”

“Good job with that one, lad!”

“I always said we Irish were the best with the stories.”

Devin felt his cheeks grow hot at the praise. Luckily, the last comment drew protests from the slaves who weren’t Irish. Ilka threw the stone to a muscular Scottish woman and challenged her to do better, and the focus was whisked off of Devin and onto a new story.

After they were finished, however, Ilka came up to him, wrapping her arm over his shoulder. “You’ve got a good voice for a storyteller, laddie,” she said quietly.

“Ilka-“

“I’m not fooling. When you started telling the tale, it was like magic. Your accent got thick, your voice got a wee bit deeper, and your words- they all sort of started rolling together. I couldna help but listen. It’s not the way you usually sound, Devin, and it was wonderful.”

Devin could feel the heat on his face. “I just mimicked all the storytellers I’ve heard.”

Ilka laughed, long and hearty, and shook her head. “No, that’s not it, I think. Maybe somewhat of that was borrowed from your Irish bards. But I think there was a little of Devin O’Cailleagh in there, too.”

———————————————————————

Read the previous part here!

Read the next part here!