#fens fables

[spid3r-trans]

nothing scarier than activity on an old post.....where did u find that thang

[ink-stains-and-constellations]

Pronouns List

Instead of having all my pronouns in the description/bio thingy, I decided to just make a post about it. I will usually use different sets for myself (my preferred sets change depending on the day), but use whichever pronouns you want for me from this list.

Also, I'm always looking for new neopronouns, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to tell me!

She/her/her/hers/herself Example: Inky went out by herself to see that friend of hers. She is probably on her way there right now. She forgot her phone - how typical of her.

Fae/faer/faer/faers/faerself Example: Inky went out by faerself to see that friend of faers. Fae is probably on faer way there right now. Fae forgot faer phone - how typical of faer.

Ink/ink/inks/inks/inkself Example: Inky went out by inkself to see that friend of inks. Ink is probably on inks way there right now. Ink forgot inks phone - how typical of ink.

Art/art/arts/arts/artself Example: Inky went out by artself to see that friend of arts. Art is probably on arts way there right now. Art forgot arts phone - how typical of art.

Star/star/stars/stars/starself Example: Inky went out by starself to see that friend of stars. Star is probably on stars way there right now. Star forgot stars phone - how typical of star.

Myth/myth/myths/myths/mythself Example: Inky went out by mythself to see that friend of myths. Myth is probably on myths way there right now. Myth forgot myths phone - how typical of myth.

Lore/lore/lores/lores/loreself Example: Inky went out by loreself to see that friend of lores. Lore is probably on lores way there right now. Lore forgot lores phone - how typical of lore.

Lyr/lyric/lyrics/lyrics/lyricself Example: Inky went out by lyricself to see that friend of lyrics. Lyr is probably on lyrics way there right now. Lyr forgot lyrics phone - how typical of lyric.

Paint/paint/paints/paints/paintself Example: Inky went out by paintself to see that friend of paints. Paint is probably on paints way there right now. Paint forgot paints phone - how typical of paint.

Rai/rain/rains/rains/rainself Example: Inky went out by rainself to see that friend of rains. Rai is probably on rains way there right now. Rai forgot rains phone - how typical of rain.

Coff/coffee/coffees/coffees/coffeeself Example: Inky went out by coffeeself to see that friend of coffees. Coff is probably on coffees way there right now. Coff forgot coffees phone - how typical of coffee.

Ast/aster/asters/asters/asterself (as in, the Latin word for 'star') Example: Inky went out by asterself to see that friend of asters. Ast is probably on asters way there right now. Ast forgot asters phone - how typical of aster.

Quill/quill/quills/quills/quillself Example: Inky went out by quillself to see that friend of quills. Quill is probably on quills way there right now. Quill forgot quills phone - how typical of quill.

Wish/wish/wishes/wishes/wishself Example: Inky went out by wishself to see that friend of wishes. Wish is probably on wishes way there right now. Wish forgot wishes phone - how typical of wish.

Lune/lunar/lunars/lunars/lunarself Example: Inky went out by lunarself to see that friend of lunars. Lune is probably on lunars way there right now. Lune forgot lunars phone - how typical of lunar.

Ae/aer/aer/aers/aerself Example: Inky went out by aerself to see that friend of aers. Ae is probably on aer way there right now. Ae forgot aer phone - how typical of aer.

Kie/kier/kier/kiers/kierself Example: Inky went out by kierself to see that friend of kiers. Kie is probably on kier way there right now. Kie forgot kier phone - how typical of kier.

Cherry/blossom/cherrys/blossoms/blossomself Example: Inky went out by blossomself to see that friend of blossoms. Cherry is probably on cherrys way there right now. Cherry forgot cherrys phone - how typical of blossom.

Fay/fable/fables/fables/fableself Example: Inky went out by fableself to see that friend of fables. Fay is probably on fables way there right now. Fay forgot fables phone - how typical of fable.

Kit/kitsune/kitsunes/kitsunes/kitsuneself Example: Inky went out by kitsuneself to see that friend of kitsunes. Kit is probably on kitsunes way there right now. Kit forgot kitsunes phone - how typical of kitsune.

Dae/daem/daer/daers/daemself Example: Inky went out by daemself to see that friend of daers. Dae is probably on daer way there right now. Dae forgot daer phone - how typical of daem.

Nyct/nyct/nycts/nycts/nyctself Example: Inky went out by nyctself to see that friend of nycts. Nyct is probably on nycts way there right now. Nyct forgot nycts phone - how typical of nyct.

Fey/fen/feyr/feyrs/feyrself (this one can also use fem instead of fen) Example: Inky went out by feyrself to see that friend of feyrs. Fey is probably on feyr way there right now. Fey forgot feyr phone - how typical of fen.

[d1sc0-1nfern0]

Caspian drives an old beat up pickup truck.

Aax drives a motorcycle.

Centross drives a new pickup and also a motorcycle.

Fenris drives a sports car and a motorcycle. (The 1% babyyy)

Rae drives a minivan (a classic soccer mom minivan).

Ocie drives a minivan and a motorcycle.

Momboo drives either a minivan, a convertible, or an Electric car.

Easton drives an illegally modified street racer car (pre-blindness).

Arisanna drives a convertible.

Will does not drive.

Ulysses drives an old shoddy pickup that’s always just a couple miles from breaking down. He can also drive a semi if he needs to.

Jerry used to drive a truck but it broke down. Now he drives Ocie’s minivan.

Fable drives a Tesla.

Icarus also drives a Tesla (one of their dad’s cars).

Ven drives a moped. Or a bicycle. (And Fable’s golf cart.)

Easton, Centross, and Icarus all used participate in illegal street racing.

Aax, Centross, Fenris, and Ocie all go on motorcycle rides together on Sunday afternoons when the weather’s nice. Rae and Caspian ride with Fenris and Aax when they join. Occasionally they’ll drag Ari along and she’ll ride with Fen or Ocie.

[saradika]

— the knight and her lady

knight!fennec shand x princess!reader

rated E - 3.7k

prompts - “can I kiss you?” & fairytale au

tags: medieval/fairytale au, soft sapphic romance, use of weapons in a competition, power dynamic (princess & knight), forbidden love, soft!dom Fen & inexperienced reader, kissing, fingering, implied squirting, oral sex

written for @flightlessangelwings’s Pride Challenge!

You shouldn’t know how to take her apart. It’s not proper, not at your station. If anyone found out, rumors would spread like wildfire. You’d surely be sent home - separated from her.

But your fingers move easily - plucking at buckles and straps. Piece by piece, as fluidly as she had put you together this morning.

(Or - You steal away to your knight, to celebrate a spectacularly-won archery tournament.)

You supposed you should be paying more attention to your host - but you can’t tear your eyes away from the knight in front of you.

The sun glinting off her forge-blackened armor, her movements still fluid even with the extra weight of the steel. Joining the long row of competitions, an ornate longbow slung across her back.

It’s been a long day. A good day - the tournament bringing in visitors for miles. Filling the wooden seats and air with laughter and music. With roasting meat and summery, fruity mead.

But still, you watch.

Fingers clasped, pressed on a knee that bounces with anticipation.

You don’t think he minds. The singularity of your attention, content to sit in near-silence next to you. A month ago you would’ve been ashamed at yourself - ignoring the King like this - but at the moment, you can’t bring yourself to care.

If he had minded, you think that he wouldn’t have taken the flower you had clutched so tightly to your chest. Plucked from the woven crown of greenery and flora around your head, handmade for today.

Telling you he’d “get this where it needed to go” in those few moments before the first event began.

It’s the last event of the afternoon, now - the morning filled with rounds of jousting, the clash of hand-to-hand combat.

You had worried she’d entered both - had felt the butterflies in your stomach when the quiet, silver knight she was seen with so often with took to the field.

But he had been alone. And had been victorious, in the end. A flurry of black slashes with his sword had seen to that.

Part of you wondered if she had attended, if that still would have been true.

The shrill sound of a whistle cuts through the air, as the participants line up. The wave of a green and gold banner as the first arrows fly.

There's the loosening of strings - arrowing flying in arcs towards the target mounds, with their painted red centers. Several falling short, the feathers quivering in the wind, most piercing through cloth and earth within the neat rings.

Scores called out as competitors are eliminated, the judges marking notes down on their scrolls. Those removed make their way to the border, to call out and heckle their friends with the rest of the crowd.

Ser Shand remains for this round, and then the next.

You watch with bated breath as her fingers crook around the string as each round passes. Thinking about last night and the ones before.

A slow, building boldness of wandering mouth and fingers. Stroking over silk and steel, soft sounds swallowed by the night.

Each release sends an arrow flying neatly down the field, landing in the red middle circle again and again. Again and again, until there were only two competitors left on the field.

The suspense was palpable, that teasing chatter dwindling down to nothing. The fabled ‘assassin-turned-knight’ competing with the up-and-coming Lord Calican - this would-be duel that would be spoken about for weeks after.

You had utmost faith in your knight, but you couldn't help the worry as the wind rustled your skirts, tugged at your crown of flowers. Fingers reaching up to pull it down a little tighter, just as the flag waves again.

The crowd holds their breath.

They fire at the same time.

There's an uproar, as the arrows hit. The judges racing to look, Lord Calican turning on Ser Shand. A pointing finger at the mounds, down at her feet. Even from here you can see the arch of her brow, rising in disbelief.

You don't even notice the way your hand drifted down, curling in the soft green velvet of the King's sleeve. Only when his gloved hand comes down to pat against yours, do you realize - letting go quickly and sheepishly.

The small smile he sends your way is kind. As is his answer, as he replies to the advisor next to him - asking if he should step in.

"My knight is not so easily bested." The King boasts, with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Here, just watch."

You can just make out the argument. It's clear that her arrow flew straight and true, hitting dead center. His off, just a hair lower on his own target.

Rounding on her to claim that she had taken a step closer while firing - had been out of bounds.

There's a knowing and condescending smile, as he turns red in the face with argumentative anger. Leaving him mid-rant to move a handful of meters back. Close to the edge of the field, before she stops.

Turning - taking barely a second to fit an arrow, aim, and fire.

It flies down the field in silence.

Striking where her first had landed, splintering it down the middle.

The crowd explodes. Shouting and cheering as they all decide the winner on their own. Your voice joins theirs as you find yourself leaping to your feet, leaning against the tall rail in front of you.

Excitement and joy and something else, something honey-sweet swirls in your stomach. Your heart thudding in your chest as you see her turn - finding your eyes in the crowd.

The small smile and wink sent your way.

Striking her target, one last time.

You sneak into the tents, after.

Scattered across the open field, gathered around small campfires. It would be easier to travel back the mile or so into the city, but it was a long-held tradition to stay on the grounds the night before a tournament.

Easier to group up, to celebrate. Less mess to clean when playful song and teasing turned into drunken brawls between sore-losing, mead-filled competitors.

Lifting the crimson flap of the tent emblazoned with her symbol. Large for its size - a nest of pillows and a bedroll tucked off to the side, upon the thick carpet of grass. A wide bench on the far wall, one edge littered with fletching supplies. Two chairs and a sturdy table standing on a coarsely-woven rug.

She's there - still clad in that dark armor. Plucking the archery gloves from her fingers in a way that has your eyes dropping down to her hands again. Watching as they appear from behind the leather, as you hover just inside.

Lingering, until her eyes are lifting. A smile coming then, a flash of pretty teeth between the curve of her lips.

You go to her, letting the flap fall behind you. The tent well-light in the afternoon sun, filtering in pretty shades of red and gold.

“You were incredible.” You tell her, almost shyly. The way you had been watching had felt almost vouyeristic, but maybe that was just the winding of your thoughts, the slow sweep of your eyes.

“I could not lose, with your favor.” Fennec’s fingers work at her armor. Loosening her chestplate enough to dip inside, draw out the rose from where it nestled between her breasts.

Plucked so carefully from your woven crown, the color tipping from pink towards purple. It spins between her fingertips, the hidden meaning not at all lost on her.

“You know…” Her head tilts, then - with the sly curl of a smile, “In some tournaments, the victor is awarded a prize.”

It still stuns you, even though she gives them to you freely.

But you’re familiar with the customs. A favor bestowed, a bag of coin awarded.

“What would you ask for?” You question with a little furrow of your brow - taking those few steps, until you’re reaching the edge of the rug.

“Perhaps a kiss from a fair maiden?” She taps her chin thoughtfully, though her eyes never leave your face. Asking it like a question, though you’re sure she’s been planning this.

Sending up a flutter in your stomach, your heart kicking up a beat.

“Is that all you desire?” You own question comes out breathless, as she steps closer.

Her smile is enigmatic - her rose set down carefully on the table. Your tongue peeking out to wet your lips, eyes dropping to the pretty curve of hers.

Your eyes start to drift shut, the anticipation curling sweetly in your stomach.

But it doesn’t come - the press of her lips. The swipe of a tongue. Instead, there’s the pressure of her fingers ghosting against your hips, her voice in your ear.

“Mm. I didn’t say where, sweetness.”

Her voice is low, throaty. It sends a little shiver up your spine, as her innuendo sinks in. It had your eyes opening, surprise lingering in the pretty part of your lips.

“Your face,” She laughs, but not unkindly. “You are too sweet, little bird.”

Her touch lifts then, fingers catching your chin and tilting it towards her face.

Lips pressing against your cheek, feather-light. Then your jaw, the soft spot under your ear as you melt against her.

“Can I kiss you, princess?” She husks, “Would you let me take what is mine?”

In your head, you answer. An eager affirmative that comes out as a soft whine, instead. Another low, rasping laugh before her mouth is pressing to yours, finally giving you what you need.

Your fingers clench around steel, the heavy leather of her belt. She swallows your sigh, a soft curl of her lips in a hidden smile before she’s tasting you, licking into your mouth.

There had been shock, before - you won’t deny that. Heat rising to your cheeks at her words, so very public.

She loved your sweetness, the arch of your brows, the little intake of air. So very different than the rough and tumble of the other knights and soldiers.

But it didn’t mean you didn’t know. That you didn’t want.

A little fire that you’ve kindled in your belly, all day. The spark starting as she snuck up from the field to find you that morning - fingers brushing over your waist, the curves of your breasts as she helped you lace up the back of your dress.

“Such a pretty thing,” She had cooed, smoothing down the layers of fabric, the spray of stars embroidered across your skirts.

You had thought she meant the dress - until you caught her gaze in the mirror you were facing.

It was a pretty sight - her arms around you. You were sure your thoughts had reflected hers, in that moment.

How easy it would be to slip a hand beneath your skirts - to loosen the laces of your chemise. A thrill has thrummed in your veins, until a knock had sounded at the heavy wooden door.

Mourning the proximity, as she had stepped away.

It makes you want to take her little tease, twist it into something tangible. Pulling back from the warm press of her mouth to murmur a question against her neck.

“Can I kiss you, too?” Your lips brush her neck, that sliver of skin above the cold iron of her gorget.

You can feel the hum of her laugh, as her chin tips up to give you more room, “I’d say you are, princess.”

The way she sighs the title makes you not despise it. No simpering in her tone, nothing to remind you of your duties and promises that you want nothing more than to break.

It has your mouth moving. Pressing kisses to her armor, leaving the ghost of your breath against the cold, dark iron.

A hitch in her breath as you begin to lower yourself, reaching the curve were the metal is shaped at her chest. Gathering your skirts in one hand as you reach the bottom of her cuirass.

Her fingers are twisted in the fabric at your shoulders - eyes dark when you glance up. Unable to resist the pull of you on your knees for her, out in this field, stolen away in her tent.

A second, as she blinks - coming back to herself.

“Your dress, little bird-” She protests, knowing how much you had been looking forward to wearing it.

It feels like nothing now. Not even wrinkles or the threat of dirt could sway you.

Your face tips up as the want reflects in your own eyes, “Please. I want to. I’ve thought about it, I-”

You’ve dreamed about it. Tasting her more than just the slip of your fingers against your tongue. Not doing so before because she’s never asked, and you’ve been too shy to.

Wondering if it would be something she’d want - not knowing how to navigate this path with someone who’s bound to you in such a way that made desire and duty so confusing.

Your words are enough. A sharp exhale of breath as she takes a step backwards, the spread of her thighs as she lowers herself to that wooden bench.

It takes no time for you to fit between them. A small glance over your shoulder to make sure the tent flap is closed, before your fingers are slipping beneath her armor.

“I’ll keep watch, sweetness.” She husks, leaning back to let you work, “Don’t you worry.”

You shouldn’t know how to take her apart. It’s not proper, not at your station. If anyone found out, rumors would spread like wildfire. You’d surely be sent home - separated from her.

But your fingers move easily - plucking at buckles and straps. Piece by piece, as fluidly as she had put you together this morning.

Revealing the dyed linen of her surcoat - black and edged with red embroidery. Her cuirass set gently against the edge of the bench as her hips raise enough that you can tug down her trousers, letting them pool around her ankles.

She’s unashamed, thighs parted for you. Hands brace on the bench - watching you as your eyes drift down to where only your fingers have been, in the dark.

Thrilled at the way she glistens, that you did that yourself. Nerves and desire twisting and fluttering in your stomach like the fletching on the arrows, before.

Trying to thinking about when she’s kissed you, like this. How every touch and brush of her tongue brought pleasure you had never known. Thinking that you could do that, that you wanted to - for her.

She murmurs your name as you move. A soft kiss to her center, letting your tongue peek between your lips. Dragging against her slit, tasting the sweet tang of her cunt, unable to help groaning into her as your hand comes to wrap around her calf.

Getting more bold, with each of her shaky breaths. Listening and learning each little sound, determined to do well for her.

Finding the hard, sensitive bud beneath the dark curls - feeling the pinch of her fingers against your shoulder when your tongue flattens against it.

An eager shift forward, pressing yourself further against her. Eyes closing when a moan buzzes in her throat, hands brushing your cheeks, the hinge of your jaw. Closing around the crown, bruising the petals with the force of her fingers.

“Stars, sweet girl,” She sighs, a gentle buck of her hips as she urges you, “Look at you, on your knees. You look so pretty, you know that?”

It shoots through you, as you clench around nothing. Unable to help squirming as your fingers trace along her thigh, up and then up.

A look up when she’s silent, only to see the clench of her jaw as she holds her sounds back. Trying to keep quiet, in this open field.

Then you hear it, muffled behind a hand, as your finger sink in. This part you know - eyes closing again as your fingers crook and curl.

Her thighs closing sharply around your shoulders when your lips return to her, a soft suck against her clit.

Tightening around you as her hips start to move, as she tugs you against her. Unable to help the panting, groaning praise.

“Right there, gods - just like that. Yes, my love, yes-”

Your eyes open just in time to watch her fall apart. Tongue pressed against the pulse of her clit as she grips your fingers, coating them with her release.

A moan pulled from her throat, high before she catches it. Her chest heaving as your fingers ease from her when she relaxes, slipping into your mouth before your tongue dips inside her.

Tasting the salty musk of your triumph, thinking you understand in this moment the way she enjoys having you beneath her.

Knowing that you’ll never want to stop, now that you’ve had a taste.

Blinking up at her as she smiles, a small shake of her head.

“Just look at you, pretty girl.”

Her thumb swipes over the slick that’s smeared across your lips, your chin. Pressing it against your bottom lip until they part - cleaning her from her fingers.

Disheveled and eyes blown wide with lust, tasting like her as she stands - swiftly tugging up her trousers before her hand is tucking under your elbow.

Pulling you to your feet as you frown, before she’s whisking you over to her bedroll. Kissing you, her tongue delving into your mouth as she lowers you down onto the pile of pillows.

“Can’t wait to touch you, sweetness.” Her voice is syrupy smooth, low in your ear, “You get so wet from me looking just at you. I bet you are soaked from eating my cunt.”

It makes you tremble, a heat rising in your cheeks at her crude words. A little laugh as she does just like you had dreamed about before.

A hand tucks behind your head as she kisses you. Stroking your tongue as her fingers work at your bodice. Breaking the kiss, only to wrap her lips around a tight nipple, flicking her tongue against it.

Your moan is loud, wanton. Unable to hold yourself back, as she had. She shoot you a look of warning, shushes you before kissing across your chest.

Grateful for her touches, as your desire thuds between your thighs. Completely eclipsing that feeling from before, making it feel no more than a flutter.

Unable to compare to the way you need her, now.

There’s a sweet satisfaction that slices through you, when she dips beneath your smallclothes. The moan into your shoulder as she hovers over you, when she realizes just how right she was.

How the soft cotton is soaked through. How her fingers meet slick skin beneath, no resistance as she immediately sinks two fingers inside.

You gasp at the stretch, teeth biting down on a whine. Unable to see anything other than the bare curves of your breaths, your skirts piled high.

But she leans down to look, a soft purr to her voice, “Oh princess. My needy little thing.”

Telling you how pretty you look with her fingers in you, as her thumb presses against your clit. Your eyes fixed on the teeth that sink into her lip, as she tugs down the cotton to bare you fully.

Watching the shine of her fingers as they pump into you. You’d be embarrassed at how wet you are, how swiftly she builds you up and up, if you hadn’t been waiting for her touch for so long.

A soft cry when her mouth returns to your breasts, the ache as she makes a mark that will be hidden by your bodice. Something just for her - later, before she’s tasting herself on your tongue again.

Swallowing your gasps as you squirm, her fingers pounding and crooking against a place that steals your breath. Pinning you down with a thigh that straddles yours.

Her own soft growls as she sees you start to come undone - the glazed look in your eyes. Remembering how sweet and eager you were for her - wanting to return that feeling a million times over.

“Want to make you come, princess.” Her mouth is against your ear, as your hands fist in her surcoat, “Let me feel you, sweet thing.”

Fennec’s elbow presses into the bedroll as she leans over you. Her fingers keeping their pace as your vision grows hazy. Your senses filled with her and only her, as she presses kiss after kiss to your trembling lips.

Humming low in her throat as your fingers pinch harder into the cloth. A tiny, wrung-out gasp of her name, as something builds and builds - pushing you past a point you didn’t know you had.

And then, it snaps. Pleasure and relief pounds in your veins, the thud of your heart drowning out the sounds of your cries as she catches them with her mouth.

Her fingers unrelenting, dripping with you as she fucks you through the tight pulses of pleasure. Her palm slapping against slick skin as she draws it out, until your fingers untwine. Reaching down to catch her hand, unable to take it any longer.

Thoroughly worn out, overcome with your pleasure. Unable to do more than press a hand against your face as she leans over to look at the mess you made.

Another soft groan at her cat-like smile - fingers tracing against your damp thighs as she revels in this new discovery.

“Gods. I can’t wait to watch you do that again tonight.”

Kissing away your embarrassment, with soft encouragement peppered between each press of her lips. How it slowly fades as she wraps herself up with you, curled together on her bedroll.

Grateful for the way she had pulled your skirts up and out of the way - always looking out for you. Watching over you as you doze, the red and gold speckles of sunlight warm against your face.

It’s easy to forget then, about your worries. Wondering how this story between you would end. How this love that had blossomed between you could ever fully flourish in the sun.

Instead, it’s just a glorious day. An evening to bask in, and celebrate.

Staying sleepy and content until her name is called, and she’s throwing you a look - quickly helping you lace your bodice up. Smoothing down her own clothes while she steps outside.

Coming back with her arms laden with gifts - a sack of gold, a basket of fresh fruit. A heavy bottle of spotchka, tucked under her arm.

“My winnings,” She smiles, with a happy lilt to her voice, “And here I thought I’d already had them.”

You know that right now, your smile mirrors hers.

As she leans down to kiss you, once again.

purple roses can symbolize love at first sight! it can also mean adoration and fascination with someone (& used the term ser in a very ‘ser brienne of tarth’ sort of way)

and lastly - thank you Jey, for hosting this challenge! Such an awesome idea, I was excited for the chance to contribute a fic. 💖

[sparks-chaotic-cove]

The allays purposely distracting Ari so Ulysses can go back through the omniportal-

I know that technically the souls probably aren’t supposed to leave Elysium after they die, but also… I like to think Ulysses finds a way.

Like technically his closest friends are the ones who built the omniportal so there’s a chance he just like, bribes them or pleads really nicely to go back out or something lmao, but I also like to imagine that he just finds a way to sneak back into the mortal world and do storytelling shit sometimes-

Arisanna turning up and grabbing this old man by the scruff of his neck mid campfire story, and dragging him away from his audience like “okay grandpa time to get back in the afterlife dimension you can’t keep doing this”

​

[lovelbear]

《Headcanon time once again bullet point time》

♡ In s1/s2 Athena would have someone close to them peel their apples no reason behind it just now in s3 Jamie just does it.

♡ ulysses's will doodle randomly while writing in a book, mostly its just little doodles of flowers or animals

♡ when the sparks or the aura's get really excited they flicker a bit. On the opposite side of this they flicker when they get a bad feeling about something or are scared.

♡ recently ven has been finding himself weaving Fengari's favorite flowers together.

♡ Fable will just leave in the middle of the night and stare at the stars trying to count back all of the stories Isla once told him.

♡ when icurus was very young, Isla would take them and fable out to the garden on clear nights and just relax together.

♡ Isla took fable on his first picnic.

♡ Ulysses used to be able to carve drift wood However his hands shake too much to be able to do it.

♡ Fengari made ven a box to keep his things in and on the inside fen had engraved 'I'll love you until after my heart stops beating'

♡ Rae will start playing with his tail now when he gets overwhelmed or upset.

♡ Icurus keeps thinking about the last encounter they had with Rae, they want to go apologize to their brother but are afraid to do it.

♡ in Athena's coms everyone has a special emoji that Athena thinks is fitting for everyone.

《I drop and run 🌺💗》

[willtheweaver]

OC questionaire tag

Thanks for the tag @the-golden-comet

My questions are:

1. Would you rather live in the past or the future? How far back/forward?

2. Name three people you can trust your life with

3. Where would you like to go at the end of your journey?

Characters from A Feather in the Forest

1. Would you rather live in the past or the future? How dare you back/ forward?

Fen: A hundred years into the future. Maybe then enough time will have passed that I can openly declare myself. I’d also like to see what sorts of new technology that will be developed.

Playa: I’m guessing Fen told you he’d like to go a hundred years into the future, right? Thought so. I’d go in the opposite direction: a hundred years into the past. That was the Golden Age for the foxes, and I’d like to know what it was like.

2. Name three people you can trust your life with.

Fen: Only three? Alright, the three I trust the most are Playa, Rail, and Ivy.

Playa: My grandmother, my mother, and Fen.

3. Where would you like to go at the end of your journey?

Fen: I’ve always been curious as to what lies beyond the forest. Maybe some day I’ll be able to see the fabled salt sea for myself.

Playa: That’s a hard one. I’ve lived my whole life here in the forest. But I’m also curious as to what lies beyond. The legends and some of the old books hint at things…I’d like to see if what they say is true.

Tagging @glasshouses-and-stones @buffythevampirelover @cowboybrunch @duckingwriting @late-to-the-fandom

@davycoquette @rickie-the-storyteller @theverumproject @wyked-ao3 @melpomene-grey and open tag

Your questions are:

1. What is a guilty pleasure of yours?

2. You overhear someone bad-mouthing your best friend/ closest family member. How do you react?

3. Are you the kind of person who asks for directions if you get lost?

[tsikli]

Ðusyþ word of the day #281

ny'aimeng (turtle)

/nə.ˈʔai̯.meŋ/ [nə.ˈʔəi̯.meŋ]* ⟨ngą̂ʔamenâ⟩

*Standard dialect

Etymology

First coined in several poems from the middle Ðusyþ period, from ny- (fish) + enang (world, earth), lit. the fish of the world, in reference to how turtles were said to be harbouers of great magic and wisdom.

Definition

n.

turtle

... ek y' ny'aimeng: "llôðmeheFens, ei effnyssqhe'im!" et wesnsmifelun, þozny'aimengkwnte rwylenallu. ... and speak turtle "conquer-STR.NEG-2SG-Fens or suffer-NRFTR-2SG-SUBJ" but see-FRPST-NEG-king COP.FRPST-turtle-lowly in-eye-GEN.3 ... and the turtle spoke: "Do not conquer Fens, or you will suffer." But the king did not care, for the turtle was lowly in his eyes. (The Turtle and the King, a fable about the importance of listening to people who may appear to be lowly to you)

[spid3r-trans]

u guys know shameik moores braids from the spiderverse premiere. now think about miles g.

do you see my vision here

[ink-stains-and-constellations]

hooooo boy, ya ready for the list?

Fae/faer: "Fay/fair"

Lyr/lyric: "Leer"/lyric

Rai/rain: "Ray"/rain

Ast/aster: "ast" (rhymes with fast)/aster

Coff/coffee: "Cough"/coffee

Lune/lunar: "loon"/lunar

Ae/aer: "ay/air"

Kie/kier: "kee/kee-er" (sounds more like "ki-er" or "kyer" when you say it faster)

dae/daem/daer: "day/dem/dare"

nyct/nycts: "nikt-nikts"

fey/fen/feyr: "fay/fen/fair"

Ink/inks, art/arts, star/stars, myth/myths, lore/lores, paint/paints, quill/quills, wish/wishes, cherry/blossom, fay/fable, kit/kitsune: all pronounced like the words

I would like to learn!

people with neo pronouns, how do you pronounce your pronouns?

I would like to know what neo pronouns there are and how to pronounce them.

(I know there are and can be an infinite amount)

but yeah I'm just super curious and want to learn

please reblog with your pronouns and how to pronounce them

[ink-stains-and-constellations]

I officially have three spellings of 'fae' in my neopronoun collection. This was not originally intended, but I am not unhappy with how it has turned out. (Can you tell I like faeries lol)

[sonofcoulson]

This was written way before Wakanda Forever as I wanted to set up The Invaders with Cap and the original Human Torch. I really like how they brought Namor into the MCU and what they did with the backstory and mythology. The only way I could make this series work is to rewrite it based on the MCU mythology and I don't know anywhere near enough about Mayan and Aztec cultures to do so. I think I would have to cut this from the It's All Connected Universe :-(

Still, I wrote it so I'm putting it on here anyway!

1920 Atlantis (TV mini series)

The framing device is Fen recounting the past in English to the kids (Namor, Namora, Byrrah and Merrano) as she has decided her Atlantis should all speak English for when they make official contact with the surface dwellers. That way, the whole TV show can be in English.

The style for the show (and subsequent Namor movies) is Roman political intrigue/GoT style betrayals. Any surface dwellers should seem very normal by comparison. And Atlanteans, (apart from Namor who will be closer to his father's tone) are blue skinned.

Leonard Mckenzie captains his ship, Oracle, into Artic waters with Paul Destine (telepath). Destine's expedition is searching for the fabled city of Atlantis. As part of his extensive research, he came into possession of a journal in a script virtually unknown to modern linguists. He had only come across one other surviving document with that script, detailing a trade in Morocco, centuries ago. The Morrocan trader listed the buyer as Atlantean, and the buyer had signed in that script. Destine had then purchased an ancient jewellery box with the script carved into it at auction, spending more than he meant to, and traced it's origin to a beach on the coast of Chile. It only left him enough money to hire the Oracle and it's crew to take him there and thence to where his sixth sense took them.

Leonard is unconvinced and is worried about approaching ice, but Destine is paying and he feels they are close. So they set charges to clear a path.

We follow these charges, then the ice that they break off down the the bottom of the ocean and see... Atlantis!

But the ice crashes down on the city, wreaking havoc. Emperor Thakorr rages (Atlantean talk in their own underwater language, we get subtitles) and is harrying his court to organise an expedition to investigate the cause of the damage. However his daughter, convinces him to let her try to find a peaceful solution. Using the formula that lets homo mermanus breathe above water and heads for the site of the blast (Atlanteans are superhuman swimmers).

She sneaks on board, but is spotted by Leonard, who thinks she is a frozen stowaway (Atlanteans are blue). She beats the crap out of the crew as they try to help her, but they succeed in numbers. They get her into the cabin, but they don't understand Atlantean. Destine uses his abilities to interpret her gestures, eventually understanding.

He shows her the box, she becomes very excited. The two communicate with gestures and telepathy, while Leonard looks on. Destine is able to translate for her and she finds she can repeat some English words. Leonard is then able to join in. They learn her name (Princess Fen) and that she is indeed an Atlantean. Destine is overjoyed that he finally has proof. He tells the crew they will be rich because of their discovery. They congratulate eachother.

Amid the hubbub, Leonard asks what brought her to the surface. She doesn't understand, so he asks Destine to translate.

She tells him that people died because of their explosions and her father, the Emperor, is angry. As Destine translates her answer, the crew falls silent. Leonard explains what the charges were for, but the group all hang their heads in shame.

The conversation becomes more somber.

Over the course of a few days we see her talking to the crew, learning English from Leonard and Destine and chatting with Leonard in broken English.

Down below, Thakorr is becoming anxious. The explosions have stopped, but he has to go to the Pacific Ocean on royal business and didn't want to leave before Fen returns.

Ambitious Krang convinces him to travel, pledging that he will personally bring Fen home.

On the fifth evening, the crew are having a little party to celebrate their success and the coming together of their peoples. Fen is saying that she should go home, her father will be worried. Leonard asks for one more dance.

We fade to Krang's task force approaching the surface.

Ruckus!

The boat is destroyed and the crew dragged into the ocean. The princess convinces the Atlantean soldiers that Thakorr will want the humans brought back alive. Krang tries to overrule her, but she reminds him of his place. And so they flush water out of a compartment of their vehicle before submerging.

They are kept in a (drained?) cell. Krang wants to execute them, but Fen convinces the government that Thakorr should decide their fate. They agree.

Montage showing Fen visiting the crew during their incarceration and falling in love with Leonard.

When Thakorr returns, he says he sees that it was not deliberate, but the Atlantean people cannot forgive their actions as many died (also, Krang has been whispering in his ear). Fen appeals for clemency.

Thakorr will take three days to deliberate.

When she visits them in the cells, she warns them that Krang has the king's ear and is turning against them.

Suddenly, Destine senses a ship approaching. Fen quickly frees them and takes them to the vehicle, stealing a chest of ancient jewels and artefacts from the palace as payment to the ship for their voyage home.

Leonard asks her to come with them as she gets them on the ship, she reminds him that she can only breathe for a short time. We see Destine opening the treasure chest, but quickly cut back to the couple, only hearing the favourable response.

They both cry, she looks like she is about to tell him something, but then she thinks better of it and dives into the water. As she returns to the vehicle, the boat speeds away.

When she returns to the palace, they are in uproar as the prisoners have escaped. Krang sees Fen returning and seizes her "What did you do?!", but she will only speak to her father.

She confesses to Thakorr once alone. He is angry. She tells him she is pregnant. With a surface dweller's child. He is sad. He understands her actions, but says she cannot stay. She begs him to change his mind. He says her mother will take her to the new Atlantic Ocean settlement to live in exile, only returning when the child was ready to be groomed into their role as heir to the throne.

We see them leaving.

Atlanteans should be played by actors of various ethnicities so it doesn't just look like a bunch of angry white people in blue make up invading various countries.

Atlanteans migrated from the original Atlantis to the Antarctic and Fen's offshoot is in the Atlantic.

[artgletic]

hit them with the bugfable-fication beam

[the-faramir]

Midori giggled as the dragonborn booped her in the nose. "Did you just call me a foxy lady? Thank you!" She looked up into Ferenir's eyes, smiling sweetly. "An' if you're not a hugger, then I'll try to put some effort into not bein' all over you all the time. I was kind of hopin'...um...but that's okay. Personal space an' all. I don't want to be off-puttin'. But to you, sir, as my good friend, I give the very special privilege of touchin' my hair an' fur as you like. Maybe belly rubs, too."

As they approached the ice cream shop, she recalled more of what she heard about Cone of Cold in Absalom. "Right. So I hear the owner's some kind o' flavor genius. With her prestidigitation cantrip, she can flavor things however she wants. Usually makes up a few batches of daily varieties with all sorts o' exotic flavors from around the world. AND if you ask her for a custom flavor, she'll mix one up for ya right there an' then! I hear one guy asked for vanilla ice cream with garlic, an' it was actually pretty good."

Sitting down at the table with Ferenir at the ice cream shop, Midori replied, "Wow, your baby slime can learn stuff like readin'? Impressive!" She ordered a waffle cone full of an odd flavor that she noticed on the menu board: orange with a black licorice swirl. "That's much tastier than it sounds, by the way. Citrusy and anisey. The slight bitterness of the licorice balances the sweetness and compliments the slight orangey tartness."

Midori sang:

🎶🎶🎶

Ice cream!

We're gonna have ice cream!

The sweet dairy dream that makes me scream!

I scream!

You scream!

We all scream!

Then the constable comes, sword drawn, an' it's really awkward....

🎶🎶🎶

"Anyhow, you say the fey are dangerous? All right, I'll be careful if I ever run into any. But we're dealin' mostly with xulgaths an' dinosaurs now, so what would be the odds of havin' to run a side quest goin' up against some fey? Pretty low, I'd say. Pretty low.

"An' your shadow enemy? Is he like the fabled Phantom of the Bag of Holding Dimension? The Bagman? Sounds creepy. Hope he doesn't give ya too much of a hard time. Hmm. Ya know, my party just got the gift of a bag of holding at the Densirt Farm before we returned to town today. Ha ha, hope we'll be safe!"

The scooper came by the table to drop off the treats for Ferenir and Midori. The kitsune saw that the ice cream had started to melt, so she stuck out her long tongue and twirled the cone against it to prevent dripping.

"Anyhow, Ferenir—may I call you Fen?—I wanted to talk to you about somethin'." She took Ferenir's hand gently in hers and looked him in the eyes. "Oh, wow, I hadn't seen your eyes this close-up before. Damn, you have pretty eyes. No, wait! That wasn't what I wanted to talk about."

Midori took a deep breath and exhaled, then took a bite of her ice cream and swallowed quickly. "Right. So I get the feelin' that my days are numbered. Like any day we could face a foe who could completely end me, ya know? An' I really like you as a friend an' I want to let you know how I feel."

She looked at Ferenir's eyes quizzically and cocked her head. "Wait, don't think that I'm about to propose marriage or invite you into my bed for intimate relations or declare my undyin' love for you. I mean, intimate relations are completely not my thing, an' I can't let romantic attachments distract me from my circus an' my ongoin' mission.

"Don't get me wrong! I treasure every moment I spend with you. You're like a bright ray of sunshine beamin' down into the gloomy fog of my life. You...make me feel alive. I could talk to you for hours on end. Your sense of humor is amazin' an', hey, you're a good listener. PLUS, I might add, you are a big, powerful...chiseled, statuesque...well, gorgeous guy. An'," Midori leaned closer to Ferenir, closed her eyes, and took a long breath in, "you smell amazin', too," she added with a smile.

"But...where was I again?" Midori giggled. "Yeah." She squeezed his hand. "Ferenir, you are dear to me. I value your friendship an' our time together. Please, let's find the time to spend together whenever we can in between missions an' side quests an' the like. I know you have a lot goin' on an' you have lots of friends to see (an' probably a lover or two—I see how folk stare at you when ya walk by 'em). I'm not tryin' to monopolize your time or anythin', but can you promise to save some time for me, too?"

Her eyes flicked from his left eye to his right back and forth a few times. "I realize you might find all this a bit strange or maybe somewhat intense. Maybe it's just a kitsune thing to talk like this about friendship. But I wanted to lay out all my cards on the table for you to see while I can, ya know?"

@steel-and-fire

Ferenir turned around, searching for the voice and coming across his little, furry friend.

He smiled widely, he hadn't seen her since her tent burned that night, although the wonderful performance and the bravery of everyone as they fought off the xulgaths had remained with him.

"Hey, Midori! It's you!", he hoped over to her, his steps nearly having him fly through the distance. He smiled widely, his turquoise colored eyes softening.

"You seem well, I'm glad to see."

@the-faramir

[pumbkinrabbit]

WoW is...kind of boring

maybe i’m  just dumb and haven’t figured out how to play but like...idk, smth about its gameplay and world seem boring to me

[rlyehtaxidermist]

“So, what are you doing here?”

“Harken, wench, for this temple houses the fabled Sword of Elmbrandt, forged by the fearsome Witches of the First Fen and kept unquenched in a furnace which has burned for a thousand years; when pulled from the fires, the blade will sing out to all who can hear, and mark its wielder as the true master of this land and all others. And as our lord the prince is the noblest-“

“Sounds fake.”

“I assure you, the power is very real; though the temple it sleeps in may have fallen to ruin, abandoned to the whims of the wild, a star of purest magic still burns within. But when our lord-”

“Oh, it’s definitely magic. But the Witches of the First Fen were anarchists, they’d never make a magic king sword. Or, they would, but it’d be super cursed. Besides, why hasn’t someone tried to use it before, if it’s so real and magic and kingly?”

“Many false claimants have failed to draw the blade, only to be smote by the hand of righteous divinity, but our-”

“By ‘the hand of righteous divinity’, do you mean slapstick, tetanus, and a publicly humiliating death due to a series of improbable, even suspicious coincidences?”

“Slander! The Duke of Baxbury’s death, despite the lies of wicked tongues, is known to have been nothing more than a tragic anvil firing accident. Though he mourns his cousin, the prince-”

“Cursed sword it is.”

“No dark power could overcome our lord’s righteousness, for he is-”

“Is that him screaming about a sword lodged in his ass?”

“...yes.”

“Have fun with the hand of righteous divinity!”