#tales of a frozen sailor

[allisonreader]

Time for a poll!

I don't currently have a story blurb for the total of Tales Of A Frozen Sailor, so I wrote up four of them to choose from.

1🌷

A letter in a bottle. A sailor frozen at the bottom of the ocean where it should be an impossibility. All tied to one of the most famous shipwrecks of all time, and one family's continued pain finally gets some closure.

2🌹

Jesse Hudson was an Able Seaman who died during the sinking of the Titanic. Jesse's family always struggled with the loss of their family member. Then one day a message in a bottle found amongst the Titanic's wreckage brings forth all sorts of revelations to light about what happened to the sailor.

3🪻

Sometimes there are events that can't be explained by science. Finding a message in a bottle with it's writer frozen nearby was one of them. Leaving one family's questions about what happened to their missing sailor answered, but has unexpected trials that come with those answered questions.

4🌺

There was always a slight controversy about what happened to the sailor Jesse Hudson on the Titanic. Common wisdom said that he was nothing more than one of the many unfortunate casualties of the sinking. His close friend and would have been brother-in-law; John Winters, begged to differ. Years after the sinking and John's death, a letter and more surprisingly a frozen body just might prove John Winters' suspicions that his friend's supposed death was not as innocent as just being another victim of the wreck and not enough lifeboats.

[allisonreader]

When I saw that today's prompt was letters, I realized how well my story thoughts from last night fit. Considering that a good portion of these thoughts consist of how important letters would be to that story. It would be how two of the characters first meet. Letters is how their relationship begins. (That musing HERE.)

It also made me think about how I have a couple of other stories where letters (or lack there of) are rather important. Letters (particularly one letter) are a very important part of Tales Of A Frozen Sailor, since the one letter is a catalyst for certain parts of the story to actually happen. (And I actually wrote out a physical copy of that letter and took a picture of it to add to the feel of the story.)

Another story (that I need to work on again some day) is my shipwreck story. Though in it's case, the issue is that letters are not being sent/being allowed to get to the person they're intended for. Leading to a terrible misunderstanding that has been purposely orchestrated to have done exactly that.

Then just to rope in The Hidden Royals again, there's also letters being passed between jailer and prisoner to be given to the prisoner's wife.

Then last but not least, the hand lettering (handwritten) copy that I've been working on for my rewrite of Tales Of A Frozen Sailor, because I want it to be better and more filled out story wise than the just under 33,000 words that is currently posted for it.

The Chesterton Challenge: Day 22

Welcome to Day 22 of the Chesterton Challenge! If you haven't already, make sure to check out the creations linked in the notes of yesterday's post.

Today’s Optional Prompt is: Letter

Because I can't let the month go by without referencing the fact that Chesterton wrote one of the greatest love letters of all time. Your creation can reference that kind of letter (you can even write and send a letter), but there are plenty of other definitions of the word that you can use to inspire your creation: letters of the alphabet, letter grades, a red-letter day, etc.

Whatever you create, make sure to show us or tell us about it by reblogging or replying to this post. (Don’t forget: anyone is allowed to join in the fun at any point during the Challenge.)

Now go forth and create!

[inklings-sprint]

Impromptu writing sprint!

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Sort of.

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Basically I'm just using this as a way to keep me accountable by giving updates on what progress or lack of progress I'm making on a stubborn story.

[romerona]

Stellar Veil

In which a star falls in Westeros.

Cregan Stark x reader????

Words 1.7k

The night draped Westeros in its customary shroud, stars flickering like cold diamonds against the dark tapestry of the sky. And yet, amidst this celestial dance, a singular brilliance unfolded—a comet, resplendent in its fiery tail, streaked boldly across the heavens.

In King's Landing, where ambition and conspiracy brewed as thick as the city's smog, the Red Keep stood sentinel against the cosmic display. Nobles and commoners alike were drawn to its battlements and gardens, their faces upturned in wonder and trepidation. The comet's golden glow suffused the city, casting shadows that danced across cobblestones and whispered secrets into the night.

Far to the west, where the Iron Islands gripped the tempestuous seas, sailors paused in their dance with the waves. From the deck of every longship, weathered faces turned skyward, witnessing the comet's passage mirrored in the restless waters below. Above them, the ancient castle of Pyke seemed to hold its breath, its jagged silhouette outlined against the blaze.

Across the tumultuous waters of the Narrow Sea, the comet's brilliance reflected off the prow of Braavosi merchant ships and the galleys of the Free Cities. Sailors, traders and slaves hardened by salt and sea, paused in their endless voyages to witness this divine occurrence.

In the Reach, where the verdant fields of Highgarden stretched beneath a canopy of stars, peasants and nobles alike paused. They gazed heavenward, their hearts filled with awe and mistrust, as tales danced upon their lips.

And in the North, where the night was as black as obsidian and the stars burned with an icy intensity, the comet blazed its final path. Its light pierced the veil of mist hanging over the haunted forest and the desolate lands beyond. There, amidst the sentinel trees and the solemn silence of the far North, the comet's radiance flared brightly before vanishing beyond the horizon.

South of the Wall, in the desolate expanse known as the Gift, the comet's descent shattered the silence of the frozen wilderness with fierce force. A blinding flash of light, brighter than the pale moon above, rent the night asunder. The ground trembled violently beneath the celestial impact, sending shockwaves rippling through the thick crust of snow that covered the ancient land.

As the earth ceased its violent tremors, silence descended upon the northern wilderness like a heavy cloak. The Night's Watch, vigilant guardians of the Wall and the realms of men, stood amidst the aftermath of the comet's impact, their faces etched with awe and apprehension.

Commander Ulric Rivers, a grizzled veteran of many winters, surveyed the scene with a mixture of curiosity and concern. His voice cut through the lingering echoes of the crash, commanding attention from the assembled rangers.

"Brothers," he intoned, his words carrying the weight of authority earned through years of service beyond the Wall. "Gather your gear. We must survey the impact site."

The rangers, seasoned men clad in black with weapons and fur-trimmed cloaks, exchanged glances of determination. Among them, Harald Snow, a knight of the Watch known for his keen eye and steady hand, stepped forward.

"Commander," Ser Harald spoke, his voice steady despite the tension that hung in the air, "We will go. We'll bring back word of what we find, true as steel."

Commander Ulric nodded in approval, his expression grim but resolute. "Go swiftly, and return with all haste. The hour is late."

With that, the rangers set forth, the horses steps crunch on the icy ground as they ventured towards the crater that marked the comet's violent descent. Behind them, the rest of the Night's Watch remained vigilant, their eyes trained upon the northern horizon where the comet's trail still lingered faintly in the night sky.

The rangers approached the crater cautiously, their breath visible in the frigid air as they navigated the transformed landscape. The snow around the impact site had melted into a steaming morass, revealing scorched earth and jagged fragments of rock still glowing faintly with residual heat. The air hummed with a strange, palpable energy, casting an otherworldly glow over the scene.

Ser Jaremy Woodbear, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, led the way with Harald Snow close behind. Their sharp eyes scanned their surroundings, taking in every detail with the precision of a seasoned watchman. Beside them, Alexio Stone, a stoic figure with weathered features and a keen intellect, knelt to examine a particularly large fragment of rock that jutted from the ground like a blackened tooth.

"Careful now," Harald Snow cautioned, his voice a low murmur that carried on the wind. "We don't know what this rock may hold. Keep your wits about you."

Ser Jaremy Woodbear, ever vigilant, was the first to notice the form inside the crater—a woman.

"Ser Harald, come, there's a woman..." Jaremy called out quietly, his voice carrying a note of awe and uncertainty.

Harald Snow hurried to his side, his eyes narrowing as he beheld the scene before him. Nestled amidst the charred remnants of the comet's impact lay a figure unlike any he had seen in his years ranging away from the Wall. A woman, an ethereal woman. Her skin seemed to shimmer with a faint glow, casting gentle reflections upon the jagged rocks that surrounded her.

"Gods be good," Harald muttered under his breath, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. "What in the name of the Seven Kingdoms...?"

Alexio Stone slowly made his way down and knelt beside the woman, his weathered hands hovering uncertainly above her prone form. "She... she's glowing,"

The woman lay still, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that seemed out of place amidst the chaos of the impact site. Her hair, a cascade that shimmered like moonlight, framed a face that could have graced the halls of the most illustrious castles in Westeros. Despite the harshness of her surroundings, an air of tranquility radiated from her presence, as if she were untouched by the violence that had torn through the night.

"She does not seem a threat. We'll take her back to Castle Black,” Harald decided finally, his gaze lingering upon the woman's enigmatic form. "Ser Jaremy, help me carry her."

With careful hands, the ranger lifted the unconscious woman from the heart of the crater, cradling her as gently as if she were made of glass. Her ethereal glow seemed to pulse faintly in response to the touch, but as they traveled, the ethereal glow that had surrounded her began to dim, fading like the dying embers of a once brilliant fire. Her radiant presence dwindled until she appeared as any ordinary woman, though her beauty still held a haunting quality that spoke of otherworldly origins.

Harald Snow glanced at her intermittently, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "Keep an eye on her," he instructed the rangers quietly, his voice carrying a rare note of uncertainty. "We know not what we carry."

The journey back to Castle Black was fraught with quiet tension, each step echoing with the weight of their extraordinary discovery. The woman remained unconscious, her features peaceful yet arcane as if she carried secrets woven into the very fabric of her being.

As the gates of Castle Black creaked open to admit the weary party, all eyes turned towards the mysterious woman cradled in the arms of Ser Jaremy Woodbear and his fellow rangers. The men of the Night's Watch gathered in hushed clusters, their faces etched with curiosity and apprehension as they beheld the ethereal beauty now brought within their walls. Commander Ulric Rivers stepped forward to greet them, his brow furrowed in stern inquiry. His gaze locked onto the woman.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ulric Rivers demanded, his voice cutting through the murmurs that had begun to ripple through the assembled ranks. His eyes narrowed with suspicion, though beneath the stern exterior, there flickered a hint of curiosity and perhaps even concern.

Harald Snow, unwavering in the face of his superior's scrutiny, stepped forward with measured resolve. "We found her at the site of the comet's impact," he explained evenly, his tone betraying none of the awe he felt at the mysterious woman's presence thought he hesitated to continue. "She… appeared to be glowing.”

The courtyard fell silent as the gravity of their discovery settled over the assembled brothers. Whispers filled the air, mingling with the chill wind that swept down from the Wall, most not believing, saying it was a wildling woman, others whispering about sorcery.

Ulric Rivers approached the woman with cautious steps, his gaze assessing her with a mixture of scepticism and a begrudging acknowledgement of the inexplicable. Her ethereal beauty was undeniable—a stark contrast to the rugged surroundings of the ancient stronghold. Her hair, a shade that shimmered iridescently in the torchlight, cascaded around her like a flowing waterfall of sapphire strands. It was a hue unlike any he had seen before.

Her attire was equally unusual—a gown of fine fabric that seemed to shift and shimmer with every movement, as if woven from threads spun by the stars themselves. Its design was intricate, with patterns that hinted at craftsmanship far beyond the skills known to the realms of Westeros.

Ulric Rivers frowned, his thoughts racing with speculation. "This is no wildling," he muttered under his breath, his voice a gruff murmur that carried a note of wonder. "Nor any woman of our lands."

Beside Ulric, Harald Snow exchanged a meaningful glance with Ser Jaremy Woodbear and Alexio Stone. They had seen many things in their years on the Wall, but none quite like this.

"Should we remove her gown?" Harald asked quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. That statement earn a hum of agreement from the men around them.

However, Ulric shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the woman. "No, leave her be for now, we'll keep her under watch until we have answers. Lord Stark will need to hear of this. Prepare quarters for her," he instructed, his tone firm despite the uncertainty that gnawed at the edges of his command. "And summon the Maester. We'll need his counsel."

With practiced efficiency, ser Jaremy Woodbear carried the woman to a chamber within Castle Black, where torchlight flickered against the ancient stone walls and cast long shadows across the floor. And above them, the stars continued their eternal dance, oblivious to the upheaval their celestial sibling had wrought upon the realm of men.

Part 2?????

A/N: The story is inspired by Stardust by Neil Gaiman.

I’m still unsure who is the main LI will be but Cregan is top 3.

And while it's an Xreader I will be describing the hair colour and eyes. But just that.

[ringleaderising]

Did Magda strike a deal with Pig, or did he wake up one day thirsting for the big milf in the sky? (Or did Magda say "Pig.. go kill for me, sweety <3" and Pig went "ON IT!!!" and started hacking people up like a professional chef for his god-wife) - vabam-fr

So Pig technically became uh, The Pig in the aftermath of an incident at his first circus- before he joined the Vaudemire Sideshow. He intervened between a parent being needlessly cruel to their offspring about a treat Pig had given them while he was entertaining (Literally just a little piece of candy, it was not worth hurting a child over, and every other kid watching Pig's show at the time got the same 'prize') and when he stopped them (by physically stepping in between them, and then shoving the adult back, when they tried to get past him again) he accidentally shoved them into a tent pole with an outstretched, steel spike that hadn't been properly sunk- killing them.

In the ensuing chaos, Pig was taken aback- he'd never hurt anyone before, in all honesty he was a young guy, literally just working with the circus to have a place to live, after he left home to seek his charge. So he stood there, relatively frozen among the chaos- and while everyone else was having a full-tilt breakdown because the clown just offed somebody, Pig found his Charge. The blade of his Cleaver is actually that very tent-spike, heated and flattened into a cutting blade and blended with other metals to enlarge the tool, because it was the blood shed by that spike that called Magda to the circus grounds.

Called "Eyeless Mag" in children's tales, she too, was a victim of circumstance. slain by her husband- a sailor- in a fit of jealousy when he believed her to be cheating on him with visitors to the tavern she worked as a barmaid in, she was split tail to snout and tossed into the ocean near Vaudemire Way's dockyard- but with a spirit far too powerful and unwilling to die with her body, she joined The Host, serving as a prophet of death and a carver of cairn stones. She haunts the area around Vaudemire Way, carving grave markers and turning tough, living soil and tangled shadowy branches to provide a place to put those who's death she's forseen. She herself is Pig's Charge, brought only into contact with him when she is needed to warn or bury the dead, Pig's mind just kinda. Broke. in the genuinely tramatic moments of discovering his charge.

He's forgotten his name, using only the clown name he performed under- face paint unwashed so long it's seemingly fused to his scales, and costume ripped and tattered now patched with pieces torn from his kills, it's not Magda's fault he is what he is- she is a charge already failed, a dead thing he is constantly calling back to the land of the living to do her duty so he can spend even a few moments in her orbit.

However, he is the only friend Mag has known, for as long as she can remember at least- and so the Cleaversworn is a double-edged sword much like the weapon he uses in her name. She knows all he wants is to protect her, and she will allow that much, as there is a constant risk of exorcists and thronebreakers in pursuit of the more docile of those who populate The Host. In turn, she has a vested fondness for Pig himself, less a goddess and more a ghostly companion, who's talent with premonition and knowledge of death has allowed her 'champion' to skirt it, time and time again.

Magda attends any death in the area of the gaplands she oversees- it's not her fault that Pig happens to be behind most of them simply to see her again.

tl;dr: Magda didn't ask for this, and neither did Pig, but if he is going to swear himself into her service, the least Magda thinks she can do is keep him from dying while he's doing it.

[allisonreader]

I have seen this pass my dash a few times now, leaving me debating whether I should reblog it or not, but how can I not now? Lol. Thanks for thinking of me @lady-merian.

i had a dream that time travel was invented and too many people choose to travel back in time to save the titanic from sinking (the question of whether unsinking of the titanic deserved so much attention in the face of human history was the subject of both heavy academic and online discourse), which caused a rift in the space-time-continuum that led to the titanic showing up indiscriminately all over the world’s oceans and sea in various states of sinking.

this caused a lot of issues both in terms of fixing said space-time-continuum and in terms of nautical navigation, and after a long and heavy battle in the international maritime organization it was decided that the bureaucratic burden of dealing with this was to be upon Ireland, much to their dismay. the Irish Government then released an app for all sailors and seafarers so they could report titanic sightings during their journeys, even though they heavily dissuaded you from reporting them given the paperwork it caused.

anyway i woke up with a clear image of the app in my head and needed to recreate it for all of you:

[addamvelaryon]

Addam & Alyn as Merlings

Sailors, by nature a gullible and superstitious lot, as fond of their fancies as singers, tell many tales of these frigid northern waters…. They whisper of Cannibal Bay, where ships enter at their peril only to find themselves trapped forever when the sea freezes hard behind them.

They tell of pale blue mists that move across the waters, mists so cold that any ship they pass over is frozen instantly; of drowned spirits who rise at night to drag the living down into the grey-green depths; of mermaids pale of flesh with black-scaled tails, far more malign than their [kin] of the south.

Artist: SpitfireGoBrrr

[silvermoon424]

My manga collection (October 2023)

I did a post detailing my manga collection back in 2021, but it's grown a lot since then so I figured I'd make a new post! It was also a good time to do so because we're repainting my room and while there's usually a ton of anime merch in front of the books on my shelves, now it's all been packed up. So there's a clear look at the books without me having to move anything, lol.

Anyway, without further adieu, here we go! My manga collection is largely shoujo (specifically magical girls) and horror manga.

Pet Shop of Horrors by Matsuri Akino

Pet Shop of Horrors: Tokyo by Matsuri Akino

The Clique by Yishan Li

Frozen II manga by Arina Tanemura

Dark Metro by Tokyo Calen and Yoshiken

Yokai Rental Shop by Shin Mashiba

Confidential Confessions by Reiko Momochi

Pichi Pichi Pitch (aka Mermaid Melody) by Michiko Yokote and Pink Hanamori

Magical Girl Site by Kentaro Sato

Reiko the Zombie Shop by Rei Mikamoto

Les Miserables (manga adaptation) by TszMei Lee

Nightmares for Sale by Kaoru Ohashi

Presents by Kanako Inuki

Mail by Housui Yamazaki

Dark Water by Meimu

Tale of a White Night by Tooko Miyagi

Goth by Otsuichi and Kendi Oiwa

Beautiful People by Mitsukazu Mihara

Attack on Titan: No Regrets by Gun Snark and Hikaru Suruga

In Clothes Called Fat by Moyoco Anno

A Girl on the Shore by Inio Asano

Bride of Deimos by Etsuko Ikeda and Yuuho Ashibe

Limit by Keiko Suenobu

Helter Skelter by Kyoko Okazaki

Dolls omnibus (in Japanese) by Yumiko Kawahara

Ibitsu by Haruto Ryo

A God Somewhere (Western comic) by John Arcudi and Peter Snejbjerg

Beauty (Western comic) by Hubert and Kerascoët

Ah! My Goddess by Kōsuke Fujishima

Only One Wish by Mia Ikumi

Higurashi When They Cry: Festival Accompanying Arc by Karin Suzuragi

Chronicles of the Grim Peddler by Lee Jeoun-A

PTSD Radio by Masaaki Nakayama

Elfen Lied by Lynn Okamoto

Ikigami: The Ultimate Limit by Motoro Mase

Happy Sugar Life by Tomiyaki Kagisora

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Phantom Blood by Hirohiko Araki

An Ojamajo Doremi artbook (in Japanese)

Mermaid Saga by Rumiko Takahashi

Dolls by Yumiko Kawahara

Maid-sama by Hiro Fujiwara

Franken Fran by Katsuhisa Kigitsu

Hell Girl by Miyuki Eto

Gurren Lagann by Kotaro Mori

Doll by Mitsukazu Mihara

Mantis Woman by Senno Knife

Various Sailor Moon artbooks from the anime, manga illustrations by Naoko Takeuchi, and fan artbooks

Sailor Moon Eternal Edition by Naoko Takeuchi

Sailor V Eternal Edition by Naoko Takeuchi

Puella Magi Madoka Magica by Hanokage

Puella Magi Madoka Magica: The Different Story by Hanokage

Puella Magi Madoka Magica: The Wraith Arc by Hanokage

Puella Magi Madoka Magica: The Rebellion Story by Hanokage

Puella Magi Oriko Magica by Kuroe Mura

Puella Magi Oriko Magica: Sadness Prayer by Kuroe Mura

Puella Magi Tart Magica by Golden Pe Done

Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story by Fuji Fujino

Assorted PMMM and Magia Record artbooks

Pokemon Adventures (aka Pokemon Special) by Hidenori Kusaka and Mato/Satoshi Yamamoto. I own the complete set of the RBG, Yellow, GSC, FRLG, Emerald and HGSS arcs as well as a few volumes from the RS, DP, and Black/White arcs.

Various Pokemon 4koma (in Japanese)

Pokemon: I Choose You by Ryo Takamisaki

Phantom Thief Pokemon 7 by Miho Asada

The Rise of Darkrai by Ryo Takamisaki

Pokemon Diamond and Pearl Adventure by Shigekatsu Ihara

The Electric Tale of Pikachu by Toshihiro Ono

The Art of Pokemon Adventures by Satoshi Yamamoto (both English and Japanese versions)

Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Ginji's Rescue Team by Makoto Mizobuchi

Pokemon Ranger and the Temple of the Sea by Makoto Mizobuchi

Various Junji Ito Manga:

Dissolving Classroom

Fragments of Horror

The Liminal Zone

Sensor

Black Paradox

Gyo

Uzumaki

Tomie

Deserter

Tombs

Lovesickness

Smashed

Shiver

Frankenstein

Remina

Venus in the Blind Spot

No Longer Human

Twisted Visions (artbook)

Uzumaki coloring book

Uzumaki (original printing) by Junji Ito

Museum of Terror by Junji Ito

Soichi by Junji Ito

The Drifting Classroom by Kazuo Umezu

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Battle Tendency by Hirohiko Araki

Orochi by Kazuo Umezu

Be Very Afraid of Kanoko Inuki! by Kanoko Inuki

Wonderland by Yugo Ishikawa

Shadows House by Somato

I Had That Sane Dream Again by Yoru Sumino

Is Love the Answer? by Uta Isaki

Nightmare Inspector by Shin Mashiba

The Ring by Misao Inagaki

Wonder House of Horrors by Miyako Cojima

Puella Magi Suzune Magica by GAN

Puella Magi Kazumi Magica by Masaki Hiramatsu and Takashi Tensugi

Magia Record: Another Story by U35

I also have some manga in storage like Inuyasha and Kitchen Princess, but that's about it!

[ohhcinnybuns]

Here I am again,

You've been expecting me because I can't keep my mouth shut,

But if we don't know how their story ends, what then?

I have another prompt for you that's sure to really cut

‘  i am aching to hold you  &  keep you safe,  to be pressed against you so that nothing can harm you.  ’ 👀

In his arms, by the sea - Merman! Chuuya and Captain Dazai (OTPOY alternate ending)

Words: 2.8k

The shushing of the ocean waves entered his ears, muffled as if his head was below water. It could be. His mind had felt absent for months, his irises becoming mornings waiting at dawn for a sign—any sign at all. 

Time seemingly moved along without him. Days became weeks and months. Every morning, the same routine. He would walk, wait by the pier, gaze at the horizon, and return to the lighthouse he called home. He waited by the shore, hoping that a streaking comet would surface from below the sea, vermillion-drenched locks and teardrop irises ready to call his name and bring him back from his mind’s deceptive trenches. 

Boats drift by, bellowing their horn, while seagulls turn over vacant shells, searching for a morsel. Whispers of people passing by began to call him insane as if the story of his life that made him human was nonexistent and make-believe.

It was as if he had not been there to witness the tragic event that seemingly had him frozen there in time, wondering what he could have done differently to bring his loved ones home. 

---

All he had wanted to know was answers. All he had wanted to do was to understand why his father never came home. 

Why did Fyodor have to reappear when his father was doing just fine, away from the life of piracy to start anew? Why did the rat have to remove someone who meant so much to him, stepping all over the bond they’d come to build, know, and grow? 

Fyodor never even liked Oda to begin with. He always suspected that Fyodor disliked Oda for walking away from his crew - the mark of the Decay of Angels blemished on his arm, a grim reminder of the gruesome things he participated in. 

Dazai gritted his teeth with every sight of it because that was not the Oda that raised him. There was no piracy to him, only a man in love with the sea, freedom, and exploration. Oda had tried to move away from the decay that wanted to mold him, and in the end, his love for the sea always called him back, like a siren tempting her sailor to come forth and pull him under. They lured him, never to come back this time. 

“Where is he?” Dazai pressed him, holding a knife to the captain’s neck. 

“Have you tried looking at the bottom of the Yokohama port, Dazai-kun?" the captain returned his question with a cackle that turned Dazai’s boiling blood glacier-cold. He shivered, breathing rapidly through the gut-wrenching feeling coiling in his stomach. 

“I’m not playing.”

"If you really want to know, Dazai dear, he never left the port. He tried to run, but unfortunately, Nikolai was much faster than he thought,” Fyodor said with a widening smirk. “He got him right here," he continued his tale, the back of his hand knocking against Dazai's chest, “two shots is all it took for him to tumble off the boat. So very sad, Dazai-kun. I’m so very sorry for your loss." 

A ringing in his ear. A shaky breath. Dizzy, tunneling vision. He had hoped it was a lie, but what did Fyodor have to gain from it? Nothing at all. Nothing was ever enough for a cold, blooded monster like him. No amount of plundering and violence was ever enough. He had told the truth and there was nothing more to it. 

Fyodor took hold of his devastation to make his escape. He shoved Dazai away, swiftly kicking open a barrel of oil and throwing a nearby lamp to the ground before dashing away. 

Fyodor ignited his ship with his followers, plans, and treasure still on it. Their convenience didn’t matter - they were only pawns ready to sink with their captain and ship. 

Dazai managed to escape the stores and jumped out of the burning ship into a safety raft. He cut the rope, ready to return to his boat, when a streak of a reddened bioluminescent tail swam past him beneath the bow of the blazing ship. 

“Chuu…ya?” His heart quickened, and he gulped down a knot forming in his throat in worry. The sound of screaming pirates roaring to extinguish fires blared in his ears, the crackling of compromised wood searing the sky. 

Dazai kept his sights on the water, waiting for any sign of Chuuya to return, but that’s when he heard a creaking, the sound of wood snapping out of place. Dazai gasped, smoky fires penetrating his lungs as his eyes stung from falling ash and soaking sea salt. He knew then Chuuya's plan to stop Fyodor. He couldn't do anything. He felt useless. 

Whatever Chuuya had attempted must not have been enough, the ship continued rocking, and Dazai could feel adrenaline as he waited for Chuuya to return to the surface. But he did not. 

Instead, the sea began to bubble and sway viciously, waves growing and pushing Dazai’s safety raft away from the blazing ship. He had to hold on to the side of his raft to keep his balance; otherwise, he risked tipping into the water. He placed a hand over his mouth and nose to slow the inhale of smog and water from entering his system, and when he was pushed a fair distance away, his eyes were wide as he watched the mighty ship struggle against the sudden force pulsing from below the boat. 

The once abysmal ocean thundered brightly as if a light switch had been flicked on, like an active volcano ready to burst. The sea turned a spilled bloody wine surrounding the vessel before a red and black beam broke through the mainmast. The boat started crumpling like a tin can before the ship splintered down its middle and split into two. 

“CHUUYA!” he had cried, heart drumming so quickly it trembled his body. 

Screaming bodies landed in the ocean, crying for help. The few rafts left on the ship had caught fire, unusable. Dazai searched the chaos for any sign of Chuuya but instead found Fyodor, who tossed aside a crewmate floating on a piece of wreckage for himself. 

The crewmate attempted to scale on again but was kicked away by the captain’s boot, which used him as leverage to float the makeshift raft away. The crewmate submerged underwater, nowhere to be seen. Then he sat leisurely, with a knee raised, surveying his surroundings while removing his wet dressings with a smirk. It made Dazai's blood boil, but it didn't last long. 

The same glowing light that brought down the boat sped towards the wreckage Fyodor sat upon at top speed and pulsed water like a geyser to flip it over, tossing the captain into the ocean’s depths once more. Dazai knew it was Chuuya, and he could not look away, slightly relieved that the merman was still out there. 

Fyodor’s head appeared above water briefly before Chuuya sprung from behind, clinging to a bewildered Fyodor with an arm hooked around their neck and hissing at his prey. He bit into the crook of the rat’s neck, his catch thrashing about and screaming in pain, shouting curses that fell on deaf ears as his surviving crewmates watched in terror, holding tightly to their wreckage and removing themselves from the water as quickly as possible. All the fighting did nothing to Chuuya except clench his teeth tighter. 

Dazai could feel Chuuya's gaze on him; pitch-black irises and red swirling symbols slithered all over his body, making him almost unrecognizable. The hand that held Fyodor became a claw resembling molten magma covered in inky veins, and blood seemed to leak from his orifices, staining his chest, shoulders, and face. He didn’t appear all that responsive, working on autopilot and consciousness.

“So this is… Chuuya’s true from…” is all Dazai could mumble, awe in his shaky breath. He wanted nothing more than for Chuuya to come back to him so he could wrap his arms around him and whisper to him that everything was okay now. He doesn't have to do more. Dazai beckoned for the merman to come close. 

The redhead detached his jaw from the rat’s nape, features twitching as if wincing now and again. He was in a primal state, and his instincts to attack were rampant, but beneath that, there were flickers of exhaustion, and Dazai could see the merman panting as if at his limit.

The merman's claw dug into the side of Fyodor’s throat and slashed it open. Blood rushed, screaming subsiding into gurgles, choking on salted water and iron. The captain's crewmates could only watch in horror as their leader pawed at his neck, trying to remove Chuuya’s hold on him. In the end, it was futile.

Drifting a little away from the wreckage had been Sigma and Nikolai, panting and soaking wet inside of a burnt boat, having seemingly gotten away just in time before the ship fractured. They could hear their captain screaming into the night sky, and all Sigma could do was turn his back to the scene and cover his ears. Nikolai, on the other hand, watched on with a balled fist and furrowed brows, turmoil flickering between Sigma and his captain. Ultimately, he chose to stay seated, watching his captain be mauled with a conflicted gaze. It's every man for themselves in open waters - any fight and loyalty they might have had in them sunk with their ship. 

Fyodor continued thrashing wildly until Chuuya couldn't handle his fuss anymore. The fins that shaped the redhead’s ears fanned back, and before Dazai could call to him, Chuuya dove below the surface with his prey in hand, their tail fanning swiftly to gain as much distance between himself and the surface before the flicker of his tail died out, losing sight of him. Dazai’s stomach drops, eyes round, hands gripping wood tightly as he leans against the bow of his raft for any sight of the merman, but he never resurfaces. 

He doesn't know how long he stood on that life raft out at sea waiting for Chuuya, hoping they would return. There was no sight of his bioluminescence. Dazai didn't know if Chuuya was alive or dead. 

Nothing could have prepared him to grieve as deeply as he did when he stepped back into his ship, rescued by his friends, who placed a blanket over him and directed him to his quarters. 

A piece of his heart sunk to the bottom of the ocean that night, an endless stream of tears over the reality of Oda's death and Chuuya's disappearance washing over him all at once. Everything around him moved in slow motion, rocking with his ship, paused forever in this moment, trapped in a loop that didn't want to let him go and hadn't let him go. 

How does anyone learn to move forward after the death of their loved ones? It is said that time heals all wounds, but what if some wounds don’t close? That has been a question that has plagued his mind since that night. Dazai never honestly thought about it, always having thought that his life should have ended at thirteen when he initially tried to drown himself. Yet, Oda and Chuuya became his saving grace when he thought he would never have anyone on his side, and now he was left to live without them. 

---

The walk back to the lighthouse this evening is a little chillier. Winter starts are always like that, much more polar next to the sea, but Dazai wouldn’t change it. He keeps his gaze lowered, mindful enough not to walk into others, hands in his tan coat pockets, breathing into the bundled navy scarf around his neck. The clicks of his shoes are the only evidence that he is moving forward and not floating to his destination. 

Crisp sea salt permeated his senses, hair fluffed and ruffled by the breeze. He walks the crisscrossing piers, the crescent shape of the harbor leading to a rocky shoreline, where a path veers off at its end, steps leading up to his lighthouse. This is where it all started. It’s only right that this is where he should end���the beginning of them and the entanglement of their Fates after the catalyst of his drowning. 

He had thought that maybe Oda would have loved Dazai buying the lighthouse - a home they could share instead of the shanty shack they used to live in because Oda was humble like that. The lighthouse kept them close to the coast, nights full of lulling tides and wondrous expanses of diamonds in the sky; perhaps it would have saved Oda from his end to have what he loved the most so close to him. Dazai wanted to give him that. 

He also thought Chuuya would have visited him more often. He thought they could meet again at the rocky ledges and dive together to explore the world below, fingers entwined and bodies close. He once joked to Chuuya that in another life, they would be fated sea horses drifting with the rolling tide in a swirling dance. The memory alone makes him smile, remembering the bright red hues that made the merman’s cheeks flush and splash water at him. 

Dazai bundles the scarf around his neck more tightly, the snugness comforting him as he ascends the steps. There is always tomorrow, he supposes as if that’s not what he’s been telling himself for months. There is always a tomorrow. 

As he reaches the door of his home, he unlocks it and enters, ready to close the door. A sound of quick steps enters his ears, and a hand holds his door open before he can fully close it shut. 

“Wait!” the person pants. They continue inhaling and exhaling as if they had been running for miles, finally trying to catch their breath.  

Dazai blinks, instinctively opening his door with a, “Yes? What can I do for you?” 

It wasn't often that he had visitors storming at his door. The last person to visit him had been Atsushi to check on his well-being. However, the sight he came upon made him speechless. 

“You walk…so fast…those lanky legs of yours… goddamn it… How am I supposed to keep up? Wait, I need a minute…” 

Before him was the soul of the ocean incarnate—flaming locks dry, curled, and swept to the side, trying to catch their breath. The stunning blue of his eyes glared at him playfully, a smirk plastered on his lips as his breathing regulated. He wore modern clothing and was rather handsome: a black leather jacket, onyx gloves, and a plain black T-shirt. At his neck rested a choker that replaced the seashell garland he used to wear. But even more surprising was the lack of a fishtail, replaced by legs hidden beneath navy jeans. 

“Chuuya?” Dazai croaked through the lump in his throat. All that time, waiting for time to shift along again. 

The redhead stands tall, a hand on his hip as he beams, asking, “Did you miss me?”

Dazai leaps forward, embracing Chuuya in his arms tightly, body trembling as if scared that the body he held was a figment of the imagination. He feels Chuuya chuckle into his chest, snaking his arms around his waist before whispering a small, “I’m home.” 

Dazai’s grip tightens for a minute before letting the redhead go, pulling back to look at Chuuya again, who gazes at him sheepishly, pink shading across his face. 

His eyes sting, caressing the softness of Chuuya’s cheek tenderly, still processing that Chuuya was standing before him. His hands continued to travel down to his neck, where he could feel their quickened blood flowing, and finally down to his chest, where a thumping heart beats. 

He looks in awe as Chuuya smirks up at him again. A smile surfaces, bubbling happiness overwhelming him as he leans in to capture his lover's lips in a kiss, tears finally falling free. Chuuya came back. 

Chuuya smiles, standing on his tiptoes, wrapping his arm around Dazai’s neck to keep them close. Dazai pulls away enough for their lips to brush together, a gentle “Welcome home” spilling from his lips, as Chuuya thumbs away the droplets from his eyes. 

The redhead grins, raking his hands through the brunette's knotting locks, speaking softly, “Sorry I kept you waiting so long.” 

Dazai hums with a smile and a nod, fondly gazing at his lover before kissing their forehead and taking hold of their hand. 

“You do have some explaining to do,” Dazai says with a small laugh. 

Chuuya laughs along, holding their hands up to place a kiss on Dazai’s wrist as an apology—one of Dazai’s favorite things that Chuuya did. Intimate and gentle. 

“Yeah, I know,” is all the redhead says calmly. 

Dazai nods, stepping away, leading Chuuya by their clasped hands into their home. Finally, time could move forward for him again - no longer stuck with ‘what ifs’  and wondering what he could have done differently for another outcome. No longer would Dazai be in his loneliness, gazing out at the ocean from his lighthouse or at the piers, waiting for a sign of life. Finally, he could live the rest of his days happily with his lover in his arms by the sea. 

[fiberturkey89]

Water Dragon of the First Realm headcanons/lore pt. Six

(Background is a cropped concept art piece from the Ninjago wiki! Make sure to tap for better quality).

These Dragons are often revered as water spirits that reside in many bodies of water; lakes, rivers, deltas, wetlands, floodplains, oceans. It is believed that both Water and Ice Dragons were the ones to carve the mountains with their Elemental Breaths so that water could flow to the rest of the lands. However, it is said that the Water Dragon is the one who carved the fjords and inlets that kiss land and sea. For the song of the ocean was too strong to ignore, it is the final destination where the flow will begin anew once more.

Water, Ice, and Wind Dragons share a special bond with each other. Often referred to as the Trio of Cycles, these three are often in the vicinity of one another. Yet the only place all three can be found are in the Northern Lands of the First Realm, where Ice and Water meet with Wind. Without Wind Dragons, there would be no snow/icestorms or rainfall, or so many legends say.

Where Ice and Wind Dragons often prefer to pass in the highest points (either natural or created) where it is coldest and the most turbulent, Water Dragons prefer to pass where fresh water meets salt water. For they are of the belief that if one dies where the two combine, their spirits will join the Cycle of Flow. Reborn in the frozen ice of the mountains during Winter, they are then birthed in the Spring where they will travel back to the bodies of water they lived in so that they may live once more. Water Dragons as well celebrate The Long Dark and The Solar Reach. For it marks the cycle of those who passed, and those who have been rebirthed.

Water Dragons have immense control of water. Tales from sailors describe them riding typhoons andhurricanes with Wind Dragons. Aswell as waterspouts they can "climb" too. They perhaps have one of the strongest Elemental Breaths as it can cut through Ice and Rock easily with the immense pressure they can put out. Just like Earth Dragons and Firstbourne, who can tap into magma/lava blasts, Water Dragons can tap into ice and extend their control over it, albeit their ice is weaker than true Ice Dragons. Physically, they are far from weak, able to constrict around victims and apply brutal pressure. They can also cut them apart with razor-sharp scales that line their tails.

In comparison to most, Water Dragons have the best night vision across all the Primordials Dragons of the First Realm. Only second to them is the Ice Dragon and the Wind Dragon.

Water Dragons shared the same fate as Wind Dragons during the Oni and Dragon war, targeted for their control of the water. The Sentinel of Water, Current, was slain only some days after Squall, the Sentinel of Wind. However, Currents Elemental Essence would shatter in two from a vicious blow dealt by the Oni Warlord named Hollow. It would then somehow find its way to another realm past the Ethereal Divide, where it would find a soul it deemed worthy.

Nyad, and then after her, Maya followed by her daughter, Nya. The shattered Elemental Essence refused to remain still, refusing to become part of only the sea and driven mad.

Many are unsure of Water Dragons even exist outside of the First Realm despite there being possible connections to the Never Realm as there have been no traces of them throughout history post Oni and Dragon war save for Mala-Wohira's tale.

The only known Water Dragon is Nya, after all.

[lady-raidia]

To my dear Syrena.

Helloooo lovelies! :) I know, I know I still have some other thins I should continue writing but I couldn't ignore my urge to write this Young!Elendil x MermaidxOC One-Shot. I literally dreamed about it and hat to take the chance while my creativity level is still high! But before I talk to much: I hope you enjoy this little tale. :) I changed some bits especially regarding his children but this is more about the story rather than logic *cough*. I've got inspired by the song "Syrena" by Kiki Rockwell (you should definitely listen to it!).

TO MY DEAR SYRENA 🐚

Pairing: Young!Elendil x Mermaid!OC

Summary: Elendil only has one thing on his mind: His duty and the beauty of the ocean. One day, while he is out for a walk he encounters a creature, that will change him forever. A love so sweet and bitter.

Warnings: Perhaps a bit angsty to some!

Song: Syrena - Kiki Rockwell

Tie me up, strike me down

To my dear Syrena, damned my soul be bound.

It was a perfect morning – the kind where the air smelled of salt and the sky stretched endless and blue. The sea was restless and wild, still trying to calm down after a stormy night. Elendil enjoyed these mornings after a rough night, it helps to clear his mind and soul. The cool breeze tugged at his hair, and the sound of waves crashing against the sand soothed the weight of his worries. Command and duty were heavy burdens, but here, on the beach with only him and the ocean in front of him, he could find peace.

Yet, that peace was broken by an unusual sight.

A figure, half-buried in the wet sand, lay motionless on the shore, the waves crashing against the lifeless person. Elendil’s heart raced faster as he approached, unsure of what he was seeing. “A woman!” He gasped but as soon as he stepped next to her, his breath catched in his throat. Her golden hair was wet, spreading down her upper body. Her face was as if the Valar themselves carved it. But what truly caught his attention was the tail that was attached to her body. Where legs should have been, shimmering scales caught the sunlight, leading down to a tail curled beside her, water still dripping from its silvery fins. He had heard the legends, whispers among sailors of creatures who lived beneath the waves, their voices a siren song to men.

But no tale had prepared him for this.

“A mermaid,” Elendil breathed, incredulous. For a moment, he simply stood there, frozen, disbelief holding him in place. But as he watched her, her eyes closed, something within him moved him forward. Perhaps compassion? Or did her sight already lure him into his wet grave? He kneeled beside her, gently brushing her golden hair away from her face. She was clearly exhausted. Her breathing was shallow, and her eyelids fluttered as if caught between waking and sleep. The storm from the previous night must have swept her ashore, separating her from her world under the oceans surface.

“Are … you alright?” he asked quietly, his voice catching in the sea breeze. His hand hovered near her shoulder, unsure if he should touch her.

"Where ... am I?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. When she opened her eyes, it seemed like she was staring into Elendil's very soul. They were a piercing blue, the colour of the ocean where it is the deepest. They locked with his, and for a brief second, he felt like he was being pulled into the sea itself.

“You’re on the shores of Numenor.” He replied, his tone gentle as he tried to keep his nerves down. “I found you after the storm. What happened to you?”

Her brow furrowed as she looked at the sea as if searching for something. “I … there was a storm, yes,” she said slowly. “The currents were too strong. I was caught in them and I couldn’t find my way back. I was so tired that I needed to rest.” Her voice was melodic like the hum of a lullaby carried on the wind.

“You are safe to rest here,” Elendil assured her, feeling an unexpected protectiveness rise within him. “But you should return to the sea as soon as possible.”

“Not yet,” she murmured, their eyes meeting again. “I want to stay a little longer. I have never seen the world of men up close.”

Elendil hesitated, sensing a curiosity in her that mirrored his own. He had seen many strange things in his life, but none so wondrous as this. Against his better judgment, he sat beside her on the sand, letting the waves crush against his feet.

“My name is Elendil,” he said after a moment, watching her carefully. “What’s yours?”

“Syrena.”, she answered softly, her name rolling off her tongue like the waves around them. The name echoed in his mind as if he had heard it in some forgotten dream. “I have watched men from the ocean before. But I have never spoken to one.”

“You’ve watched us?” Elendil asked, smiling slightly despite the strangeness of the situation.

Syrena nodded, a bright smile on her lips. “You live such … fascinating lives. So many things I don’t understand. I’ve always wanted to know more.”

“And your world is not fascinating?”

“The ocean is beautiful, but it is endless,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness. “It can be lonely, even for one such as I.”

Their conversation flowed naturally as if the storm and the strange circumstance of their meeting had broken through all barriers. Syrena asked him questions about Numenor, about its people, its cities, its customs. Elendil answered patiently, finding her wonder for his world endearing and contagious. He, in turn, asked about the sea – its mysteries, the places only she had seen. And as the sun lowered, casting golden light across the horizon, they found themselves lost in each other’s company.

Before the tide rose too high, Elendil helped her back into the water. "Will I see you again?" he asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it.

Syrena smiled softly. "Perhaps," she said, her eyes twinkling like stars on the water. "If you come back to the shore... I’ll be close by."

Over the next few days, when Elendil returned to the beach, Syrena would be there waiting for him. As if an invisible string pulled them to each other.  

He found himself drawn to her more with each passing day. There was something captivating about her—a wildness, a freedom that called to a part of him he hadn’t known was within him. And in return, she seemed fascinated by him, by the world of men, by his stories of Númenor. By the man who was sitting next to her.

One night, weeks after their first meeting, Elendil strolled down the beach as he always did, expecting to find Syrena waiting for him. Instead, his heart dropped at the sight before him. She was lying in the sand, but this time, something was different. Syrena was no longer a mermaid – she was a woman. Her tail had vanished, replacing long, slender legs. She lay unconscious, the moonlight hovering over her naked body. Panic gripped Elendil’s chest. He rushed to her side, kneeling beside her as he shook her gently. “Syrena?” he whispered, shaking her gently. “Syrena, wake up!”

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. Confusion filled them, but when she looked down at herself, a gasp escaped her lips. "Elendil..." she whispered, her hand trembling as it reached toward him. "I—what happened?"

Elendil looked at her, overwhelmed by this situation. “I don’t know. Your legs … how is this possible?”

A tear slipped down her cheek as she smiled, eyes glancing up at the moon, remembering what she had whispered yesterday. “I wished for this,” she said softly. “I wanted to be with you, Elendil. To walk among your people, to see your world as you do. I prayed to the moon …  and it must have heard my prayers.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Elendil felt his heart swell with emotions he could barely contain. She had wished for this—for him. Carefully, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

“You’re here,” he whispered into her hair. “And that’s all that matters.”

After that night, their love blossomed and the two of them shared a happiness that Elendil had never thought possible. By his side, she explored Numenor, her fascination with the human world growing even stronger. She learned the ways of his people, how they behaved and spoke and also how precious the warmth of human touch felt like.

They spent their days in laughter, their nights under the stars. Elendil found himself in love—truly, deeply, for the first time. He would watch her dance in the moonlight, her movements fluid and graceful, like the tides themselves. She was everything he had ever longed for but never known.

“Teach me how to love,” she had once whispered to him, lying beside him as they watched the stars. “Teach me to love like a human.”

He kissed her then, a gentle promise on his lips. “You already know.” he had replied, their fingers intertwined.

For a while, it seemed they had found their happiness. For years even. They loved each other passionately, married like it is custom amongst humans and Syrena even gave birth to two wonderful children.

But even in the joy, Elendil sensed something lingering, a quiet sadness in Syrena’s eyes that she tried to hide.

The change was subtle at first. Syrena’s laughter grew quieter, and her gazes out to sea grew longer. At night, Elendil would wake to find her standing at the shore, staring into the distance as if listening for something only she could hear.

And one night, it all became too much.

Elendil awoke alone, the sheets cold beside him. His heart raced, and without thinking, he rushed to the beach, his worst fear clawing at his mind. There, standing in the shallow waves, was Syrena, her feet in the water, her eyes filled with tears.

“Syrena?” he called, his voice breaking as he approached her.

She turned to him, her gaze heavy with sorrow. “I’m sorry, Elendil” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I thought I could stay. I thought I could belong here... with you. But I will always be of the sea.”

His throat tightened. “You do belong here, with me,” he said, stepping closer. “We’ve built a life together.”

She shook her head, tears falling freely now. “I will always love you, Elendil.”

“Syrena, please –“ Tears ran down his face while his heart slowly shattered inside his chest.

He reached for her, desperation in his heart, but she stepped back into the waves. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her voice almost lost in the wind.

And before he could stop her, Syrena disappeared beneath the water, leaving nothing behind but the sound of the ocean and a man whose heart died a tragic death.

She never returned. The days stretched into weeks, then months, but the sea remained silent. Every day, Elendil walked the beach, hoping for a glimpse of her golden hair, a shimmer of silver scales, but she was gone.

All that remained was the memory of her touch, her laughter, and the love they had shared.

And though the ocean had claimed her once more, Elendil knew he would always be bound to her, his soul forever tied to the woman who had captured his heart and vanished with the sea.

Drink my blood, break my bones

This grave will fit me better than your landlocked home. THE END. Authors Note: I am still thinking of writing a part two where Elendil is older, his children are adults, and meets Syrena again. Just let me know if you would be interested in a more happier ending. :D

[allisonreader]

This is something that I found in my email drafts. It's a possible way that Margaret and George Piston met.

Mostly just some dialogue without much else.

( @enjoliquej you might like this since it's Nanna when she's just a young thing, but still full of sass and not afraid to call it as it is. Which her future husband fully appreciates.)

"If you’re from old money, you best move along. Don’t want your heart broken from a new money temptress. Since it’s quite the taboo for old money to mix with new. Unless it’s to save the old money name from debt. Am I wrong?" Margaret

"You are not. In most cases that is quite true. Though I don’t believe I’ve ever heard it phrased so directly. It’s refreshing to hear it so plainly and truthfully spoken about. I tire of the old money politics. Though I have grown up in them. Marrying into money is the lazy way to go about making money. Hard work and investments are a much more secure and long lasting in gaining such." George

"Tsk, tsk. What a scolding my teachers would give us. We haven’t introduced ourselves and we are speaking of money. The only thing worse to be talking about, would be in-depth business or politics." Margaret

"We should rectify that then. Piston, George Piston, at your service Miss..."

"Margaret. Margaret Baker."

"Well then Miss Margaret Baker, might I claim a dance this evening? Or is your dance card full."

"I believe that I might have space for you on it yet..."

oOo

"Miss Baker."

"Mr. Piston."

"Have you been having a good night so far?"

"It- has been an interesting experience so far. Seeing that this is my first time at such an event."

"How lucky I am to snag a dance with you on your debut today. These tend to get tiring quickly."

"And just how many of these have you been to already to find them so tiresome?"

"Since I was 18, of course."

"That hardly tells me anything, seeing as I don’t know how old you are."

...

"I’ve haven’t even been new money for half my life yet... though I have gone to the proper finishing school." Margaret

"You would never know that you haven’t grown up in money." George

[inklings-challenge]

Inklings Archive Dive: 2021 Time Travel

Welcome to the Inklings Archive Dive! Today, we’re exploring the time travel stories written by the members of Team Tolkien during the very first Inklings Challenge. In 2021, writers used at least one of the following seven Christian themes in their stories: Incarnation, Stewardship, Sacrifice, Humility, Grace, Mystery, and Reconciliation. If you’d like to read some of the stories you might have missed, or revisit any favorites, you can check them out with the links below.

2021 Team Tolkien Time Travel Stories

Escape by @ashknife

Fishers of Time by @secret–psalms–saturn (unfinished)

From the Roots to the Leaves by @why-bless-your-heart

Inklings Challenge Story by @alana-k-asby (unfinished): First Act

Rewind by @rockinlibrarian

Tales of a Frozen Sailor by @allisonreader: Masterlist, The Letter, The Book, The Search, The Autopsy, The Donors, The Tour Turned, Challenging the Way, The Interview, Ruth Winters nee Hudson, Story Facts, Snippets, Of Rainbow Portals, A Timely Event, Jessica’s Overview, The Reunion, The Visit, Another Letter, Lost at Home, What Nanna Can Do, A Morning Walk, A Hard Decision, Ruth’s Worries, Her Chest of Letters, Final Wrap-up

The Untethering by @afairmaiden

WatchFaces by @awesomebutunpractical (unfinished)

If you read and enjoy, let the author know with a reblog or a comment! Now go forth and read!

[goblin-enjoyer]

The info n' lore i got on my custom space marine chapter at the moment.

The Carcinisers (Carcinisation + colonisers, it will be evident why they are called this very soon) are a salamanders successor chapter. their armor is light orange with blue lenses and shoulderpads with a bluey-green trim. Their fists and boots are a light blue with the soles of the boots being the same bluey-green as the trim of their aquilas and shoulderpads. their symbol is a spider crab facing upward. squad leaders have bluey-green helmets. I will get onto the specifics of specific marine types after telling the tale of how they were founded and the planet [that i do not have a name for yet] history. [planet i have yet to name] is a oceanic planet with two moons. the landmasses on there range from temperate forests, orange deserts of ancient water worn sand and rock and the occasional ice cap and 'berg. long ago during humanities early expansionary history the planet was a science facility/farm for various earth crustaceans brought and cloned on mass. where they then outcompeted all the native alien fauna. then you know, the age of strife happens and everyone gets stuck there and the planet gets forgotten about until the emperor does his great crusade(?) thing where the emperor subsequently finds it swarming with crabs and slightly crablike people (slightly harder skin in older people,harder nails and skin color a bit more leaning on grey,orange,red along with the normal human colors.) the people welcome the imperiums technology wholesale, being the descendants of scientists,doctors and crab farmers. The people of [planet i have yet to name] prepare are large feast for their saviors, divers diving/dying in droves to collect a giant crustacean of legend from the sunken ruins of the first facility ever placed on the planet. at the start of the feast, as tradition, they offer the emperor the ancient shellfish live for him to kill it himself, as tradition dictates. it proceeds to use its ANCIENT CLAWS OF GREAT POWER AND HISTORY to pinch the emperor's nose. the people all collectively are filled with terror and assume that they will all be killed and their planet destroyed for their disgrace of this higher power. the emperor laughs this off and makes a whole big speech about the power of life from terra, he mostly meant for them to take away the whole "humanity number 1" shtick, which they did. they also took this as the power of crabs and such. the emperor ends his trip to this world with stating his appreciation of the perseverance of ancient terra animals once thought long extinct and the high amount of food production the planet creates. they get designated as a "high-class food production and research planet" and then proceed to get forgotten about again, only getting recontion every few thousand years or so when someone from the inquisition "rediscovers" the planet after remembering about that really nice holy terran animal that they sometimes eat. Later during the ultima founding some paperwork got mixed up and a vessel containing the materials,wargear and geneseed and such got stuck in a warp storm. warp things happened and the vessel was found frozen in a massive iceberg by sailors where it was brought to the mainland and deemed a sign from the god emperor to spread the most holy of creatures from terra to other planets, human and crustation both included. So threw study of their servitors,data banks and stories of old they started "The Great Carcinisation Project" halfway threw this the inquisitor's responsible found out this blunder and quickly and with much debate, made the Carcinisers an official chapter. mostly because they were very embarrassed about the whole affair and did not want to be executed or worse for their mistake. so they had some priests bless the whole thing and they went with their "gift from the emperor so that they may spread their crab-craft, their crabft if you will, to other planets. thus The Carcinisers Adeptus Astartes chapter was formed. reflecting on their planets rich scientist and doctor history, The Carcinisers have a larger than average amount of apothecaries in their ranks.->

[inklings-sprint]

Brainstorm With Me!

(Thoughts and opinions welcome)

I have two stories that both have excellent vibes but not much else going for them currently. Aka I don’t know currently how to turn the vibes into actual story.

Characters? Three for the one story, maybe five for the other, but beyond that I know nothing about the characters in the grand scheme. For the Space Bards one of the three characters plays something like a mandolin or maybe a hurdy-gurdy, something stringed. (Though maybe I’m really thinking of a lute… I just like the name of mandolin better because lute sounds near identical to Flute, though they’re completely different instruments. I did used to play the flute.…) But beyond that the characters are these hazy beings I know must be there but don’t know who they are or what their personalities are. What their names might be or what they look like.

Though for my other story VCCS, I’m starting to wonder if it might also have some almost Jack and the Beanstalk vibes which might help if the main/lead character is a Jack type figure… hmmm…. I might actually have something there… vaguely…

For the space bards (Team Lewis) I have considered doing their story in poem form of sorts. I had this rather complex idea that each individual bard tells their part of the story in differing poem styles to a degree. Like one would be doing an A B C D A B C D rhyming pattern, another doing an A A A A pattern and so on, but I’m not sure that I actually want to continue with that. I vaguely feel like the theme comfort the sorrowful would work best for this one, that these bards travel the great distances of space to bring people comfort through their performances of music and stories.

VCCS is actually originally my Team Chesterton technology idea. VCCS stands for Vector Climate Control System, which is supposed to help control the climate of the world. Originally it was going to be this brand new thing that would rather quickly show its failings and make a mess of things due to politics. Now I’m kind of thinking that this story happens after the System is shut down, but is causing trouble, so a group of people have to travel to the part that’s causing the issues to properly shut it down. I’m thinking steam punk dystopian, with some climbing which would give the Jack and the Beanstalk vibes. Not quite sure which of the themes would fit in with it, but that’s what I’ve got currently.

My new Team Chesterton idea is much simpler and would actually tie into Tales Of A Frozen Sailor, but wouldn’t directly tie into the time travel aspect at all, and instead would focus on Jessica teaching Erik how to sail. It would be a very easy little one shot, it would just be the matter of writing it.

I already have my ideas and stories formed for Team Tolkien and mostly written out, so they’re fine and both might actually get posted if I land on Team Tolkien. (Though they both might get posted later anyways.)

[allisonreader]

The second last chapter just about leaves me in tears. But the last chapter just leaves my heart full. And that is the end of my reread of Hard Enough Left. I wish there was more that I could say. I'm glad there's still other one shots and short arcs to read, but this story here, has meant so much to me over the last fews years. Ever since it was first being posted, to it's last chapter, to my numerous times that I've reread it. Both with this story and Life's Highway, I've gained a wonderful friend who is very dear to my heart, though we've still never had the chance to meet in person. I hope that you see this series of reblogs as a love letter to your story. I'm so very grateful for having been there right along side you, with every early peek and discussing character names and my love of your original characters, like Joe Moore, Emily Piston, and Ruth Hudson. Thank you for sharing them and letting me borrow them for my own story purposes. And clearly this story makes me extremely sentimental.

My last large art piece. This thing has 40+ hours behind it and just gets buried in the void. 😢