#the crown made of sunlight or snakes

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Undersea Marauder.

There are so many rules in this world. So many shackles to keep him down.

Let nothing obstruct his errant path.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

A fish is bound to the water his entire life.

It’s not a life for him.

Floyd is on his back, set adrift in the face of the Coral Sea. His hands cradle the back of his head, and he finds himself staring up. A flock of birds form an arrow, slicing through the sky. He wonders where they're going, what they'll do there.

Some merpeople dreamed of trading scales for skin, but Floyd thinks about giving up his fins for feathers. A pair of wings with which to witness all manner of strange things…

He chuckles soft.

Wouldn't that be so freeing?

“Eheheh. I wanna try it, too! Wait up for me, birds. Here I come…!”

Floyd rights himself and dives unto the frigid waters. His powerful tail undulates like a teal ribbon, propelling him after and faster. He steadily gains, chasing the shadows of the birds that skim the surface of his home turf.

Floyd approaches, lifting himself toward the shimmering boundary between sea and sky. A second later, he breaks through with a mighty splash.

His body elegantly arcs in the leap. He’s a skipping dolphin, a flying fish.

Free.

Floyd launches higher and higher, zipping past the flock. He collides with some birds, screeching with laughter as they spin like cars out of control.

Here come the clouds now—he easily bursts through them. They’re made of cool and fine-grained beads of water, refreshing him as he flies.

And higher still he goes, the sky dimming, a gradient of light to dark.

Floyd is among the stars, each twinkling like diamonds in greeting. The planets, like massive globes of sugar orbiting him.

The eel is weightless, effortlessly floating through space. With his arms, he paddles--and though there should be no gravity, the space warps and gives like water, letting him sail as smoothly as a ship after a storm.

He reaches out and plucks a star out of the cosmos, giving it a curious lick. The taste is like sweetened milk, and so he pops the entire thing into his mouth.

Then begins his descent.

At the peak of his jump, surrounded by the stars, he bends downward and plunges.

But there are no longer any waters waiting for him.

He crashes through a canopy of leaves. They scatter like papers, raining down verdant, brown, scarlet, tangerine, and gold. Sunlight pierces them, giving each a magical glow.

Roots come, skittering by him like a snake might slink. Thin tendrils extend from them, brushing his face.

Maybe there is some other name for them? Hyph-something, myce-whatever. Floyd does not care to remember his twin's excitable rambling.

Alarmingly, he spies an ugly bulbous cap poking out from a root. His nose crinkles with disgust.

Shiitake mushroom.

Floyd paddles through the fungi and plants, the scent of dirt and chlorophyll filling his nostrils. It's fresh and green mixed with damp and earthy, nothing like the salty smell of the sea.

Jade would like this, he thinks.

Daisies push through, their petals tickling his skin. He takes a shaky breath, holds, shakes again, and...

Sneezes!!

A great gale is unleashed, clearing his surroundings in an instant. Floyd is sent flying up, up, and away--

He shoots out of the dunes. Sand scatters from the force he emerges with, throwing particle clouds up into the air. Floyd flails, trying to balance his body. No use--he flops uselessly under the pull of gravity.

A scream rips from his throat. Not of terror, but of joy.

The landscape unfolds into a sandy expanse. In the distance, he sees an oasis guarded by palm trees. And below, a great city crowning the desert.

There are bright tents and stalls pitched, merchants hawking their wares. Vases and lamps with unique patterns, ripe fruits, adornments in a variety of designs.

Families and friends mill about in the packed marketplace, satisfied with their mundane lives, the schedules they keep. So content, so peaceful.

Floyd grins.

And he lets himself plummet straight into a stall.

The weight of him collapses it with a loud THUD. The merchant looks on, horrified, and his circle of customers gasp, putting distance between themselves and Floyd. Sticky with fruit juices, he removes the strand of black hair that clings to his cheek.

"Eh, guess it could be worse," Floyd shrugs, tossing off a chunk of watermelon sitting like a hat on his head. A line of juice dribbles down his forehead.

He notices the crowd staring and wiggles his tail in a casual pseudo-wave. One person immediately faints--but luckily, they're caught by a concerned onlooker.

"Riffraff!" the merchant shouts, waving a fist. "Scoundrel!! I demand compensation for what you've wrecked!"

Floyd rolls his eyes. He sounds like Azul.

The eel hauls himself off the pile of fruit--and peels right past the feet of the customers. The merchant's face heats.

"Guards! GUARDS!! Come quickly, HELP!! There's a sea monster on the loose!!"

Floyd rapidly drags himself across the market, digging his talons into the ground, his tail pushing him forward. He gleefully writhes as people scream and flee, clearing a path for him. His laugh, cackling.

He's at the waterways that thread the city when heavy footsteps spill into the street.

"He went that way!!"

Floyd doesn't look back before he dives back into his natural element.

The water welcomes him, its streams washing off the sand that paints his skin, loosening the hair that clumped from fruit juices. A tender kiss, a kind hand.

He has returned to the sea.

The channel goes deeper than Floyd thinks. It widens, becoming an entire ocean bathed in sunlight. A coral reef teeming with life stretched out below him, and when he runs his hand along it, tiny seahorses escape and trail bubbles.

He turns his head this way--a school of rainbow tropical fish race by. The other way, a band is in full swing. A carp on the harp, the plaice on the bass, bass on brass.

Floyd twirls as he passes, happily humming along to the tune. The music wraps around him, giving a warm embrace. He almost misses his name being called, almost forgets himself.

"... od....... loyd... Floyd! There you are."

A face that matches his appears beside him. He is followed by a boy with lilac skin, a series of squirming tentacles at his beck and call.

“Where did you vanish off to?” Jade asks. “Azul and I were starting to get worried about your whereabouts. Weren’t we, Azul?”

“I’m more concerned for the places he visits rather than Floyd himself. Who knows how much collateral damage he could cause unsupervised,” the octopus merman grumbles.

“Oya, Azul… Could it be that you lack faith in Floyd? Even though he has unquestionably served you since middle school?"

"You're saying strange things again. I recall him losing interest and changing his mind last minute more often than 'unquestionably serving'." Azul raises a brow. "So? Where were you all this time?"

Floyd flings himself at the duo, slinging his arms around their shoulders and pulling them close.

"F-Floyd?! What is the meaning of this?" Azul sputters, struggling against his binds.

"I was everything and everywhere all at once," he responds with a laugh. "I was as free as a bird! I'll tell you guys about it~"

"Fufu, it sounds as though you've been away on quite an adventure. We would, of course, be more than happy to hear of your escapades."

[some-bunniii]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 A crown for a princess

[by helloruirui on tumblr, colored by me]

Just my OC Kokabiel and her daughter making some pretty crowns.

I’ve had this scene written in my drafts about these two for a bit now, so I commissioned this nice piece as a visualization for it. Read more under the snippet!

Spring is the season when nature finally begins to breathe again. The animals awaken from their deep slumber, and the wildflowers begin anew and rise from the soil like a phoenix from the ashes.

Nestled deep into the mountains, far from the bustling human civilizations, was a lush forest not too far from a small, homey village.

Large swathes of open meadows snaked across the lush woodland, which was dappled with sunlight that managed to squeeze through the thick canopy of leaves.

Bright yellow flowers dotted the warmly lit grassy expanse. They danced along with the gentle breeze that whistled a natural tune as it blew through the clearing.

Small fingers wrapped around the stem of a dandelion, pulling it from the ground and lifting it towards a small girl’s nose.

She looked no older than seven, dressed in a dark blue tunic. Her rich, brown skin stood out from the greenery around her, and those tight, white braids that bounced across her shoulders were equally perplexing.

After inhaling the flora’s scent, the young child lifted another object into view. Stems of weeds and other wildflowers, intricately braided together to create a wreath-like adornment.

With careful fingers, she wove the dandelion into the braided stems, its yellow flower joining the array of colors of other blooming plants in her grasp.

She inspected the object in her hands, testing it for weakness. After feeling satisfied with her work, she turned towards the middle of the clearing and rushed off.

“Mama, Mama! Look!” The girl called, running toward a young woman sunbathing against a stump, her eyes closed and head upturned towards the sky as she drank in the warmth of the afternoon.

Her appearance was almost identical to the child’s, with the same deep, brown skin and long, white hair. Her hair was braided into thick locs that flowed down her back and reached the grass beneath her bare feet.

Freckles of white were sprinkled across her cheeks like starlight, hardly visible against the suns bright rays. Her eyes void of color, black like the sky during a new moon. A stark contrast to the woman’s ghostly white pupils, like twin moons shining from her gaze.

The golden halo that levitated just above her forehead shimmered in a warm, ethereal light.

An angel, sent down to take disguise and watch over the human’s constantly expanding population. A watcher, her superiors called it.

Kokabiel had been assigned a small village in the mountains, far from the bustling communities and away from watchful, angelic eyes that tracked her fellow watcher’s every moment.

She had kept her identity a secret, carefully crafted to hide her otherworldly appearance.

That didn’t stop the young girl from telling the village children that her mother came from the stars, but they never believed her.

Kokabiel’s eyelids fluttered open, her gaze shifting to follow her daughter’s approach as she straightened against the stump of an ancient, forgotten oak.

She shifted to sit on her knees as her daughter reached the flattened clearing of grass, the braided wreath tight in her little hands as she came to sit beside her mother.

“Look! I made a halo, just like yours!” She hovered the wreath just above her head, as if it was floating in midair, “Now, I can come along when you go back to Heaven.”

A soft chuckle escaped the angel’s lips, as she tilted her head at the display.

The child was too innocent to know, too naive to understand that the heavenly light above shined with such malevolence toward her existence.

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that, my love,” She shook her head with a smile.

The young girl visibly deflated, a frown etching onto her features as she sighed. The wildflower arrangement began to lower to the ground, before another set of hands reached out and gently grasped around the wreath.

“But, I think…” Kokabiel started, lifting it delicately above the girl’s head, before lowering it snug around her forehead, “You’d look much better as a princess, anyway.”

The soft settles tickled the girl’s forehead, and she giggled softly at sensation as gentle hands continued to adjust the crown.

“There, doesn’t that look much nicer?” Kokabiel nodded approvingly, lowering her hand from the crown to stroke her daughter’s cheek lovingly.

That smile brightened on the girl’s face, who then fell slowly against the grass. She stared up at the clouds that passed above the large forest, and Kokabiel settled against the stump once more.

“Will you take me flying tonight?” The girl spoke after a few moments, placing her palms together in a praying motion, as she pleaded through her gaze.

“I don’t see why not,” her mother shrugged in response.

That earned gleeful noises from her daughter, who pivoted to lay on her stomach and rest her chin against her hands.

“Oh, I wish I had wings like yours. That way, I could fly with you wherever you go, even back up there!”

“Oh, my little star,” the woman purred, lifting a hand to wipe away a small smudge of dirt from the child’s face, “You won’t ever need wings, because i’ll always be down here, with you.”

“You mean like forever?” The girl whispered with building glee, leaning in closer with a small smile, “You promise?”

“Of course! A century would pass and I would still be here to sing you to sleep,” Kokabiel nodded with a large smile, before her fingers wrapped around her daughter’s forearms and pulled her flush into the warmth of her chest.

“Mama, my crown!” The little girl gasped, pushing away from the woman to adjust the lopsided weave of stems back snugly onto her head.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” The angel moaned dramatically, clutching her chest, before a wicked grin graced her features, “I only wanted to… tickle the princess’s feet!”

Gripping her daughter’s ankle, Kokabiel lifted it into the air. Her nails skimmed across the sensitive skin at the bottom of the girl’s foot, who convulsed with laughter as she tried to playfully fight off her mother’s attack.

Deep in the meadow, the two would spend hours of bliss in each other’s company, unaware of the face hidden among the tall branches of the surrounding tree line.

Their halo shimmered against the darkness of the woods, and after a few moments, a pair of large, white wings extended across the canopy. It only took a few moments for them to lift into the air, and shoot off into the sky to report back to their heavenly superiors.

Oh, if only they could have known how easily a century on Earth could turn into an eternity in Hell.

Do you think, if the two have sworn through pinkies, that their promise could have outlived Heaven’s wrath?

*‘deep in the meadow’ starts to play*

Angelic kokabiel reveal, who still holds the same grace but lacks the snakes.

i’ve been working on more lore for koko, and developing some original concepts regarding heaven/hell/biblical stuff.

I think her daughters name is going to be Calliope, it’s a name that sticks in my brain for some reason but i’ve been trying to name along with the theme of stars/space, but can’t find anything that I like.

she is also a nephilim (mix of human and angel) and that’s a big no no to Heaven

i’ve got more little snippets + some more art of these guys hidden in my drafts that i may share down the road. but take another sketch of her pre-fallen!

[by hachii_ro on twt]

[mysticarts]

♤ The Moutain of Water ♤ A LMK MINI FANFIC

(AKA, how Hui and Tai met Shuimu)

(Note: this takes place during the first season of LMK!)

"Wait, why are we here again?" Hui Ying asked, following her brother, Tai, as they walked through a empty and freezing cave, the sound of a waterfall being apparent.

"Auntie Yujin said that there was a power energy of a demon God here. We're investigating it" Tai answered casually, still walking throughout the mountain, observing its surroundings.

There was few trees on the surface, letting the shining sunlight through. However despite the sunlight being present in the mountain, there was a sense of lost hope and sadness that hung throughout the air of the mountain. As there was no animals, or grass. Just plain stone

"Oddly enough, I can't sense any demons around here yet" Tai commented, putting his hands into his jacket pockets.

Hui Ying sighed. "Atleast this made us go outside! It's healthy for us...." Hui Ying then decided to walk towards the noises of the water fall, her steps echoing throughout the mountain.

As hui Ying got closer to the waterfall noise, she stopped in her tracks when she saw almost a curtain made out of leaves, surrounding the curtain where two stone pillars, having a symbol of ocean waves.

Hui Ying walked up too one of the pillars, observing it before taking out her camera from her bag and taking a picture of it. When the photo came out of the camera, Hui Ying took the photo and waved it side to side before putting it away in her bag.

"Hey, Tai, I found something over here!" Hui Ying called out, getting the attention of her brother.

"What is it?" Tai asked walking to over hui Ying was, only to freeze in his tracks when he saw the two stone pillars with the leaf curtain. Tai's expression quickly turned from relaxed to cautious.

"Let's be careful. Something like this here may imply someone was or lives here...." Tai stated, quickly making a trident out of light before going through the leaf curtain, with Hui Ying following behind.

When Tai and Hui Ying walked through the leaf curtain, it only revealed a waterfall. They where behind the waterfall. The room was only illuminated by the light coming from the water fall. Yet, even though it was just a simple waterfall they where behind, the air of sadness and dread increased.

"Huh.....nothing" Hui Ying commented, looking around as she rubbed her arms in discomfort.

"No, not nothing.....something Is here. We just need to unlock it" Tai corrected, still looking at the waterfall. Tai turned his trident made out of light to just an orb, and held it out in front of the water fall.

Hui Ying looked at Tai and nodded, taking a deep breath in and out. Unlike Tai, hui still wasn't as good with her powers yet since her past teachers told her that she wouldn't need to use them in her life. But this was the Mortal realm, not the Celestial one. With that, Hui Ying created a small blue orb of lighting, and held it out in front of the water fall aswell.

Suddenly, the orbs slowly turn into some kind of sigal design, with one of them being a lotus, and the other being a crown shaped headpiece, similar to the headpiece Wukon was known for. Slowly, the mountain began to shake as bubbling water then could be heard from the middle of the mountain.

"..alright maybe that wasn't such a good idea" Tai commented as he turned his head in the direction of the noise of bubbling water.

"You think!?" Hui Ying yelled in reply before running out of which she came, running towards the center of the mountain in panic.

When hui Ying at the center of a mountain, she saw a large snake creature, made out of water with perishing red eyes. At the end of the water snake's tail was blood red water. However, it was only moments before Tai shined a bright light in the Snake's eyes, letting it drop to the floor. Hui Ying snapped her head to Tai.

"Why the hell did you do that!?" Hui Ying asked

Tai rolled his eyes. "Easy, because that wasn't some Celestial creature, that's the form of a demon." Tai stated, pointing to where the snake had collapsed.

Hui Ying turned her head back to see a woman around Tai's age lay on the same spot the snake collapsed, the woman had torn up, raggedy clothes, with her black hair disheveled except some of it tied up in a bun.

"You.....we just unleashed a demon from their prison huh?" Hui Ying said, dread filling her voice as the dread and sadness in the air of the mountain started to clear.

"Yep. I'm surpsied that it needed two people to unlock her. She must have been a problem back then if two people where needed to seal this woman away" Tai replied indifferently. Tai knew more things about humans and Demons did than Hui Ying, and he always took pride In it.

The Woman on the floor then took a almost dramatic gasp of air as she quickly sat back up. The woman had long, white, tear drop like eyelashes with dark blue eyes. By the looks of it, the woman hasn't slept for centuries.

The Woman noticed Tai and Hui Ying and quickly backed away defensively into a corner, glaring at the both of them with contempt but also fear.

"Hey, calm down ma'am, we mean no harm...." Tai stated, his voice being gentler than it usually is in hopes to calm the disheveled woman down.

"Who are you two? And why....why can't I remember anything??....." The woman snapped back in reply, a sense of dread in her last words.

Hui Ying and Tai glanced at each other in worry before Hui Ying took a step forward.

"I'm hui Ying, and this is my brother Tai. We are the ones who kind of....unlocked you from....wherever you where...." Hui Ying explained slowly and gently, not wanting to scare her. "You said you can't remember anything. Do you need some help?-"

"Shuimu" The Woman stated, her body language slowly becoming calm as she stood back up.

"What?" Hui Ying asked in confusion

"My name is Shuimu"

Feel free to ask questions!

[beelzieweelzie]

Luci helped them pick their animals long before they fell.

For Mammon, he had been feeling worthless because he struggled to remember the name of their fathers newer creations. Some of his kin had called him dumb as a bird. So, Lucifer showed him the Crow. They watched as it picked up a walnut and dropped it over and over again, Mammon only thinking it proved how stupid the bird was, only for the nut to crack and the bird to eat. He saw how smart the bird was and his big brother helped him offer the crow a little silver gem. The bird remembered them a few weeks later when they returned. Mammon didn’t stop talking about it for several months.

For Levi he had been scared of the long scaled thing that slid towards him at the beach. He had screamed and jumped into his brothers arm. Lucifer showed him the creature was scared too and that while it could be dangerous, it was also beautiful and smooth to the touch. Levi held the snake until they were called home.

Asmo had felt insecure. He was beautiful and often praised, but people didn’t believe him when he said he could fight and had a quick mind. Lucifer has shown him an in set that was small and unthreatening, but gorgeous isn’t he way it shone. The drop like point of its tail was beautiful, like a crown held above its head. He let the scorpion stab into his hand to show his brother how dangerous it truely was. Asmo collected hundreds of them in a desert oasis.

Beel had been thinking about how slow he was to pick things up. He wasn’t upset about it, just confused. Why did he not get jokes his kin made when ever one else did? Lucifer had shown him the fly, small but quick and near impossible to catch. Beel hadn’t understood, until his brother explained that it was so quick, because it saw everything slower and had much more time to react. Beel had also noted the similarities in their wings and felt a strong connection the small, thousand armies creature.

Belphie had felt too big. He like the little humans and wanted to be around them, but even if he was allowed, he would surely hurt them with his strength. Lucifer showed him cattle, a life force for humans, but something that loved to lay about in sunlight and rest it’s massive weight into soft green meadows. It was large and could hurt humans with ease, but instead it helped them by giving them things to fill their needs all while peacefully living along side them.

Lilith had felt like she was wrong in some way. She felt pretty and colourful, but it was like something deep inside her was just a little different. Her love for the humans only made it grow. Lucifer showed her the butterfly, a delicate insect with bright wings and small little bodies. Together they watched it go to feed on the dried blood of a passed rabbit. Lilith had laughed and claimed she loved it. She had sighed dreamily and whispered into the air of their home, “I wish father would create some of the creatures the humans think up. If I could create something living and be friends with it, I’d want to meet a unicorn!”

Lucifer unknowingly gave five of his brothers their animals, one he made on his own, one he had chosen for him.

[apomaro-mellow]

Part 1

Steve was at least given the privilege of cleaning himself up and dressing before being brought before his father in his study.

"I thought I made it abundantly clear-"

"But I didn't go out in a ship", Steve said, quick to defend himself.

"Diving into rocks isn't what I would call a grand back up plan either!"

"I know how it looks, but-" SLAM

Steve stopped when his father's hand came down onto his desk and couldn't help but flinch.

"No, you don't know how it looks. To have the crown prince, first shirking his duties to go out to sea and then nearly drowning before the sun even rises. What it looks like is either you're trying to run away or end your life."

Steve shook his head but didn't speak. It wasn't either of those things. But how could he say what it really was? His father would have him locked up for trying to make contact with a sea creature.

"I've been too lenient. Given you too much freedom. Starting today, your studies and training will increase. And I will be attending as much as I can."

Well, that part didn't sound too bad...

"And you are to never go near that ocean again."

"That's-! How am I supposed to never go back?! We literally live on the shore."

"Those are my orders. You are dismissed."

"Father!"

"I said dismissed!"

Steve's fists clenched and he stood there for a moment, shaking, before bolting out. He slammed the door once he got to his room and flung himself onto the bed. Keeping him from something so close was a tall order, but he believed his father was capable of it. He was the king after all. He'd probably sooner shackle Steve to the bed then let him near a puddle now.

Through his sobs into his pillow, he almost didn't hear it. But there was an audible hissing nearby. He looked up to find he wasn't alone. There were two rather large snakes, coiling up in the middle of the room. Steve quickly grabbed the dagger under his pillow, ready to fight when the snakes began to speak in tandem.

"Don't act so brassshhh."

"We have come with a proposition from our massster."

"A....a what? Who is your master?", Steve asked, dagger still raised.

"He'sss been watching you and sympathizesss."

"He wants to help."

"It's what he doesss."

Steve was skeptical, but he was also running low on options. Even if his father let up, going to the ocean by boat or by cliff hadn't gotten him any closer to finding the owner of the voice.

"Okay, I'll meet with them and see what they have to say. Where are they?"

"Follow ussss."

They slithered through the room and towards the window that Steve realized was now open. They went out and down and when Steve looked out, he saw the vines that covered this side of the castle had grown thicker and more sturdy. Enough for him to climb down and follow the snakes. They took him through the thick of the wood, so dense that sunlight got weaker and weaker.

The snakes led him to a gave with red gemstones embedded into the walls, giving it a bright glow in the darkness. The light from the stones seemed to beat like heart.

Steve entered, but kept from touching them. They looked sharp as knives. They got to an opening at the cave that widened into what appeared to be a living space. And also a center for witchcraft. Steve saw someone moving about on the other side of the room, a clawed hand running across the spines of books on a shelf.

"Uh", Steve cleared his throat. "Hello? I-I was told that you could help me with my problem."

"Yes", the person turned to reveal a nose-less face. Strange vines, or where they tentacles? protruded from them. And Steve realized there were odd, moving vines all around. "Ah, the prince with the ocean obsession."

"It's not the ocean, really. It's-"

"The merman with the hypnotizing voice."

"Yes! But how did you-"

"It's my job to know. People have come from all corners of the world, pleading 'Vecna, I need this', or 'Vecna, I want a spell for this'. I'm very much a charity."

"So, you'll help me?"

Vecna moved around the room, grabbing various things with his vines as he did. "I will."

....."How?"

"You want to find him, don't you? I will give you a spell that will turn you into a merman for three days." Vecna began pouring the ingredients he had into a large cauldron in the middle of the room.

Three days didn't sound like a lot, but Steve was sure he'd know them as soon as he heard him speak. "Alright. Deal."

"Not quite. We need to discuss your payment."

Steve crossed his arms. "You said you were a charity."

"You can't get something for nothing."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Okay, what do you want?" As a prince, he had a little money to burn. And he'd pay any amount to meet his mystery guy.

He didn't feel the vines creeping up on him until he felt something tickling his ears. He cringed and slapped them away.

"Those."

"My ears."

"I require no flesh. What I want in exchange for my magic is your hearing."

Steve touched his ears. "But if I can't hear, how can I find him?"

"He's seen you, hasn't he? After he saved you? Let him find you. And true love is the strongest force in the world. I daresay you could find him deaf and blind. But I'm only asking for one sense. You find him, he confesses his love, and then you two can live out the rest of your lives in bliss."

It all sounded too good to be true. Which was what had Steve still hesitating.

"What happens in three days if I don't find him?"

Vecna pretended to look for another ingredient to toss in so that he could hide his expression from Steve. "If you don't, then you become one of my treasures. Vecna's claws made a clinking sound against the gems on the wall and then Steve understood why it seemed like they were beating like hearts. They were souls. Ones that couldn't come up with whatever sum was needed and paid with their lives.

If Steve didn't succeed, he would become one of them. But if he gave up now, that was all he would be in essence anyway. A shiny jewel in his father's crown. Even if he would be working against time and without the one sense he was sure of, he had to try.

So he nodded. And held out his hand for Vecna to shake. He swooped across the room like a shadow and grasped Steve's hand, then wrapped his vines around his body. It was a horrible sensation but Steve fought his instincts not to struggle. He was brought closer to the cauldron, bubbling and filling the room with a green vapor.

"I want you to focus on his song", Vecna said. "On the sound of his voice."

That wasn't hard to do. Even with leagues of water separating them, it had sounded beautiful. Last night when he heard them above water, it had been the sweetest sound. He closed his eyes and let himself get lost in it. When he opened it, the caludron looked seconds from exploding and Vecna was grinning, and all the vines around were slithering in excitement but he couldn't hear any bit of it.

As jarring as that was, what was happening below his waist was even more shocking. He only had time to see his pants begin to rip and the start of his legs fusing before the cauldron reached its tipping point and exploded. Steve himself was thrust into the air and he was afraid of hitting the roof of the cave. But he kept going higher and higher, through the trees until he was above even them.

And there it was. A mer's tail, in shimmering blue. He had but a moment to admire it when he felt himself fall back towards the ground. He had been shot right above the ocean and while it wasn't as bad as hitting rock, falling from that height had shocked his system.

He knew he had reached the ocean floor; could feel the sand under him. But he didn't fully come to until he felt someone strongly nudging him. He blinked his eyes only to come face to face with the most handsome man he had ever seen.

Part 3

[torpublishinggroup]

Is a Bat a Dragon? We Asked James Rollins

By now, Tor is at the forefront of research into what exactly constitutes "dragon." We've entertained many queries throughout the years, determining if the umbrella of dragon extends to hippos, snakes, and Godzilla. Now, we turn to the expertise of James Rollins to advise on the dragonic status of bats. If you've read The Starless Crown and its sequel The Cradle of Ice, you probably know the answer.

Check it out!

by James Rollins      

My love for the natural world and all its myriad creatures was one of my main drives for pursuing a career in veterinary medicine. Even today as a full-time writer, I’ve not fully stepped away from that profession. As I’ve stated many times during book talks—yes, I can still neuter a cat in under thirty seconds.

Still, my greatest fascination about Nature is how it adheres to a dictate stated so succinctly in Jurassic Park:  Life will find a way.  I’ve always been captivated by the manner in which animals and plants discover innovative survival strategies to fill different environmental niches and how that fight has resulted in all the marvels (and horrors) found in the natural world.

While growing up, I found a new way of exploring this subject matter:  in science fiction and fantasy novels set on different worlds. I found myself especially drawn to material that explored life’s resilience across fantastic worlds. Whether it was the sandworms of Herbert’s Dune, the engineered landscape of Niven’s Ringworld, the many species of Card’s Ender’s Game, or a universe of other writers tackling how life finds a way.

Even when it came to those novels that featured dragons, I found myself most interested in the biology and the circumstance of their origins. How did the telepathy and bonding in Anne McCaffrey’s Pern books come about? What steps were taken to harness the physicality of dragons to become warriors in Novik’s Temeraire series? In Martin’s books, could dragon eggs truly be encysted for ages and require fire to bring them back to life? If so, how and why?

When it came to crafting my own fantastic world in the Moonfall Saga, I took a similar scientific eye to its construction. The series takes place on a tidally locked planet, a world that circles its sun with one side forever facing the sun, the other locked in eternal darkness. The only truly livable clime is the band between those extremes of ice and fire. Across such a harsh and unforgiving landscape, I wanted to build a biosphere of flora and fauna that made evolutionary sense. How would species survive the extreme cold and lack of sunlight? Could life find a way in the sunblasted hemisphere?

And what about dragons?

In the novel, one of the apex predators is a species of massive bat, with a wingspan of ten meters or more. We first see them in Book One (The Starless Crown). They inhabit the vast swamplands of Mýr—found in that more temperate climate of the world. They are nocturnal, haunting a drowned forest and roosting in a volcanic mountain. I wanted those bats to make biological sense, to have them fit that environmental niche in a natural way. Being arboreal, they would likely have evolved prehensile tails. As nocturnal creatures, they would need bell-shaped ears and still use ultrasonics to navigate. And without giving away any of the surprises in the books, there is a significant aspect to their biology that will allow them to bond to certain people.

In the books, I also wanted to add a level of verisimilitude to the bestiary by adding naturalistic sketches, drawings that you might find in a turn-of-the-century research journal.

Here is the Mýr bat:

Keep in mind, life will find a way, so this species is not limited to those swamplands. A subspecies evolved in the dark, frozen half of the world. It adapted to fit that harsh niche, becoming smaller and stockier, with shaggy fur, and nasal flaps that could seal to conserve body heat. Likewise, in this treeless landscape, that prehensile tail would no longer be needed. They make an appearance in the second book in the series, The Cradle of Ice.

Here is their sketch:

But what about the title of this blog post: Is a bat a dragon?

In the third volume in the series (A Dragon of Black Glass), which will be coming out in 2024, this species has also adapted to the sunblasted half of the world. To survive, they would need to burrow to survive, growing larger claws for digging, and bodies that would be hairless and elongated, with fanned tails for aerial maneuvering when out of their burrows. They would become known as “sanddragons.”

Here is a sneak peek at their preliminary incarnation (with the final version still to come):

I must note that all of these drawings were beautifully executed by graphic artist, Danea Fidler—as were all the other creature sketches featured in the books. I look forward to sharing the final versions of these “dragons” in 2024 when A Dragon of Black Glass hits bookshelves.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Gwyndolin is the most important secret in Dark Souls

Gwyndolin might be the most interesting boss in Dark Souls. He is entirely optional, but as the last living god in Anor Londo it is also he who maintains the illusion of Gwynevere, and who maintains the lie of the prophecy of the Chosen Undead. When Gwynevere tells you are special, the only one who can become the next Great Lord and succeed Lord Gwyn, those words come from Gwyndolin.

He is the power behind the scenes, a secret manipulator in the shadows, and so, appropriately, he is identified with both snakes and tentacles. These are classic imagery of duplicitousness and manipulation, and even his boss fight is designed such that you are constantly chasing after an image of him - a mirage in an infinite hallway - that gets further away every time you get close.

Gwyndolin is also, interestingly, very feminine. He was raised as a daughter because he had powerful magical potential and was made to serve the role of Moon sorceror to the regime, and so appropriately he is dressed in white and silver, with a sunlight crown. The moon reflects the sun's light, you see, and so Gwyndolin is silver crowned in gold.

Of course a character who is born male, raised socially as a girl, and associated with the moon brings up a lot of Gender Themes, so we'll continue this discussion in part two.

Gwyndolin can be understood many ways, all of them interesting

Watch part one if you haven't, but Gwyndolin is a character who is, in the lore, "born a boy, but raised as a daughter" due to their exceptional connection to moon magic.

And there is something hashtag problematic about having a gender-nonconforming character also be a duplicitous behind-the-scenes illusionist manipulator with literal snake tentacles. "You are a liar and deceiver" is one of the most common transphobic attacks, and leave it to the Souls community to put "funny" messages outside their boss arena saying shit like "tr** ahead."

But on the other hand Gwyndolin can also be interpreted as an affirming character. She was "born male" as it were, but when her family discovered that her soul was connected with the moon - one of the most universal symbols of womanhood - they raised her as a daughter because that's who she is inside.

Or you can see it the other way, that Gwyndolin was born a boy in the metaphysical sense, that this who he is on the inside, but he was forced by a religious orthodoxy to act as a woman to prop up its hegemony and ritual, that he is in effect a trans man. From that perspective, the fact that he is hidden away in a dark tomb below Anor Londo could imply a measure of shame on the part of his family, that they hid him away because he did not conform. And there are no statues of Gwyndolin in Anor Londo.

Like everything else in Dark Souls, Gwyndolin's story is a matter of interpretation.

[disneymarina]

As the days pass, your mates shower you with affection, nicknames, and little gifts. The werewolf, being the dominant alpha he is, takes to calling you "Bitch" or "Breed" when he's in a particularly playful mood. He presents you with a handmade collar adorned with small, gleaming bones and a nameplate that reads "Alpha's Bitch" in bold, claw-scribed letters. He insists it will help you "stay in line" during your training sessions. The merman, ever the charmer, nicknames you "Sea Jewel" and "My Lovely Pearl." He crafts a beautiful, shimmering shell necklace just for you, its delicate strands woven from the iridescent shells of his merfolk kin. The naga dubs you "Mother of Serpents," "Ssssweetheart," and "Coil Me Up," her affectionate nicknames a constant reminder of her growing attachment to you. She gifts you a delicate, gemstone-encrusted snake scale brooch that she claims holds special properties for a soon-to-be mother. The lizardman, with his sneaky demeanor, takes to calling you "Princess," "Mmmmy," and "Lizard Love."

The werewolf smirks, his claws gently scratching your scalp as he whispers, "You'll be my little She-Wolf, always ready to rut and bare her teeth in pleasure. And as a special gift, I'll give you a necklace made from the finest wolf pelts, to symbolize your place as my loyal mate and breeding bitch."The merman's eyes sparkle with mirth as he proposes, "Ah, my sweet little Pearl! A treasure to be cherished and adorned with the most precious gems from the depths of the ocean. I'll present you with a delicate seashell tiara, to mark you as the queen of our underwater realm."The naga's voice drips with sensual promise as she suggests, "Mmm, how about Little Snake, my sassy, slithery mate? You'll slither through life with me by your side, entwined in pleasure and passion. As a gift, I'll adorn you with a stunning scale-patterned armband, to showcase our serpent-tailed legacy."The lizardman's tongue flicks out, tasting the air as he proposes his nickname, "A fine, feisty little Gecko, always climbing and clinging to her lovers."

The werewolf grins, his sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight. "Ah, Marina , I think I'll call you Lupina. It suits a good little breeder's bitch like yourself." He reaches into his fur-lined pouch and pulls out a beautifully crafted silver collar. "And to go with your new name, a little gift to mark you as mine. Put it on, my dear."The collar is adorned with intricate engravings of wolves and moons. The werewolf helps you fasten it around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin as he adjusts it. "There, much better. Now, every monster knows you're taken." He places a big, rough hand on your shoulder, his eyes burning with a possessive intensity.The merman smiles, his dolphin-like features shifting into a mischievous grin. "My dear Marina , from now on, you shall be known as Calypso. A name that captures the essence of your allure and charm." He produces a shimmering seashell necklace, the colors of the ocean itself. "To match your new name, my lovely. Wear it always, and know that I'll be singing your praises to all the merfolk. Our little merbabies will inherit the bounty of the seas."

The werewolf growls, "You'll be my little Luna, my moonlit mate, always glowing bright with our pack's life."The merman splashes excitedly, his tail flaring. "Of course, Marina , my love for you will be the sea's song, echoing through our merbabies' dreams. And as a token of our bond, I'll gift you this enchanted shell necklace, passed down through generations of merfolk. It will bring you calm and wisdom in times of need."The naga's coils tighten around you, her forked tongue flicking out to taste the air. "You shall be my Serpent Queen, ruling over our hybrid brood with regal grace. As a symbol of our union, I'll present you with this venom-tipped crown, said to enhance the strength and cunning of our offspring."The lizardman scurries closer, his forked tongue darting out. "For you, my coveted prize, I'll dub you the Lizard Lady. And as a mark of our dominance, I'll gift you this collar of gleaming scales, granting you the power to command and protect our shared territory."The creatures all look at you with adoring eyes, their unique bonds with you palpable in the air.

As the days turn into weeks, and the weeks into months, your mates bestow upon you various nicknames and gifts, each a testament to their affection and desire.From the werewolf, you receive the nickname "She-wolf," a term of endearment that reflects your newfound status as a breeder's bitch. He gifts you a collar studded with sharp fangs, a symbol of his claim on you. Whenever you wear it, you feel an electric thrill run through your body, a reminder of his primal possession.The merman dubs you "Pearl," a nod to your lustrous hair and the precious treasures he hopes to find in your womb. He presents you with an opalescent shell, its swirling patterns a mirror of your eyes. Whenever you hold it, you're transported to the mystical depths of the ocean, feeling his soothing touch and gentle whispers.The naga bestows upon you the title "Snake Charmress," a play on your name and her affinity for your captivating nature. She gifts you a set of serpentine coils, each one adorned with a gemstone that reflects the colors of her scales.

The werewolf grins, his sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight. "I think 'Luna' suits you, Marina ," he says, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "It means 'moon' in my language. A fitting name for one as lovely and luminous as you." He pulls a small, delicate silver necklace from his fur-lined pocket. "Here, this was my mother's. I want you to have it, my dear Marina . To remember me by, whenever I'm not... otherwise occupied." The necklace bears a small, shining moonstone. The merman chuckles. "I think you'll answer to 'Delphine', Marina . It's French for 'dolphin'. A tribute to your new life beneath the waves." He gifts you a shimmering pearl, iridescent like his tail. "Keep it close, my dear. A reminder that I'll always be with you, even when I'm not by your side." The naga hisses softly. "You'll be 'Khepri' to me, little mother," she says, pressing a small, golden scarab bead into your hand. "It's the sacred beetle in my people's mythology."

The werewolf grins, his sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight. "I think 'Luna' suits you, Marina ," he says, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "It means 'moon' in my language. A fitting name for one as lovely and luminous as you." He pulls a small, delicate silver necklace from his fur-lined pocket. "Here, this was my mother's. I want you to have it, my dear Marina . To remember me by, whenever I'm not... otherwise occupied." The necklace bears a small, shining moonstone. The merman chuckles. "I think you'll answer to 'Delphine', Marina . It's French for 'dolphin'. A tribute to your new life beneath the waves." He gifts you a shimmering pearl, iridescent like his tail. "Keep it close, my dear. A reminder that I'll always be with you, even when I'm not by your side." The naga hisses softly. "You'll be 'Khepri' to me, little mother," she says, pressing a small, golden scarab bead into your hand. "It's the sacred beetle in my people's mythology."

The werewolf's growl deepens as he looks at you with a possessive gaze. "You'll be my Luna, my moonbeam," he says, his voice low and husky. "And for your first gift, I'll give you a necklace made from the strongest wolf's hair. It will symbolize your place by my side, and when you wear it, you'll be reminded of the primal heat we share."The merman's eyes sparkle with mirth as he presents you with a delicate, shimmering pearl. "For you, Marina, my sweet, I gift this pearl," he says, his voice gentle. "It's said to bring prosperity and good fortune to its keeper, and I know our little merbabies will thrive under its blessing." The naga's voice is a soothing hiss as she presents you with a woven basket. "Pack your things, Luna," she says with a sly smile. "This basket contains a selection of my favorite herbs and roots. They'll help you navigate the challenges of motherhood, and ensure our offspring inherit my cunning and resilience." The lizardman slithers forward, a small, glittering scale held between his claws. "For you, my darling, I offer this scale,"

The werewolf's first gift to you is a new collar, adorned with shiny silver studs and a little silver bell that jingles as he places it around your neck. "There, Marina , wear this collar as a symbol of your belonging to me," he growls, his golden eyes burning with possessiveness. "Let it remind you of your duties as my bitch, my breeder, and the mother of my wolf pups."He whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, "And from now on, you will answer to the nickname 'Moonlight'. For it is in the silvery glow of the moon that our most primal desires will be fulfilled, and our little werewolves will take their first breaths."The merman presents you with a delicate, shell-encrusted necklace that catches the light with an ethereal shimmer. "For you, my dear Marina , I bestow the nickname 'Seaflower'," he says, his voice smooth as the tides. "May this token remind you of the beauty and wonder that awaits us beneath the waves, and the precious merbabies we'll nurture together."

The werewolf's first gift to you is a new collar, adorned with shiny silver studs and a little silver bell that jingles as he places it around your neck. "There, Marina , wear this collar as a symbol of your belonging to me," he growls, his golden eyes burning with possessiveness. "Let it remind you of your duties as my bitch, my breeder, and the mother of my wolf pups."He whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, "And from now on, you will answer to the nickname 'Moonlight'. For it is in the silvery glow of the moon that our most primal desires will be fulfilled, and our little werewolves will take their first breaths."The merman presents you with a delicate, shell-encrusted necklace that catches the light with an ethereal shimmer. "For you, my dear Marina , I bestow the nickname 'Seaflower'," he says, his voice smooth as the tides. "May this token remind you of the beauty and wonder that awaits us beneath the waves, and the precious merbabies we'll nurture together."

As you settle into your new life with your mates, each of them takes to calling you special pet names. The werewolf growls softly as he nuzzles you, whispering "Kitsune" - Japanese for fox, in honor of your cunning and playfulness. He gifts you a beautiful, handmade fox mask to wear during your mating sessions, that you might feel the connection between your two forms.The merman splashes and sings as he showers you with affection, nicknaming you "Pearlescence" for the way your body glows with pregnancy. He gifts you a delicate, iridescent necklace that matches his tail, a symbol of the precious life you'll create together.The naga hisses softly as she winds around you, calling you "Chrysalia" - golden one, in respect for your inner light. She gifts you a lovely golden amulet, adorned with twin snakes, to wear as a reminder of your bond. And the lizardman sneaks you sweet, shiny trinkets he finds on his hunts - little treasures to show you his appreciation for your companionship, as he calls you "Geminae" - twin gem, for the treasure you are to him.

The werewolf growls, his golden eyes burning with desire. "You'll be 'Lupa's Bitch' from now on, Marina . And as a token of my affection, I'll gift you with a collar studded with silver claws. It'll serve as a reminder of your place and purpose in life: to please and breed for your alpha." He reaches into his fur and produces a small, intricately crafted collar, the claws glinting menacingly in the fading light.The merman grins, his iridescent tail shimmering with excitement. "Darling, I think 'Fin's Sweetheart' suits you perfectly. And as a gift, I'll present you with a beautiful shell necklace, each piece carefully selected to enhance your maternal qualities and bring our merbabies good fortune in the deep."The naga's forked tongue flicks out, tasting the air as she hisses, "You'll be 'Snake's Mate' from now on, Marina . I'll gift you with a set of venomous bite marks, unique to our pairing, which will mark you as my territory and remind all others of your claimed status."The lizardman's forked tongue darts out, tasting the air as he hisses,

The werewolf smirks, his golden eyes glinting with mischief. "Nicknames? Well, you could be my 'Breed Bitch', 'Lupa' - that's 'she-wolf' in Latin, or maybe 'Kits' for short, since you'll be my little kit." He winks, his clawed finger tracing along your jawline. "And as for gifts... how about a collar to mark you as mine? Engraved with my pack's emblem, to remind you of your place and the pack you now belong to."The merman grins, his dolphin-like smile wide and welcoming. "For me, I think 'Finley's Fancy' suits you well, Marina . A name that reflects your beauty and the treasures we'll create together beneath the waves." He pulls out a shimmering pearl from beneath the pool's surface and presents it to you. "And as a token, this rare pearl will adorn your hair, a symbol of your new role as my mate and mother to our merbabies."The naga unwinds herself from your leg, her twin cocks still twitching with interest. "Call me 'Snakecharmer' or 'Adder' for short,"

[doc42]

Mother of Dragons

“Mother of Dragons” is another way of spelling “Azor Ahai”, as it describes a gender-flipped big damn hero drawing a Red Sword out of fire and blood.

She did this thing, why I cannot say, and Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel. Such is the tale of the forging of Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes.

The dragons are animated by sacrifice, the power of what once was supposed to be yet now can never be, the blood and the souls and the strength and the courage of days that never were. The shape of shadows. The fire, the life.

She saw sunlight on the Dothraki sea, the living plain, rich with the smells of earth and death. Wind stirred the grasses, and they rippled like water. Drogo held her in strong arms, and his hand stroked her sex and opened her and woke that sweet wetness that was his alone, and the stars smiled down on them, stars in a daylight sky. "Home," she whispered as he entered her and filled her with his seed, but suddenly the stars were gone, and across the blue sky swept the great wings, and the world took flame.

Ser Jorah's face was drawn and sorrowful. "Rhaegar was the last dragon," he told her. He warmed translucent hands over a glowing brazier where stone eggs smouldered red as coals. One moment he was there and the next he was fading, his flesh colorless, less substantial than the wind. "The last dragon," he whispered, thin as a wisp, and was gone. She felt the dark behind her, and the red door seemed farther away than ever.

Viserys stood before her, screaming. "The dragon does not beg, slut. You do not command the dragon. I am the dragon, and I will be crowned." The molten gold trickled down his face like wax, burning deep channels in his flesh. "I am the dragon and I will be crowned!" he shrieked, and his fingers snapped like snakes, biting at her nipples, pinching, twisting, even as his eyes burst and ran like jelly down seared and blackened cheeks.

She could feel the heat inside her, a terrible burning in her womb. Her son was tall and proud, with Drogo's copper skin and her own silver-gold hair, violet eyes shaped like almonds. And he smiled for her and began to lift his hand toward hers, but when he opened his mouth the fire poured out. She saw his heart burning through his chest, and in an instant he was gone, consumed like a moth by a candle, turned to ash. She wept for her child, the promise of a sweet mouth on her breast, but her tears turned to steam as they touched her skin. ...but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel. 

Her homes.

She threw open the door. " . . . the dragon . . . " And saw her brother Rhaegar, mounted on a stallion as black as his armor. Fire glimmered red through the narrow eye slit of his helm. "The last dragon," Ser Jorah's voice whispered faintly. "The last, the last." Dany lifted his polished black visor. The face within was her own.

A true sword of fire, now, that would be a wonder to behold. Yet at such a cost . . . When he thought of Nissa Nissa, it was his own Marya he pictured, a good-natured plump woman with sagging breasts and a kindly smile, the best woman in the world. He tried to picture himself driving a sword through her, and shuddered. I am not made of the stuff of heroes, he decided. If that was the price of a magic sword, it was more than he cared to pay.

“Only death can pay for life.”

“Three fires must you light . . . one for life...”

He tried to picture himself driving a sword through her, and shuddered.

Inside the tent Dany found a cushion, soft silk stuffed with feathers. She clutched it to her breasts as she walked back out to Drogo, to her sun-and-stars. If I look back I am lost. It hurt even to walk, and she wanted to sleep, to sleep and not to dream. She knelt, kissed Drogo on the lips, and pressed the cushion down across his face. 

“It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon.” “The moon of my life.” “I am not made of the stuff of heroes.”

Daenerys is made of the stuff of heroes, she’s a big damn one. “Fire made flesh, and so am I.”

She climbed the pyre herself to place the eggs around her sun-and-stars. The black beside his heart, under his arm.

No, she wanted to shout to him, no, my good knight, do not fear for me. The fire is mine. I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don't you see? Don't you SEE? With a belch of flame and smoke that reached thirty feet into the sky, the pyre collapsed and came down around her. Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children. The third crack was as loud and sharp as the breaking of the world.

Interviewer: Why is Dany a princess and not a prince? George: I made this choice a long time ago, but I think I wanted to play a little with gender roles and reverse things a little... And, of course, "Mother of Dragons", to my mind, is much better than "Father of Dragons". There is the connection between the woman who brings forth life carrying a huge power of death, fire and destruction. There are very powerful metaphors in there. (x) 

Birthing dragons is a woman’s way of drawing a Red Sword of Heroes, “mothering a sword.“

Dany opened her arms to them, her skin flushed and glowing. This is a wedding, too, she thought. He is fire made flesh, and so am I.

[ifyougochasingrabbits]

.fairy tale aesthetics: brothers grimm version

Bold what applies to your muse and REPOST !

SNOW WHITE.

jade trinket boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror. yellow and green with envy. long-handled hunting knives. sewing by the window. combs laced with pearls and poison.  an apple white one side and red the other.  white doves. frosted glass.

THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS.

a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet. walking for days. flowing gowns. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights.

THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST.

lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies. tiny milk snakes. baskets of strawberries. fat toads. sparkling snow. fur cloaks. raw gemstones. kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.

BLUE BEARD.

a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away. galloping hooves. treasures from faraway lands. dragged by the hair. dark and damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.

THE SIX SWANS.

sitting side-saddle.  daughter of a witch.  nettles. white feathers. refusing to smile. needles and threads. a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings. birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn. silver crowns.

LITTLE RED CAP.

wildflowers. rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn. a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts. sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.

tagged by these loves: Don't remember. orz tagging more lovelies: @umbralsound-xiv, @hinganskies, @thefreelanceangel, @dumb-hat, @tiergan-vashir

Old prompt results below...

Because of several things that has happened to White since this was last done, I've been able to bold more things that fit! Still pretty similar at the end of the day.

SNOW WHITE.

jade trinket boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror. yellow and green with envy. long-handled hunting knives. sewing by the window. combs laced with pearls and poison.  an apple white one side and red the other.  white doves. frosted glass.

THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS.

a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet. walking for days. flowing gowns. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights.

THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST.

lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies. tiny milk snakes. baskets of strawberries. fat toads. sparkling snow. fur cloaks. raw gemstones. kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.

BLUE BEARD.

a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away. galloping hooves. treasures from faraway lands. dragged by the hair. dark and damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.

THE SIX SWANS.

sitting side-saddle.  daughter of a witch.  nettles. white feathers. refusing to smile. needles and threads. a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings. birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn. silver crowns.

LITTLE RED CAP.

wildflowers. rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn. a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts. sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.

[zipegs]

will/hannibal/alana/antony/bedelia// 1.6k, e, vamp au // ao3 written for day 2 of fad's au challenge: vampire

By the time Will got to the bedroom, Hannibal already had Antony naked and writhing in the center of their large canopy bed.

Irritation flashed through him, but he didn't let it show. He closed the door softly behind him and joined Alana at the side of the bed, snaking an arm around her waist. She glanced up at him with a soft smile and leaned her head against his shoulder, then turned her focus back to Antony, her gaze roving hungrily over his sweat-slick skin. Bedelia was watching the show, too, settled on one corner of the mattress in nothing but her thin white chemise. She toyed with the neckline as she stared, her lips parted and her focus hazy.

"Starting without me?" Will asked.

Alana made a small, placating noise and nuzzled closer, settling a hand on Will's chest. "Antony couldn't wait. You know how he is."

Will hummed and rubbed tight circles into Alana's hip, making her sigh and melt against him. On the bed, Hannibal crooked his fingers, and Antony keened.

Bedelia's gaze was heavy with lust, but her lips quirked into a contemptuous smile. "Hard to believe we were all that needy once," she drawled. "Look at him. You'd think he never touched his prick a day in his life."

Hannibal huffed a laugh against Antony's throat. "He's an insatiable little thing," he agreed, still steadily thrusting his fingers into Antony's hole. "But I seem to remember a whole week in which you, Bedelia, utterly refused to leave the bed."

Bedelia flushed, and Alana let out a joyous little laugh, lifting her head from Will's chest to turn her bright eyes to Bedelia, who studiously avoided her gaze.

"We were all hungry children," Will said, meeting Hannibal's gaze with a crooked smile. Hannibal grinned back at him. Even after all these centuries, their eye contact sent a thrill of arousal through Will. His cock stirred, and he exhaled shakily.

He had likely been the hungriest of all—Hannibal's first child.

Well, the first one that mattered. The others were long dead, anyway.

Antony's voice wavered and cracked on a moan. He fisted his cock desperately as his body trembled. "Please," he begged, utterly and entirely at Hannibal's mercy. "Please, Hannibal, I need—"

Hannibal shushed him fondly, smoothing his sweaty hair back from his face. "Of course you do," he soothed. He glanced meaningfully at Bedelia, who dipped her chin and peeled off her chemise before crawling over to them.

"There, now," Hannibal said. He pressed a kiss to the crown of Antony's head, and Bedelia sighed and tilted her head to bare her neck. "Go ahead, darling."

Antony whined gratefully and twisted in Hannibal's arms.

Fury shot through Will. He bared his teeth and lunged forward, but Hannibal tsked and grabbed Antony's chin before he could sink his fangs into Hannibal's throat. "Now, now," he chided, grinning over at Will. "Don't be rude, Antony. You know you don't get the first taste."

Will settled, appeased, and Alana returned to him, a soothing presence at his side. She kissed his throat, his jaw, the bit of his chest bared by the deep V-shaped neck of his shirt. Each press of her lips was like a little droplet of sunlight—the only snatches of it that Will had felt in nearly 700 years.

"Bedelia is waiting for you," Hannibal murmured to Antony, though his gaze was locked on Will. Will's lips parted, and he let Alana stoke the heat within him, each little kiss or nibble winding him tighter.

Antony released a shuddering sigh and poured himself into Bedelia's lap, rubbing his cock against her belly as he latched onto the side of her neck. She gasped in rapture—Will could pinpoint the exact moment Antony's fangs penetrated her skin—and closed her eyes, threading her fingers through Antony's mussed hair.

"Good," Hannibal praised. He stroked a hand over both of them in turn, then returned his fingers to Antony's hole, slipping them in easily and without resistance. Both Antony and Bedelia gasped, and Hannibal helped them to lie flat, Bedelia on her back beneath Antony, who crouched above her like an animal.

Will drew in a steadying breath and began to work at Alana's corset, loosening the laces just enough that she could step back and unfasten it. He helped her slip out of the rest of her clothing, which puddled at her feet, then turned her around to face the bed and pulled her back against him.

"Watch them," he murmured against her ear, relishing the light shiver that ran through her. She obeyed, leaning her head back against his shoulder, and widened her stance to make room for his hand, which slid down her chest and belly and came to rest on the thatch of curls between her thighs.

She was already wet, and her clit, when he found it, was hot and swollen beneath his fingertips. She arched against him, pressing her hips insistently against his hand, and he huffed out a laugh and kissed beneath her ear. "Do you think you can come before Antony?"

On the bed, Hannibal's gaze flashed with competitive delight. He quickened his fingers, twisting and thrusting with a precision that made Antony unlatch from Bedelia's neck and jerk backward with a thready moan.

Alana laughed breathlessly. "I don't—"

"I think you can." Will circled her clit, and she gasped, reaching back to grab onto his trousers and thigh.

The two of them had had a magnetic connection from the start. Hannibal might have found Alana—might have wanted her first—but she shared something unique with Will. Something natural—almost gentle. It was that connection he drew on now as he pressed his cheek to her soft brown curls.

"That's it," Will encouraged, rubbing her more firmly as he brought his free hand to cup her breast. "See how desperate Antony is? How much he needs it?"

The two of them stared at the three creatures writhing on the bed—Antony with his blood-flushed, sweat-slick desperation, Hannibal with his cold hunger, Bedelia with her hazy bliss. "Imagine how much pleasure he must feel," Will continued, rolling Alana's nipple between his fingers. He dipped his other hand down to tease at her opening, and she moaned, grinding against him. "He must be ecstatic with it. All that need, all that euphoria, frantic and bottled up."

Antony, hearing it all, began to lose his rhythm. He craned his head to look at Will and Alana over his shoulder, his eyes glazed with need. Beneath him, Bedelia shifted, pushing herself up enough to sink her fangs into Antony's collarbone.

Will thrust his fingers deep into Alana's cunt just as Antony tensed and began to shake. Will bared his teeth, grinding himself hard against Alana's ass as he fucked her, his thumb rubbing firm circles over her clit. She gasped and arched, throwing a hand back to knot in Will's hair, desperate to find purchase as her orgasm washed over her.

On the bed, Antony keened and spurted over Bedelia's chest, and not for a second did Hannibal break Will's eye contact. Alana came, and Antony came, and it was as though Will and Hannibal did too, sharing the intimacy of their partner's climaxes through the naked intensity of their gaze.

When it was over, Alana slumped in Will's arms. Will bent forward and kissed her gently, then laid her on the bed. She crawled over to cuddle up beside Bedelia, pillowing her head on Bedelia's shoulder and stroking mindlessly over Bedelia's soft, cum-spattered skin.

Slowly, Will tugged off his shirt and unlaced his trousers. Hannibal watched him with fervent ardor, but he made no move to approach, only knelt there in the center of the bed like a king. Once Will had fully removed his clothes, Hannibal shrugged off his silk dressing gown and spread his arms wide. Will went to him, settling gracefully on his lap. He set his hands on Hannibal's shoulders and pressed his forehead to Hannibal's, then pushed forward and ground his cock against Hannibal's belly. Hannibal's mouth fell open, baring the sharp points of his fangs, and his cock twitched against Will, hot and dripping.

"Hannibal," Will breathed.

All these years, and each time still felt like the first.

"Darling." Hannibal slid his hand along Will's spine, a sensual, encouraging touch. "My dear."

Will pressed himself closer. He embraced Hannibal fully, so that no space remained between their bodies. They were entwined completely—inextricably. He turned his head to nose behind Hannibal's ear, and Hannibal cupped the back of Will's head, his other arm wrapping strong around Will's waist.

"Go on, Will," Hannibal said. "Taste. Drink."

Will groaned and bit. Hannibal's blood rushed into his mouth, thick and sweet and complex, and Will suckled gratefully, moaning against Hannibal's neck. He could tolerate more of Hannibal's powerful lifeblood, now, without that same disorienting rush he'd had as a fledgling, but nursing from him would never be anything short of intoxicating. Will's head spun, and Hannibal gripped him tighter, his long nails scraping deliciously against Will's skull.

To their side, the girls had begun moaning again, puffing out soft little sighs and wet, slick noises. Will dragged his head away from Hannibal's neck so that he could stare into his depthless burgundy eyes, panting as devotion swelled so hot in him that he was nearly overwhelmed. He crushed their mouths together, smearing Hannibal's own blood over his lips and chin, and licked deep, thrusting his tongue against Hannibal's with frenzied passion.

"I love you," he moaned against him, clutching Hannibal tight. "God, I'll love you until the ends of the earth, until—"

"Will—"

"—the sun burns out and—"

"Always, Will." Hannibal cupped the side of Will's face and thumbed at a thick daub of blood. He sucked it clean, then leaned in to mouth just beneath Will's jaw. "Until the first heaven and the first earth pass away," he said, "and the sea is no more."

Will sighed, rapturous, and tilted his head back. A kingdom between them, and all the ages of the earth yet to be seen.

"Drink, Hannibal," he urged, and Hannibal did.

[justaduckarts]

We Choose You

Y'all want some Snake Holder lore? Here you go <3

1.3k Words

TW: Implied Death, Angst

It always starts with the music.

A snatch of a woman's voice carried through the ruins. Singing in language you didn't know. But her song was so full of mourning.

You looked up from the book you were reading.

"Do you hear that?" You looked over at Sun. He was tending to the vegetable garden. Moon was out of sight, as usual. Likely off sulking.

"There's nothing to hear, my light," Sun said quietly, "just the wind through the ruins. We are completely alone here."

"...Right." You settled back on the window ledge and opened your book once more. The house you were perched in the front window of was one of the few houses in the ruins that still had all four walls and roof in tact. It wasn't much, but there was room enough for the three of you. Not that Moon came around often.

Sun, on the other hand, was hardly ever away from you. And anytime he had any chores to do, he'd invite you along. He seemed determined not to leave you alone too long.

"So this crown-

"It's a circlet," Sun corrected gently, "but what was the question?"

"Right. Where is it from? Why can't I take it off?" You set the book aside. "Why a snake?"

The mysterious solar animatronic looked at you for a long moment. He smiled sorrowfully.

"You never stop being curious," he sighed, "alright. I can tell you everything I know. It's... a long story."

Sun dusted his hands off before moving to sit beside you. The first couple of days, you'd been very wary of him getting close. But he'd been incredibly patient with you, and steadily you were warming up to his presence. You could tell he was eager to show you affection. He was often reaching out before quickly withdrawing.

Shyly, you slid your hand into his. Right away, his smile brightened. He looked at you excitedly before remembering what he was going to say. Instantly, his smile fell. Sun brushed his thumb over your knuckles, examining your hand as he spoke.

"A long, long time ago," he looked out over the ruins, "this was an active volcano."

You looked out over the village with wonder. It would certainly explain the large opening in the top of the mountain. Sunlight poured down from it, painting the ruins within warm hues.

"The volcano was the breeding ground of a very old, very creul spirit. This spirit would demand sacrifices in exchange for the protection of the villages at the base of the volcano." Sun explained.

You decided not to tell Sun that there were no longer villages around the mountain. Now there was only forest. Forest as far as the eye could see.

"The spirit was said to take the form of a snake," Sun tapped at the silver circlet on your head, "and would devour those offered up. First their thoughts, then their hearts." The solar animatronic sighed softly.

"Obviously, this was terrible. So terrible that the gods were forced to step in," he explained, "they broke the spirit into pieces, and sealed them away. When the volcano fell dormant and the magma cool, this kingdom was built atop it. The people wished to honor the lives lost to the spirit."

"That's when Moon and I were built, too," Sun's thumb resumed striking your hand tenderly. "There were a lot of us. An automaton for each planet in our solar system! And a few others that were special. We were made to keep the kingdom safe."

"After all, you can't control the mind of a mechanical being with magic," Sun frowned, "...that was the idea, anyway." His rays retracted an inch.

"Despite being sealed away, the spirit wasn't done yet. They cast a powerful curse on this kingdom. A curse that promised all who entered this mountain a slow, agonizing end." There was so much hurt in his voice. You felt your throat tighten.

"The spirit had no body with which to enact the curse," Sun's grip on your hand tightened subtly, "so it took over our friends' bodies instead. One by one, all of the other animatronics were corrupted. But magic and machine do not mix well. And the effects of the magic caused most of them to break down completely." His expression twisted with despair, light fading from his eyes.

"Eventually, it was just Moon and I." He shut his eyes tight. "And you."

You felt your heart jump into your throat when he looked at you.

"Me?"

"...Your first incarnation," he explained, "you were Moon's partner. A baker." Sun smiled, "so full of life."

His smile faded.

"The spirit had been feeding on the despair of all of the kingdom's residents, but it wasn't enough to break free of the gods' seal. And you were the only one left. The spirit knew that in this hidden location, it could be a long time before anyone came to this place again." Sun looked at you helplessly.

"So they cursed you. They cursed you to be born again and again. To make your way here. So that you would suffer over and over until they were strong enough to break free."

Silence.

You swallowed, looking up into the sky. This was a lot to take in. But you knew he was right. Snatches of memories from your previous lives would slip in sometimes. Hints of who you were before.

"...And you just... let it happen?" You looked over at Sun.

"It's not our choice," Sun held your hand tighter, "we're just as trapped by the curse as you are. It's what keeps us functioning. After so many years, we should have broken down. But the spirit won't let us. It knows you want to find us. So we wait for you."

"That's terrible," you frowned, "you're just... trapped here?"

Sun shrugged, "I've never know any other home. And... it's not so bad. At least I always get to see you."

"...You get to see me slowly lose it, you mean," you sighed.

"We try to make it as easy on you as possible," Sun said quietly, "...and we always give you the choice. An easy way out."

"Do I... ever choose the easy way out?"

"You don't," Sun's voice was just above a whisper now. A horrible feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. You swallowed, slowly digesting this information.

A tender arm wrapped around you.

"Don't feel bad for us," Sun pulled you closer, "we chose this, too."

"We always choose you."

...

The nights in the ruins are always so peaceful. You were curled in your cot to sleep. Sun beside you, deep into his rest mode.

Moon stared down at your sleeping form. His wires felt twisted.

You were here. And now he'd have to watch you suffer.

Again.

But as much as he resented the process...

He wanted to be near you.

Wanted to hold you once more.

Sighing, he sank down onto the floor beside your cot.

Moon shut his eyes. The music box in his chest wound and began to play.

A warm hand settled on his back and he turned to look at you.

You smiled up at him. Moon could see the haze of sleep clouding your eyes. He stared down at you, uncertain.

"I can't help but choose you," you said quietly, "sorry."

"...I understand." Moon shifted, pulling you into his arms. Delicately, so his claws wouldn't knick your skin.

"I would choose you, too," he said, holding you close.

You looked up into his glowing red eyes. He leaned down and kissed your forehead.

"Sleep." Moon rubbed your back. You nodded, curling up in his grasp.

Before long, his gentle music box melody was lulling you to sleep.

[amandacanwrite]

Solar Return ☽ The Hallowed Wilds ☾ Chapter Five

POV ;; Aurelia ☽ 10 y.o.

Summary ;; Aurelia and Ezra Celebrate their shared birthday together.

Warnings ;; N/a

Author Note ;; As usual, if you enjoy this, reblogs, comments and shares do a lot to get more eyes on my work. If you want to join the tag list, sign ups are at the bottom! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Ezra and I continued to meet.

I started to recognize an Ezra day as soon as I opened my eyes to the morning sunlight. The Wilds spoke to me in a particular way on Ezra days. It was different from the other days. Every visit brought with it new discoveries, new adventures—it was impossible not to feel a special excitement when I awoke with the promises of those days.

There was the time he introduced me to the Fiddle and played what he called a jig. He’d taught me some dances that the villagers did when they were celebrating a holiday or someone’s birthday. They were so much fun and so different from the dances we did in the coven.

Ritual dances were smooth and writhing like snakes or salamanders. They were old—primordial and reverent. Sometimes even scary.

The dances in the village were about laughter—all jumping and spinning.

Ezra had shown me how to hook arms with him and spin around each other, we wound up falling in the mud laughing by the end of it.

I couldn’t get enough of it, couldn’t get enough of him.

As magical and wonderful as The Wilds were, the village seemed so much more alive than the forest. The irony of that wasn’t lost on me—a forest that never died felt more lifeless than a village draped in ice and snow. Still, it’s what I felt.

Some days when I was missing my friend, I would just sit at the edge of the forest and stare across The Golden River to the village, wishing I would see his little capped head bobbing through the grasses. I learned what it meant to want something when I had spent my whole life having every need met.

Truthfully, I’d learned what wanting at all felt like.

In the coven, we weren’t taught to experience desires. There was only what should be done and then doing it. We only ever learned to listen to our intuition and follow it. It was lucky that our intuition often led us to things that brought us joy.

Wanting was a new kind of experience. It was simultaneously wonderful and aching, tender and wistful. I spent some part of every day thinking about him, even when I tried to tell myself not to.

When he did come to see me I always made a point to show Ezra more and more of the magic of the forests. I think it was because I wanted him to miss The Wilds so much that he would come back and see me more often.

We visited the pond I’d floated in when I was feeling uncertain, and he was amazed when a cut on his finger healed after he’d swam in it. I spent hours that day talking to him about all of the healing places in the forest, all of the plants that could scare away fever and faedeath alike.

His eagerness to learn always filled me with so much happiness. To have him love my home so much was a treasure I kept tucked away in the secret compartments of my heart for the days I didn’t see him.

One day I took him to a tiny cave that was entirely lit by glowing plants and fireflies. I think that had been his favorite. I had coaxed the fireflies to land in our hair like crowns of starlight and he’d laughed and danced with me.

He taught me how to play pretend that day. My sisters were always so firm in following what was real and true. No one ever lied, no one played—not in the way that Ezra knew how to play. He told me to be a princess and he would be my knight.

I didn’t know what any of those things were, so he promised to bring me a book to show me. I couldn’t wait to learn more about the strange deafened world beyond the borders of my home.

The nights after spending the day with him, I would lie awake in my bed and think of him. I would think of his precious freckles and his wood-colored hair. I would think about his laugh, all trilling and bright like the sound of birdsong. Sometimes I would think of the rough texture of his fingers while I brushed my hand over the hat he’d left with me. Fair and square, he’d said that day. I waned to ask what that meant.

Yes—I’d learned what it was like to want, to miss a person. And even though it hurt, I was happy to experience something so wonderful as a friendship that felt so important and rare. My fear and guilt about my friend ebbed. How could I feel badly about something so blessed by Mother Eterna?

Months passed.

Sometimes I would see Ezra almost every day—sometimes a fortnight would pass without him. I always knew he would come back though, even though the missing made me cry sometimes.

The hurt of his absence was a welcome price for the joy of getting to know him.

Finally, it was the day before our solar return—our birthday. The Vernal Equinox was very important in the coven. It was a day that linked every one of us from the green maidens to the wizened crones. There was always so much to do, so much to prepare for. But, I’d woken up the morning of the nineteenth and known right away that it would be an Ezra day.

I made up some task to do.

I knew that the forest wanted me to go to the clover fields, I woke up with a vision of them in my mind—that would do. I could collect clovers for Mother Eterna and show Ezra the myriad of different clover plants I was sure he hadn’t seen.

It took me longer than I would have liked—I had to help set up the altar with my sisters and then help my sister Ophelia paint the circle on the ceremonial stones with the proper sigils, but I did manage to get away in the early afternoon.

The clover fields were deep in the forest, so I made my way to the River of Rye to meet Ezra.

Along the way, I found something that I’d never seen in the forest before.

I knew every inch of these forests. That’s what happened when you wandered them every day, but for the first time in my life there was something new. Not just a wilted flower or an animal that had died peacefully—a true change.

It was like a corridor had been created by trees curving toward each other and from the boughs of those trees drooped hundreds and hundreds of violet wisteria flowers, their vines crisscrossing and tangling across the floor of the forest like a pathway—like the streets in the village Ezra had told me about.

I took my first few steps onto that latticework of vines and felt the magic in them immediately. Protection magic, glamours hiding them from eyes that hadn’t earned them.

I followed the pathway for what felt like a long time and as I walked deeper and deeper into that grove of purple and white and pink I heard the rhythmic rapping of something. A woodpecker, I thought; or maybe a little rodent trying to open an acorn. But when I stepped through the draping, blue branches of a willow tree, I found I was mistaken.

There was Ezra, using some tool—a hammer I think he’d called it—to nail a worn piece of lumber to a structure.

It looked like a tiny house.

“Ezra,” I breathed.

He whirled around to see me, startled after my quiet approach.

“Heavens, Aurelia—I about threw this thing at your head,” he said wiping sweat off his brow.

I was too entranced by the structure standing behind him to feel bad about scaring him. I seemed to scare him most days anyway, he ought to be used to it by now.

“What is this?” I asked.

“A birthday present—” he panted. “For both of us. I built it over the last few months with left over wood from Pa’s work and old branches I found on the ground. I uh—I promise I didn’t cut anything down or hurt anything.”

Ezra and I had spent a lot of time talking about how The Deafened stole what wasn’t theirs to take. My heart felt unbearably heavy and warm in my chest.

The thing he’d built wasn’t too big—maybe about half the size of my hut in the clearing—but it was just…perfect. The motley assortment of reclaimed wood, the way that the vines and grasses crept up on the edges of the walls, the way that it nestled just so near an old willow whose branches swayed and whispered like an old friend.

“I love it,” I told him as I spun around in the little alcove, taking it all in. “I can’t believe you built it all by yourself.”

“My Pa is a carpenter—I help him with this and that around our house…it’s not as good as his stuff but…I think it will do for a while, ‘til I can learn more.” He blushed and looked away from me and my awestruck expression. “D-Do you wanna go look inside?”

“Of course I do!!” I exclaimed.

He beamed at me, it was impossible not to smile back. I followed him into the small hut.

It was sturdy enough with mis-matched wooden planks set into the ground as a foundation. The doorway was left open like the huts in the clearing, and each of the other three walls had a gap in the wooden planks left to act as windows. The roof was constructed of found lengths of wood, mostly cracked branches, tied together with rope and thatched with leaves. The coverage was imperfect, but I liked it. The sunlight speckled the floor like it was shining through tree branches.I supposed it was between the willow outside and the thatched roof.

Ezra rubbed his neck as I looked around.

“Honestly—it’s pretty bad, I wanted to work on it a little while longer before I showed it to you.”

“Ezra, it’s perfect,” I breathed, smiling at him.

“It’s really not—I wanted it to look like one of the houses in the village—”

“No, this is perfect!” I insisted. “It’s like us, a little bit of The Wilds and a little bit of the village. And look.” I went to one of the walls and jostled it—it didn’t budge an inch. “It’s safe and sturdy too.”

Ezra’s expression tightened in humble pride. He nodded.

“I’ll keep improving it as I learn new things from Pa.”

“And I’ll work on making it comfortable for us,” I offered, “Now we’ll always have a place to meet. It’s perfect,” I repeated.

I looked at him, meeting his gaze. The golden thread pulled taut between us, and my heart panged with some new emotion. Something like I felt for my sisters but somehow more. Somehow warmer, brighter and more achingly desperate. I needed to express it somehow. Words or gifts or…

Striding over to him, I pulled him into a tight embrace, arms wrapping about his middle and squeezing. I nuzzled into him and inhaled the smell of him, hearthfire and tobacco.

His arms went up and hovered in the air for a moment, but soon rested about me, reciprocating the squeeze. He’d gotten taller, I hadn’t noticed it until then. His cheek pressed to my forehead.

It felt like we were built to hold each other.

“Happy birthday, Aura,” he whispered.

I smiled into him, treasuring the sound of his shortened name for me. “Happy birthday, Ezra.”

☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾

Join the Taglist Here.

@eldritchx

[outoftheirdifferences]

FAIRY TALE AESTHETICS: BROTHERS GRIMM VERSION

rules :   bold what applies to your muse and repost

SNOW WHITE:

jade trinket boxes. taste of iron.  fingertips on a mirror.  yellow and green with envy.  long handled hunting knives.  sewing by the window.  combs laced with pearls and poison. an apple white one side and red the other.  white doves.  frosted glass.

THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS:

a blunt axe.  a ring of chalk.  tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears.  hands tied behind back.  shallow rivers. aching feet. walking for days. flowing gowns. liquid silver. wax seals.  blinding lights.

THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST:

lukewarm bath water.  sapphire butterflies.   tiny milk snakes.  baskets of strawberries. fat toads.  sparkling snow. fur cloaks.  raw gemstones. kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.

BLUE BEARD:

a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood.  stains that won’t rub away.  galloping hooves. treasures from far away lands.  dragged by the hair. dark and damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.

THE SIX SWANS:

sitting side-saddle. daughter of a witch. nettles.  white feathers.  refusing to smile.  needles and threads.  a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings.  birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn.  silver crowns.

LITTLE RED CAP:

wildflowers.  rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn.  a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts.  sunlight peeking through branches.  opening corks with a satisfying pop.  looking someone directly in the eye.

Tagged by: @thecaptainsxcrew Tagging: Anyone!!

[publicabsent]

𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄. jade trinket boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror. yellow & green with envy. long handled hunting knives. sewing by the window. combs laced with pearls & poison.  an apple white one side & red the other. white doves. frosted glass.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒. a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet. walking for days. flowing gowns. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓. lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies.  tiny milk snakes.  baskets of strawberries. fat toads. sparkling snow. fur cloaks. raw gemstones. kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃. a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away. galloping hooves. treasures from far away lands. dragged by the hair. dark & damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐒. sitting side-saddle. daughter of a witch. nettles. white feathers. refusing to smile. needles & threads. a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings. birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn. silver crowns.

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐏. wildflowers. rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn. a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts. sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.

[micro-expressions]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: “Bohemian Beginning” Indie Moon Phase/Sun Necklace.