#walking in oceanwater

[waterislife8]

[irrfahrer]

Ziv will explain what In-Universe Plant Your Muse reminds her of! Using Wookieepedia as a source ! FEAT. @strongfuck :

After they had eaten burgers, with the plates still standing on the desk in Zivs laboratory and looking very pale in the harsh bright light that made the meager pragmatic furniture and even the different small seedbeds taking in every inch of her workplace look grey and pale,  and Ziv had given a report on the state of the biodome, she reached out and motioned for the other to wait a moment before leaving. Grinning wildly the tynnan leaned her elbows on the desk, her tail wagging as if she was a happy puppy: “Hey, did I told you what pretty,kriffing little darlings I got at the last resource drop? Would you like to see them?”

She stopped, pinning her fluffy ears back and frowning so much that a line like a scar appeared between her big eyes: “Kriff, that sounded like the botanical equivalent of ‘ Do you want to see my dickpics?’; like  kriff this, I do not even have a dick beside the metaphorical massive-big-dick-energy of my personality and that is usually out blasting at any time for everyone to see, so there is no kriffing use of showing any pics of that. But anyway, I have new flowers to show instead of a dick and flowers are actually the genitals of the plant, so yeh, why not go see the dickflowers and if we are already at it why not smell the flower to give them proper head. Who wouldn't like that!” Not skipping a beat in her rambling the young woman hopped off the chair she had been sitting on and walked over to a shelf from which she took two pots from which she placed on the desk between herself and Rhys.In each of the adornless, simple pot grew  a flower that had grown in different studs with sharp, triangular leafs but whos longest stem had sprouted one blue, fistbig flowers that shimmered like oceanwater in the bright light. The flowerheads looked round at first glance, yet that was only an illusion- in turth the long petals had folded and knotted into eachother in several layers so close into a solid knot of velvety petals so hide the center carefully. 

“Those are puzzleflowers, well, obviously, listen just because the people on the planet where those flowers grow are good at problem solving, logical thinking and kriffing solving puzzles, does not mean that they are kriffing creative with names, that are two very kriffing different brainregions, anyway-” she pointed to the petals closed into what could also look like a closed fist with a hundrds knotted fingers: “-you see how the petals had folded into each other to protect the center? In the center it has its seeds, that are edible and the flower had developed those -”, the Tynnan tapped a sharp claw against one of the knots of petals, thinking. The flower moved to the side, avoiding the sharp claw gently like someone would lean away from a annoying sound: “- well kriffing locks, I guess? puzzle locks? - to keep away animals that would eat the seeds. So if you want to eat the seeds then you have to first solve the kriffing puzzle. You know, reminds me of you guys in your little offices keeping up a puzzled front for work, really, getting my kriffing funds to grow foodstuff for people is like having to solve a kriffing puzzleflower to get to the seeds to eat them.” , the artistic little pause the Tynnan made was barely noticeable over her smug smile that showed the razorsharp edges of her teeth:  “-out.”

The Tynnans little act lasted exactly thirty seconds before she broke out into a loud laughter, showing her teeth in all their not so soothing glory. With a little wink she took one of the pots and shoved them over the table over to Rhys so the blue petals shimmered almost metallic in the bright light: 

“Anyway, that one is for your office. You up for a dessert? Go for it and solve the puzzleflower, the seeds taste kriffing nice.”

[maddyfeelsbeachy]

me doing what I love: beachin & smilin

[asscreeds]

Heila - Chapter 1

“Heila,” an Old Norse verb meaning “to heal.”

Self-insert F!Eivor/Reader fic where the reader is a Dane from a clan with an unhinged leader that lands them in a heap of trouble, and are captured by Saxons after a failed raid. Eivor rescues the mortally wounded reader from certain death & with a little help from the Raven Clan, they are nursed back to health, and Eivor and Reader grow a little closer via helping eachother to overcome their traumas. Then inevitable lesbian pining and one or two (a little horny) dream sequences that suggest Eivor and the reader have actually known eachother for a very, very long time.

Reader is DFAB and uses she/her pronouns.

There are very specific trigger warnings for this chapter that are only referenced to later on in the story - graphic descriptions of violence, physical & psychological t/orture, religious fanaticism, wh/ipping, v/omit, blood, and minor/background character d/eath.

Read on AO3. i havent rlly posted fanfiction before on tumblr be nice to me

The morning waves broke calmly against the eastern shore of Cent, the salty sea breeze & sting of sand against your face and arms both familiar and calming to you; despite being weeks away from the place you once called home, it seemed the ocean would never change, no matter where you went. You could hear seabirds cry above you, and the gentle bustle of your impromptu settlement as your clanmates began to stir and prepare for the day to come. This was not your home, nor your intended destination when you had departed from your homeland - but, hopefully, you & your clan would make a home out of it yet. Originally you were to sail to Normandy but an unexpected and powerful storm threw your ship off course & you'd landed somewhere in England, according to your navigator, Vilmar.

Sitting around & watching the sun rise would not do much to help your people build a base camp. Before you could even get up, you heard footsteps in the sand behind you, and turned to find Gunnar. "There you are, y/n!" he bellowed, helping you to your feet as you giggled. "We've been looking for you for a meeting - needing your level head and all. We need supplies quickly," he said, quickly guiding you to your leader's tent, the both of you somehow avoiding bumping into clansmen carrying lumber, goods and the like. "Oh, needing my guidance for once, Gunnar? Or are you going to suggest we ride into the heart of a storm again?" you jested, elbowing his side as you walked up the green hillside. He made some sort of huffing sound, like a grumpy animal, and simply ushered you into the tent where your leader Frederik & Vilmar were already arguing.

"We need supplies, Vilmar! Else we'll all starve by the end of the week!" Frederik growled, slamming his fist into the table, sending little carved statuettes out of their places on the map.

Vilmar moved to speak, then saw you and Gunnar standing at the entrance of the tent, visibly deflating & waving the two of you over. "Hello Gunnar, y/n." Your arrival didn't seem to placate Frederik at all… 

Vilmar continued with his thought. "I know we need supplies, Frederik, but the risks outweigh all rewards at the moment. We musn't rush in blindly going a-vikingr, we must make allies first and set up a trade route," he said, rearranging the statuettes to their original places. "We've sent scouts out to every corner of this kingdom, as far as we could, and every single one has come back with word of a potential allyship, and a warning that every single village here is armed to the teeth. We cannot afford to raid right now." 

Frederik seethed quietly, seemingly first accepting Vilmar's words, then growing even more agitated. "And how long will it take,Vilmar, to establish a trade route?" he spat, staring down at the other man with something unreadable behind his eyes. Vilmar held his stare, then looked down at the map. "...A week."

The effect was instantaneous. Before you could even get a word in, Frederik stormed out of the tent, leaving the three of you bewildered, confused & frightened. You knew Frederik could be hellfire at his worst, and he'd always been obsessed with the tales of glory & kings that were told to children, and you had always chalked it up to him barely being 22 winters old, but this was something else. Sharing a worried look with your friends, you chased after him, & were met with a small crowd that had already gathered in the center of the encampment. Frederik's clear & raucous voice rang out over your clansmen, and you saw him pacing back & forth on a wooden platform. Like a king.

"Hear me, kinsmen! We may have landed in a strange land, but it is not an unknown land! We are upon the shores of England, the holy country," he spat out the world 'holy' like an insult, "and we are not the first Danes to do so, and we will not be the last. England is the same as any other land - full & ripe of pickings for the vikingr. Any and all of the able-bodied, you will ride the waterhorse with me to their Christ-House, and we will deprive them of their stores & silver!"

No, no, no, no, no. This was suicide.

Frederik leapt down from the platform, immediately heading for the armory, his wolf-fur cape billowing behind him as if he were a great hero from the old tales, though you knew he was anything but . This was not a good plan, nor a sound plan. He was insane if he thought a band of two dozen sea-soaked & exhausted Danes could pillage a monastery & live to tell the tale. You rushed ahead & grabbed his arm. He did not look at you.

"Frederik, please! Listen to me! This will not end well for you, nor for this clan! Follow through with Vilmar's plan instead, please, I am begging you -" you cried, and were met with the man shaking you off as if you were a fly. He turned to you with a wild look in his eye, forcing himself in your space, close enough for you to finally smell the ale on his breath & to see the dullness in his honey-brown eyes. "I have seen great glory in my dreams, y/n. I will not be denied it." You didn't know what to say, staring at him in shock. He looked at you again, and decided something, muttering something under his breath. "You will ride with me," he growled.

This shocked you out of whatever daze you were in. "What? No! I…" you yelped, but he had already turned from you and stormed off again. This was not good. You were never an adept fighter. Sure, you had trained once or twice in your early years, but you would never call yourself a drengr. But to go against your leader's word & break your oath to him would be a worse fate, consigning you to Helheim. Begrudgingly, you went off in search of armor & a weapon, the distant sound of thunder rumbling in the sky.

A few hours had passed, and to the best of all of your abilities, your clan had mustered up a small yet intimidating army. Maybe things would go right, and you'll topple their church like a house of cards, but you couldn't shake the ever-present feeling of something being wrong. Finishing the warrior-braid in your hair and tying it with a leather strip, you donned the leather & fur armor handed to you by Runa, your weaponsmith. It did not fit you perfectly, but still fit, and would serve its purpose and protect you yet from whatever weapons the English would use to defend themselves. Your weapons of choice, an axe & a flail, hung from the belt around your waist heavily, and you were not used to the weight of them. A shield adorned with your clans symbol, the stag, laid against your back like a mockery of a security blanket. Taking a swig of mead to warm your belly & calm your nerves, you give one last glance to your tent & personal belongings - the dried flower & a bag of jewelry (that you've had to hide from your kinsmen many times) from your mother, a lovingly-written & tear-stained letter from your father, among other things given to you by your friends & family as parting gifts before your departure from Denmark. 

You did not know it would be the last time you would see them.

Taking a deep breath, you exited your tent and headed for the shore, where many of your clan had already hopped into the three longships, painted red & blue, the stark coloration of the paint looking even brighter against the dark waves of the sea. Were you looking at them any other time, you would have called the scene pretty, but not while you had to wade through knee-deep oceanwater to try and scramble up the side of one of them. You struggled for a bit before a hand grasped your arm and pulled you up, and you heard a familiar voice. "y/n? What are you doing here? You should be staying here, with the women & children!" Gunnar spoke, his voice hushed so that the figure of Frederik somewhere behind him could not hear. You could only send him a sad but stern look. "Frederik insisted." He looked at you for far too long, and you could almost hear him thinking - he knew that you were not a drengr, either. He made some sort of soft sound & pulled you fully up onto the boat, and turned back to face forward in his seat. You could not read the expression on his face.

You sat next to him, both looking forward to Frederik, who turned around as the rest of the drengr boarded the ships, his face somber for a split second before shifting to another, more spry and almost violent expression. His voice rang out against the waves, his blonde hair had already begun falling out of his warrior-braid, sending tendrils of it flying in the wind, and his iron armor shone brightly when the sun allowed it. He was a picturesque vikingr, one you would see in the margins of fairytale books.

"Hear me, kinsmen! Today we sail for Raculf Monastery, upon the Northeastern Shore, for glory & for life! For there it is where we will find the supplies we need to replace those we lost in that dreadful storm, and there is where we will succeed! I know many of you have become doubtful, but fear not - I have dreamt of these moments and seen the glory within, and I have all of my faith in the nine Nornir that we will prevail!" he quaked, earning a few rejoiced battle cries from those around you, and even you felt a little energized, his words setting a newfound battlelust within you that you didn't know you even had. 

Your clan set sail immediately, the wind from the brewing storm to the south boosting your speed on the short journey to the monastery. It would only take an hour or two to get there, if Vilmar's predictions were correct. Nervously you checked your weapons, feeling & testing the sharpness of your axe's blade-edge, and Gunnar gently elbowed your side. "Never took you for an axe woman," he said with a light chuckle, sending you an uneasy smile. You couldn't bring yourself to match it. "I have never been forced to choose, Gunnar." 

His smile dropped momentarily, then returned, albeit a bit smaller, and he turned to you fully. His blue eyes shone with confidence. "Listen, y/n. I know you are worried as I am, but I have faith in both Frederik & the Gods that everything will go right for us this day," he said, gently setting his huge hand on your shoulder and giving a friendly shake. Slowly, you returned his smile. Maybe so.

It was difficult, however, to be so confident & blindly trusting in Frederik & your luck when the storm roared behind you, moving just as fast if not faster than the longships. Too soon you had seen the white pires of the monastery in view, the columns of smoke from countless houses & other buildings rising high into the air as the monastery's denizens continued their lives unaware to the coming danger, and too soon had you heard Frederik's voice over the roar of the sea again. It began to rain heavily, soaking through the leather of your armor and chilling your bones. You felt as if you were in a dream.

"Look there, men! Our prize, to be split open & savored! Prepare yourselves!" he roared, and it seemed like you had blinked and were suddenly upon the shore: the sails lowered, and just as Frederik blew into his horn, a deafening crack of thunder prevailed your raid, and a fire had already started, the hay-roof of a villager's home struck by lightning. Frederik gave a booming laugh, joyous & strong. "Thor is with us!" 

And like that, you and your three-dozen clansmen descended upon the monastery, moving together like some unstoppable force. Taken off guard the Saxon warriors had little time to prepare for the assault, and many were immediately fell by the first wave of your brethren; thankfully you were at the back, but this left you open to attack from reinforcements - hopefully they would not come. You quickly entered some sort of fugue state where it felt like you were not truly there, not truly controlling your body, letting your arm guide itself, your axe cutting the chests & necks of already weakened Saxons, spilling red red bubbling blood - was this the battle fury felt by berserkir? 

You did not enjoy it. You did not find glory in taking these men's lives.

By the time you had advanced closer to the church, many of the buildings were already set ablaze, the smell of wood-smoke & hair burning making you choke. Not even the pouring rain could douse the fires. All at once you were overwhelmed by the sensations, the sounds - iron clashing, battle cries, the screaming of civilians caught in crossfire - it was too much. You felt yourself shake. But you pressed on, finishing the weak off as before, checking corpses (both of your clansmen and Saxons, though notably more of the latter) as quickly as you could to make sure none of them were breathing - you did not know what you would do if you did find one still alive, either kill him or spare him - and, thankfully, you were never injured. Somewhere along the line you had reunited with Gunnar, and you helped him finish off the last of the Saxon warriors, to which he gave a grateful nod towards you, then a nod to the church. Come with me.

The locked timber doors of the monastery's inner sanctum were no match for the wrath of the vikingr, and crumbled as easily as any other. You both had finally breached the walls of the church when you heard Frederik's victorious cry, and when you turned the corner you could see why - barrels upon barrels and boxes upon boxes of supplies, food, raw materials, and the like. 

You had done it. You had won, raided a monastery, and lived to tell the tale. You felt yourself let out a breath and breathe deeply in, something that felt entirely alien to you, as if you had not taken a breath in your entire life. You felt as if you could pass out on the spot. This alerted Frederik of your presence, and he turned to you and Gunnar immediately, wild-eyed and ecstatic. "We have done it, my drengr! Here is our lifeblood!" You couldn't match his enthusiasm, standing as still as a statue, but managed to let out a light chuckle. You had done it.

The chuckle turned into a scream as two arrows pierced your shoulder from behind.

Frederik let go of you and you crumpled to the floor with a sharp cry, taken aback as a dozen or so more Saxons forced themselves through the church's doors, and another had a knife to Gunnar's throat. Reinforcements.

If they had gotten to the three of you, who knows what became of the rest of your clansmen.

You writhed on the marble flooring, your blood staining the tiles red as you tried to gain your footing, your breathing, anything to keep you grounded in this world and alive as your body could not stand to produce adrenaline anymore from the strenuous and long battle, the sharp pain of the arrows lodged between your shoulder blade & your spine making it hard to do anything but lay there. At least it had not been your head.

You felt a boot come down upon your back, knocking the wind out of you again, and a hand tangled itself in your hair, pulling harshly against your scalp to raise you up from the floor - seemingly higher than you've ever been - and another hand came to pull your arms behind your back, as if you could even hope to try and break free. A Saxon, a zealot, you would later say, stepped forward from the rest towards Frederik. 

"Hail, heathen," he spat, the rustle of his gilded armor & the voice behind his helmet too loud, too harsh against the once-peaceful quiet of the church. You squeezed your eyes shut. "What brings you here to this House of God, to commit acts of heresy? Tell me why I should not slay you and all of your kin for defiling this place." Thunder roared outside the church, stained glass windows shaking with the sound.

Frederik seemed in shock & at a loss for words. He took a breath, then two, and the Saxon grew impatient. "Speak, worm."

"I, I - we came here for supplies, and -"

"And you thought you could pillage and raid and steal, or maybe you have tried to make peace and were rejected and thought this was the answer. I've heard the same story and the same lie from the other dozens of you Danes that I have slain. I want you to tell me. Why should I not slay you?" You were suddenly very aware of how much of your blood was outside of your body on the floor, where it should not be, and you felt bile bubble up in your throat, saliva drooling from your mouth as if you were a sick animal.

Frederik could not respond. In his mind, he did what he thought was best, not for his clan, but for him; he ran. 

At once arrows were drawn upon him, but the Saxon merely waved an arm & they were dismissed. "Ah, I love a good coward. Let him run & tell other Danes of his failure. Let him live with it. Take the others to Canterbury to be converted." 

You were again jostled around, catching a glimpse of Gunnar in your periphery, who had cast his gaze down at the ground with a blank stare. You both had the same thought.

He left us.

Before you could finally let yourself pass out from shock, you felt a hand on your jaw, turning your head this way and that. "You're a pretty one, eh? Not a fighter like the others. What are you doing out here with these barbarians?" The Saxon from before. You couldn't meet the man's gaze, locking eyes for a just a second before you looked to the floor again. He gave a light chuckle. Thankfully, he said no more, and you felt yourself grow weaker and weaker as you and your kinsmen were bound & loaded into carts like animals, the rain having let up, only lightly sprinkling now. You fell asleep and dreamt nothing. It was both a blessing & a curse.

You all sat there quietly for the remainder of the morning, any attempt at conversation harshly shushed by a well-armored guard standing nearby on watch. From what you could see, he was bored… as if these circumstances were normal to him. Capturing & abusing prisoners. These Saxons were a new ugly.

When you awoke, you were corralled in some sort of cage with a few others, and you could feel the morning sun beating down on your back. You went to move but were suddenly reminded of the arrows still present in your back and let out a wheezing, pained sound, frightening some of your clansmen around you, waking up others. They had not sustained much injury in the battle aside from bruises and little cuts - your injury, amongst all of those still alive, was the worst. The Saxons had not even been so courteous to break off the shafts, and the nauseating feeling of the arrowheads moving between your muscles as you sat up nearly made you wretch onto the dirt. You were not used to pain like this. Among the others in your cage - all women - you found Hanne, Runa's daughter; Ulla, who you truly didn't know her origins but she could fight like a bear; and little Lissi, a winter younger than you, and in almost the same boat, though she had trained for combat for several seasons now. They all sent you sorrowful looks as blood began to drip from your nose & mouth onto your front, staining your tunic further. Tunic? You looked down. The Saxons had stripped you of your armor, at some point when you were asleep. Figures.

At some point, maybe during noon or after, bells sang from the church on the hillside, and a small, squirrely-looking old man had come down to bring all of you some dry bread & bowls of water. It was not a filling meal but you ate it gratefully regardless. He looked upon you & your kith, bound & shackled and being handfed like dogs, with great pity. An hour passed, and you were all allowed to relieve yourselves, though for some it had come too late. Then dusk came, and a different man approached your cages, followed closely by another armored Saxon. The man spoke in a strange tongue from an open book with a cross on the front, and from what English you understood you supposed it was some sort of rite, or blessing, or maybe a curse. Then they both went away, and you were all left alone for the night. They had not treated your injuries, nor given you anything to eat past the bread & water from midday. You thought of those back at the settlement, and hoped that they were safe… they did not deserve this mistreatment. And then you thought of Frederik, and a new fury from somewhere deep within you came to light. That fucking ergi. Abandoning his people. Maybe he had gone back to them, alone, and the thought of it made your blood boil - what lies would he tell them? It did not even matter if he told them, there would not be enough men left to rescue you. You looked up to the world around you in the cage, ignoring the burning of the arrows, and studied the night sky, and how the lights of the city reflected against the villager's homes, and how the moon seemed to give the church its own glow. This is what Frederik gave me , you thought. Consigned to die in a cage, locked up by an animal by the Saxons. Or worse. You saw a lone crow circling the church's highest point. And to yourself, you made an oath.

I will see to it that the coward faces what he has broken.

Another day went by, the same as the last, and then another. Some priests came by in the early morning of the second day and finally rid your back of the two arrows, though they did not truly clean the wounds, only simply broke off the shafts & quelled the bleeding. You were all only fed bread and water. On the third day, you refused your "meal," partly because of your burning hatred of Frederik to do anything properly, partly because of the fever that had set in and worsened rapidly over a few hours. You did not feel like yourself.

As you did every day, you sat still in the corner of the cage & observed villagers, soldiers, priests & pilgrims pass by, like a dog staring from the back of a kennel. Today, however, you were given the chance to see two new faces pass by - two new outlander faces. One of a tanned man with a beard in strange white & red gear, who looked upon you & your kith with a strange expression, and a tall, hooded woman with bear fur draped about her shoulders. A Norseman, plain in sight, and none of the Saxons in the city had even batted an eye at the pair. She looked at you with pity first, then her brows furrowed, and muttered something to her companion, who gave a short reply. They continued up the hill to the church - pilgrims, maybe? Doubtful.

An hour passed, and then two, then three, and another priest approached your cages. He spoke of conversion, some rite, and honestly you'd tuned him out after the first few words. Suddenly he turned to you, and the ice-blue of his eyes shocked you still. "Will you accept the love of God into your heart?"

You didn't know what to say. This felt like an insult, after all these people have put you through. You made up your mind quickly. Maybe it was your fever speaking for you. "No."

He made another sort of sad face, and then was suddenly shadowed by the same Saxon that had cornered Frederik, back at the monastery.

"Then we will make an example out of you yet, little heathen." You did not have time to prepare for the pair of armored guards dragging you out of the cage, your arms still bound behind your back, and maybe kicking and screaming was not the best reaction, given one of them suddenly backhanded you and shocked you into quietness. A handful of villagers had heard & perhaps caught a glimpse of the debacle and stopped to stare for a moment, before another heavily armed Saxon waved them away. You were brought away from your kinsmen closer to the church, where a foreboding column of wood jutted out of the center of a clearing. Its purpose was made clear as you were made to kneel and your arms were tied to the bough of it, in mockery of a praying position. Public humiliation. Or worse.

Unfortunately worse. A notable crowd had gathered, and though you could not see them, you could hear them mutter amongst themselves somewhere behind you. Some cheered for your punishment, some began to cry, knowing what was coming. The Saxon zealot circled you twice. You did not meet his gaze.

When he spoke, he bellowed his words so that the crowd may hear. "Here we have the little Dane, a fork-tongued thing that has dared to cast aside the love of God! What heresy," he said, his words poisoned with sarcasm & mockery. Somewhere to your left, you heard the squirrely-man's voice call out for mercy. "Please, Eadwulf! This is not the way of God!" Eadwulf simply waved the man away. "These pagans killed more than two dozen of our men at Raculf. Only one death of theirs is a kindness." Death? Oh, no. You did not sign up for this. You don't deserve this. You found a new will to live in the way you squirmed against the bonds to no avail. Fuck.

Eadwulf prowled somewhere behind you, and you felt sweat dripping down your brow. You heard a chain, or a whip maybe, rattling, and the sound of the crowd's murmurs growing louder, and how the entire city seemed to grow quieter. This is not how I am meant to die.  

"If you will not accept the love of God, heathen, then bend to his wrath."   How poetic. The first slash was unexpected, painful, making your entire body seize up as if you were dropped into both boiling & freezing water as the cloth & skin between your shoulder blades split, fresh blood spilling down the already-stained tunic. The second came only a few seconds after, worse than the first, and you let out a scream loud enough to frighten a flock of crows from a nearby tree. You felt warmth on your back. Whenever you moved, you could feel the lashes rubbing against the dirty & coarse clothing, made doubly worse by the dull, throbbing pain of the arrows. The third came nearly half a minute later, unexpected, and you screamed again. Then the fourth, fifth & sixth came in quick succession. You felt bile rise in your throat, spilling out onto the too-soft grass beneath you, onto the lumber in front of you. The seventh, eight, ninth and tenth came and went, and in your shocked, adrenaline-addled state, you barely felt them. You felt yourself grow weaker against the pole, the too-warm sensation of your own blood running down your back almost a comfort. Eadwulf said something else, you don't quite remember, and then the crowd dispersed. You were left there to die a martyr.

You don't know exactly when you had passed out, but you awoke during the quiet coolness of the night to a blurry image of the strange hooded Norse woman in front of you, cursing. "Are you still alive, kona? Stay with me," she said, voice somehow strained yet comforting all the same. You could only barely lift your head to look her in the eye, to which she cursed a little more colorfully. "I'm getting you out of here." She cut you loose from the wood, and helped you to stand (which you could barely do) before realizing that wasn't really an option. Cursing even more colorfully, a feat you didn't know she could accomplish, she took her hood off & draped it over your back, making you sharply inhale as the cloth stuck to the dried blood at your back. "I know, little crow. I know it hurts, but please, you must stay with me." She whistled faintly, and a black horse came trotting over, giving you a weary look. Even the animals had pity! Or maybe it didn't want some half-dead creature on it's back. Either way, she set you on the saddle, sitting behind you so that you didn't fall off during the ride, apologizing immediately for any discomfort the position might cause you. Before she could grasp the reins, you stopped her. 

"Please…" your voice was hoarse, and you did not recognize it. "Please, my friends, my kin… are they still imprisoned?" The woman made some sort of sound, as if she had forgotten of the others she passed by today. "Yes, they are, but I fear it will be some time before they are freed. When we get back to my home, I will send my best warriors to retrieve them. Does that sound okay?" You could only nod your head, the simple action sending your world off kilter. She bid the horse to trot out of Canterbury to an unknown destination, breaking into a full gallop once you had left the city's boundaries. Both you and the Norsewoman understood you had mere hours left. She tried to keep you awake on the journey, asking questions about your name, clan and where you were from, though she mostly got one-worded answers.

"Are you a Dane?" "Yes." You pass over a bridge, the woods of England looking all the same to you.

"Why have you come here?" "Storm." An answer she didn't understand at the time, but continued regardless. The landscape slowly changed from forest to open plain, then to forest, then to marsh. You crossed two more bridges. It was your turn to ask the questions.

"What is your name?" Your speech was slurred, more incoherent. "Eivor."

"Why were you in Canterbury?" A question that she did not outright answer. "Looking for someone."

"Where are we going?"

"Ravensthorpe." A place you did not know, nor seen on any map.  "We're almost there. Stay with me."

You couldn't fight to stay awake anymore. "I'm sorry," was all you said before slumping forward on her horse.

She thought you'd died, grabbing hold of your wrist and feeling a wave of relief at finding your faint pulse. She rode twice as hard to her home then, only taking another hour.

When you awoke, you were not dead, nor in your own bed, and could feel bandages straining around your chest, and the scent of herbs filled your senses.

[nifsgender]

Samidarebaonic ☉☉-☽☽-☉☉-☽☽-☉☉

a gender that is the epitome and embodiment of summer rain. It feels gentle and enjoyable, calm and relaxing on a hot day after hours in the sun. This gender is connected to rainy days, playing in puddles, and cooling off after a long summer day. It is heavily tied to rain, summertime, cool winds, puddles, and hot days.

Etymology: Japanese, “samidare“ meaning "early summer rain”

☉☉-☽☽-☉☉-☽☽-☉☉

Genderasane ☉☉-☽☽-☉☉-☽☽-☉☉

a gender that is the epitome and embodiment of a lazy summer morning/sleeping in on a summer morning. It feels gentle, soft, and easy, like waking up late on a summer morning. This gender is connected to relaxing in bed, mornings, sunshine, and (possibly, not required) cereal in the late morning. It has heavy ties to summertime, late mornings, warm summer air, and sleeping in/relaxing peacefully.

Etymology: Japanese, “asane“ meaning "sleeping in”

☉☉-☽☽-☉☉-☽☽-☉☉

Genderhama ☉☉-☽☽-☉☉-☽☽-☉☉

a gender that is the epitome and embodiment of a trip to the beach during summer. It feels hot, like the hot sand under your feet at the beach, cool sea breezes on the beach, and (possibly, not required) the crunchiness of seashells while walking down a beach. This gender is connected to days out, hot summer days, cooling off in the oceanwater, and relaxing in the  sand. It has heavy ties to summertime, hot days, relaxation, the ocean, and gentle wind.

Etymology: Japanese, “hama“ meaning "beach”

☉☉-☽☽-☉☉-☽☽-☉☉

Genderheion ☉☉-☽☽-☉☉-☽☽-☉☉

a gender that is the epitome and embodiment of staying in a beach house on a summer day. It feels like waking up late and laying around all day, relaxing and just having alone time to yourself. This gender is connected to warm afternoons, the gentleness of alone time, and lazy days. It have heavy ties to summertime, relaxation, and happiness.

Etymology: Japanese, “heion“ meaning "calmness”

☉☉-☽☽-☉☉-☽☽-☉☉

Gendertomo ☉☉-☽☽-☉☉-☽☽-☉☉

a gender that is the epitome and embodiment of hanging out with your friends in the summertime. It feels like relaxation and platonic love, as well as amusement and loyalty. This gender is connected to friendship, quality time, and easy summer days with friends and buddies. It has heavy ties to summertime, laughter, playing, sunshine, warm summer air, and happiness

Etymology: Japanese, “tomo“ meaning "friend”

☉☉-☽☽-☉☉-☽☽-☉☉

Genderdachi ☉☉-☽☽-☉☉-☽☽-☉☉

a gender that is the friendly, gentle, and happy. It is like a “buddy” gender that simply guides other genders in the identity, becoming “friends” with other genders.

Etymology: Japanese, “dachi“ meaning "buddy”

☉☉-☽☽-☉☉-☽☽-☉☉

[emwritesfootball]

Yacht Fun | Diego Costa

On holiday with Diego costa having fun on a yacht pls

Word Count: 699

Warnings: teasing, sneaking around, promises of punishments, sex

A/N: Wasn't sure if this was supposed to be fluffy or smutty so we made it smutty hahaha

- - -

You weren’t sure how long it was going to take to get out to the middle of the ocean, but you’d made enough margaritas to last a while, so you were sufficiently tipsy by the time they dropped anchor.

Someone turned on the music, the speakers blasting the latest summer hits as even more alcohol started to flow. You danced and laughed with your friends, spilling drinks as your hips swayed to the beat of the bass. At one point, there was a contest for jumping off the yacht, and that’s when your cover-up came off.

Diego couldn’t keep his eyes off you after that. The two of you were sneaking around, but nobody was the wiser - you were friends with one of his teammate’s girlfriends and she was the one to invite you. All throughout the ride, you’d been giving Diego suggestive looks, sending him naughty pictures courtesy of the yacht’s wifi.

Your friends were cheering your name as you stood on the stern of the yacht, ready to jump off the edge. You looked over your shoulder, giving Diego a smirk - which, to anyone else, looked like you were aiming it at one of your friends - before jumping into the water.

You felt someone hit the water next to you and when you surfaced, you saw Diego smiling at you, water dripping off his face. He looked so good all you wanted to do was kiss him in the ocean but neither of you were ready to be that public.

“So, when do I get to kiss you today?” He asked, grateful nobody was paying attention to the two of you treading water out there. The loud music drowned out his question, making it so only you could hear him.

“Mm, I don’t know,” you hummed, giving him a sly smile. “There’s a bedroom in this thing, yeah?”

Diego smirked. “Two, actually. Guess we just have to sneak away and not get caught.”

“Guess so.”

Without warning, Diego swam to one side of the yacht where nobody could see him and you followed, curious. “Diego, wha-?” You started but was unable to finish because he kissed you soundly.

“Bedroom. Five minutes,” he growled, swimming away. You watched him get out of the water and towel off, following close behind.

Your mind was a heady combination of desire and alcohol, the naughtiness of sneaking around with Diego on a yacht almost enough to make cum on the spot. Just as you were about to knock on one of the bedrooms, the door opened and Diego quickly pulled you inside. His lips were on your instantly, the kisses tasting like oceanwater and alcohol.

“We’ve gotta be quick,” Diego murmured in-between kisses, easily untying your bikini top before pulling down your bottoms. “And quiet. We can’t get caught.”

“I know,” you whispered, biting down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from moaning when Diego slid a finger inside you.

“Fuck, you’re already wet.”

“Please, Diego. I need this.”

That was all he needed, bending you over the bed so you were face down in the mattress. Diego tried to be as quiet as possible as he pounded into you, fingering your clit with one hand so you could cum quicker. It didn’t take you long, Diego knowing all the right spots to hit on your body to have you a whimpering mess in no time. When you came around his cock, you triggered his own orgasm, Diego quickly covering your mouth with his hand to muffle the sounds of your orgasm.

“Good girl,” he praised, sliding out of you as he trailed kisses down your spine. “Don’t get cleaned up - I want you well aware of what we’ve just done the rest of the day. Don’t let anyone see my cum dripping out of your cunt, though. I don’t wanna have to punish you in front of all our friends.”

The two of you walked out like nothing happened, joining the party that didn’t even seem to notice either of you were gone. You could feel Diego’s cum dripping out of you into your bikini bottoms as you danced, hoping nothing spilled out as you danced with your friends.

[jjbaebank]

heyy, I if you're still doing request could you do one where the reader is this new girl who's amazing at surfing and either John b or jj see her and is just in awe? and like a few days later they see her at a party and hit it off? if not that's okay I hope you have a good one

Thanks for the ask! This was very fun to write!

New Girl

“Okay.” You blew your breath out as you stood at the edge of the water, surfboard in your hand and oceanwater lapping at your feet. Having just moved to the Outer Banks, you had never surfed there before, and with every new surf spot there came a sense of nervousness and excitement. Of course, soon enough the excitement overpowered the nervousness and you were running into the water. You slid onto your surfboard and began paddling out past the crash zone with large, powerful strokes.

When you got to the right spot, you sat on your board for a minute just enjoying the water. You had to admit that it was beautiful, and probably had even better surfing conditions than where you had lived last. That was really important to you given that you were a nationally ranked surfer and wanted to stay that way. But it didn’t mean you wanted to be here.

You spent most of the time practicing 360s which was a move that you wanted to use in the next surf competition. After a while, you decided that the next wave would be your last for the day. Looking back, you saw a huge wave coming towards you so you began to paddle forward. As the wave swelled underneath you, you stood up and went for a nice ride.

Down at the beach, John B and JJ stood watching you rock the epic wave.

“Who is she?” JJ asked. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you did a 360 on the face of the wave, pretty, wet y/h/c hair blowing behind you, before cutting back and riding the barrel as the wave crashed around you. When you emerged victorius, there was a huge smile on your face and he heard a happy laugh emerge from your lips before falling back off the board relievedly.

“I don’t know, but I think she might be better than you!” John B whistled, impressed.

“I don’t know about that, but she’s pretty good,” JJ downplayed while still staring at you as you emerged from the water, smoothing back your hair. You started paddling back to shore with a smile still gracing your face.

“Aw, does JJ have a crush?” John B teased.

JJ just said “Shut up,” and ignored him, still watching you. You walked up the beach with your board and saw the two boys. You waved and continued walking up the beach.

“JJ, aren’t you going to talk to her! She’s leaving!” John B pushed.

“Oh fuck,” JJ whispered. “Um, good job!” He called after you. You turned around and shouted “Thank you!” back at the boy. You studied him for a minute. He was pretty cute, you had to admit. Just then, you got a text from your parents saying that you had to get home so you could unpack. “Bye, I gotta go!” You shouted and continued towards your new home.

A few days later, you heard that there was going to be a party happening. While parties weren’t usually your scene, your parents really wanted you to go so you could make friends before school started. They compromised and let you wear a swimsuit underneath your clothes so you could go swimming if the party really sucked. You decided to put on your favorite bikini, the same bikini that you had worn while surfing a few days earlier when you saw the two boys at the beach, and jean shorts on top.

At the party, once you had a red cup in hand, you stood alone, swaying to the music and watching other people. Suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned around to face a cute blonde boy.

“Hey,” he said cooly

Your face lit up in recognition. ‘Oh my gosh, you’re the cute, awkward guy from the beach that was watching me surf!” You exclaimed.

“Cute, obviously, but I wouldn’t necessarily say awkward... more like blinded by the beautiful girl in front of me,” he countered smoothly.

“Wow, you must get all the ladies with that line, huh?” you laughed, pushing his shoulder.

“Well... yeah,” he admitted. “But uh, I’ve never seen you around before. You new here? And where’d you learn to surf like that?”

“Yeah, my family just moved here. And I learned from my parents actually. Well, they taught me the basics. My best friend’s older sister surfs so she was kinda my main mentor and surf partner, but then we moved so...”

“Maybe I can help with that. I can show you all the best spots. And I might even let you have the best waves sometimes,” the boy said with a wink.

“Let’s see if your surfing game is as good as your talking game!”

“Even better,” he stared directly into your eyes.

“Wow, a little cocky aren’t we?” you asked.

“Well...I have reason to be,” he grinned devishly.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked with laughter.

The blonde boy chuckled along with you. When your laughter died down, you stuck out a hand and shook your head, smiling. “Well, I’m y/n, what’s your name?”

“JJ,” the blonde boy said.

“Cool name!”

“Thanks. I like your name too, but I would like it even better if it was a contact in my phone.”

“Wow, that was really smooth,” you acted fake-impressed as you fished your phone out of your pocket, opened it and tossed it to him. You grabbed JJ’s phone from his hand and put in your name and number (along with a surfer emoji or two). When you finished, you looked up at JJ who was looking straight down at you.

“Get ready y/n, ‘cause I’m picking you up at 7 AM tomorrow to surf. Text me your address tonight.”

You smiled giddily and jokingly saluted him, saying “Sir yes sir!”

“Oh, getting straight to the sirs? I thought I was going to have to wait a month at least,” JJ teased and poked your side.

“Haha very funny,” you swatted him playfully. “Well I gotta go if we’re going to be surfing at 7 in the morning tomorrow.”

“Need a ride?”

“I wish, but I’ve got the family car. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow!”

“See you tomorrow, y/n!”

[lindwur-fr]

Sands of time: Part one

Rubrik receives a strange vision from an equally strange dragon...

---

Rubrik hadn’t had a vision in ages.

It has been many years since the Tidelord’s disappearance. His heart ached for his deity, but at this point he had grown used to the Light Flight’s prophecies. How different they were from the Tidelord’s... But he managed to convey them just fine.

Until, one fateful dawn, a vision came to him. A vision that had every trait of one of the Tidelord’s visions.

He drifted in and out of consciousness as he barely slept. His mate, Ignacia, curled around him. Her heart thundered near his head- a comforting sound, to be sure, but as Rubrik started to sink into a dream, the rhythmic beating slowly shifted its tone.

Ba-dum. Bash-shaa. Shhha. Hhh-shhaaa...

The sound of waves lapping at the shore slowly filled Rubrik’s brain, and he blinked his eyes open to find himself standing on the edge of a rocky beach. The sky was grey, a few rays of light seeping through.

This cannot be. The Tidelord is still absent... Rubrik thought as he glanced around the strange terrain. It didn’t look like the Sea of a Thousand Currents. Similar, to be sure, but not exact. The waves were choppy, the ocean dark and alien, very similar in colour to Rubrik himself. Grey, dark blue, dusky.

The aged Skydancer took a step forward, and then hopped up onto a large piece of driftwood, standing on his hind legs to get a vantage point.

What is this place? This is not my home.

He scanned the horizon. The distant swirl of the Twisting Crescendo darkened the skies to the southwest. The fires of the volcanoes of the Fire Flight spat ash and coals into the air. The Plague Flight’s miasma hovered in the distance on their rotten shores.

This was the Sea of a Thousand Currents. But it was not the same. Behind Rubrik were the cliffs that housed his Clan- barren, jagged... Devoid of any Clan life.

Rubrik turned slowly to face the cliff. But as he did so, the driftwood he perched upon gave way slightly, making him waver. Striking his wings out, Rubrik flapped away from the wood as it fell onto its side. Huffing in frustration, Rubrik turned back to the driftwood.

He paused a long moment, looking at the grey-ish branches now. How oddly symmetrical they were- both arcing high, curled inwards to form a frame of sorts.

Like horns.

As the thought passed through Rubrik’s head, the driftwood shifted again, and rose from the ground, pebbles clattering off of its surface.

Rubrik’s breath hitched and he stepped backwards, watching in awe and horror as a large, squarish head rose from the pebbles. Its fur was long, briny from the ocean waves. Though through the grit, Rubrik could see the colours of Vagrilux on this Dragon’s fur. Orange and blue... Like Ignacia had been when they first formed their Clan.

The strange dragon rose from the pebbles, stretching her uselessly small wings out. They looked more like hands, than anything. The driftwood-like branches of her horns gave her an imposing figure. Her claws were twisted and long, wickedly sharp.

In fact, that would be how Rubrik described this dragon in all- wicked. Very un-dragon, as far as he knew the term

The dragon- who looked shockingly like a Tundra, turned her head to Rubrik now. She dwarfed him in every sense- and though Rubrik knew this was a dream, his instincts screamed to fly away. But he remained steadfast, wanting to take in every detail of this prophetic dream.

Her eyes... They’re blue! She’s a Water Flight dragon...!

Indeed I am, my friend. The soft voice echoed in Rubrik’s head. No doubt the dragon before him was speaking telepathically, though the voice hardly befit her imposing stature. I am a Gaoler. I came here many seasons ago, born in the Tidelord’s Flight. Tasked from birth to protect the Clan who requested my presence here.

“Please, tell me more.” Rubrik spoke out loud.

I was summoned here by Vagrilux.

Rubrik’s heart leaped. Vagrilux? The Dragon of whom his Clan was named after?

Vagrilux was a stunning dragon. Though their origins were shrouded in mystery, they were a Water-Flight Dragon who moved their Clan to the cliffs of the Light Flight. A paragon of justice and protection for all those under their wings... And this strange creature came to the ancient Clan Vagrilux at the namesakes’ behest?

“Vagilux themselves summoned you?” Rubrik asked breathlessly. The strange dragon nodded.

They knew my kind’s power, our ability to assist in any Clan’s defense. How efficient we were. Vagrilux was a powerful, thoughtful Dragon. One of the few back then who would accept Dragons of other birthrights into his Clan. They knew that unity was powerful- that many elements living together meant safety. And thus, they requested a Gaoler to live with them. The dragon replied. My parents were reluctant. But they birthed me in the Tidelord’s domain in secret.

“What happened...?” Rubruk asked slowly. “Why... Why are you coming to me now, in this dream? Is this your doing?”

It is. The Gaoler replied. I was born with the ability of prophecy. I speak through dreams. The Gaoler raised her claw, closing it as much as her long talons would allow. I... I failed my people. Her face twisted in agony at the words, as if they peeled open her very flesh. I was set on by The Shade. The creatures tainted by the foul entity attacked me on my trek here. I was dragged into the ocean, and in desperation, I cast a spell. I destroyed the entity that attacked me, but I magically exhausted myself. I fell into a coma, and my body was buried in the sands of time. I am intact- but I am not awake yet. My coma keeps me safe, keeps me from drowning or suffocating in this sand.

“We can find you.” Rubrik said hastily. “My Clan- we are Clan Vagrilux. We live here- in this place you’ve constructed in this dream.”

The Gaoler’s eyes lit up. Truly, new breed? Are you of Vagrilux themselves?

Rubrik shook his head. “No. First-born of the Tidelord of the modern age.” He replied. “But we carry Vagrilux’s name- we can help you.”

Perhaps I have not failed after all... The Gaoler thought, casting her eyes down. New breed, the Gaoler’s eyes snapped back up. I lay buried at the water’s edge. My horns are uncovered- driftwood. Perhaps covered in brine and creatures from the years, but I am here. I implore you- find me. I wish to serve you, so that I have not failed my bloodline and kin.

Rubrik nodded, still breathless. “I will find you. We will find you.” He promised. “I swear on the Tidelord’s words, we’ll find you.”

The Gaoler’s body relaxed, her wings sagging slightly as if from exhaustion. Thank you, Dragon of Vagrilux. Thank you...

The Gaoler’s body collapsed in a heap, and the dream disintegrated into a rush of oceanwater. Rubrik was swept out of the dream, back to the waking world. It felt like he was swirling in a maelstrom, the waves battering his body. When his back slammed into the rocky face of the Light Flight’s cliffs, he awoke, finding himself pressed against Ignacia. His heart was racing, his brain alive with the prophetic Dragon’s words.

He turned over and shook Ignacia’s head frantically to wake the large Ridgeback. “My heart- my love!” Rubrik spoke frantically. “Wake up- we need to get Ming and Horus and Poe!”

Ignacia blinked her deep blue eyes open and lifted her head sharply, sensing the urgency. “What is it, love?” She asked, gathering herself and pushing herself to a stand.

Rubrik was already standing, running his beak through his feathers to prepare for flight.

“A prophecy, love- one of the Water Flight.”

Ignacia gaped. “The Tidelord...?”

Rubrik shook his head. “No, not the tidelord. Though someone ancient. Someone who knew Vagrilux spoke to me, told me she was buried in the sands at the shore, near the base of the cliff. Her horns are like driftwood, Ignacia, we must have walked past her a thousand times and never noticed! We must find her!”

Rubrik didn’t care that Ignacia gave him a strange look. She must’ve thought him mad, finally broken from the absence of the Tidelord. But Rubrik would not let this dragon- this Gaoler- down. 

He had to find her. 

[bigtiddygothhusband]

It's Raining Somewhere Else

The earth was dry for kilometres ahead. Nivolach sighed, and let his pack drop to the ground. He'd hoped, climbing the massive hill he know stood on, that maybe the other side would be better. But it was more dead fields and empty riverbeds and massive stonepiles. Prayers. He sat down and opened up his leather bag. It'd been long day, and it was barely half over still. He could take a break. He took out strip of dried fish and his depressingly light waterskin.

"Hoy, cuz!" came a shout. He looked back the way he'd come. A boy, around his age, was coming up behind him. Nivo waved, and took a bite of the meat. Salty. After a few minutes more of climbing the boy reached him and his face fell. "Not much better than behind is it?"

"'Spose not, goodfisher." That brought out a laugh, and he ran a hand through the thick black coils of his hair.

"Goodfisher, huh? You from the ocean cuz?"

"Near it. You wanna join me?" He looked over now, chubby dark brown face lit up with a smile.

"Sounds lovely. I'm Karn." Nivolach made space for him and said

"Nivolach." Karn sat down and took food from his own bag.

"So Nivolach, what brings you so far from the sea?"

"Water"

"You were looking for water and so you left the ocean?"

"Can't drink oceanwater goodf- Karn." His eyes widened

"You can't?" Nivo laughed

"No, it's got too much salt in it. You didn't know that?" Karn shook his head, eyes fixed on his sad-looking apple.

"I've never been. Too bad, that's even more people this drought's killing."

"If you thought the ocean would be fine, why are you walking in the opposite direction?" Karn smiled and looked towards the distant mountains

"Trying to track down my sister. Skipped town with a hedge witch a few years back, said she was heading towards the mountains. You heading the same way?" Nivo nodded

"See that white cap on em? Ice. It hasn't all melted yet."

"You hoping to spend the drought up there?" Karn looked at him, suddenly skeptical "Gonna need warmer clothes cuz." Nivo met his gaze with a raised brow of his own

"You think I'm walking through this constant sun in furs? I'll figure something out when I get closer." Karn laughed

"Okay, fair. Tell you what. We're heading the same way right? Want to go together?" Nivo blinked.

"We just met goodfisher."

"Yeah well, I don't have much to steal. And... it's nice. Talking to someone." Nivo nodded slowly. He knew what it was like. Farmers could be nice but they were few and far between, and most nights he spent alone, staring at the sky.

"Alright then." Karn smiled, and looked out over the dead fields, empty riverbeds, piles of stone.

"You think it'll rain tonight?" Nivo laughed

"Yeah. We'll be drowning this time tomorrow." And he took the smallest sip of water.

[dork-empress]

Species Swap

Part of my ‘100 Dragon Prince Aus’ oneshot collection

Read on Ao3

Human assassin Rayla ventures through Xadia, along with the elven princes Ezran and Callum, to return the human prince infant, Zym

Callum took a deep breath. The air just above the trees was always the freshest, always the most crisp. He wondered if the air in the human kingdoms would be just as crisp.

With a jump, he allowed himself to free-fall the ground hurdling up towards him, until he spread his wings, the air catching him, and he was allowed a wonderful moment of floating, his favorite part of flying. He remembered flights he’d take with his mother…

Well, the air wasn’t the same anymore, but he knew his mom would be more upset if he lost his love for flying completely.

He fluttered down and reached the campsite for his small band of adventurers. Or one adventurer, at least. Ezran was lying on a stone, basking in the light of the sun, his pet toad beside him.

Ezran always liked being out in the sun, basking. He said he was re-energizing, even though sunfire elves didn’t really need to do that to ‘energize.’ But who was Callum to argue.

What he COULD argue about was the lack of a certain 3rd and arguably 4th member of their party. “Where’s Rayla And Zym?”

Ezran hummed lazily, “Zym was getting fussy, so Rayla took him for a walk.”

Callum’s eyes went wide, “You just let the HUMAN ASSASSIN take the baby?!?!”

Ezran opened one eye, “the baby’s human too, she’s not gonna hurt him.”

Callum scoffed at his half brother’s naivete. He turned, feathers bristling as he went in search of where the girl might have escaped to. He thought about taking flight, but he wouldn’t be able to see through the thick trees. Besides, that would be just what she was expecting.

He stopped short as he nearly tripped over her. He thought her brown hair and tan skin was just a log at first. She was lying on the ground, baby Zym sitting at her head, the both of them watching fascinated as a stone slug made its way through the dirt, creating ripples.

“THERE you are,” Callum said, frowning down at her, “you can’t just go wandering off! What if an elf had seen you, a pair of humans wandering through Xadia?”

Rayla sighed, scooping Zym into her arms as she stood. Zym gave a short little cry, reaching out for the slug. “Zym wanted to see these weird bugs in the sky, they were like...like these little balls of light just meandering…”

“Star flies,” Callum said, “yeah, they’re everywhere. It’s a real pest on some plants.”

“Star flies…” Rayla said, enamored with the very words, “they’re so...magical..”

“Well, yeah,” Callum said, “everything’s magical here.”

“I know!” Rayla said, “it’s incredible!”

Baby Zym had changed targets, now looking to try and grab at leaves from a water willow, droplets flowing off it in streams with the wind. “Is there really no magic in Katolis?” Callum asked, hardly able to imagine it.

“Oh there’s some, every once in a while, but you have to know what you’re looking for. It’s like saying “‘oh, there’s no…’” she trailed off, trying to think of an accurate metaphor, “no gold in Xadia! Sure, there is some, but it’s rare and you have to mine for it.”

“We don’t mine for gold in Xadia…” Callum said, frowning.

Rayla made just a mild ‘huh’ sound before looking around her at the many wonders Callum took for granted as part of his home. “I wonder what kind of powers I’d have if I was an elf…” she though, “maybe I could fly, like you!”

“It’s not so much a magic power,” Callum said, “I’m a skywind elf, so like, I was just born like this.”

“But your brother is sunforged, right?” Rayla said. “How can you be brothers with two different powers?”

“Sunfire,” Callum corrected, “and we have different fathers. Our mother was skywind like me, his dad is sunfire.”

“And what about that girl who chased us?” Rayla asked, guiding Zym through the water willow branches. “The one with the long white hair.”

“Claudia, A moon shadow elf,” Callum nodded, “She’s actually a moon mage, like her father. That’s how she created the illusion of those wolves. Her brother is Earthstone, though, more tough and meant for fighting.”

“I AM a fighter,” Rayla thought, “more dexterous than a force-of-might type, though.”

“Well, there’s Oceanwater elves,” Callum said, “they’re dexterous.”

Zym splashed water from the willow all over Rayla’s face. She sneered and Callum laughed, “I really don’t like water,” she said.

Callum took Zym from her arms, laughing still as Rayla wipes herself off. “Well, all that’s left is Starlight.” He said, “they’re supposed to be really in touch with time and all wise and stuff.” Callum gave Rayla a once over, “I don’t see it.”

Rayla splashes him, making Zym giggle like crazy. “Maybe I’m better off human after all.”

[lifewithoutmeds]

February 12, 2022

There have been many bad days since that entry.

There have been many crying nights, and crying days even! Even at work! How embarrassing! Right now she’s away, in Tahoe at Shelby’s bachelorette. I am tortured by constant instagram postings that show her with other people, looking cute in her beanie, with her eyes and smile lit up, for other people, other things. she looks so damn beautiful in every one.

But I’m also glad, when I can remember, that she’s in a safe place with her favorite people, having the time of her life, and able to celebrate with Shelby, a memory I hope she’ll treasure forever. I think back to the days when I attended bachelorettes, and for some reason they were not particularly memorable, except for Amy’s. I was always sad or depressed or ..... something was wrong. Anyway.

Besides the days when I do nothing but stare at instagram and fall asleep to productivity Youtube videos (most ironically), I try to keep busy. I have my lists, per usual: walk doggy, take meds, take out trash, wash dishes, vacuum, put away 10 things. lately i’m trying to add things like “journal”ing in there.

yesterday i tried my GoPro for the first time and took it out to El Pescador State beach, about an hour away. I was only able to film for two hours due to memory and battery limitations, but I was able to hook up on one perch on camera, and another one off camera, which a beachgoer very enthusiastically asked to take off my hands for dinner, which I obviously complied with.

It was actually a really lovely day for most of it, until it got cold, and standing in knee-deep icy oceanwater without any respite from a once-hot sun started to be uncomfortable, and I left just before sundown, only to sit in an hour and a half of traffic while inhaling mc chicken’s from mc donald’s that would later give me a stomachache.

a few days ago she let me know that she saw a place in eagle rock, and she liked it, and i tried to be encouraging through obvious tears, is it nice? eagle rock is a nice area? is there a place for doggy?! i nearly shouted through my tears. she suddenly seemed hesitant, “i still don’t know...” she trailed off, possibly caught off guard by my sudden and now frequent burst of emotion.

it’s such a weird time right now. i had felt so alive with her. i felt so comfortable. on a bad day i would just cuddle up in her lap and i felt so safe. i don’t know how i feel right now, but i wouldn’t characterize it as “safe.”

they say:

it takes on average 6 months to get over heartbreak.

people should never depend on other’s for their happiness, but find it within themselves.

i’ll start the clock on February 1. i’m hoping by August, i’ll be feeling better more regularly.

hopefully that will entail a lot of social things, a lot of personal introspection, etc. sigh. i don’t feel ready, honestly.

[seanwrenn]

Good morning, North Atlantic Ocean. - - - #atlanticocean #northatlantic #rhodeisland #newportri #cliffwalk #ocean #hike #oceanwater #cliff #morning #september #summer #2019 (at Cliff Walk - Newport RI, 02840) https://www.instagram.com/p/B2FMIgfHHcH/?igshid=1ifkyktwkti7k

[rcrp-ontario]

Matthew fiddled anxiously with his host's clothes. Gross, how did anyone manage to work in such worn, itchy clothing? And what was that stain- oh god, he didn't want to know. This was a whole new level of Fergus Matthew had never known, and silently prayed to the nearest god he would quickly forget. He walked awkwardly past a couple of his provinces to an office simply labelled 'Nova Scotia'. He pulled a sour face, trying not to notice the smell in his pocket that was probably a long-dead fish.

Aislynn lay hidden wait behind her brother’s desk. She had long been planning this—a carefully revenge plot for his little freshwater to saltwater prank. The Ontarian had shown up at the office in the wee hours of the morning, a large bucket of freshwater in hand. Said bucket was now meticulously planted at the top of the door, ready to fall on whoever the poor soul was that next opened it. A video camera was set up, ready to start recording the scene the moment the door started opening.

This person would, of course, be brother dearest Fergus.

Oh, Aislynn had planned for every last detail, everything that could possibly go wrong had been covered three times over. Never again would she have to taste the viles of salty oceanwater. It would be glorious.

@canada-shenanigans

[irrfahrer]

Ziv pretended she did not promptly wake up every morning the second Poes breathing changed into a more awake tact, if she had been asleep at all in the first place while listening to him tossing and turning while caught in his nightmares. Ziv pretended she did not tensed the mere second she watched Poe grabbing his cane and walking out of the door for his little search of solitude on his own, without her knowing where he went, without her beeing around to help him if he needed her. Ziv also pretended she did not waited, tensed, alerted, barely able to breath, until either Poe returned or she would get send a message that - The Tynnan did not even dared to think about what it woul mean if she would get a message, it was a small plant of terror that grew, grew, grew inside her stomach with every second the other was on his walks. Ziv had served long enough in sickbays to know that a walk alone was a good sign and she would not even dare to think to ask Poe not to go as it meant he was getting better, but she could also not stop the fear biting, biting, biting down on her with sharp, burning teeth. She did of course listened after every little turn he made when he was having nightmares,she did of course spend the whole day tensed the second he went out on his walks without her beeing around to help him, she did of course feared at every second in which she forced herself to tend after the small garden she had set up, prepared oinments, worked with the herbs and pushed teethgrinding every ounce of knowledge about Tynnas flora in her head, that Poe would not return, that he had fallen and hurt himself, that he was alone and cold and lost without her beeing able to help. So when Ziv finally heard how Poe put the cane down and the door closing with a swift noise that sounded like a hiss, the Tynnan- maybe for the first time in this day- finally relaxed as if the worry had fallen off her shoulders like a of durasteel weaved mantle. Following the salty scent of oceanwater sticking to the man like a Parfume Ziv reached out and touched the side of Poes sleeve, feeling the damp cloth beneath. Huffing the woman pinched his arm- carefully and gently to not cut him with her claws.

“You will get kriffing cold, Banthahead!”, the young woman scolded but couldn´t surpress a quiet laughter that sounded more relieved than anything else dancing behind her scolding words: “Move your tail to the kriffing heater, I will get you some dry cloth and blankets.”

[ @poewingsdameron​ ]

@irrfahrer gets a random starter bcos 💙

It's been a few weeks now since he started spending time on his own - and he knew it made Ziv worry, he could feel it every time he took his cane and left the house, but he needed the solitude, the room to breath - and the feeling of still being able to function on his own.

It was hard. And maybe it was dangerous too, the slopes of the shore, the rocky paths he went up and down, the small town and it's crowded fish market. But he was still a jedi... or at least he was trying to prove to himself that he was, that even without his sight, he could still take care of himself.

Today his slow, stumbling travels took him to the beach. He left his cane on the sand and his clothes by it. The water was cold - so damn cold - but he was strong enough now to keep himself warm with the force as he stepped into the ocean. It was risky. And maybe stupid. But he could almost hear his master's voice in his head, a lesson Obi-Wan never taught him but one Poe was sure he would if he were here now. "You don't need your eyes to find the shore. You especially, Poe. You will reach out and you'll know which way to swim." His master spoke to him in his head, calm and patient, as Poe dived into the dark waves.

He came home very late, the sun almost setting. Still damp, no doubt smelling like the ocean. Smiling as he set down his cane by the door.

"Ziv? I'm back." He called softly, walking further in slowly, reaching out in the force to try and locate her.

[irrfahrer]

❛   hunger .   give  my  muse  something  to  eat  /  drink .

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃  &  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 !

The base they were in was for now six domes coming like mushrooms out of the before dead ground connected with short double-door-systems to the maindome in the middle and to another, so when one dome would be damaged and the unbreathable atmosphere from outside would droop in like a poison, it would always be possible to have at least three escape-routes. In fact in this manner the domes were not like mushrooms butmore like a spidernet that was always connected with the domes beeing the knots between the threads that were short tunnles with double-doorsystems. The dome in the middle were two domes, put into another with the first dome laying protective like a shield over the second with just enough distance to the dome in its middle to build a proper corridor to walk in comfortably when one would leave the smaller dome in the middle in which were stored Zivs belongings, a freighter, a place to cook, a bed, agriculture-engines, and the supplies. Much too big for one person, much too small for two. Much too small for Ziv and Kenobi, at least so the Tynnan thought.

In fact the young woamn was used to work alone, compeltly alone as beside the plants she had grown in the domes there wasn't a wisp of life on the planet she was working on terraforming- the planet was as dead as a grain of dirt adn Ziv in the by her set up domes were the mold growing on it. They were in the domeZiv had set up for growing vegetables and, a little irked, the Tynnan just casually ripped a few fruits on her way between the hydroponic beds and threw them behidn her for the man to catch. After all, Ziv was a carnivore and she did not ate the fruits she was growing in the dome, so on her way to check every single beds data and nutrientlevel, she would not stop to take care of the man who happned to be her "visitor".

The domes were build of a transperisteel compound clattered with energy generating solar cells, that would turn transparent when the blue sunlight would fall like oceanwater on the walls and then turn murky and matte when the sun sank down so the during the night produced light in the Domes to enhance the plantgrowing would not shine useless to the outside. While in the maindome in the middle was simply for Ziv to store their belongings in, keep her supplies save, cook, sleep and live in, the other five domes were nothing but targetorientated: With one Dome hosting a just big enough area with grass for two Gornt-cows, two where were different crops growing, one dome made for vegetables and the other two- the most important ones as precious as jewels- were full of slowly growing small trees that were already producing most of the  oxygen in the base. The last two Domes were suppose to slowly be build bigger and bigger step by step so the producing of breathable air and areas that were producing air and fertile earth and with that change the enviorment around them would become bigger over time. It was already late and the walls of the Dome with the patches and high shelfs of hydroponic beds with vegetables had turned pale and dull like grey tentwalls. The only sound was the water gurgling in the pipes running from the high shelfs with the hydroponic beds to the fishtank put in the maindome so the nutrientfull water with fish excrements could wash to the hydroponic beds and returned cleaned by the plant roots back to the fish in the tank. The fish in the beds shimmered in the light like harvest-leafs at the height of autumn.

"I am not used to visitors.", Ziv harrumphed without even looking at Kenobi- instead she simply leaned forward to check the display on another bed with ehr ears turned up as if she was a alerted animal and not a single second acknowledging the humanoid who even was a little too tall to stand in the dome upright. The Tynnan had worked long enough alone to work as smoothly as a machine and the mans visit was like a grain in this smoothly working engine: "What exactly do you want, Master? I send every week a report to the Temple, couldn´t the old Kriffs just ask if they had qustions? i have kriffing work to do."

[ @lightfaithed ]

[irrfahrer]

Continuation From Here! “Well...”,Ziv peered over the Knights shoulder on the tiny sprout of green growing out of the earth in one of the patched she had set up in the first Dome with breathing atmosphere on the planet.  “Seems you just managed to grow your first sprout of earth-apples in your life,Padawan Dameron.”, Ziv huffed and looked down at the Knight who she had last seen as a youngling when she had hugged him goodbye: “Congratiolatioons, you are now on the level of a 13-year-old Agricorps-Adept.”

“It’s beautiful.” Poe said and there was no jest or mockery in the young knight’s voice. In fact, it betrayed a genuine emotion as he sat kneeling before the little sprouts, his hands on both sides of it, almost protective. There was something absolutely moving about this, about new life sprouting in an environment that had been so hostile and barren before. It was… hopeful. Deeply so. “We can’t all be as talented as you guys.” He added too, turning his head back to look at his friend - his sister - and offer her a big grin, an honest one too. “But I’m not gonna lie, I’m pretty proud of myself here.” He admitted, bumping her lightly, affectionately, with his forehead. “I had a very good teacher, though.”

When Poe bumped hisforehead against her, Ziv flinched as if she had been slapped. She flicked a ear like a confused animal, for a second, just for a second, unsure what to do. “No need to boot-lick, Knight Kestrel. I am not even wearing boots.” The young woman said the word “knight” almost like a insult and in her way it meant to be a insult.She did not knew what to make of the man who had the hair and the eyes of the boy cuddled to which she had fallen asleep as a child, but who was not that boy. Grunting Ziv got back on her hindpaws, brushing damp earth from her knees with her small paws, then she reached out and patted dismissively the mans head: “Now, be a good cub and continue to ogle the potatoe-sproutling. I have kriffing work to do.” Grabbing the datapad with her researchs and reports from the ground, Ziv swiftly walked to one of the small Domes Airlocks and strangely felt as if she was fleeing. The feeling made her grunt in  frustration and she wagged her tail in utter irritation.

The base they were in was for now six domes coming like mushrooms out of the before dead ground connected with short double-door-systems to the maindome in the middle and to another, so when one dome would be damaged and the unbreathable atmosphere from outside would droop in like a poison, it would always be possible to have at least three escape-routes. To be more accurate the dome in the middle were two domes, put into another with the first dome laying protective like a shield over the second with just enough distance to the dome in its middle to build a proper corridor to walk in comfortably when one would leave the smaller dome in the middle in which were stored Poe and Zivs belongings, the freighter, a place to cook, beds, agriculture-engines, and the supplies. Much too big for one person, much too small for two. Especially when the second person felt for Ziv like a stranger and not like the boy in her memory, the one with which she had grown up in the temple, the one who had left her behind alone in the Temple and had (Died in War) gone to the Clone Wars as a Padawan. The domes were build of a transperisteel compound clattered with energy generating solar cells, that would turn transparent when the blue sunlight would fall like oceanwater on the walls and then turn murky and matte when the sun sank down so the during the night produced light in the Domes to enhance the plantgrowing would not shine useless to the outside. While in the maindome in the middle was simply for the two people to store their belongings in, keep their supplies save, cook, sleep and live in, the other five domes were nothing but targetorientated: With one Dome hosting a just big enough area with grass for two Gornt-cows, two where were different crops growing, one dome made for vegetables and the other two- the most important ones as precious as jewels- were full of slowly growing small trees that were already producing most of the  oxygen in the base.The last two Domes were suppose to slowly be build bigger and bigger step by step so the producing of breathable air and areas that were producing air and fertile earth and with that change the enviorment around them would become bigger over time. It was already late and the walls of the Dome with the patches and high shelfs of hydroponic beds with vegetables had turned pale and dull like grey tentwalls. The only sound was the water gurgling in the pipes running from the high shelfs with the hydroponic beds to the fishtank put in the maindome so the nutrientfull water with fish excrements could wash to the hydroponic beds and returned cleaned by the plant roots back to the fish in the tank. With a huff Ziv followed the pipes through the airlock in the middle-dome to go to the living area- there she would need to dim the light in the Dome with the two Gornts to lead them to believe it was night and keep their sleeping circle and their health properly. In the middle of her step she stopped. Tensed, frozen, stiffned. The Tynnan stood there in the corridor, yellow, Couroscant sunlight imitating artificial light falling down on her while her pelt bristled like from electricity, her ears perked up, and her whiskers suddenly rosen.

Ziv had never been good at feeling other people or beeings in the Force, yet she was also still a Tynnan so the carnivore she was was suddenly from one moment to another highstrung and -                                                              -sensing something?

Beside her, in the corner of her eye and on the other side of the murky wall, a shadow moved.

In the blink of an eye Ziv had jumped back to the airlock, the durasteel in her back and her lightsaber in hand, ready to attack, ready to fight, ready to protect- “Poe-”, from one moment to another the Tynnans voice turned into a growl, her eyes glued to the pale wall that was now just that, pale and grey with not the single fleck of a shadow or a movement on the other side:“Knight Kestrel?! Move your kriffing tail here! Did you saw that?”

[ @poewingsdameron ]