#moonsugar writes

[moonsugar-and-spice]

Trick or Treat! Share a snippet, headcanon, art, or vibes with your followers, then pass it on. 🎃

It is long past Trick-or-Treat now (hope you had a fun Halloween, Anon!), but here is a snippet from what was going to be a prompt ficlet for ATLA Hauntober 2022, Hunger, before I got deathly ill from the swine flu and spent 4 months in PT :) Hoping to finish it one day.

---

“What is he even wearing though?” Ty Lee asks from within her reverie.

Azula tilts her head appraisingly. “His grandfather must be looking for his hanfu, that thing has to be at least a hundred years out of style. That embroidery. Screams old-man.”

“Whatever, that guy could wear a magnolia leaf fundoshi and opera face paint and still look handsome.”

“Is that how you like your men, Mai?” teases Ty Lee, casting her friend an impish look. “Does Zuko know about this? Oh, I bet he has a special stash of magnolia leaves and face paint just for you, doesn’t he?”

“La la la,” Azula sings, pressing her free hand over one ear. “You’ll shut up, unless you’d like to wear the contents of my stomach for the rest of the evening.”

Mai rolls her eyes and responds dryly. “Oh, yes, all my men. You know, in my man-harem. I’ll have this one issued a magnolia fundoshi and face paint and induct him immediately.”

Ty Lee snorts. Azula smiles. All three slow to a stop, watching the mysterious newcomer through gaps in the sea of bodies. Just as he is rounding the far corner of the halls with the diplomat, he glances back over his shoulder.

#thanks for the ask! #and the positivity #thank you anon! #atla fanfic #snippet #moonsugar writes #hah hahaha *laughter turns to sobs*

[victorianasshole]

A whole mudcrab's worth of meat (Vivec x Masc!reader) Chapter 1/?

Heyy this is my first time sharing my writing on here, so be nice. This was very self indulgent, but if you guys like it, there'll porbably be more!!

Includes: 1st person reader, OC character(s), Ohmes Raht reader, masc!reader, Vivec, other canon characters, canon environment

CW: Murder, cursing, violence, fantasy bigotry?? Lmk if more needs to be added.

Word count: 2804

...

A whole mudcrab's worth of meat. Gone, just like that. I cursed under my breath as I looked up from the shrubbery at whoever was obnoxious enough to scare my lunch away. An Elseweyr mercenary… And here I thought I'd be left alone, so far east. The feline man crouched by the bank of the water, filling his water skin. Seeming pretty pissed off himself. Perhaps he was looking for someone?

Despite my gut feeling of simply turning away, I stood up, hailing the fellow. 

We soon ended up making a campfire, finding it easier to camp together for the night. Of course only after we both understood no harm would come to the other. As a performance of trust, we shared our names and secrets as well, as the moons peaked over the horizon. 

M'aiko was his name. A grumpy and quiet Cathay, but not without a small humour in his eye. As he dusted his rations with moonsugar, he began to speak freely for the first time that night. 

“M'aiko is looking for some cultist Ashlander. As it turns out this is a regular occurrence. However, this particular cultist has avoided proving his validity long enough for it to be a bother.” 

I nodded at his words, pondering the fire as it heated the hound meat I bought some days ago in Molag Mar. 

“I hear it's about some rebirth prophecy. Some king that died long ago… But wait, if you're doing this job, wouldn't your employer be-?”

M'aiko grinned, seeming a bit self-satisfied. “This one has no idea how I've come to such luck, but Lord Vivec himself sent me. Well... Through a mouthpiece.”

“How do you know you're not being set up for a simple assassination?”

“They paid beforehand. And only the houses would grace anyone with as heavy a pouch as what I got.”

I hummed... It seemed a bit too good to be true. But I didn't have the heart to say it. Though, it WAS pretty believable. As the khajiit would show me, he had the official tribunal seal on him and everything. I looked back at his pouch… 

“Say… You still owe this one for that mudcrab I was to eat tonight. Why don't you pay me back by letting me come along?”

M’aiko didn’t seem too pleased by the idea of having me with. Understandable. I was but a simple hunter. But I did so want to come with. He simply raised a brow and handed me some of his moonsugar as the meat I had on the fire seemed finished. “What could a hunter offer a mercenary?”“Restoration magic, Illusion magic… Lock picking and a good arrow.” I listed, sprinkling a healthy amount of the glittery spice on the meat. It had been quite some time since I had felt the good and warm buzz of my home’s number one trade. “And this one could only imagine you long for another cat to speak to. These dumner are not the best company…” 

I got him to laugh at that. I curled my tail in delight, knowing I had now won him over. 

…

My boot came down heavy on the last embers of the fire the next morning. We had agreed to wake early, to be done with the job as soon as possible. I wasn't too eager to kill anyone, but it was not like I hadn't done so before. The roads were treacherous. It was necessary to kill these days. This time, however, it was to be a little different. Thankfully, M'aiko and I had already planned that I was to be his shadow, and less so in the middle of the conflict. If he needed healing, he was to get healing. If he needed his back covered, he was to be aided by my arrow. That was something I could get behind.

I followed M'aiko's steps through the tiny islands on the edge of the coast. We agreed that the roads were too risky to be caught in. The roads had yet to become more guarded in the wake of the recent uptick in crime this year, but we were primarily worried about being seen by commoners. M’aiko had promised confidentiality. So hiding in nature seemed like our best bet.

The round volcanic pebbles rustled by the shoreline, making odd clicking sounds as they grinded together. I picked one up and put it in my pocket as we walked. The trip wouldn’t take so long, he assured. Halfway to Sadrith Mora. So I was content enough to just walk along. Passing small ruins of Dwemer, egg mines, and other small locations of note… I enjoyed the change of scenery. M’aiko was quick, however, so we never stayed in one place for long. Only when we rested. He even carried me when the water was too high for me to safely swim from island to island with my gear, simply because he didn’t have the time to go around. We used the night for travelling as well. But not before long…

“You see the tents over the creeks, yes?”

I hummed in the affirmative, having already subconsciously lowered my body a little. 

“We are to target Dralas. He is a loud type, easy to spot. Preferably no one will see us by the time it is over.”

“I'll head up behind the cliffside then. From there, my arrow and spells will be within range of the camp.” 

I suggested, and M'aiko silently nodded in agreement to the plan. I took that as my cue to quietly disappear up the hill to take purchase by a larger rock, for cover. Once I was situated and hidden, I took my dagger and let the sun fall upon it, guiding the reflected light upon M'aiko to tell him I was ready.

And so he went.

He was quick. I couldn't look away for a moment, lest he simply disappear from my eyes. Not a soul in the camp realised as he sneaked from tent to tent, many of the nomads having yet to properly wake up yet. Then Dralas stepped out from the wise women's tent. And things were quick to get more complicated. 

As Dralas stepped outside, he called the camp close to surround him, to make some kind of announcement. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could easily understand that all this attention on our target was a stick in the wheel for M'aiko's plan. I tried to think, quickly. M'aiko looked up at me in frustrated uncertainty… I took out one of my arrows and brushed my hand against the stick. Concentrating on it… And just then, I was no longer holding an arrow. I put the weight I felt in my hand against the arrow rest on my bow, breathed in as I pulled the string back… And then Dralas clutched his chest. Blood spread quickly under his sandy cape. The arrow revealed itself as my concentration faltered. And Dralas fell to the ground.

The outrage was immediate, and the armed Ashlanders were soon out to search the surrounding area for me. M'aiko took the opposite direction, and I spent my remaining magic to become unseen as I followed him away from the crime scene…

“...Did I get him properly? I couldn't see if he died from where I sat.” 

I spoke up quietly, dropping the invisibility when I knew we were both hidden well enough. We could still hear the yells from the camp.

“Oh, you got him alright.”

M’aiko's voice was heaving, and I was for a moment afraid that he had gotten hurt in the chaos of getting away. But he held up a hand to signal he was fine.

“...You're coming back to Vivec with this one. I think this calls for you to get the other half of the payment.”

…

I had never been to Vivec City before. I had imagined it to be big, but this was beyond my expectations. The newly finished Foreign Quarter greeted us, and M’aiko looked down at me with a humoured expression. I barely noticed, my eyes glued to the giant rock floating over the tops of the cantons. I knew I was small, but this made me feel ever so smaller… 

“Never been here, I assume?”

I shook my head quietly and fixed on the straps of my old rucksack a bit. Maybe I looked too uncomfortable. Holding onto my dignity, I took the first step over the bridge to the city, knowing M’aiko would follow to not lose me in the crowd.

We had travelled together for a little under a week now, through the east side. Become what I would probably call friends. We never really spoke when on the move, but we shared plenty of stories and laughs over the fire. The night before we arrived at Vivec, I had taken out the Skyrim mead I had been keeping for the right occasion. The wooden cups dyed lightly purple from the blackberry spirits. M’aiko nodded a thank you. He was quiet tonight. “The Temple Canton is open to the public. When we get there, we’ll likely speak with Vivec about your payment.”

I choked on the mead. “What, THE Vivec??”

M’aiko nodded, giving a cheeky smile I had come to recognize as teasing. But it seemed a bit forced. I understood it fine enough. Two Khajiiti mercenaries are not exactly ‘meant’ to interact with the Dumner gods. And the thought of even setting foot in the home of one of them was nerve-wracking… We drank from our cups in silent synchronicity. After a moment of quiet, I decided to ask what I was sure we were both uncertain about.

“Well, what do you plan on saying to him?”

The stairs up to the temple looked like a whole day’s worth of fitness. This god must think they’re quite high and mighty… I tried my best not to roll my eyes at having to exhaust myself, as we approached the temple doors. Or palace doors. At this point, I wasn’t sure what to call this gold-plated erection... M’aiko patted my back as we reached the final steps, heaving just as much as myself by the end. The guards standing watch by the entrance somehow emanated the energy of a side eye to the both of us through their helms, looking on as we caught our breath a bit. But they didn’t block the entrance, thankfully. 

I looked at M’aiko. M’aiko looked at me, reflecting my expression perfectly. He looked like he was about to shit himself. 

“On three?”

“No, that’s stupid.” He countered, opening the temple gate with a push before I could quip back. I sucked in a small breath, getting my heart stuck in my throat. I was not ready. Neither was he, but the bastard didn’t show it like I undoubtedly was. 

I had no choice but to follow his tail, however, making an active effort not to make myself too visible. Or visible at all. Anything to make M’aiko be the one talking.

The greeting hall felt bigger than it looked from the outside. Murals complimented the round loft of the chamber, gold lines shimmering echoes of the stories they told. Of Vivec, and his deeds to the lands of Vvardenfell. Of his accomplishments, and their power. I looked down at the floor. It seemed rude to stare. A small pat on my back from M’aiko made me buckle down on one knee, my eyes still fixed on the tiled floor. I felt rickety and confused. And then I felt warmth fall on my forehead and shin. A bright light casting shadows in the cracks of the ceramic stone. I made damn sure to keep my head down.

“Lord Vivec. This one comes to announce the downfall of Dralas of the Erabenimsun Tribe.” He sounded so formal.

“I thank you for this news. Who is your companion?”

My throat bobbed. I didn’t know if I should talk. Or look up. But M’aiko thankfully set forth my name before I had to do it. 

“He was the one who dealt the final blow. That is why we went to you directly, so you can judge the payment for his contribution.”

“I see.”

…I had to look up now.

When we locked eyes, he surprisingly didn’t seem all that imposing. More curious and gentle than anything. He was still hard to look at, with practically shining skin and a presence that nearly filled the entire room. It was hard to hold a common-folk bias towards what I was looking at. Even when I was kneeling on a floor that probably cost more to make than what I would have been sold for. 

I made an awkward croak. He smiled. I looked back down. “I have made up my mind. I propose you get equal payment to compliment your companion’s pouch. Furthermore, I will sign you a permit to purchase housing here in Vivec, for your initiative to help the temple. And lastly…”I could see the god’s feet touch the ground, not a sound emanating from him at all. It made me wonder if I was imagining things. I couldn’t hear him like I heard most other living things. I couldn’t find a breath. A heartbeat. Except for my own galloping organ.

“I thank you. Should you ever need work again, you will always be welcome in the temple for it. I will make sure there is always a position you may take.”

I tried making a sound, pressing out what could be interpreted as a “thank you”. It didn’t go too well, so I tried adding some kind of head-bowing to it. M’aiko thanked them as well, following my lead with a bow. This was scary and embarrassing and humiliating and I needed to leave. M’aiko was already getting up and leaving. But as I went to stand myself, to back away timidly, I was robbed of that opportunity to flee, to get away from the probably already sore eyes of the God-King. However, they were the one stopping me, calling my name. “You are but a simple hunter, yes?”

I looked back instinctively, but quickly changed my mind and averted my gaze again when I actually met them with my eyes. “Uh… Yeah- Yes. I’ve just been living off the land. For about eight months now.”

It took real strength to not use khajiiti formalities with him. I had come to know how dumner people sometimes react to such things, so I tried my best to use their tongue. But if this had been the Mane… I remembered giving my hair when I went away. It was much like this. Scary, humbling and breathtaking. Speaking to overpowering devines was never really my cup of tea. But back then, before all of it, when I had given my hair. It felt easier. Maybe that was simply just because it was kin. Or because I had an innocence to hide behind.

“You must excuse my curiosity. But I fail to see how a common hunter like yourself would need to know illusion magic to such a high degree.”

M’aiko hadn’t said how I killed Dralas, did he? He didn’t. I looked up at Vivec, my confusion louder than my awe for just a moment. They simply smiled encouragingly for an answer. “Uhm… I, well..” Would I get captured if I just run now? Was I allowed to tell him? I should act less apprehended.

“.... Back in Elsweyr, I once spent my days making some coin in higher circles, lending out my services to nobles who wanted an extra hand in networking. It was… Appreciated, when one’s opponents heard false rumours. Saw the wrong hand at the gambling table. Things like that. After some complications with those very opponents, it was best for me to leave and live off the grid for a while.”

Vivec hummed along to my words, giving a small nod. Did I just out myself for a fraud? Or a criminal? I did, I didn’t mean to say so much. It was as if their gaze pulled the words out of my mouth with string. My mind raced to try and read the god’s reaction. Was such activity illegal here? I hadn’t done it since I left, but… 

“A social networker, then. I won’t pry into why you’ve ended up here in Vvardenfell, of all places. However…”

I had to look down again when he came closer. They were scrutinizing me, I knew as much. But I also knew why, now. I was useful. I could feel it in their demeanour, I had proved myself useful. More handy than a sword for hire, at least…

“... Hm. I look forward to our next meeting, friend.”

I bowed my head.

#morrowind #elderscrolls #the elder scrolls #vivec #oc #vivec x reader #vivec x masc!reader #Vivec uses he/they #Khajiit reader #morrowind fanfiction #fanfiction #masc!reader #lord vivec

[vulturereyy]

Rey's OC Masterpost!! (as of 5/29/2023)

I realized I've never done one of these, like ever, anywhere, so. Maybe now is the time to change that! My OCs are from various fandoms and genres, and some are used more than others. General rules for them are as follows: Asks about them, questions, comments, all okay! If you do fanart I think I am legally obligated to marry you LOL, but really no pressure! Please do NOT use my art of them or their exact character for your own use. You are welcome to be inspired by them, and welcome to include them on references for commissions like 'I want hair like this character' etc so long as you credit me for the art! But please do not take their stories and images 1:1.

Please do not kin my characters. It makes me exceedingly uncomfortable and you will be blocked. Without further ado... Get ready to see some gay little bitches!!

Sorbet Lemonbalm

My beloved. My wife. My husband. She's been divorced three times. She's left the altar twice. She's never been married. She's my weed smoking girlfriend. She's in a polycule with a kobold barbarian and the Moon God.

Sorbet is my most recent D&D character, played during a homebrew campaign that I cannot wait to get back to. She's a Firbolg, Oath of the Ancients Paladin/Lunar Magic Sorcerer multiclass. DEVOUT follower of Selune, the moon goddess, and currently her champion, even if she frequently feels like she is not up to the task and the responsibility is slowly crushing her. Accidentally became the Fey King of the Summer Court during one of our final battles with our phase 1 BBEG, when our bard used modify memory in a very cool (and very homebrew) way against the corrupted fey queen. (She does NOT want to be fey king and has tried to pass on the crown to almost every other fey they've met since). Most recently, she 'GET DOWN MR. PRESIDENT'D' her own goddess and tanked a rival god's magic bolt, destroying her tower shield in the process and giving her those necrotic scars down her side. But this bitch survived with 1 fucking hit point!! I'm trying to keep these short, but I could write an essay on Sorbet. She's the first D&D character I've really gotten into, even doing a REAL ACTUAL CHARACTER VOICE FOR HER (shout out dimension 20 a crown of candy for making me feel like I could), and everything!! I love playing her SO so much and I hope that she can wreck shit in Astora again soon. Our sessions are all recorded, maybe one time I'll get a clip together and be brave enough to share.

May'la Sugarfoot

May'la is my sweetest khajiit Elder Scrolls Online OC. She's from a moonsugar farming family in Khenarthi's Roost, though she took on a path of becoming a chef in Mistral after she found she was unable to really help as much as her sisters in the sugar fields. May'la eventually worked her way all the way up to being one of the head chefs in an Alik'r merchant house, though her real passion will always lay in baking. May'la dreams to have her own bakery one day, though she also has a far larger dream of becoming a member of the Antiquarian's Circle.

May'la's mother, Dra'tarrina, is a senche-raht pit fighter and former member of the Undaunted, who toured in Dragonstar Arena for years. When May'la was just a nosy kitten, she found her mother's old armor and shrine to Boethiah -- still strangely well-tended. Unable to curb her youngest daughter's incessant curiosity, Dra'tarrina began telling May'la tales of her time in the arena, and her quiet worship of Boethra, the khajiiti aspect of Boethiah. Boethra worship was all but wiped out with the Riddle'thar epiphany, and as such, May'la has secretly made it her life's goal to find and preserve any scrap of Boethra worship and lore she can. She wants to eventually present to the Antiquarian's Circle so it can continue to be passed on.

Devotion (Llewyllyn) and Gytha (Hollow Knight) (I reuse names)

Devotion is my current main Hollow Knight OC. She's a tall, toned dragonfly knightess with an extreme, well, devotion to the White Lady. She served in the Queen's Guard for years, but eventually succumbed to the infection. Terrified of hurting her fellow knights or her queen, Devotion threw down her shield and nail, and fled all the way to Kingdom's Edge. She sealed herself off in one of the many caves, and essentially... Rotted by herself in that horrible, blinding light until the Radiance was finally defeated 😭. The infection took most of her memories with it, but she had repeated her oaths to herself until her voice gave out. Everything is hazy for her post-infection, but she remembers a White Lady -- and remembers that she is dearly devoted to her service. Devotion is currently in the Colisseum of Fools, attempting to train herself in mind and body again, before she feels she can make the journey back to Hallownest. And besides, it's the only place that offers free room and board right now... So long as she puts on a good show. Gytha, The Thorned Bulwark, is the knight that trained Devotion as a squire. She's brash, boisterous, and unafraid to speak her mind, even if it is directly against her King or Queen. Gytha and Devotion were very close, though Gytha retired from knighthood long before the infection swept Hallownest. I'm not quite sure what I'll be having her doing, but I do think she traveled to the lands beyond the kingdom. She would be the type to try some grand adventure, even if it would be her last. You can learn more about Devotion and Gytha here, in the app I made for an RP server :) (including a way too long backstory lmao)

Thimble!

Thimble is my Grimm Troupe OC, fitting in with @grollow's wonderful setting! Thimble is a skittish but good-hearted little butterfly from a kingdom in its death throes, and after said kingdom's total collapsed, he sailed for the Troupe on a whim in hopes that he could find a place among them. He certainly did, and more than a few friends to go along with!

Thimble starts out as general help, far too anxious for the limelight, but after watching Ashe's OC, Mist, perform aerial Cyr Wheel, he gets struck with an inspiration he's never quite experienced before. Thimble learns Cyr Wheel and eventually performs a couple nights a week in the troupe after years of practice with Mist, and encouragement from the other troupe members :)

Thimble is based on a long-tailed skipper butterfly, a frequent visitor to my backyard.

Kindlepitch the Pardoner

Oh... Him.

"Do you not feel it? the burning, seething hatred that seems to permeate this wretched nest? Wouldn't it be best to have that feeling be done away with entirely? So much pain, so much death -- let this era rest. Let us rest, laid down upon a bed of sins inconceivable. Only in Her merciful light shall we find ourselves absolved, at last granted release from the torment the False-King inflicted upon us!" — Kindlepitch

Kindlepitch is. He's a whole lot. Scorned by the moth tribe after he refused to forget the Radiance, and boy is he deep in the orange juice. Kindlepitch believes that Hallownest's downfall was the shunning of his good lady, and that it is only her light that can finally bring peace to the atrocities of this world.

You can read more about Kindlepitch here!

Amaashaa Phykiish

Amaashaa is my main Star Wars OC. Daughter of a senator and a senator later in her own right, this gal has had. Enough. I haven't played her recently so I don't have as much to say sob, but I do love her dearly. Amaashaa served as a field medic in the Clone Wars, and later a lead surgeon on the Ord Cestus Medical Station when an injury removed her from the field. Amaashaa's life can be defined by passion; enough to burn away injustice, but also herself. After the Clone Wars, she eventually went into politics alongside her father, and was often the cause of many a fight in the senate chambers.

A barely-failed assassination attempt is what finally drove Amaashaa away from the senate, at her father's behest. They planned to lay low and 'make quiet trouble' for the empire in the meantime. Amaashaa was placed upon an off-radar scrapper crew of the Spicer (created by @rabiezcore, if I draw her with other characters they are likely Rabiez') and has since learned that... Wow, she can actually exist as a living person and not just a vessel for service. There's a lot to unpack there, but she's had a lot of character development. Amaashaa does eventually rejoin the rebellion when it reforms, and serves as a medic among them for a while, before injury does finally force her into retirement for realsies. Then she gets to live out her dream of living with her mando definitely-not-boyfriend and having loth cats of her own at last.

Lullaby Heartstrings

Lullaby Heartstrings was my sheep-flavored Minotaur Barbarian for a D&D 5e Lost Mines of Phandelver campaign.

Towering over her party at a grand 7'2" tall and nearing 500lbs of wool and muscle, it's not surprise that Lullaby is an intimidating figure, even despite her coloring and innocent sounding name. This journeyman member of the Emerald Enclave is a frequent sight in Neverwinter and the various northern Moonwoods, most often called upon by pilgrims looking to traverse the Lurkwood or caravans in need of mercenary guards. Despite her affiliation with the enclave, Lullaby's relationship with nature is far more akin to respect between warriors than the reverence a druid may possess. She believes nature to be a cruel, unyielding mistress who cannot be tamed, but also takes her challenges with silent honor, knowing they make her stronger in the long run.

Lullaby is generally quiet, softspoken, and has been called 'grumpy' by those who take her as a guard, but she is not unkind. Those under her protection will often find her aiding in setting up their tents, ensuring everyone has a decent amount of food and water, and always taking the first shift of watch. Her preferred method of communication is through gestures and actions rather than words.

Lullaby was originally born into a circus troupe, the Heartwood Heartstrings, but an incident involving her debilitating stage fright ended with her running away from home as a young teen. She's been with the enclave ever since.

Lullaby's greataxe is made out of two Axebeak beaks; one that she hunted herself, and the other that a mentor killed.

(WIP below)

#Rey's Ocs #My Ocs #star wars ocs #hollow knight ocs #d&d ocs #oc masterpost #also almost all these bitches are autistic or not neurotypical in some way #because i cannot make a neurotypical character to save my life #none of them are cishet either #or even het tbh #my blorbos

[kwanisms-replies]

main for kwanisms. you can also find me at: recs ・ reads ・ aesthetic ・ moonsugar

❀ a small about me ❀

Hi, I'm booki or simply ki。

I'm in my early 30's

I'm a multistan and follow many kpop groups and have been since 2007.

My top three are seventeen, stray kids, and ateez.

I also love txt, twice, day6, itzy, nct, super junior, bts, shinee, exo, monsta x (and wonho), got7, big bang, sunmi, chungha, queen wa$abii, futuristic swaver, flowsik, psy, KARD, a handful of western artists, and some j-pop/rock/rap as well.

I'm based in the US (CST). My best friend is Sky (@/yoonguurt).

I love animals and my favorites are snow leopards, red pandas, and giant pandas. (Though I'm pretty partial to any kind of bear and anything raccoon or fox-sized). I don't have any pets currently but plan on getting some soon.

My dream job is to work in China at the Chengdu Panda Breeding Research Center but I'll settle for a caretaker at Seoul Grand Park Zoo.

I used to be big into anime but I'm more of a casual fan now. My favorites of all time are: Haikyuu!!, InuYasha, Fruits Basket, Sailor Moon, and Tokyo Mew Mew. I used to cosplay and attended anime and comic book conventions for 12 years. Suffice it to say, I'm a veteran when it comes to anime and k-pop.

If you couldn't tell, I love the color pink lol

Something to consider:

My writing blog is 18+ and minors are not welcome.

Obviously, I can't stop yall from reading, just know if you are a minor and I see you interacting with my content, you will be blacklisted and blocked. No exceptions. 18+ means just that. 18 and older. If you don't have your age listed on your blog, you will be blocked. If your blog is blank (i.e: no header, no icon, no title, no reblogs) you will be blocked. The tiny robots that live and work inside [tumblr] will assume you are a bot if your blog is blank. If you're just here to read, I understand but at least customize your blog so the content creators you follow KNOW that you aren't a bot.

Lastly, this website is about sharing content. It's not like Instagram or Twitter. Likes, while appreciated, do absolutely nothing to boost our posts. Reblogs do. Side blogs are incredibly easy to make here. I would know, I have far too many than I care to admit. Please, please, please reblog and leave feedback. It helps us creators learn what readers like and dislike. It also helps our posts reach a wider audience.

anyway, that's enough from me, bye bye for now~ booki ❀

[whimsiigothic]

WIP Game!

thank you for the tag @crookedmouth-mountainbones ! 🖤

i'm currently working or trying to at least on a spirit world au zha/yu fic so let's goo

something something zhao and yue end up in the spiritual world together and their personalities and energy completes one another's whether they like it or not))

Rules:

Make a new post

Embolden the themes that appear in your WIP

Italicize those that are loosely covered

Tag people

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tagging: um i don't know many people who write or draw but i'll be tagging @flameo-trashman and @moonsugar-and-spice

(it's ok to ignore if you're not currently working on anything! i just tagged some art accounts i really like from the top of my head)

[lec743]

The Ocean’s Kindness (FNAF Fanfic)

Beginning + Ch. 5 + you are here + Ch. 7

Summary: You decided to get that tattoo.

Note: Hey'ya, everyone. For those of you who haven't read my profile, a bit of a heads up, my ability to continue writing the story consistently is going to be short lived. I'll be out of the states for two years and I won't have consistent Internet... maybe... It's likely that I won't have Internet all that much in the coming future and I'll be super lucky if I somehow end up living somewhere, where the Internet is publicly and widely available. I do plan on writing while I'm away, but this will be it for a while until the next time I finish writing a chapter AND have access to the Internet.Thank you all for your time.

Word Count: 7016

I’m inspired to write this story by @bamsara , @paper-lilypie, and Chex_Nyx on AO3.

Don’t like to read on Tumblr, neither do a lot of others.

AO3

Fanfiction

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CHAPTER 6: THE UNKNOWN BECOMING KNOWN

          Sun was searching high and low for you across the ship. He didn’t have a special job for you or anything, he just wanted to ask if you wanted a personal tour of Shallow’s Isle while the repairs and resupply were finishing up.

          The isle was lively with the sound of thunderous feet against wood and people yelling against the wind. The sun shined brightly on everyone, and it made the sea sparkle like it was dancing with diamonds. It was a hot day, but not too badly in Sun’s opinion.

          Sighing, and exhausting all his options, the solar being turned to the first person he could ask for help and it turned out to be his partner Moon.

          “Hello, Moonsugar! Can you help me?”

          Moon was standing at the stern of the ship’s deck. He was looking out at the sea before his attention was caught by Sun.

          Moon gave his brighter counter part a soft smile, “What do you need help with?”

          “I can’t find Starlight. Have you seen them anywhere?”

          Moon’s smile shrunk a bit.

          A particularly strong gust of wind forced the two captains to hold their big fancy hats to their heads.

          “They’re up there,” Moon said as he pointed up.

          Sun looked up to where Moon was pointing, and he could see you leaning slightly out of the crow’s nest as you were looking through a spy glass out into the isle. You were wrapped up in your cloak, the sight made even Sun feel stifled despite how much he liked the heat.

          Sun grumbled at the sight as the wind died down and said, “They like heights almost as much as you do.”

          “Mmm. Why are you looking for them?”

          Sun turned to look at his partner, “I wanted to give them a tour. Sure, Monty took them out to his family’s Inn, but they haven’t left the boat since. I thought they’d like to go and explore a bit more before we depart.”

          “Okay. But why do you want to do it yourself? I’m sure if they want, they could ask any of our other crew members to guide them.”

          “I just want to get to know them more and talk with them more,” Sun stated simply.

          “Mmm. Sun?”

          “Yah?”

          “We’ve known them barely for a month. Are you wanting to court them already?”

          Sun immediately hid his little head flaps around his face to keep them from giving him away as he said, “Moon! What? I—No! I just want to get to know them more. Be better friends. I know I tend to love easily Moon b-but—.”

          “I know. I know,” Moon said, trying to calm him down. The lunar being placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, “I’m just worried. Even if it’s a misunderstanding or an accident, I don’t like the idea of them hurting you.”

          Sun sighed. Then he took Moon’s hand off his shoulder and held it in both of his. “I appreciate your worry about my feelings, but maybe you shouldn’t worry so much about it. Have you tried initiating any kind of conversation with them, besides when you were apologizing to them about our behavior towards them?”

          The lunar being was silent as he looked down.

          “Moon…”

          He sighed, then said, “No. I haven’t really attempted anything besides that. I feel like they need their distance from me.”

          “Moonsugar, I’m pretty sure they’re avoiding you because you’re avoiding them.”

          Moon groaned out a sigh as he looked back up at Sun and said, “They’re so complicated.”

          “People are like that.” Then Sun brought Moon’s hand up to his forehead as a loving gesture.

          “Yah,” he sighed, sounding calmer.

          The two of them stood like that for a while, enjoying each other’s silence and comforting presence.

          Moon then said, “You know. I won’t be mad if you do decide to try and court this interdimensional being.”

          Sun gave him a flustered look. His little triangle flaps around his head shivered, but he still held Moon’s hand to his forehead.

          “I mean it. I just don’t think they’ll like me all that much.”

          “You know I won’t go for anyone if they can’t like you too, but I’m sure you’ll both like each other more if you tired to actually talk with them,” Sun said finally putting down Moon’s hand.

          Moon placed his hands on his hips as he looked down at the ground again.

          “Moonsugar. Please? For me?”

          Moon sighed, then he looked back up at his partner and said, “Okay. Okay. No need to beg. I’ll try soon. Maybe we can join the crew when we go out for drinks or something.”

          Sun gave his lunar counterpart his biggest smile.

           Then Sun said, “Now I just have to climb up there,” his posture drooped at the mere idea of having to climb up the mast.

           “Allow me,” Moon said.

           Then Moon brough his second finger and thumb up to his lips and a piercing whistle filled the air. Sun watched you turn towards the sound and Sun waved enthusiastically at you and motioned for you to climb down.

           You nodded your head at him and started to work your way down.

           “Welp. Have a good day. I’m going to go with Foxy to the community pool to see the new hatchlings.”

           “Have fun,” Sun said as he waved goodbye to Moon and watched him walk away.

           Sun then moseyed his way over to the rope ladder you were making your way down from.

           You fall the last couple of feet to the deck. Then you face him, while drawing your hood back far enough for Sun to see your face, and you said, “What can I do for you Captain?”

           “Would you like to go tour the isle with me?”

           Sun saw you tense up at the idea and you pulled your cloak’s hood back over your face.

           “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not while it’s sunny out at least.”

           Sun considered you and the obvious fear you had. It’s odd. Sun acknowledges that people would freak out about you being here, but since him and the crew all, already had their freak out moment, it kind of makes him think the whole world has already freaked out about you with him. It’s something he’s going to have to work on to remember.

           Sun crouched down in front of you.

           “Well… I’m not going to force you to leave the ship… but I don’t want you having to feel like you have to be afraid to be here. Is there something that you’ve seen up there that you’d like to see in person?”

           You were silent for a bit, and he watched you drum your fingers on the side of your hooded head.

           “Is there a tattoo artist here?” You ask.

           “There is. Do you want to wait until night fall to see them or do you want to go now?”

           You rolled your shoulders then you let out a breath.

           “Let’s go see them now. I want to see how they all do things here.”

           Sun stood up with a smile.

           “Okay. Let’s go. We can also get some food at the market if you like,” Sun offered while he offered his hand to you.

           You took a second, but then you grabbed his hand in both of yours.

           Sun marveled at how small and soft your hands were. It was fun. He wanted to feel all the other soft places you could have on you, but he won’t. You just started letting him do these small touches with him, he’s not about to ruin that by being pushy again.

           “Thank you for accompanying me.”

           “Thanks for the invitation,” you mumble.

           Sun smiled wider.

           The two of you walk off and down to the dock and make your way to the inner isle. Sun had to walk slower than usual since his legs were so much longer than yours, and it was a little bit awkward for him with the way you were holding on to him, but he adjusted to it easily enough.

           Sun squinted up at the sky and blocked the light from his eyes with one hand. It really was getting hot today. Sun looked down at you and guessed that you were smothered under that cloak. Sun paused for a moment to get his bearings. The boats and rope bridges were full of people, so that was unavoidable, but the garden boats looked like the least traveled path of the day. It’ll be slightly shady with the palm trees too, so that’ll be good for you.

           Sun started moving again and you followed along. Soon the garden boats made the daily noise seem muffled and the grip you had on his hand relaxed a bit. Sun smiled at that. The solar being looked around at the garden boats that the two of you walked along in. All of them plant palm trees, of course, but besides that some boats specialized in certain plants.

           Sun recognized a few of them. The yellow and red spotted tubers called potatoes. The bushes full of white sea apples. The deep browns and blues of wheat grass. It was good to see that North Shallow’s Isle was doing well in its agriculture.

           Sun shivered at the memory of the food shortages he grew up with.

           The solar being paused when he felt you let go of him. He looked down at you and he saw that you had started walking towards the boat’s shrine. Sun followed you. Then he watched you bend down and gently cup the sacred flower and smell it. You’re fingers ghosted the eight white flower petals and its green leaves before settling in the dirt. Your hands smoothing the soil down into swirling patterns.

           Finally, Sun asked, “What are you doing?”

           You spasm like you had forgotten where you were. You retract your hands and hug them to your chest, but you don’t move away from the shrine.

           Sounding apologetic, you said, “I—I’m being silly. I just really like the look of this flower. Its petals have a pretty rainbow affect and it’s cool.”

           Sun hummed at you as he bent down beside you to pay his respects.

           “Do you know what this flower is called?”

           “It has several names, but my favorite,” Sun paused for dramatic effect, “is Zulon's Heart.”

          He heard you snicker, then you said, “Of course it's called that.” You were silent for a second then said, “The heart of your planet looks beautiful.”

          Sun's smile softened at that.

          “Is there anywhere that I can buy a bouquet of these? I'd like to make a flower crown out of them.”

          “Whoa!” Sun stood up, shocked by your audacity, “That’s not something you can ask.”

          You stood up with him and you pulled back your cloak’s hood a bit to look up at Sun. Your brows were furrowed, and your mouth was drawn in a thin frown.

          “Oh. I’m sorry. Can I ask why?”

          Sun took a deep breath. He’s got to remind himself that you’re not being disrespectful on purpose.

          You cover your face again and take his hand in both of yours as you wait for him to answer.

          “Zulon’s Heart is a sacred flower. Growing them is a lot of hard work and the seeds are passed down from generation to generation though the families of gardeners.”

          “Oh.”

          The two of you start walking again.

          “Were you a gardener before you became a sailor/pirate?” you asked.

          “No. I wanted to marry a farmer’s daughter a long and far away ago.”

          “Was that before or after you met Captain Moon?”

          Sun could hear the slightly playful tone to your voice.

          “It was before.”

          “Oh man. Moon must have pulled the rug out from under your feet if he managed to steal your heart and make you want to go sailing as a job,” you mused.

          Sun laughed at what you said, surprise and giddiness and a bit of melancholy mixed in his heart as he laughed loudly and long.

          “Okay… Okay! What’s so funny? What’d I say wrong!?”

          Sun started hic-uping as he tried to stop laughing so hard, “No. No. No. It’s not—hic—you! I—hic—I’m just f-flattered that, that you think Moon—hic—was the one to romance me.”

          “Oh? And why not?”

          “We met during a hard time in everyone’s life,” Sun said, sobering up, “He wasn’t willing to trust me all that much in the beginning.”

          “Aaaa… I see… I doubt it took you too long to get his trust though. You are quite the charmer,” you say.

          Sun put a hand over his chest and silently awed at you. Then a mischievous smile stretched across his face as he bent down low enough to almost whisper in your ear.

          “So, you think I’m charming?”

          “Yah! Especially when you keep your hands to yourself.”

          “…Oh…”

          Now you started laughing at his defeated tone of voice and that made the solar being straighten a bit. Your laughter made him smile even though he still wanted to pout a bit more.

          After a few more minutes of idle chatting, Sun successfully led you to the boat that does tattoos.

          Walking below deck, it was lit by several lanterns, giving the usually dark area a soft warm glow. Unfortunately, it wasn’t any cooler below deck and even Sun was pulling at his shirt collar at how stuffy it was in the boat.

          After the stairs they walked straight ahead into a room without a door and there were a few people inside. At one corner was two alligators talking about getting matching tattoos to a frog. In another corner a toad was currently getting a tattoo of a oogoole destroying a ship on his back, the artist being a hippo. Watching over all of it was a gator woman, who was obviously the captain of this ship because of the big fancy hat on their head.

          Sun tipped his fancy hat to them, captain to captain. They didn’t return the gesture as they walked up to Sun and you.

          “Hello,” their voice was high and reedy, “What are you looking for?”

           As you spoke up, Sun felt you grip his pantleg, “Um. I’d like to get a tattoo of the flower Zulon’s Heart. If that’s okay?”

           The gator woman looked down at you and then they looked up questioningly at Sun. Sun only shrugged.

          “Okay,” they said looking down at your covered form, “Let’s talk about what skin I’ll be working on.”

          Sun stood close to you as you nervously spoke to the captain of the ship. You explained what you wanted and when you want it done, specifying that you don't want anyone to see you. You just wanted a simple little tattoo on your arm.

          The gator woman captain agreed to all of what you wanted, even though each weird request you added made them look up at Sun, asking with their eyes if this is normal. Sun only smiled at them.

          “Okay. You can come back later tonight. I'll do the tattooing for you since I have the fastest and steadiest hands here and based on your description, it will take an hour or less to tattoo it on you.”

          Sun heard your purse clicking as you untied it.

          “Thank you for your time, Ma’am. How much should I pay you?”

          “I haven’t done anything yet,” they said.

          Even Sun was looking at you in confusion.

          “No. I know,” you said as you started pulling out a few quartzers, “This is just the down payment and for the time you took to work this out with me.” You pulled out four quartzers and displayed them towards the captain on your cloth covered hand, “Will this be enough?”

          Sun watched the captain with a scrutinized eye. You were offering way too much money for something so simple. Sun only knew of this boat’s work through Pigpatch. The pig never said anything about how much he pays for the works he has done on him.

          The captain of the tattoo boat looked at Sun for just a second before they took one quartzer and said, “This will do. Thank you.”

          Sun relaxed only a little bit, but he got the feeling that if he wasn’t here, the captain would have taken more than that. Sun didn’t like swindlers or liars.

          “Thank you, Ma’am. I’ll see you later tonight then.”

          They nodded and Sun grabbed you by your elbow and started dragging you up to the deck.

          Once the two of you were on the deck you asked, “Hey. Are you okay? You’re gripping me kind of tight. Was I rude by accident or something?”

          Sun loosened his grip and he slid is hand up to your opposite shoulder and he pulled you close against him. Your head resting comfortably against his hip as the two of you kept walking.

          “No, but we need to have a serious talk about how you handle your money.”

          “You know, that would be great.” You said sounding tired.

          Sun taught you how to use the money when you two went to the food stall boats. You managed to get the general idea quickly and you learned about the barter system for more broad goods like how all the clay that they dug up was used to pay for the supplies that they get on the ship.

          Sun wanted to walk around with you more, but the two of you almost got roped into an Agony Cultist’s speech to join their party and you also said you were starting to feel a little woozy under your cloak, so Sun led you back to the Crusty Waters.

          Once on the boat, Sun watched you jog towards the stairs that lead below deck. You immediately shucked off your cloak once you were in the shade and cover of the stairs and you were fanning your self with your hands as you slid down the wall to sit.

          Your hair was matted and dark against your head and you looked flushed like you were sick. Sun felt bad. He probably should have taken you back to the ship sooner. If only you could walk around without worrying about how other people will react to you. Then you and Sun could have had more fun together.

# # #

           The night was a relief to you. Sure, you were still stuffy under your cloak as Sun led you back to that tattoo boat, but at least the night breeze was cooler than it was during the day.

           People were still out and about despite the night, but they were frequenting the Inns and food stalls of the boat areas than just milling about all over the place, so it was easy for you and Sun to find the two of you alone more often than not. There was only the distant sound of chatter to remind you that you were on a floating city.

           Speaking of a floating city. You were starting to wonder where these people get all the wood they need to make boats like this, since there is no land and therefore are incapable of growing forests. Like sure there were palm trees growing on every ship and not just on the garden boats, but trees take forever to grow properly… Unless that’s not the case here.

           You finally decided to just ask.

           “Hey, Captain Sun.”

           “Yes?”

           “How do you guys make wooden boats without trees?” You motion towards the palm trees the two of you were walking by.

           “Well, we do make boats out of the trees.”

           “Really?”

           “Not with the physical tree itself,” Sun clarified, “and I don’t know how the process is done, but the coconuts that grow from the palm trees are harvested every other month and then they are processed and compressed into planks or masts or anything else that we need on a boat. Gosh. Imagine if we made boats out of actual trees. We wouldn’t have as many boats as we do today.”

           “Oh. Cool.”

           “There also another way to make boats, but that’s too awful to talk about,” Sun added quickly.

           “Oh…”

           There was a moment of silence as the two of you kept walking through the lantern lit boats.

           Sun asked, “So the world you’re from has boats.”

           “Yep.”

           “And they are all made out of trees?”

           “No. Not all of the boats. Some are made of a special plastic that floats on water just as well. Unfortunately, it doesn’t decompose very well so when a plastic boat is torn apart it choaks the environment instead of returning to it.”

           “Oh… How is it made? Do you know?”

           “Nope. And that’s for the best.”

           The two of you continued to talk. Sun eventually asked you for some stories from your world and you told him the name of some classic kid stories, offering to tell him the story that he picks, and he picks the story of Little Red Riding Hood.

           You were halfway through the story when the two of you were standing at the stairs of the tattoo boat.

           Sun had started walking down it without you as you stayed where you were.

           You were staring down the stairs, debating whether this was a good or bad idea… Well, actually, this was a bad idea, but was it worth the risk? You don’t have to get a tattoo. You don’t need one. You should just be staying on the boat, but you don’t want to be on the boat for forever. You want something to remind you of this place if… when you get home.

          You’re sure you’ve already made the tattoo artist suspicious of you and hell, this isn’t just your life you’re risking by getting this tattoo, it’s everyone’s life on the ship. What if things go wrong? What will they do to you? To the crew that are covering for you?

          “Starlight?”

          You jump at being addressed by Sun. His round face was visible from the bottom of the stairs.

          “What’s wrong?”

          You lowed, like a cow, “Mmmmmm—I don’t think I should do this anymore. I don’t think it’s safe.”

          Sun walked back up the stairs.

          “Okay. Let’s go.”

          He had grabbed your shoulder and was turning you around with him when the two of you heard a voice.

          “Oh, hello. Are you ready?” the tattoo artist asked as you heard clawed scaley feet climb up the stairs behind you.

          Before Sun could answer, you did a one-eighty and said in a cheerful voice, “Yep! Can’t wait.”

          You heard Sun sputter behind you a bit.

          You felt bad. You didn’t want to be rude. It’d be rude to just not show up, which is why you insisted on paying a down payment since you weren’t sure about your plan from the beginning, but to just turn your back on this hard-working person, while they were in front of you, made you feel even worst.

          You didn’t know how to say that to your Captain currently as you followed behind the tattoo artist.

          Soon you heard Sun following behind you.

           The stuffy, deck bellow wasn’t lit as brightly as the inn Monty took you to, but it was lit enough that you could see where you were going and what you were doing. The soft lighting was only slightly brighter than moonlight. Unfortunately, it made your eyes think there were people or things hiding in the darker corners of the room.

           There was a chair for you to sit in with a stool next to it. A small table sat between the two chairs with black liquid in a cup, a clean but used rag, and a long needle that had a well inside it like an old-fashioned dipping pin. You internally groaned. You imagine your pain tolerance is pretty good, but you were starting to doubt it with the look of that needle the tattoo artist was going to use.

           The tattoo artist sat on the stool and from under your hood, you could see her patting the chair across from her. You got the picture as you went over and sat down. Sun stood beside you.

           From under your hood, you watched scaley clawed hands confidently prepare for their work. You pulled your left arm out and leaned against the table. You saw the scaley hands pause and you started to feel nervous. Sun cleared his throat, and the hands continued their preparation.

           With a steady dip into the ink, the tattoo artist then brought the needle to your arm, and you took in a sharp intake of breath at the feeling of the slight burn from the ink and the needle going deep into your skin. You hold still though, and soon you’re able to compartmentalize the pain and shove it to the back of your head as you hummed under your breath, all while Sun and the tattoo artist made small talk.

           In one hour, like promised, your tattoo was finished. You looked down at the side of your left bicep and admired your palm sized flower tattoo. The stylization of Zulon’s Heart made it look like it was fluttering in the wind, despite it being only line art. It looked really good.

           You pull out five quartzer from your purse and hand them to the tattoo artist.

           “Thank you. This is lovely.”

           “Oh! This is too much,” she quickly said, sounding hesitant.

           “I know,” you said as you lay the quartzers down on the table, “I’m just really happy with your work. Have a good night.”

           You stand up and pop your arm back under your cloak and you feel Sun’s hands on your shoulders as the two of you walk out and up the stairs. It was a relief to get out of the stuffy boat and even though your arm still hurt, you were glad you got the tattoo.

           You were now on the Crusty Waters.

          You were in the ship’s dining area, by yourself, gently cleaning your freshly tattooed arm and wrapping it lightly in gauze. You were humming to yourself as you worked. You really do love the art, but more specifically that flower. You don’t know what it was about it but looking at that flower on that ship made your heart sing. You wish you could have a whole garden of them.

          Satisfied with your work. You pick up your used items, drape your cloak over one arm, pick up your lantern with the other hand, and start putting away everything. As you’re putting away your makeshift medical supplies you heard a ruckus on the deck. You wondered if the rest of the crew was celebrating the finishing of the ship’s repairs and the going back out to sea.

          Once you had everything put away, you put your cloak back on and walk towards the stairs. From the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the deck, you could hear that the ruckus was less jubilant and more argumentative.

          You blow the flame out from your lantern and set it on a random hook on the wall, then you creep up the stairs on your hands and knees to see what all the fighting was about.

          Peaking over the top of the stairs, you saw Foxy, Monty, Chika, and Captain Moon arguing with a few strange animal people that were half on the ship and half on the board walk. There were probably even more people out on the dock with how loud it was.

          Oh no, you thought. You’ve officially pushed your luck here too far. Someone on the crew has told tales about you and that tattoo artist spread the word about your weird arm or whatever. You’ve got to find a hiding spot.

          You pull the hood of your cloak over your face. Then staying close to the ground and hugging the shadows, you make your way over to the rope ladder that would let you climb up to the crow’s nest.

          Was it the smartest move to trap yourself in a high platform? No it wasn’t. But you weren’t thinking of the smartest move, you wanted to be where you felt safest, and you felt the safest in a high area.

          The crew and captain of the Crusty Waters argued with the people that were trying to push their way further onto the boat. They sounded like those Agony Cultists that you’ve heard crying out their propaganda.

          As you were sneaking, you heard Chika squawk and heavy feet running on wood. You look up to see a robed fox running towards you.

          You scramble to run away but just as your hands and feet touch the rough rope you feel clawed hands wrap around your waist and pull you down.

          “Let go of me!” You shout as you kick and struggled.

          They used one arm to pin your arms back as they walked you towards the other side of the boat where everyone else was.

          As you struggled, you could see from under your cloak’s hood that the crew that was present and Captain Moon were unmoving, but you weren’t sure why, until the robed fox guy pulled your hood back and you saw that the Agony Cultists had guns and knives pointed at everyone.

          You saw mostly gators and frogs and toads dressed up in purple robes, with a rabbit among them.

          You were terrified.

          What where they going to do to the crew and this boat? What were they going to do to you?

          A robed gator stepped up to you as you struggled. There were tears in her eyes and she spoke in a high, reedy voice, “It’s finally time.”

           Huh?

          The gator grabbed your face gently and said, “You’ll set us free.”

          You stilled in your struggle.

          What?

          “What?” Captain Moon and the crew asked.

          You’re unable to say anything as you gawk.

          “Franny. Put them down,” the gator woman commanded as she let go of your face.

          The fox woman put you down gently on the ground.

          You didn't attempt to move. You were in too much shock.

          The gator women bowed to you and all the other robed figures that didn't have a weapon against your crew followed her lead.

          “We’ve been searching for someone like you for a long time. You will finally bring an end to all are suffering. We apologize for your mishandling, but we had to be sure. What do you want us to do with these nonbelievers?”

          Oooooooooh this is so dangerous. You barely even heard of this cult and they're already trying to make you into some kind of godly figure head.

          Your brain was thinking rapid fire, but your mouth was stumbling over itself.

          “Uh-um. To uh, leave them be,” you manage out as you try to remember what little of their speeches you’ve heard, “They can’t escape from the plan that’s set-in motion?”

          You don’t know if the cultists register your uncertainty or if they don’t care. But the gator woman nods and motions for everyone to start heading out.

          The gator woman puts a strong hand on your back and said, “Follow us this way, Our Key. We’ll set sail for our leader’s position tomorrow morning.”

          You smile nervously as you pull the hood of your cloak back over your head and try to lean away from her touch. You catch Captain Moon’s eye as he’s gawking at what’s happening.

          You mouth, “Run,” at him, before you’re led over the edge of the boat and down the ramp towards the dock.

          You weren’t paying attention as the gator woman talked about how she knew you weren’t from their world the moment you uncovered yourself for the tattoo. You were trying to figure out when it would be the best time to run away.

          If the Crusty Waters crew is left alone like the gator woman is implying that she’s doing, then they should be long gone by the time you’re able to run. So that means trying to find a good enough hiding spot to lay low in before you can… do… something? Where would you go? Where can you go? It’s not like you can steal a rowboat and navigate the sea. You don’t know how to navigate via the stars.

          You were mentally cursing being on a water planet and feeling the hopelessness you felt when you first climbed the crow’s nest all those weeks ago.

          Then you noticed that the gator woman was taking you down below the deck of a ship that was on the outskirts of the isle of ships. With only a few ropes and rope bridges connecting the rickety ship to the other ships, it could easily depart from the isle with a few quick cuts to them.

          As you walked down into the bowels of the ship, you asked, “I won’t be down here for long, will I? I need to keep an eye on the stars to stay connected to the world around me.”

          You hope you sound convincing. You don’t want to be boxed in with no way to bail.

          “If that is what you need, then of course you may go back up on deck, Our Key, but first I must show you to the rest of our group here on the Isle,” the gator woman stated, “My crew is eager to see you.”

          “Yay,” you said with as much enthusiasm as you could.

          The hood of your cloak was once again ripped away from you as you face a crowd of animal people, all of them wearing purple robes or wearing purple make-up or anything purple.

          You nodded along as the crowd spoke to you. As they told you about their woes and the hope they have at the sight of you, you felt bad for these people. They were obviously being used. You don’t know what they are being used for, but with the way they tell you how you’ll end their suffering and bring them back together with their families, it doesn’t bode well for you.

          You try to play up your part just so they don’t get suspicious of you leaving, but you were worried that they would start taking off despite saying they’ll leave in the morning.

          An exhausting long night later, you were allowed back onto the deck.

          It was still dark, but the tell-tell sign of the sun rising was evident by the pink-ish orange light dusting the darkness’s horizon. You weren’t alone on the deck like you had hoped. You were being watched over by the fox woman that had captured you previously.

          As you were loosely walking around the deck, trying to get closer and closer to the edge of the boat with out suspicion. You were humming quietly to yourself to make yourself feel better.

          You honestly doubted that the Crusty Waters crew would try to save you and you did tell them to run, so you hope they did, but you wish that you could have been with them a bit longer.

          You hop onto the boat’s railing and sit while swinging your legs back and forth. You smile and wave at the fox woman. She nods at you. Then when she looked away you leaned back and fell overboard.

          The shock of the cold water almost took your breath away, but you swam as fast as you could with your cloak on under the water. You didn’t resurface until you were on the other side of a different boat.

          When you resurfaced between the cracks of two boats, you could hear the panic from the rickety boat that the Agony Cultists were going through. Taking another breath, you dive back under water and keep moving. Even if it was useless, and it hurt your eyes, you kept your eyes open underwater just so you knew you were heading in isle.

          Every time you resurfaced for air you could hear the ruckus that the Agony Cultist people were making. You wish you could discard your cloak, but you’ll need it to keep yourself covered when you get out of the water.

          Eventually, you come across a netted area. Through your blurry vision you could see tiny little creatures swimming lazily about. From what you could tell, it also led to a place of solid ground.

          You grip the netting with both hands and a foot, then force it open with a dull tearing sound. Then you squeezed yourself through the hole.

          The lazy swimmers on the other side of the net became more frantic but some of them came closer to you. Through your blurry vision you saw a gator about the size of a two-year-old human.

          Oh, no! You thought to yourself. This is that community baby holder place that Monty was talking about.

          You resurface quickly to get some air, then you dived back down to the hole you made. You shooed away the kids that were curiously looking through the hole, then you took off your belt and as quickly and securely as you could, you sewed up the hole.

          You got out of the baby pool as soon as you could, but the kids making noise at your appearance had alerted the adults watching over the area and the Agony Cultists that were chasing you.

          You got rid of your pants, since you didn’t have our belt anymore and they were just dragging you down, and your ran over the decks of various ships. Ducking down and hiding in the shadows and hanging off the side of boats as best as you could.

          You were hesitating about whether you should go into someone’s ship to hide in the laundry room or something, when you felt clawed, scaley hands wrap around your arms and over your mouth. You scream on reflex as you are pulled backwards into the darkness of some dense foliage that was growing on the garden ship you were on. You were glad that your scream was muffled, because not long after you were dragged into the foliage, a group of Agony Cultists were looking around for you before moving on.

          The person holding you sighed in relief then said, “Sorry we’re meeting each other again on such bad terms, Cher.”

          Their grip loosened and you turn around to see a gator woman with long red hair like Monty has, but it’s in a braid instead of up in a mohawk.

          Your eyes widen at the sight, “Val?”

          “The one and only,” she said with a wink.

          You realized your hood was down and you bring it up and over your face.

          “You’re helping me?”

          “Of course. Monty and the rest of the Crusty Waters asked for help, but I would have lent a hand if I found out about this before they asked. Now come on. Let’s get you away from this Isle.”

          Taking your hand, Val leads you over and, sometimes, through the boats of the isle. Expertly weaving and winding her way to a destination you trusted would be safe.

          As the sun started to jut its head over the horizon, you saw that Val had led you to a far side of the isle that looked abandoned but cared for. On the deck of one of these boats, you saw a few people standing by a hanging rowboat that had people waiting in it.

          You immediately recognized the figures in the rowboat.

          “Chika! Monty!”

          You run at them, flinging yourself overboard and flopping onto the side of the rowboat.

          You’re picked up by feathery hands and are immediately embraced.

          “Oh! Chick-a-pea! We were so worried about you.”

          Chika’s swinging you side to side as she hugs you tightly.

          Your hood to your cloak falls back and Monty took his chance to rough up your hair as Chika hugged you.

          You said, “I’m so happy to see you guys! I thought you all left!”

          “We weren’t going to leave you behind, Sug’,” Chika said.

          Monty rumbled his agreement.

          There were a few murmurings behind you, and you look over your shoulder at a frog, a black bear, and a withered old looking gator gawking at you. Val’s smiling a toothy smile at the three of you.

          You wiggle out of Chika’s grip and pull your hood back over your face.

          “Thank you everyone for helping to set this up and thank you for leading me here Val. Also, I broke into the child sanctuary area so please get someone to fix the netting properly, and soon, okay?”

          The frog staggered at that, then lightly bapped at the black bear, “Let’s go take care of that.”

          The two of them run off while Monty talks to the grandpa looking gator and Val.

          “I’ll see you guys around next time, though, we may avoid coming here for a while,” Monty said.

          “We know you’ll be taken care of,” the older gator said.

          “Head bump!”

          Val and Monty head butted each other. Their scales clacking as they did.

          Then Val turned to you and said, “It was good to actually see your face.”

          “Are you sure about that,” you asked.

          Chika and Monty were lowering the rowboat.

          The old gator and Val leaned over the railing of the boat to watch the three of you lower into the water.

          “Of course. It’s not everyday you get to see an interdimensional creature like the people do from the legends. Keep them safe from Sirens for me will, ya?”

          You raise your hands up at the gator woman and yelled, “That was a fluke!”

          You could hear their laughter over the sound of the rowboat splashing into the sea.

          Monty waved at them, “Bye!”

          Chika started rowing away.

          There was a few moments of Monty loudly waving goodbye to his family. Then there was silence.

          Monty took a seat by Chika to help with the rowing and Monty asked you a question.

          “So, what happened to your pants?”

#fnaf #fanfiction #y/n #pirate au #alternate universe #chapter 6

[cyanide-latte]

Tell us about your Stranger Things oneshot!

Oh, thank you for asking~!! It’s more in the very rough in-between stage of brainstorming and outlining, but it’s been on my mind ever since I started my very slow rewatch of s2 the other day.

It’s probably not going to surprise anyone and I doubt it’ll be the first time anybody has played with the idea, but I wanted to write a oneshot centered around Barbara. Specifically her ghost. Yes, her death absolutely took me by surprise and I would have liked her to stay around, but I also really appreciate the trope subversion in killing her off. She had strong “Final Girl” vibes when she was introduced, and in killing her rather than Nancy... Well, I’ll go on a ramble about the importance of Final Girls and feminism another time.

I know a lot of people wanted Barb to live, and I would have loved to see her survive, and for us to get more of her character in general outside of *just* helping to shape Nancy’s character. But I also love the potential for telling stories about her death, and I’ve got a soft spot for benevolent ghosts. Between the trauma of her death, the tense note on which she parted ways with Nancy, and the fear and uncertainty of being in the Upside Down, I feel like there’s plenty of avenue there to explore her character, including moving through some of the phases of grief for herself?

It also hit me at some point that, since it’s a pretty safe assumption Barb knew Mike Wheeler by virtue of her close friendship with Nancy, she may have met the other boys in the party. And it’s pretty incredible that Will survived his time in the Upside Down for as long as he did, so I like to think it’s possible that Barb may have somehow helped him, however indirectly.  With that in mind, I was struggling with a title until earlier this morning, when I recalled Nancy jokingly saying to Barb that she could be Nancy’s guardian for the night (when they were going to Steve’s,) and I realized then that was the perfect title for what I’ve got in mind.

(Might also write this one in second-person, present-tense narrative? I want to improve at that narrative style and I think it might better help the reader as well as myself to really empathize with Barb throughout the oneshot.)

#thanks for the ask! #moonsugar-and-spice #I'm sorry I got so verbose ; ; #my writing and fics #Cyanide speaks

[tastesoftamriel]

[A flourishing writing style decorates the letter you open, it faintly smells of the sea]

Dearest Talviel,

I'm hoping your travels are treating you well, and I hope this letter gets to you wherever you are.

I have no faith in this quivering Bosmer courier, but considering I have just raided his village, I guess I can understand why he's quivering. I know you disapprove of such things, but it is the Maormer way. If I don't raid, I don't control my ship, and a Maormer without a ship is nothing at all.

I write to you to share a recipe that I know you'll at the very least find fascinating.

I know this to be popular on the Maormer controlled islands south of Summerset, but it has its origins on Khenarthi's Roost, when it was Maormer territory.

This raw fish salad is of Maormer and Khajiit influence, and it is simply just divine.

You will need

500g of raw tuna or cod, it doesn't matter which, pick your preference.

A half cup of coconut cream.

Two chopped spring onions.

One diced red onion.

Some diced cucumber and tomato, this is all to taste.

One or two chillies finely chopped.

Enough lemon juice to cover the fish in a bowl.

And some salt to taste.

If you want some zing, just a pinch of moonsugar.

I also like to cook some ash yam I plundered from witless Telvanni straying too far south, let it cool and add that to this.

Cover your fish with the lemon juice and let sit while dicing the vegetables. You don't want it to sit too long, you still want the taste of freshly caught fish.

Drain the fish and discard the lemon juice, add the vegetables and coconut cream with some salt and mix well together.

Let it sit for about half an hour, have your ice mage keep it cool. This allows the flavours to blend and the juices from the vegetables will stop it from being too thick.

This is usually eaten on its own, or with some flat bread, it also accompanies more heartier dishes as a side. And it is an absolute treat for my sailors when we dock, otherwise they'd never get off my ship.

I hope this serves you well for your efforts of collecting recipes.

Kindest Regards,

Captain Aistelmo of the Maormer Navy.

Dear Captain,

Thank you for sparing the courier, and thank you for this recipe! I am, in all honesty, shocked that after years of silence from Pyandonea, that I would be contacted out of all people in Tamriel by the Maormer! It is a huge, and terrifying honour.

And, of course, this recipe will be deeply cherished, and the Thalmor will not hear of this. Last thing either of us need is a swarm of justiciars, I think. ~Talviel

#Asks #Recipe #Recipes #Maormer recipes #Food #cooking #world building #worldbuilding #TES #The Elder Scrolls #Maormer #Submission

[ohmygodtheywereparabatai]

ATLA Q&A

Thanks for the tag @old-and-new-friends!! I made another post since I already started live-blogging S&B and if I’m doing it wrong I’ll get hatecrimed for forcing my followers to scroll down a bunch.

Speaking of which, just in case, a friendly disclaimer in meme format:

Back to the ATLA questions!

General questions:

1. What’s your favorite character?

When it isn’t the Worst Man, it’s the Best Girl 🥰 I alternate

2. What’s your comfort character?

Zhao, actually. I too would like to punch and smash things and make stupid mistakes because quarantine leaves a pent-up beast of emotions inside you, and perfectionism doesn’t help. Sometimes you just want to commit some light arson. (Maybe don’t. Talk to someone, or run a mile 😆)

3. Which element would you bend if you could choose?

Water. It pretty. And versatile!

4. What’s your favorite nation?

Fire Nation!! Damn the fashion is CHIC, and I love me some rich history detailing the perversion of cultural values and how it shapes its citizens, especially in wartime. And a city of hotmen built right on top of a dormant volcano?? Great idea.

5. What makes you love ATLA the most?

Never dumbs things down. Its best characters are raked through the mud to get to where they are, nothing falls into their lap, and every name has a story behind it. A fair attempt at Asian rep aside, like old-and-new-friends said, the world is one you could spend a lifetime exploring. Also... Azula and Zhao hot.

Could get you attacked questions:

To be fair, most of my answers are going to get me attacked.

1. What’s your least favorite character from the Gaang?

Inconceivable. I’ll only say Sokka for petty reasons, like, his voice is a bit too cracky at times. Next.

2. What character do you think is severely underrated?

Kei Lo from the comics? Poke all the fun you want at his Zac Efron hair, he had a good arc and good heart. It felt like he was brushed under the rug so the plot could revolve around Maiko (a great team, but still...) I had the urge to scribble down the rest of his story after the breakup, esp a possible comeback with more grey morals.

3. What’s your least favorite nation?

Guess I should say Fire Nation for being so Rude(tm), though that’s mostly on Sozin. Toz, too, at one point.

4. What’s your controversial ATLA opinion?

Oof! They’re only controversial because they aren’t allowed to exist in peace. Let’s go with something mild and generally agreed upon ~ there should have been more brown characters/distinct homage to South-Asian culture?

Shipping questions:

1. What’s your favorite ship and why?

I’m a fan of Zhaozai. They deserve each other in every sense, ironically and unironically. 😌 Why not write a 20k tango between the evil monarch and bastard admiral while diving into the messier nuances of choosing your nation over yourself, and losing the distinction between right and wrong, fear and willingness, love and torture? Look! They even have the same laugh 🌈🥰

2. What’s your least favorite ship and why?

Whichever one Katara, Haru, his dad, and all the earthbenders were held on. Not cool.

I really have nothing against any ship. The right effort put in can make a lot of them work!

3. Do you sometimes self-insert?

Isn’t that the purpose of OCs? 😆 A part of ourselves goes into everything we create, so... maybe a smidge? Most of my characters are braver, stronger, and smarter than I am, for sure.

4. What’s your crack ship?

At the moment, Lu Ten and Zhao! It’s like injecting pure seratonin into your veins. They give me big Rachel and Chloe vibes from Life is Strange: Before the Storm. Never let it be said I’m not weak for love between soldiers. Going to hell and back is actually something that can be so personal...

5. What non-canon ship would you make happen if you were the creator?

I could see Longshot and Smellerbee genuinely happening. That would be cute to see! The tiniest hint at LuZhao would also be so heartwarming.

No pressure tags: @thebluesunflower44 @kuchenwithjnk @moonsugar-and-spice @crookedmouth-mountainbones @guiltyportfolio @fire-lady-ilah @klm-zoflorr @flamehotman and anyone who sees this and is interested!

Link to the original post here

#thanks for the tag! #atla q&a

[love-speaks-in-flowers]

What are some of your favourite pieces of writing (fics, books, etc.) that you read in 2020? Is there a place you've always wanted to travel to?

I read a lot in 2020 (had a lot of unexpected down time, ha), but if I were to name favorites, for fanfiction I’d definitely have to shout out @moonsugar-and-spice’s Avatar the Last Airbender piece, Storms of Ice and Fire. The pairing is unconventional, to say the least (Ozara - Ozai/Katara aged up), but don’t scrap it on that alone or you will be missing out on something truly exceptional. It’s still a WIP, but absolutely one of a kind and worth checking out, if for nothing other than the worldbuilding and her unforgettable OC, Lu Da.

Another fic I loved, not ATLA this time but the Grishaverse fandom, was Touch by spaceOdementia. Kaz and Inej’s dynamic in Six of Crows was so heart-wrenching and well done, and the author explores their evolving intimacy.

As for novels, I’m a little late to the party, but the trilogy that sticks out the most for me is Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor. One of the most imaginative fantasy stories and characters I’ve read in a long time and I definitely recommend it.

A place I’ve always wanted to travel to... I’ve always wanted to visit Australia, even if everything there is trying to kill me! I’ve been captivated by it since learning about it in elementary school. Did you know that some of eastern Australia is covered by large amounts of snake-infested seafoam?! *dives in*

#fun questions #ask game #thanks for the ask anon!

[rakimaiirisa]

Meet the Muse

Tagged by @kittinkanin Thank you 😊❤

|| The Basics ||

Name: Arisa Bear-Tooth

Nickname(s): Farkas and Vilkas willre really the only ones who will call her Ari occasionally   

Age: 22

Species: half elf  (nord/bosmer/altmer) She takes after her mother, Elena (nord) but there's some subtle hints of her father, Rilgor(bosmer/altmer), that are noticeable 

|| Personal ||

Alignment: chaotic neutral

Religious Belief: tbh, Shes not really interested in religion but If i were to say a what god she respects, its Mara

Sins: Lust / Greed / Gluttony / Sloth / Pride / Envy / Wrath

Virtues: Chastity / Charity / Diligence / Humility / Kindness / Patience / Justice

Primary Goals In Life: To eventually explore all of Tamrial and beyond its borders.  

Languages Known: English, she’s slowly trying to decipher the old nordic and dwemer runes she comes across while exploring. When she comes to terms with the fact she is dragonborn, she studies with the greybeards to learn the language of the dragons.  Learning the language almost feels like remembering a dream. Its fuzzy and hard to understand at times, but the memory of it is there.

Secrets: She has a small journal where she writes down her thoughts on everything she feels. Lol, there is a whole section of journal dictated to her thoughts on Vilkas, from her first impressions of when she met him to her slowly developing feeling she has for him. 

Quirks:night owl, cant sit still, loves to explore regardless of how dangerous the the location can be

Savvies: fast learner,  Creative

|| Physical ||

Build: Slender / Scrawny / Bony / Fit / Athletic / Herculean / Babyfat / Pudgy / Obese / Other

Height: 5′ 6

Weight: 140

Scars/Birthmarks: small mole on left side of face, scar on back from a battle with group of bandits while she was a mercenary. Never did heal properly even with healing magic.

Abilities/Powers: healer, destruction mage, conjurer, is extremely proficient in handling 2 handed weapons

Restrictions: Cant think of any atm

|| Favorites ||

Favorite Food:  honey glazed venison with a side of grilled seasoned leeks and a side of steamed cabbage and potatoes flavored with salt, butter and some strange ice pepper imported by Belethor. Also a snowberry jam filled pastry roll  sprinkled with moonsugar  that Tilma makes on holidays and important events for the companions.

Favorite Drink: A drink Farkas made that he calls the Redwolf.   Its spicy going down but man,the kick it has makes it worth it.

Favorite Color: Grey and blue

Favorite Music Genre: something lively  and you can dance to 

Favorite Book Genre: Anything on the dwemer, anything pertaining to the history of the dragons,

Favorite Movie Genre: na

Favorite Season: autumn, spring

Favorite Butt Type: the muscular asses of Vilkas and Farkas XD

Favorite Swear Word: gods damned, fuck off

Favorite Scent:  The scent of dragon tongue in bloom, the smell of crushed jazberry grapes, After becoming a werewolf, she found the scent of Vilkas was intoxicating. He smelled of the crisp frigid air of the tundra and the oil Earlound has for oiling the skyforge weapons. But underneath those scents, there is the distinct rich manly smell of him, It is indescribable but the scent is captivating for her and often makes her pause and her skin tingle whenever she catches the smell of it. The joys of being a werewolf, huh? XD

Favorite Quote: Eyes on the prey, Not the Horizon -Farkas , Dont Let the bloodlust of the Hunt distract you.-Vilkas

  || Fun Stuff ||

“Boss” Theme Music:Come and get it (Razihel remix)

Loud Burper Or Soft Burper: Loud / Soft / Neither

Sings In The Shower: Yes / No/sometimes

Likes Bad Puns: Yes / No / Only if they are relevant to the situation

This was fun to do :)  Tagging @oneforsorrovv @opal-bee @malwa1216 @thegreatdivide @pmccrum @xxekmrxx @missgamerin @madman-of-amargosa @avaleon @danse-or-farkas @shadowtigers @bosdansefanatic and whoever else would like to do this :) No pressure if you don't want to ❤

#skyrim #skyrimoc #tes #arisa #muse #meet the muse #tumblr games

[moonsugar-and-spice]

Ohoho, for the Prompt Ask:

🌧 #17: “We never called it what it was.”

Pairing… Ozara?

OR

🐉 #2: “Oh, good. You’re here. Hold this.”

Dorian Pavus & character of your choice.

Hey, remember this from, like, 84 years ago? I couldn't choose between them, so I'll get around to posting the Ozara one sometime next century.

🐉2: “Oh, good. You’re here. Hold this.”

Or, the one where Cassandra is the only adult in the room.

Send me a prompt and a pairing.

+++

They prepared as well as they could in the time they had. Which was to say terribly.

A mysterious stranger. An anonymous letter. Rumors of a man hosting a cult that was preparing to sacrifice a kidnapped child come midnight. It had all happened so quickly, just as they were approaching the gates to put Val Royeaux behind them, and now the motley agents of the Inquisition found themselves lurking at the city’s eastern fringe, bathed in the evening’s fading glow.

On a humid breeze wafted the tang of where the river kissed the city’s walls. Cassandra rechecked the map, then trained her eyes on a slice of mansion visible through the network of stone buildings and wrought iron fences, while the others shifted in boredom or restlessness.

“Chateau de Beaumier,” she nodded, her face set in grim lines. “Our suspect, the owner, is a wealthy man of Antivan descent, full name Dego Bonaccorso de Barbarisi.”

A brazen snort cut her off. Gazes swerved to the small elven archer leaning back against a tree, one foot propped up on the trunk.

“Shew, that’s a verbal marathon, innit?” Sera snickered. “Rich asses and their names, you’re out of breath before you even reach the end.”

Cassandra fixed her with a look, dispelling the approving smirks on the dwarf and qunari’s faces in turn.

“Unfortunately," she continued pointedly, "judging from the heavy guard presence around the perimeter—”

“Bet kids like that have to make up a song just to learn how to spell it.”

The scar on the warrior’s cheek tightened with the muscle in her jaw as the boorish elf girl barreled on, picking grime out from under a fingernail.

“Like, their school award ceremonies, or whatever hoity-toity shit they do, being called up on stage just to have your name massacred in front of hundreds. Probably not even spelled right on the award.”

“If you are quite finished…” But she trailed off, the map crinkling in her grip.

Cassandra became aware of the indistinct mumblings of delight where, in her periphery, Dorian was turning over a girthy, elongated object. Her eyes slid closed on a heavy sigh.

“What is your problem, mage?”

“My problem?” he asked, a hand flying to his chest in mock affront.  “Dear me, I have so many, but a cutting wit and probable demonic origins are the ones that should concern you.”

Cassandra turned to face him dead on, but whatever she had intended to say dried up, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. “What. Is that?”

Dorian spared a quick glance at the polished dildo in his hand. “If you were literally anyone else, I’d be surprised.”

“I know what it is,” she snapped. “Why do you have it?”

“I hadn’t worn this cloak in a while, and I’d forgotten it was in my pocket. I was, uh, holding it for a friend.”

“It’s me,” the qunari chipped in, “I’m friend.”

“Ugh, nevermind, just…” Cassandra massaged between her aching brows. “Please, everyone, let’s stay focused.”

“Cassie's got it, we’re losing time and musn't let the”—Iron Bull paused, wrestling with his budding grin—“Dego by before we complete our heroic operation.”

Snorts of choked laughter filled the air, lips pinching under Cassandra’s incisive gaze.

“Is something funny?” she demanded of the group, the control in her voice fraying.

“But of Corso, he’s right,” Varric hazarded, relishing the moment the joke washed over her face like a shadow.

The Divine’s Right Hand practically growled. “Pride of the Inquisition, you all are. Making jokes while an alleged cult readies to sacrifice an innocent child. You should be ashamed of yourselves.” 

“Key word there, Seeker. Alleged,” emphasized Varric. “You realize we’re still only going on one person’s account, grasping at hearsay straws. Doesn’t that seem just a little… rash to anyone else?”

“Rash?” she echoed, the fire in her cooling with a sigh. “Perhaps. But if the account proves true, and I had failed to act… I could not live knowing a child’s death was on my head. On all our heads.”

A muggy gust of wind sent leaves fluttering, a gilded kaleidoscope changing and shifting where they stood. For a rare moment, everyone was silent.

“Fair enough. I’m with you,” Varric nodded, shifting his weight. “But the security hefty as it is, if we’re caught we’ll never step foot inside that mansion, much less Skyhold again. So, the question remains.”

“What we need is a diversion,” Sera piped up, a little too eagerly.

“Maker help me, if you suggest a jar of bees—”

A hard, unfamiliar voice cut in from behind them. “What’s all this?”

The group jolted and spun to find a scowling wall of a man, a guard whose approach had been masked by the wind. In the seconds of held-breath confusion, before things veered from bad to worse, Dorian took a quick, amicable step forward.

“Oh good, you’re here! Hold this,” he smiled, shoving the manufactured phallus into one of the guard’s large hands.

The look of pure bewilderment on his jowly face would later go down as one of the trip’s highlights.

“What…” The guard stared down at it, disgust dawning with the realization, when a sickening crunch sent him to the ground like a felled tree.

But not before he let out a throttled cry.

The air turned ripe with whispered curses. Varric gave Bianca a quick once-over, wiping a splatter of red from the end of her stock, as everyone's attention turned to the host of sentries now on alert and in search of the source.

Everyone except for Iron Bull.

At the rattle of what sounded suspiciously like a belt being unclasped, Cassandra turned, strangling a cry of exasperation.

“What are you doing?!” she hissed.

Bull finished kicking off his armor and pants, and now stood at their rear, wearing naught but a smile.

“Supplying the diversion,” he grinned, stooping to pluck the dildo out of the unconscious-maybe-dead guard’s limp hand.

“Don’t! Bull, what are you—?”

But he was already off, streaking out across the courtyard, the bedroom tool brandished aloft and gleaming in the late evening’s glow.

“First one to catch me’s the lucky winner!” his bellowing voice rang out.

It was as if he’d whacked a hornet’s nest, every guard in the vicinity now teeming after him. A successful diversion by almost any measure.

If it hadn’t been for the fact that the entire ordeal, they soon found out, came down to a game of rumor and a rival’s petty shot at revenge.

“So…” Varric asked later, hands shackled as they all sat against the cold stone wall. “Draw straws to see who asks Ruffles to bail us out?”

#prompt fic #dragon age: inquisition #dorian pavus #cassandra pentaghast #varric tethras #iron bull #sera #my brain said 'chaotic and silly' i'm sorry i have no idea what this is 😅 #dragon age #da:i #moonsugar writes #something not atla for a change #writers on tumblr #prompt ask

[shadows-of-almsivi]

Bring Out Your Dead (Moraelyn/Haleth)

Swooping scratches of calligraphy turned jagged on the page. His hands were trembling again. Snapping the journal shut with a sigh, he pressed his cold fingertips to his eyes, his temples. If he pressed hard enough, he could feel his pulse pounding through his skull.

The wind was picking up again. It caught at the worn edges of his robe-hood, flicking his ears and chilling the old gold of his earrings. The hem of his mourning-robe whipped and coiled about his calves; those deer-hide leggings would take some adjustment, true, and certainly weren’t by the least measure beautiful, but already he found himself grateful for their warmth. Eastern fashions had little place in the ice and sleet, were never meant for it. Nor was he, for that matter, yet here they were.

Standing at a crossroads was a good way to gather curses, his aunts had told him once. Lost spirits lingered there, were drawn there. Perhaps that is why Moraelyn found himself drawn there now, pacing in the weeds like a caged thing. He hissed through his teeth, forcing himself to still. If the weather wasn’t threatening yet more snow, if he wasn’t so twisted-up inside with mageburn and moonsugar-ache, he might have afforded himself a long run to settle himself, but that sky… Great dirty-grey drifts were darkening by the moment, glowering from the shrouded peaks looming high over the river. Mocking him, almost, with how easily his freedom could be swept away again, in a flurry of impassive white. He glared back.

“Tralha bahrlom.”

Fine. Fine. Then he’d turn back, for now. Take some more water, maybe a little dried venison, wait out the next storm. Perhaps the stableboy wouldn’t mind the company, until the skies cleared again.

He shivered, deeper than before, wrapping the wool and fur of his travel-coat tighter over his robe. The weather was growing colder by the moment; already, his breath was turning from faint steam to a thick fog, and his eartips were beginning to ache. He reached out to gather up his traveller’s inkwell, set on the low stone wall which had served for his writing-desk--

The inkwell did not budge.

He blinked. He tugged, carefully. Again, the inkwell stubbornly stayed where it was.

“What in the…”

There was a crackling, a snap, and the top came away in his fingers, a useless shard of boneclay and old cork. The bottom half, cradling frozen ink like a lump of coal, held fast to the stone.

His shriek was whisked away with the wind.

#tag #haleth-dovahkiin #If the translation hovertext doesn't work: Tralha Bahrlom = Fuck Off in Dunmeris. #Old Mer Swears At Cloud #THE FIRST THING I'VE WRITTEN IN LIKE A YEAR OR SOMETHING #I'M ALIVE BABY!!!! #Bring Out Your Dead #Windhelm general area #Sometime between 4 and sundown

[talldarkandroguesome]

2nd of Last Seed, Fredas

Another day full of surprises!

In the morning, Min-Daro came and asked me to assist her. Having little to do and being very interested in getting to know her better, I agreed and followed her out to a tent on the opposite edge of the Clan’s encampment.

We spent the early part of the day sorting laundry and cleaning it. I studied the materials of the cloth, as well as the stitching. While I had experience with much of the Clan’s clothing the last time I stayed with them, there were also new items of different materials, perhaps a result of all the Clans coming together.

I was fascinated by the unusual stitching some of the hemlines were done in. I had not seen such intricate work that both hid the hem and created a delicately embroidered edge. So much less wasteful than sewing up hems and them adding a woven trim atop of it.

We were brought lunch by one of the other young women of the Clan. I cannot recall if she was a niece or a cousin... how rude of me. Still, we thanked her and settled in to eat before we continued over some tea.

As before, Min-Daro gave me some of the food off her platter. It felt far more intimate when there were only a few other pairs of eyes in the immediate area, rather than the whole of the clan.

When we had resumed our work, then completed it, Min-Daro presented me with a small wrapped gift. I took it gingerly, overwhelmed with joy as I slid it from it’s packaging.

It was a straight whistle. Clearly handcrafted from wood or reed. It recalled to mind a willow whistle, though I do not know of any source of willow nearby. Perhaps it is made of the spent moonsugar cane. Though I would think the material too precious to be used for such a thing.

I thanked her sincerely and asked for her to show me how it was played. It had been a long time since I played a flute, let alone a whistle. And while I remembered as a child playing a whistle, I did not recall if it had any further notes than the one.

Min-Daro was very patient with me as she taught me how to play and make lovely melodies with.

I know that Sildras has shown an interest in learning and instrument and has shown some interest in the wind instruments. I wonder if this would be a good starter for him. I know that Urtisa hardly let him have a hobby and he is far overdue in learning music. This should be a good start towards a flute in future. And it is something we can share and do together.

For now, however, I shall use it to try and adapt some new music, which I feel overdue in writing.

#ESO #TES #Dunmer #Khajiit #RP #Elder Scrolls Online #The Elder Scrolls

[princesseblade]

MoonSugar!! Do you have any nsfw lotura headcanons that you 'd be willing to share and/or feel comfortable sharing? I'm curious what your take on what Lotor and Allura's private life/ quiznaking be like ;D

In the discord and hell even before we got any canon interactions I was always into the idea of deconstructing Lotor’s past obsession with her into the  kind of adoration you’d see ala Gomez/Morticia. Lotor being very keenly aware of Alluras emotions, being in complete awe of her but also respecting her personhood and abilities. So imagine my surprise when it comes to canon thats  basically what we got from Lotor on a platonic level, and now I have no doubt that would transfer over to any hypothetical coupling. 

Allura letting herself cry in front of him and show that kind of vulnerability is  a very intimate thing to show, thus I feel like sex for them is very slow, methodical and (cheesy I know) healing.  Like when you hear about “making love” thats how I feel about Lotura when it comes to that. Lots of praise and asking for consent even for the smallest of things, (i.e may I kiss you here or there) lots of touching and caressing from Lotor who’s just absolutely touch starved he wants to feel her to know that she’s really there, and Allura just being in a position to be free and vulnerable without the pressure of having to keep up appearances because this is  someone  she has completely let her walls down for and shown her raw soul. 

Course thats not to say things don’t get raunchy I mean we did come up with Altean Estrus Cycles for a reason but I’m not sure I can articulate those thoughts without like writing a fic or something to show you if that makes any sense

#Anonymous #replies #lotura #nsfwish-txt

[aboxfullofocs]

Under the bed

He was sleeping under the bed.

That had been where Galmar Stone-Fist had come to find the Warlock the Stormcloaks called Gold-Blooded. Of course, that was no what Galmar called him, Ulfric had given him his own titles, but to Galmar, he was a Fire-Bear through and though, even if his skin had that golden of his muddled high-elf blood.

The Civil War had been won, but not the unrest. A new had arisen for them, the threat of the Thalmor and the Empire coming for them. But for now, most of the soldiers took a deserved rest, including Fire Bear who had taken a small flat on the Grey Quarter, no less. After the deal with the Butcher, the half-elf half-nord abandoned the house and asked for anything, but that place.

“Heck! I’ll take a dog house for all I care! Shor knows I’m already called a mutt!”

While Ulfric solved things with Elisif about the moot in Solitude, Gamar had returned to Windhelm alongside his most trusted Stormcloaks, among them, of course, the (probably) insane high-elf of nord blood who had joined the Stormcloaks to fight against the empire and the Thalmor. But now the Jarl of Windhelm had returned.

But alas, it seemed like the Thalmor had come for them sooner than he expected and there was no one else Galmar could trust to do this. He needed someone to infiltrate quietly but come out with a bang, and, Fire-Bear was the perfect person for it.

He entered the bedroom in the small cozy loft, the bed appeared to have someone sleeping on it, but once he got close he realized there were pillows under the blankets. At first he thought Lysander had left, but he had found the man, sleeping under the bed. Galmar tilted his head surprised, he had not seen not even fellow Nords sleep like that before, especially when they had a bed at their disposal. 

Yet, there he was, and though he was clearly dressed for sleep, Galmar could tell the mage was armed to the teeth and the boots were close for picking if necessary. His hair was held on a bun with sharp long needles that almost appeared like dragger that could poke a man’s eyes out.

“How doesn’t he poke himself with those needles?!” Galmar mumbled staring and the two large needles.

“Practice!” 

“HOLY FUCKING DAMNIT!” Galmar yelled. With the startled jump Galmar had achieve to hit his back against the table nearby, causing the array of books and vials on top of it fall off. Galmar scurried to stop them but when he realized it was too late, he gave up and sighed in frustration.

Lysander watched with a grin from under the bed and pulled himself up. He leaned against the bed and crossed his arms, waiting for Galmar to state his business.

“How long you been awake, you little shit?” Galmar growled.

“Hardly little, mate! And the moment you entered the appartment,” the white wolfish grin crossed the elf’s lips. “Light sleeper and all.”

“I’ll never get used to that,” Galmar sighed. He had been startled before by the man’s reflexes or the fact that he could lay perfectly motionless as if he was dead only to strike.

“So, what’s up Stonefist, and not the sky. Why you waking up lil ol’ me so early in the morning?” And, in his almost theatrical manner the elf walked over and leaned towards Galmar, he was a couple of inches taller than Galmar, having to lower his head to meet Galmar’s eyes. Damn elf had gold even on his so called green eyes.

“Missed my beautiful golden eyes? Longing for my touch? Wanted to hear my sultry voice?”

“Aaah! Bugger off witch-elf!” Galmar yelled swatting the elf away who jumped back laughing. “Can you be serious for two seconds?”

“Hard to, my ability to concentrate remained in Apocrytha alongside my sanity! Miss it dearly, should write it a letter, ‘Dear Sanity-”

“Fire-Bear!” Galmar called and the elf laughed harder.

Finally done with joking around he sat on the bed and crossed his arms and legs, his expression hardening. “Yes, Stonefist?”

“I have a mission for you.”

“And here I thought you came to ask me out on a date, I love me some Nord accent,” he mocked. 

“Thought you were married!” Galmar frowned.

“Me and Brenna are in an open relationship, she being a saaaad hagraven and me being slightly insane and all!” He placed a hand on his chest.

“Don’t call your wife that!” Galmar rolled his eyes.

“I’m not calling names, she is a hagraven! Have I told you how I got drunk once and went down on a daedric pri-”

“Aye! Aye! You never shut up with that joke!”

The elf laughed and shook his head. “Ma’Iiq never lies! But seriously now, what’s wrong, mate, what type of mission?”

“Rescue mission. One of our patrols was captured by Thalmor enforcers and we need you to get them out,” he explained. “Your the only one of us who’s been to the Thalmor Embassy and the only one to get out unscathed.”

“If you call being shot in the right nad with an ice spike unscathed, sure!” He shrugged. “But I thought the Embassy was abandoned.”

“And it was, but that didn’t stop them from repurposing the building,” Galmar crossed his arms. “We need you to find our men before they kill them, quietly. After they are safe and you have gathered as much intel as possible as to why they’re here-”

“To kill humans and inferior mer,” he shrugged. “No need to be a brain surgeon for that one.”

“A what?!” Galmar lifted a brow. “As I was saying, we need you to get them out, then blow those witch-elves into Oblivion on your way out!”

“I’ll send them straight to the Shivering-Isles, or do you prefer Hircine’s Hunting Grounds, luv?” Lysander winked. “I have missed Elenwen! Think she’ll be there? Think she’ll shoot me in the nad again? The other nad! My left cheek feels jealous. The right one gets shot and no one attends the left one! Such a loss.”

“Lysander!” Galmar actually had to brush his temple to stop himself from throwing something at the elf. “By Ysmir you’re excruciating!”

“I take pride in being extremely abnoxious! But sure, I can do that.”

“Get dressed, Ulfric has more details for you.”

“His royal highness is here? Isn’t he in Solituded getting nice and personal with Elisif? She’s overhyped if you ask me! My sultry Brenna is much more charming, beautiful feathers, you know!” 

“LYSANDER!”

“Okay! Sheesh! Going! No sense of humor! Maybe you should crack a smile mate, but I’d be careful, your face could get stuck!”

Galmar shook his head and walked to the door. He stopped himself and looked over at the elf who was starting to get undressed, grumbling under breath. 

“Fire-bear,” Galmar started. "Why do you sleep under the bed?”

The elf stopped and he heard a scoff. “No one checks under the bed before piercing it with a sword.”

“Wait... What?”

“You heard me right,” Lysander shrugged and removed his cotton clothes. Galmar looked away, though he stole a glance, not at the elf, but at his scars.  Galmar had seen many war wounds and scars, but he would never get used to “those”, sometimes it looked like they never healed. He could swear they got worse by the second.

“Were you stabbed while sleeping once?”

“Twice, actually,” he shrugged. “Dad always said I was daft, I’d hate to prove him wrong, so I didn’t learn the first time around. In my defense, the second time I was high on skooma and moonsugar.”

“Who stabbed you?” Galmar asked with honest curiosity. He wanted to know what manner of cowardly person would stab a sleeping man.

“Both times by imperial legates”, and he looked over at Galmar. “The first time it was actually my brother. It was when me and father left the army to fight for Hammerfell. As for the second time, someone - an arsehole thalmor spy khajiit- had tipped the local Imperials of Legion dissidents! My life was saved by Ja’Vashani, a khajiit mercenary. He spent three months taking care of me, made sure I got clean of the skooma after it. ‘No skooma for you! Ja’Vashani will not waste time taking care of silly elf if skooma gets him killed again!’”

“Your brother tried to kill you.”

“Of course he did, I’d be offended if he didn’t!” He laughed. “He’s a proud, purebred, Summerset Isles highborn, Altmer, I’m the mutt that shows him our highborn, purebred, altmer mother couldn’t resist some nord arse. If we meet during the war I will be personally offended if he doesn’t try to kill me at least twice.”

“Why don’t you just kill him?”

And Lysander walked over to Galmar.

“Would you kill Rolf if he was an Imperial?”

Galmar blinked. “Of course I would! I would do anything for Skyrim!”

Lysander grinned and patted his cheek. “Then Lady Sky has a hell of a warrior at her side.”

Galmar stared at him in silence and Lysander grinned.

“So mate! Food! I ain’t going to blow up thalmor on an empty stomach! You in for some chickens? I don’t think the local grey elves hate my balls yet. But they’re dunmer, they hate everyone by design, so they probably do.”

And he turned to Galmar once more, hands on his hips, something he did when he was about to ramble random knowledge.

“Ever been to Morrowind? They used to have slaves you know! Argonian slaves. They worked on Plantations, but when the Red Mountains went KABOOOOM, the Argonians broke free and killed their masters. That’s why Black Marsh and Morrowind are at war. Dunmer got it coming if you ask me! They take a lot after the Altmer you know. Both have brooms up their arses! I honestely think Lorkan shoved a broom up their arses when he willed dunmer and altmer into existence! Like, he saw a broom and went, that would fit so well up dunmer and altmer behinds! Thankfully my behind is half-nord so no broom up there, not so sure about di-”

“Fire-Bear!” Galmar by this point was failing at holding back laughter at the insanity of all the elf said. And whatever momentary seriousness Lysander showed was gone.

“So, chickens!”

#my writting #skyrim #original altmer character #lysander firebear #foolishness