in which Ruuhi grapples with an unwelcome revelation, bemoans her height, and realises that she cares about Lua a lot more than she should. (the blacked out bit is a very important spoiler btw!! 👁️)
READ CHAPTER ONE OF THE MOON SIEVER HERE
CHECK OUT THE MOON SIEVER’S INTRO POST HERE
general + the moon siever taglist under the cut, please ask to be added or removed!
a fanfic about the cinnamon salt cinnamon characters written for the writeblr fic exchange for @apricotwrites. i chose to write about jay because i felt like i could grasp his character the best, but i dont know a lot about the characters so hopefully there arent too many inaccuracies aaaa. hope this is okay!
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Borneo is white sand shifting underfoot. Fat winged insects sluggishly dragging their heavy bodies from one flower to the next, the audible thrum of their wings. It’s the muggy air, the heat of the glowering sun as it pitches itself at the highest point of its trajectory. It’s the constant need to slap himself on the limbs multiple times to ward away a stray horde of hungry bloodsuckers. But still. Anywhere is better than home.
Jay lounges in the shade of a coconut tree, a hand beneath his head, listening to the sound of waves lapping against the shore. Even with his eyes closed, he can tell the rest are off a little ways down the beach from the loud splashing and occasional squeals of laughter. Sohla’s voice is clear and distinct. She’s shouting at Ruben something along the lines of ‘You have approximately half a brain cell in your head, Ruben, and that’s me being generous.’ Then comes Ruben’s indignant remonstrations and Birdie’s light, high laughter and Jay starts thinking all over again about how chance, how fortuitous, that the universe might allow the paths of these seven people to cross and become what they are now: together. A ragtag team of misfits, a family.
When he first set foot onto this island, it would have been impossible for him to even think about the fact that he might find a group of people who understand him on such a level. Of course, when he first set foot onto this island, he was still angry and alone and blameful, thinking thoughts about his leg or, more accurately, the lack of it. But then he met these guys, and he saw shy and quiet Will, prone to smiling to himself and listening, really listening when someone talks as if to make up for the fact that he cannot see them. Ruben, who, for all the clumsiness of his left foot, manages to banish any impressions of awkwardness with a simple, urbane smile. Or unpredictable Alison, lover of Shakespeare, Shelley, Dickens, names of the dead. She’s always got that strange smile playing on her lips as if she knows something he doesn’t. She keeps her thoughts close to herself, never one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but he has come to know to find glimpses of her in little things, like in the way her eyes are always roving, looking for her brother, never allowing herself to let him out of her sight.
Come to think of it, there’s one voice that he doesn’t hear, floating up to him from where the rest of them are.
Oh my goodness! I can’t quite put into words how much I love this! It’s genuinely amazing! Thank you so so much, Nat - you’ve done my characters so well!
(also any who knows me well will know that “I am the Sand Guardian…” is my favourite vine of all time so that made me so happy!) <333
This is a fanfiction which I wrote for @apollosvotive ‘s “Petrichor” (as part of @humour-and-hyperfocus ‘s Writeblr Fic Exchange). “Petrichor” is such a wonderful wip and if you don’t already follow @apollosvotive , you’re really missing out.
I hope I’ve done your amazing characters justice, Nat (I probably haven’t though). Also, yes, that title is a pun <333
wait why am i crying 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 THIS IS SO GOOD holy shit
phi, I absolutely LOVED how u did this. firstly the formatting is so unique !!!!!!! I LOV THE HERBOLOGY REFERENCES that was such a good idea and u wrote aurora PERFECTLY! omg that blend of melancholy and eccentricity is so well done and true to her character. and the lucien and baz moments were so sweet I LOVED WHAT U DID WITH THIS TYSM !!!!!! 💖💖💛💚💙
a fanfic about the cinnamon salt cinnamon characters written for the writeblr fic exchange for @apricotwrites. i chose to write about jay because i felt like i could grasp his character the best, but i dont know a lot about the characters so hopefully there arent too many inaccuracies aaaa. hope this is okay!
-------------------
Borneo is white sand shifting underfoot. Fat winged insects sluggishly dragging their heavy bodies from one flower to the next, the audible thrum of their wings. It’s the muggy air, the heat of the glowering sun as it pitches itself at the highest point of its trajectory. It’s the constant need to slap himself on the limbs multiple times to ward away a stray horde of hungry bloodsuckers. But still. Anywhere is better than home.
Jay lounges in the shade of a coconut tree, a hand beneath his head, listening to the sound of waves lapping against the shore. Even with his eyes closed, he can tell the rest are off a little ways down the beach from the loud splashing and occasional squeals of laughter. Sohla’s voice is clear and distinct. She’s shouting at Ruben something along the lines of ‘You have approximately half a brain cell in your head, Ruben, and that’s me being generous.’ Then comes Ruben’s indignant remonstrations and Birdie’s light, high laughter and Jay starts thinking all over again about how chance, how fortuitous, that the universe might allow the paths of these seven people to cross and become what they are now: together. A ragtag team of misfits, a family.
When he first set foot onto this island, it would have been impossible for him to even think about the fact that he might find a group of people who understand him on such a level. Of course, when he first set foot onto this island, he was still angry and alone and blameful, thinking thoughts about his leg or, more accurately, the lack of it. But then he met these guys, and he saw shy and quiet Will, prone to smiling to himself and listening, really listening when someone talks as if to make up for the fact that he cannot see them. Ruben, who, for all the clumsiness of his left foot, manages to banish any impressions of awkwardness with a simple, urbane smile. Or unpredictable Alison, lover of Shakespeare, Shelley, Dickens, names of the dead. She’s always got that strange smile playing on her lips as if she knows something he doesn’t. She keeps her thoughts close to herself, never one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but he has come to know to find glimpses of her in little things, like in the way her eyes are always roving, looking for her brother, never allowing herself to let him out of her sight.
Come to think of it, there’s one voice that he doesn’t hear, floating up to him from where the rest of them are.
“Why so antisocial?”
Warmth lands on his face, flooding the darkness of the back of his eyelids with orange. He cracks an eye open. Alison is in front of him. She has shifted a palm frond away so that it no longer blocks the sun from his face.
“Not my thing,” Jay says simply.
“No?” She folds her arms in front of her. “You’re the only one not down there. How about for once in your life, don’t be a sad ass party pooper?”
“You’re here with me,” he counters.
“Only so that you’re not up here withering by yourself,” she shoots right back, without missing a beat. She isn’t looking at him. Her eyes are directed at a spot on the sand. “Oh, look at me. I’m Jay, I’m so cool, too cool to go down to the water and have fun with the others. Sorry to ruin your daydream, Jay, but from down there, you don’t look like you’re in a 1080p montage shot in a Fincher-esque style with emo music playing in the background. From down there, you look like a sad… ant.”
“Ha-ha,” Jay deadpans. “And that’s all an English lit student can come up with? Now put back my leaf. And go find your brother.”
Alison gasps in mock-affront. “Do you bite your thumb at me, sir?”
“I do,” Jay says very seriously. “I do bite my thumb at you.”
“Unbelievable! Incomprehensible!” she cries. “Hell is empty and all the devils are here!”
Finally, she succeeds in wresting a laugh out of him. She’s obsessed with Shakespeare. She’s memorised hundreds of quotes across all his plays and she enjoys quoting it back at him to annoy the shit out of him, which is, evidently, an effective method in getting him to do things. He shakes his head, unable to stop the upward twitch of his lips, and he pointedly ignores the smug and satisfied look in her eyes.
“Come on, Jay.” She jerks her head in the direction of where the others are. “I won. Let’s go.”
He covers his eyes with his arms stubbornly.
She sighs. “What’s going on? Are you homesick?”
“Homesick?” He scoffs from beneath his arms, as if it's an absurd concept. “No.”
“Woah, okay. Must you say it like the Bubonic plague originated in the tiny town of Laurels, Maine?”
“Laurels, Maine,” he repeats slowly. Just saying the name brings back to mind the feeling of inexorable boredom. Days of endless repetition. Just work and sleep and work. Days of friendlessness and hushed whispering and guilt-filled glances at his leg. The problem with a small town is that everyone knows everyone. This means that everyone in the little town knows that it was an accident that took Jay’s leg away from him when he was twelve and everyone knows he’s never been quite the same since. “More like ‘Bumfuck, Middle of Bumfuck Nowhere’. Wouldn’t go back if you paid me to. I am perfectly happy where I am now, thank you very much. It’s up to the rest of them to not go all Lord of the Flies and start killing each other.”
“Oh, considering that out of the seven of us, the only person to not scream at the sight of spiders is Will and it’s because he’s blind, I wouldn’t put my money on it.”
“I don’t scream.”
“I saw your face when there was that spider in the toilet the other day. Face of a pants-pisser.”
“You’re dysfunctional.”
“Aw,” she says. “Thank you.”
“C’mon, Jay.” She tries again. One more attempt that sounds as though its approaching finality. Sometimes Jay wonders how many times he can push others away before they stop coming to him altogether. He’s spent so long in Laurels angry and alone, convinced that no one else in the world could understand him, that finding this group of people, on the island of Borneo, of all places, feels like a rare stroke of luck he isn’t meant to have, the only thing the universe has done right by him. And the thought of losing them, that he might push them away enough times for them to not bother anymore – it makes him scared.
There. He said it. It does. It makes him scared.
“They’re waiting for you. ”
After a moment’s hesitation, Jay moves his arms away. He squints against the light flooding back into his vision, then his vision settles and his eyes come to rest on the black silhouette blocking out the rest of the light that is Alison.
She extends a hand to him. He takes it and allows himself to be pulled up.
“This better be good,” he tells her. She makes to place a hand on his back to support him but he shakes his head and moves away. All these years with a prosthesis and he’s gotten used to it even over tricky terrain. In fact, it feels no different from his old leg until he looks down.
“Come on, cranky old man,” she says. “Let’s go.”
They walk down the beach to where the rest of them are. Perched contentedly under a large beach umbrella, Will and Nolan sit, listening to music. They share Nolan’s headphones. Each one holds the muff to their ears as they quietly listen to whatever’s filtering in. Depending on who has control of the aux, the song is most probably either a romantic ballad or an orchestral score. Nolan turns one of his stimming toys over and over in his other hand. Lying next to him is a half completed drawing of the beach. Down by the surf, Ruben has sand packed on top of his entire body so only his head is visible. Birdie and Sohla stand on either side of him, and the three of them appear to be bickering lightly.
“Make me a mermaid!” Ruben is saying. “Give me a sweet pair of conch-covered tits and a cool tail.”
“No,” Sohla says. “Make him a mole rat. Give him grabby claws and a skinny tail.”
Ruben’s head swivels around frantically to look at Birdie. “Don’t listen to her, Birdie. Do not make me a molerat.”
Birdie quirks an eyebrow at him. A lopsided smile spreads across her lips. “You know I can’t do that.”
“No!” Ruben’s protests are nearly drowned out by the sound of Birdie and Sohla’s laughter as they begin patting the sand surrounding Ruben into a rodent-like form. “I am the sand guardian, guardian of the sand! Poseidon quivers before me!”
“Clam it, Stuart Little,” Sohla says lightly, inciting a string of rapid-fire protestations from Ruben, and Alison turns to look at Jay and Jay – well, Jay can do nothing more but smile.
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so i am playing with the idea of what if hugo comes back for a third time in the story and this time its as a grim reaper or angel of death and he takes kabir away and what if he has a story in paradise with kabir that will come later on . and what happens to the house in the space of that and so forth. this isn’t going to be canon i don’t think but its an interesting concept. idk how much of this i’ll do before turn to what has to happen in kabir being brought to paradise after his suicide.
taglist: @vandorens @nepeinthe @neptunely @sancta-silje @the-ichor-of-ruination @theforgottencoolkid @rcvolutions @apollosvotive @cinnamonboba-writes @goldbonne @inesnenci @mahalii @mothsandmammothfigures @semblanche @aphronysus @callmeweeeh @hazedartisan send an ask to be added or removed.
i'm frank, struggling writer and unstruggling aries boy! currently looking for mutuals or honestly just any active tumblrs, particularly those into writing! maybe throw around some ideas and i throw some back; i'd love to have someone listen to me talk about the little shits in my head i love so dearly.
also, i really have no idea what i'm doing and i'd love a tour around writeblr, as i've seen people call it.
a bit more info on me, what i write, and what i'm into:
i am seventeen and my pronouns are he/him!
i am an aries, and an INFP.
a few genres i'm into: young adult, fantasy, whether it be high or low, sci fi, dystopia, but what i'm an absolute sucker for is urban fantasy
diverse representation (lgbtqia+ and poc and neurodiversity and whatnot)
ENSEMBLE CASTS! i love a good trope like give me that found family of misfits type shit
top 5 shows (just to get an insight into who i am as a person): the good place, avatar, american horror story, young justice, community.
my current WIP is Vince Farrow Versus the Afterlife, a coming-of-age road trip fantasy starring a young witch, an unmagical teenage runaway, a rogue dragged along for the ride, and their adorable hellhound! in a nutshell, it's dungeons and dragons meets doctor who meets sabrina the teenage witch! more info on that later!
interact, like, reblog, shoot me an ask or a message, so we can be mutuals and talk! hopefully this is the first step of a million!
prguitarman
dededos
izzy806
ellievsbear
pixelskylines
