faerie circles

@nevthetrailblazer's writing blog

[nevada-wrytes]

Masterlist

Welcome to the nevaravenverse

@nevthetrailblazer's main writing blog

follow @by-the-birds for art/random excerpts about the birdverse

follow @courtofravensandwritingdesks for an in-universe exploration of the nevaraven world

Follow and turn on notifications for when I post my stories! If you want to be added to the tag list reply to this post

Story Directory

Flexible

tracking: #flexible by nevada

status: on hiatus

A young girl with a special power meets a mysterious group of people. Are they after her power or can they help her achieve her goal?

intro chpt 1 chpt 2 chpt 3 chpt 4 chpt 5 chpt 6 chpt 7 chpt 8 chpt 8.5

Raven

tracking: #raven nv

status: on hiatus

Raven, the coolest immortal birdman, is cursed- and not a cool kind of cursed either. For him, all his relationships end up failing awfully, but it's not his fault! (Okay, maybe it's a little bit his fault). Now he has to take a break from breaking hearts to team up with his half-brother in order to solve a great mystery and rescue some souls, digging deep into things that shouldn't be unearthed in the process.

Part One: The Raven King: chpt 1 chpt 2 chpt 3 chpt 4

Part Two: Curses: chpt 5 chpt 6 chpt 7

There Were Six of Them

tracking: #twsot

status: active, no schedule, informal excerpts

A close friend group navigates high school together and grows in the process.

Lux and Codi Character Info

Saturday in November, Junior Year (Nick)

Sunday in November, Junior Year (Lux)

The Jamie and Luke Show

tracking: #the jamie and luke show

status: rough draft in progress, only bonus content or rambles

Two childhood best friends are in love with each other. Going through a rough summer and Senior year, will they confess their feelings, or will everything fall apart?

All the People that Make Me

tracking: #lionel damien

status: currently consuming my thoughts 24/7

Lionel Damien is defined by the people he meets. Explore the relationships of an eccentric billionaire advocating for change as he experiences love, loss, and the quest for identity.

Extras

By the Bird's (tracking: #by the birds): prologue

October Writing Prompt - Shadows

Fake promo poster for my wip

A Daring Heist: part one part two

[nevada-wrytes]

Lionel Damien Week Day 4

I have an obsession with medieval history so OF COURSE I had to make a lionelverse medieval au (taking heavy inspiration from slavic folklore)

The Demidovs are a powerful, old noble family. Cunning rather than strong. Small in number, but able to hold vast stretches of land. They were as old as the founding of the kingdom, their ancestors fighting alongside Dmitri's. They were supposed to be the most loyal, the most honorable, and yet, Dmitri was now riding out to their fiefdom, prepared for war.

Their fiefdom was rich in resources, much more so than the royal lands. Situated by the mountains, they profited from a deep, lush forest and much grain from the fertile valley below it. They had traditionally been as wealthy as kings, in fact there was recorded dispute over the two families for who would get to rule, but their wealth exploded when a new resource was discovered in their mountains: salt.

As precious as gold, salt was the lifeblood of their territory. Trading salt, stone, and lumber for all sorts of precious materials, gold, silver, and gems, they had amassed a wealth that rivaled the royal treasury. And because of that, the king had grown suspicious.

To cut tensions, the two houses had agreed upon a very favorable marriage: the Demidov's would marry their only heiress to the Vasynov's, the royal family's, heir, Dmitri. An engagement beginning when the two were only children, purely for the Vasynov's to acquire the Demidov's vast wealth and for the Demidov's to remain in good standing within the kingdom. A purely political, forced marriage.

Dmitri had forgotten that fact long ago.

The problem is, the heiress, Lada Demidova, had blossomed into the most radiant of roses; the talk of the capitol. She was prim and proper, graceful, intelligent, and beautiful. Everyone praised her for her elegance, but Dmitri saw what they didn't: how she failed at any musical aspirations, how she laughed as if her whole body was erupting, how her eyes lit up when he brought her some new knowledge, a book, a treatise, a manuscript. She put up a front, hiding the loud, brilliant parts of herself. Dmitri found her fascinating. He wanted to know everything about her. He wanted her.

The saints, it seemed, deemed they should be apart. The Demidov's, without a male heir, were doomed to fall soon enough, especially with a marriage to the royal line. Their leadership would be transferred to the weaker line, a cousin, and the current head would not be able to do anything with his daughter held hostage in the capitol, at least, that's what they thought. Perhaps as a final, desperate act, they had begun preparing for war in their fiefdom, and launched an attack on royal lands. The royal demesne was less profitable; in the center of the country, surrounded by farmland, sure, but with young forests, they relied on other fiefdoms to supply the lumber the capitol needed to continuously expand. The only benefit of their location was a river that ran through the capitol, connecting it to trading ports in the east.

From a logicians view, the war was a close one. The Vasynov's had more troops, and the backing of the rest of the kingdom's fiefs, but the Demidov's had more money to buy better, well-armed troops. The capitol with its thick walls was easy to defend, but also impossible to sustain if held under siege. Dmitri's father had sent him out to battle as soon as the horns sounded, and he'd been locked in combat ever since. It was by some miracle that they were winning, managing to rally troops behind him and push back the Demidov faction to their own lands.

And now, they were approaching the illustrious castle, one Dmitri had just visited to see his fiance. This time, though, he had brought an army.

The battle was fierce, and lasted all day, but the soldiers on the opposing side, those that hadn't deserted yet, were in obvious disarray. Dmitri suspected foul play, but he ordered his troops to be merciful. They detained any who remained loyal to the line, but left the serfs to continue tending to their lands. Anyone who tried to run was killed, those with honor left to surrender would be taken back to the capitol and resworn under the king. They hadn't found the head and his wife, but they all assumed they were holed up in the castle, and even if they were on the run, Dmitri didn't worry; he would send out searches for them soon. Right now, he had to locate one more person.

Before the tide of battle, Lada had been whisked back to her own lands, under pretense of wedding preparations. Dmitri had not seen her for months, and he didn't know how much of a hand she had in her parents' schemes. In his heart he hoped she had been oblivious, but he knew that even if she was, she would still not be treated kindly if she would be found alive. Despite this, he needed to find her. He needed to make sure she was still alive. He needed to see her again.

The castle was burning. Dmitri frowned as the fortress came into view. He had definitely not sent an order for this. He hurried his horse over the battlefield full of broken bodies and the bloodied dead, shouted for his men to put out the fire before it was too late—

A figure stood at the top of the tower, against the backdrop of the setting sun, a bleeding sky. The red sky seemed to take over the castle, as if it was being eaten alive by the sun. Dmitri knew who's room that was, but he prayed, he prayed to every saint he could remember that he was wrong, that the headstrong and lovable girl he knew would never try to take her own life—

The figure was too close to the balcony, arms raised as if in celebration, one last graceful act, or perhaps bracing herself for the end—

Dmitri's heart pounded as he raced his horse to get there first. Time seemed to slow, flames continued licking away at the stone, and the lone figure dropped from the tower like a stone, sinking into the red glow, the same red as a garden of roses in the summertime, like a swimmer into the sea.

He would remember this moment for the rest of his life, never able to see a sunset the same ever again.

Lada understood that her parents had left her for dead. Beginning a ridiculous war they would never have won, so afraid and paranoid of the loss of their wealth, all of it done without a care for how it affected her life. Good parents were supposed to do what was best for their children, and good children were supposed to obey. Lada was a good child, but her parents had never reciprocated that love.

They had shut her in her tower for her whole life, then arranged a marriage for her with the eldest prince in a court where she was nothing but a hostage, and only once she had gotten used to that life, they ripped her away from her newfound happiness to be a prisoner at home once more.

She had been stuck in the castle for many months, told to wait for the army once it was clear their side was losing, badly. With no son to command the front lines, the loyalty of their soldiers had crumbled. Lada, locked away in the castle, was supposed to the bait as the rest of the family ran away. She was to set the castle on fire as soon as she saw the army so no matter what the king would never get his hands on their wealth, which included herself.

Lada was not a stranger to death. She had not felt alive ever since she grew into her body; forced to hide parts of herself and parade around for the enjoyment of others. There was no joy to living a false life, longing for something better, a life where her parents loved her, where she couldn't be someone to toss around, a son rather than a daughter.

As she sat and awaited her fate, she prayed to all the saints to protect her, to guide her to the afterlife, where maybe she would get a chance to be free. If she died now, she could probably life a few decades alone and happy before her parents joined her.

No, Lada would not accept her death. There was more to living, there had to be.

On the eve before battle, she could not take it anymore. Her parents had fled in a covered wagon, telling her to be good, to be obedient, to be a pawn. But there had to be a way out.

Running was not an option, even if it was the only way to escape death. She would face more danger alone on the road than burning alive in her home. Still, she had to try something.

Lada remembered stories of maidens receiving help from an old crone in the woods. If they were pure of heart, kind, and brave, their wishes would come true. Lada figured she was close enough to an ideal girl— hopefully the witch was lenient on the whole, pure of heart, thing.

The night before the attack, she snuck out of the castle, not that there were many servants left, anyways. Those with sense had run, all trusting her to remain alone, the obedient prisoner. She ran deep into the dark woods and cried out,

"Baba Yaga! Baba Yaga! Please hear my call!" She pulled out the bread they had left for her in the kitchen, as well as a jar of honey and some fresh milk she had been given that morning out of pity. She set out her offerings on a silk handkerchief and knelt. And waited.

She felt awfully foolish. This was a good way to attract a wild animal, not an ancient witch. If she remained out here, she would be sooner mauled by a bear than summon a witch-

"What ails you, child?"

Lada jumped. In the darkness, a voice calls out to her.

"Who's.. there?" she asks, cautiously

"Did you not just call for me?"

Lada jumped again. Her heart was pounding.

"Babcia.." she knelt down again and pushed the food closer. "Please accept my humble offering.."

A wrinkly, skeletal hand with dark, talon-like fingernails stretched out from the darkness and takes her offering. The sound of feasting followed.

Lada wasn't sure if she was supposed to interrupt, so she waited.

"Well, spit it out, child. What can this Babcia help you with?"

Lada cautiously glanced up. "Well- I heard you can grant wishes."

"I may have done that before."

"And that you help young maidens who are in perilous situations."

"Seems young women are always finding their way to my hut." A hint of fondness colored her voice.

"Well-" Lada's voice broke. A sob hitched in her throat— as much as she steeled herself for this, she couldn't control her emotions when forced to explain her own dilemma.

"Baba Yaga, I have nothing else to give you, but please- hic- I don't want to dieee." Her body shook with sobs that seemed to echo through the forest.

The witch feinted no warmth, waiting in silence for Lada to finish.

She spoke coldly, "You are not the first child to run to me in fear of her own life, and if you want my help, I warn you that it does not come for free."

Lada sniffed. "I understand." She pulled herself together, wiping away her tears, "I will do anything, Baba Yaga, to leave here, anything, to truly be.. me."

Somehow, she felt the darkness smile— a chill ran up her spine. "A wonderful proposition, child. So you wish to be someone else entirely? Free of your past life?"

Lada grew serious, "Lada is already dead. Her fate is sealed, but—"

"Yes, yes." It sounded like the witch rummaged around for something. A skeletal hand held out a peculiar bottle to her. "Go back to your prison, do as you have been instructed, and when the flames reach your tower, drink this potion and then take a leap of faith.. I cannot promise you safety or a long life, but the next time you wake, you will find yourself as you have always envisioned."

"And the catch?" Lada cradled the bottle as if it were a precious ornament, much more precious than any of the gold or jewels she owned.

Baba Yaga cackled. "Smart child.. smart.. well.. let's see here.." Fingers drummed on wood. "No matter what you do, what you say, your beloved will never recognize you. You will run from partner to partner, relishing the novelty of love, but never finding solace, never settling down. Because you chose to escape home, you will never place down roots ever again. That is the price this magic will cost. Will you still do it?"

Lada gulped. Death, or a life on the run? Still, the chance to be someone she's always dreamed of…

"Yes."

"Good." The click of a bottle being set down. "Get going now, child, before the dawn rises."

"Yes, Babcia! Thank you!"

[nevada-wrytes]

Lionel Damien Week Day 3

This was supposed to be part of Day 1 but I decided it was too long.. more plot summary but given in the form of character analysis!

I once read some advice that the best thing a writer can do is identify what a character wants and then take that away from them so that's what I did.

What does Lionel want?

He wants to prove himself; he wants to do better. He wants to scrub away this guilt that eats his soul; he has money to spend and spend it he will. It feels dirty to keep it- blood money. He's always been an idealist; he wants to change the system. He believes if someone has enough money power they can do anything. He will be the one to change the system, to raise up the youth, because it's his duty. He was born with riches beyond his imagination, and he is going to help people. Even if they don't want help, even if they are so stubborn Kai. He wants to make a difference.

But deep down all he wants is to be seen. He wants someone he can call his own. He wants to be loved, the love he read in stories. He wants someone easy to love, who he's allowed to love. He wants a happy ending.

What the fuck does Edward want?

Maybe he knows Lionel is ahead of the game, so maybe he wants secrets to get the better over others as well. He doesn't attack the system to take it down, he's fine with how things run, he just wants in, and he'll do anything to get it. Fragile masculinity; the need to prove himself. Lionel will do it for him. Lionel helps him prove to himself that he's a man. He's not like him. He's normal. Lionel is useful, because he is interesting, but also because he highlights how normal Edward is. He wants to keep him by his side so people will go well thank god you're not like THOSE ones.

And in private, he can enjoy his company, enjoy someone who sees him not as an extension of his father, but his own person. Enjoy a sardonic smile and secrets. Secrets, it all comes down to those. Edward was approached by someone, someone powerful, to take Lionel down from the inside. Make the overly confident man doubt his every move. Edward knows Lionel is already in a fragile state after [REDACTED]. They're close now, and Lionel trusts too easily. If Edward can do it, he'll get everything he's ever wanted, no obstacles in the way.

What does Sofya want?

She wants normalcy; she wants to speak to no one ever and to eat scones and drink coffee everyday in the park and look outside her window on a rainy day while she's curled up inside reading a good book. She wants to be allowed to live, to step outside and go to the store without hiding herself. This is how she wants to experience life; hiding her away would be a death to self, like she saw with her mother. She doesn't even care about people- well maybe she cares about Lionel enough to get him through his idealistic plan. She wants everything to be okay. She wants something stable, and if that means helping him she'll make sure he stays alive, I guess.

What does Corin want?

She wants to be acknowledged by her father. She wants to prove herself as good as any man. She wants people who understand her, who don't belittle her, a teacher that will support her dreams and a dad who will finally let her become a Junior Councilmanwoman. She wants to fit in. She wants that more than anything else. Why does she have to be like this? Why can't she be like the other girls who get married and have kids and live a happy home life? It makes her skin itch. She wants the opportunity to live life how she wants.

What does Kai want?

That's the question of the novel.

Stability, enough money to live comfortably, get a new, nicer apartment in a decent part of the city. Scrub his past clean. Get his sister to a nice school, buy her nice shoes and nice clothes and new art supplies and fancy toys. Eat a meal three times a day plus snacks. Splurge on the good tea without having to cut something else out. Buy new shoes when the last ones get holes in them instead of plugging them with cardboard and hoping no one sees. Stop having to do things he'd rather not do for cash. A family. A father. Someone else to take this burden.

Way back when he had dreams.. he wanted to become an actor; live in the spotlight, wear costumes, and act to his hearts content; read lines, stage plays, invite his family to front row seats, perform in the grandest theater on the island.

But those are dreams for a stable man, a man who doesn't have to worry how, at twenty-two, he's going to pay for dinner, not even for himself. Would he even let someone take that burden for him? Or does he like being a martyr because it means there's a reason to suffer, because otherwise everything he's ever done would be pointless; he ruined himself for nothing. It's hard to get out of these shame spirals; he's digging down but the only thing he knows is to keep digging. He's walking into hell but he's too far in to turn back.

Another dream of a lofty man? Love. No, someone easy, someone comfortable. Someone who can solve his problems, someone with good ambitions, someone who is kind and won't hold it over his head. He isn't looking for love, he is looking for someone he can trust.

[nevada-wrytes]

Lionel Damien Week Day 1

I'm sure you're asking.. what is the Lionelverse even about? Well here I have outlined just that in a word-vomit style.. enjoy!

We begin in a city, a city that never sleeps, a city where laws are mere guidelines and the imagination can run wild. This is a city of freedom, of equality, of new beginnings, and of old sins. Our city is run by the old era even if it brags itself to be under new skin.

Mages have begun disappearing. That's the problem. A drastic decline in mages is bad. Lots of things rely on mages: new advancements, medicine, transportation- war. People have been studying their decline for decades, noticing it patter down naturally.

(It's because society has no stress; a new technological age with no need for magic is a good thing, but people don't see that. To be a mage is to believe in magic. Mages are people who, at some point in their lives, believed in magic so hard it came true. Is it bad we've moved past the need for supernatural aid?).

Now what? Mages are declining fast; people agree this is bad for all of society, yet being a mage is the easiest way to be pushed down to the bottom of society. People don't appreciate convenience until it's gone. Some are trying to get them back, now. Scientists are studying what makes a mage. (The false assumption is that magic is caused by some sort of stress, but actually the root of the power is... hope. Isn't that nice?)

Here in the city, mages are a business, one that the elite has sunk its teeth into. Supply and demand. The rarer an object is, the more expensive it is, and the more people that want to control it. This is the conspiracy unearthed by Lionel. He doesn't see the mage disappearances first, (he's a businessman, part of the elite, how would he ever notice something far below his class?) but he notices these businessmen getting money and gathering in flocks as if they're sharing a secret.

It's Kai who connects this to the mages. His neighbors and coworkers are disappearing. Talk in the town, in the brothels, is that they're gone (underground...). Where are they being sent to? Labs- Scientists are studying them. Why? Businessmen are trying to control the supply of mages; indenturing current mages works, but eventually that stock runs out. They want to be above the means of production: they want to create life. Greedy bastards.

It started with one man, the Consul of Slavena, who theorized that mages can be created. Businessmen took that as truth and ran with it. They hired scientists engineers to create magic for only them.

People are disappearing now, normal people on the streets.

First, they studied mages- how they tick, what makes them different from others- all to try and extract their magic. After the first few started dying, they had to move on to other means. So, they changed to experimenting on normal people.

Kai noticed. His sister's friends went missing. He started fearing for his sister's life. A man his mother knew wanted to take her to his estate in the countryside to a new school. Kai did not trust old wealthy men.

They started with children- a lot of mages develop their powers when they are young- but they weren't excluding anyone else, children were just easier to catch.

They put stressors on these kids to see if they could make some powers develop. It sometimes worked. They are trying to perfect the means to get a 100% success rate.

Lionel has entered the underground. These people want something, he knows it. Kai and Lionel work together to uncover what is going on in these "labs"- they're using children as guinea pigs! Poor, marginalized children. Who cares about them. An epidemic is spreading through the slums, that's what's taking out your children, not us.

How do Lionel and Kai uncover this? Lionel gives himself a reputation of dirt to join them, their parties, and their circles, looking for information. He can only can get so far, everyone has their guards up. So he gets Kai to do it for him.

People relax next to those they find invisible. Kai gets information. Lionel and Kai leak this information to gangs; it puts a target on their backs and starts an investigation retaliation.

Kai becomes paranoid the police are coming after him, that the kidnappers are going to get his sister next. So busy with his espionage, he forgets his bills. The cost of his mother's medicine is rising, it always is. He didn't have time to work eight jobs this week. He would never ask Lionel for help, even if the man pays him more than enough already. Kai won't touch that money. He gives it to Evi instead. He wonders what will happen if he skips one dose.. surely it'll be fine. His mother kills herself, strangled in the sheets, thinking they were coming after her.

Kai cannot let anyone know. He blames himself. People will think it was a homicide, the police will come after him. He is paranoid. He hides this. Steals from the funeral parlor they live above, the chemicals they put into dead bodies. He props his mother's corpse in her bedroom, continuing to talk to her as if she was alive she IS alive only for his friends to eventually find out.

And Kai finally realizes the world is ending.

What is this story about?

Greed: the greed of men who want to control people, to stay on top of the market, to the point where children get hurt; the greed of Lionel to keep a pretty man by his side by whatever means necessary, even if it harms him and leads to his doom; the greed of Kai to have nice things, a normal life.

The decline of self: it starts small; the loss of dignity, stress, paranoia, fear; the dangers of being in a surveillance state.

Love; He loved him. His love undid him. Kai loved his family like a lost dog, but he was selfish, sure that he had to do everything all of the time, the fear of taking hand outs, of owing debts, of asking for help.

A tragedy: it was entirely preventable.

[nevada-wrytes]

The Day that Changed Everything

A scene from the birdverse, partially inspired by the song Hold Them Down from Epic the Musical. I like to joke that Kor suffered more than Jesus but this scene kind of confirms that.

CW: mentions of/implied rape, gore, violence, suicidal thoughts

"What are we going to do, Captain? With that boy the Avians are decimating our troops. How long can we keep sending them to the slaughter?"

Agualias ran an armored hand over the coral table, smooth after many years of touch. His fingers glided over the land masses carved into the coral, bumps meant to resemble hills and divet where lakes should be. He was aware that he held the attention of the room as he took his time, meandering through each curve and carved line. They were nervous.

Finally, he snapped out of it. "Ignore the Bringer of Death." He swept away some centuries old dust. "He's just a tool, controlled by the Nest. We don't go for him— yet," He slowly began to move his fingers again, down an estuary carved into the rock, letting the sensation beneath his fingertips help toss his thoughts around.

An idea struck.

"The younger Prince.." he mumbled.

"What?"

Agualias felt a smile crack his face, slow, predatory, as he talked. "He's a liability. Trained with a bow, maybe, but that means he's only a ranged fighter. If we corner him, he'll be.. helpless."

He could feel as his idea sunk into the room. People began to mutter.

"The younger Prince?"

"The dainty one. With pearly hair."

"The sick one?"

"Hardly so, he took out Nephmet's eye last campaign!"

Agualias raised a hand and the room fell silent. "I hear your concerns, we can't underestimate him— that's a fact. But.. since the Nest's been keeping him so close means he is valuable. I've.. even heard rumor he may be another Child."

"Two? In the Nest?" choked out his second in command.

"Yes, it's not ideal but.. I don't even think the Prince is aware of it himself. If his powers haven't awakened yet.. then now is the time to strike."

"But how? He's always guarded or at the Nest."

Agualias tapped his temple. "Haven't you noticed who's missing? The Scouts just informed us that the Falcon's been gone for days, and the Prince is nowhere to be found. If they're both not at the Nest, then they can't be guarded. And.. I've heard word from the Sprites that the Prince was spotted.. in the Forest."

Excited chatter broke out again. This is what Agualias fed on, the suspense, the build up, the anticipation of a plan, a plan so daring none of his other siblings could come up with it.

He dropped a heavily armored finger on a certain spot on the map. "He's here," he said, "The Bottomless Abyss."

The warriors around him leaned in to see, elbowing each other to get a better view. Agualias continued.

"This will be where we corner him. The rivers feed into a spring close by," he gestured around so they could see. "There, we call in that favor from the Sprites and make the rest of the trek on our terrain. I'll lead the charge. In the meantime," he pointed elsewhere, "we gather some of our forced on the beaches, make his caretaker distracted, then my unit will close in."

His voice was rising over the room like the tide, receding before a big swell. "He won't see it coming, helpless as he is, and easy to overpower. We grab him. Hold him down. Then take our revenge." He cackled, "Imagine— just imagine how that mighty King would react if we send him his brother all ruined and broken. Would he cry comrades? Feel shame? Hah!"

He could see their grinning faces all around him, eyes glazed over by the sweet promise of revenge, of easy revenge. They hung onto his every word as he continued, growing darker and darker as deep water.

"We'll test out if he really is a Child— see if he's afraid of death, and if not, we'll give him another reason to cry. You will hold him down and I will break his bones! Every finger that dared to draw a bow to harm us. I'll take his eye! One for Nephmet's. We'll break his pride, then taint his honor. And! And! We'll cut off his wings."

The room broke like a crashing wave, shouts from every direction.

"Break every one of his bones, Captain!"

"Or better, slit his throat!"

One smacked his lips, "I heard his skin is so fresh it'll leave bruises with just a breath."

"I heard he's as beautiful as the Peacekeeper."

"I'd like to make that pretty little mouth scream."

"No way, I want him first!"

Agualias chuckled. "Don't worry friends," he spread his arms wide, "I'll make sure everyone has a turn."

vvv

Nereus cornered him in the hallway after the meeting. His hair floated around him in an agitated manner, almost like tentacles worried you're getting too close. "Are you sure we should do this?"

Agualias raised a brow. "When did you start doubting me, brother?"

Milky eyes regarded him. "You know I can't see the Currents surrounding the Prince. Is this wise? What if it's a trap."

He ignored him. "All the better to strike! If the Nest is going to such lengths to keep the Prince away from us, then he must be special. I'd like to see so for myself."

Nereus shot him a look. "Don't let your own motives get in the way, brother. The Prince is not his brother, old rivalries will not be won by substituting one for the other. And for all we know, the King could care less about his bastard brother and is just using him as bait."

Agualias shot back at him, age-old anger filtering in, "Don't you think I know that?" He took a breath. "I don't need to see his High and Mighty Majesty. Just imagining his reaction will be enough." A sinister smile broke his lips. "But if only I could see his face when they find the Prince afterwards..."

Nereus sighed. "Be careful, Captain. I'll pray for your success."

Agualias clasped his arm. "Wonderful, Great Sea-er. We'll visit the Temple of Depths before our departure."

He watched his sibling walk away, waited until he was out of earshot, then snapped around with a sharp twist.

"Come out, you [damned] Mimic!" He beat the wall with an enraged fist until his fingers grasped around a camouflaged throat. He squeezed.

"Agualias!" gasped the boy whose throat he held. Agualias let him go once the boy's face turned purple, wiping his hand on his clothes and watching the boy sink to the ground gasping for breath.

"Nobody likes an eavesdropper, boy!" He spat. "How much did you overhear?"

The boy straightened. "Take me with you, please!"

"Like [hell] I will. Now get lost. Some of us have real things to do." He started to walk away, satisfied.

"But- brother-"

Now h turned, livid, "Don't. Call me that." He strode back over to the boy, until he was hovering over him, like the wave, like the storm, like the monster about to snap. He prodded a finger into his chest. "You are a nobody. You don't deserve to have the privilege of calling me kin. Remember that, you hear? A nobody."

Face as white as sea foam, the boy ran away.

vvv

As promised by the Sprites, the forest ground was flooded, marshy under their feet, which allowed them to trek without damage.

"This way," commanded Agualias in no more than a whisper. They couldn't afford to make any sounds that would alert the Falcon before she was sufficiently distracted.

As they neared the deep pool, the air got noticeably cooler, almost too cold for his warm blood. Here, the Abyss's presence was felt even above ground. Even so, his skin prickled in anticipation more than chill.

The Forest was silent all around them. Every creature was either long gone or turning their gaze away. The Rocks didn't even make a sound, not even a rumble in warning. The Earth had long since decided to stay neutral in this war, even if it made them complacent in acts like this.

Agualias and his troop waited for a signal from the Sprites that the Falcon was subdued. Quietly, a lot of waiting.

Then, there is was. A whirlpool at their feet— the time was finally upon them!

Warriors burst from the brush like a flash flood. They ran until they found the Prince by the edge of the pool, caught off guard. He didn't even have time to reach for his weapon before they grabbed him. Later, only later, would Agualias even register that he didn't even have a weapon.

Like a king, Agualias emerged from the shadows. "Hold him down," he commanded, watching the Prince struggle against the numerous hands that held him back. He smiled when he made eye contact with the boy. Reddish eyes of a sickly hue, but with dazzling white hair and wings to match. He was as stunning as the stories claimed. Something flared in Agualias's gut.

Agualias took his time meandering over, drinking in the sight of the boy on his knees, held to the ground by the gaping maw of the Abyss like a sacrifice. He finally lowered himself to meet his gaze.

"Hello Princling." He smiled, all teeth— the Prince cringed away from his salty breath— and ran a finger down his smooth face. "Where's your little nanny~?"

The Prince was out of breath from struggling, yet he still managed to spit out, "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing," he paused, "we don't need her."

Agualias reached for the blade offered by his second in command. It was shiny and thin and sharp. Specially forged— the only way to hurt Children of Death. His smile widened as he watched the Prince's eyes go wide, recognizing its caliber. He tried squirming a way but Agaulias grabbed a fistful of his hair. He put the cold blade on the Prince's pale, unblemished neck. It was so sharp it instantly drew a line of vivid red.

"We're only here for you, little Prince."

The Prince huffed out a laugh, speaking carefully around the knife. "You're running a losing game, then. I know nothing of Their plans or strategies. The King could care less if I was captured."

Agualias huffed. "We knew you'd say that— Hold his legs—" he leaned in close to the Avian's long ears, reveled in the way his breath made the boy shiver. "That's why we'll give you back, of course," he slid the blade teasingly across his throat, "..not without some.. reparations"

"No!" The boy choked out, fighting to get free again. His struggle only intensified the stream of blood from his cuts, pooling onto the rock beneath him.

"Hold his wrists too." Agualias suddenly stabbed the blade down into the ground next to the Prince's face, feeling giddy when the Prince flinched and screamed from a blow that never came. The knife sliced clean through rock, instead, up to the hilt. Agualias smiled.

The others took that as a sign to close in.

"His eye first!"

"No, let me at his sweet little neck, before that!"

"Hey, grab his wings— aren't they soft?"

Agualias didn't care how his warriors handled the Prince, where they grabbed him or how hard. He egged it on after seeing the way the Prince flinched away from their touch as if it stung. Every cry when his wings were grabbed or his hair was pulled made him feel funny inside, like he'd finally won. He wanted to gloat, but he knew if he turned around the one he wanted to see wouldn't be there. Nereus was right, but that fact didn't make him feel any less giddy, only angry.

"Little Prince." He tapped the boy's temple with his knife to get his attention. "Look at me— there, now listen and remember this." He leaned in close so his lips hovered just above the boy's ears, smiled when him shivered again, then continued.

"First, the eye." He gestured with his knife lazily, not caring if it nicked skin. "For my sister." Then he trailed up to where the boy's wrists were being held down. "Then the fingers. I'll break every. Single. One." A flash of horror appeared on the Prince's face. "No more shooting for you." Then he moved to his back, put the knife against one of the appendages that he knew was sensitive. He cut, deep. "Then, the wings."

"No!" The boy flailed out, a renowned burst of strength.

"Hold him down!" Agualias loosened a punch aimed at the boy's jaw. The sickening crunch of bone got everyone's attention. It sounded like a luxury, the snap of an enemy's neck, the pop of a sea fruit in one's mouth, the moan of a lover during her first time. Agualias's pupils widened in ecstasy.

"Want to try screaming again? I'd love to hear it." He liked the way the boy shuddered when his breath passed anywhere near his ears.

"What was that? You're going to be quiet now, huh? Fine."

Another punch. A rib cracked. The Prince cried out, blood coughing up from his mouth. Agualias waited a second. He didn't die, yet. It was a good sign.

Once confirmed they could be as brutal as they wanted, the warriors around him laughed. One pinched his exposed skin just to see the red mark left behind. Another sunk his teeth greedily into the boy's neck. Agualias spread the boy's legs apart and sat with one knee between his thighs. He brought out the knife with a sickening flash and feigned going for the boy's eye, laughing as he screamed before the knife went wide and grazed his cheek instead. He was going to drag this out for a while.

The boy seemed to realize this as well.

"Please," he begged, his voice broken. "Please."

Agualias only laughed harder. He pulled the boy's head up closer by his hair.

"Try begging louder," he murmured, "Maybe they'll even hear you at the Nest!'

vvv

A bloodied, broken body shivered, on the cold stone. Agualias wiped his hands, satisfied. The Prince was barely recognizable, now, pale skin bare and covered in blood or bruises or open wounds he hoped would scar. Blood gurgled in his mouth in intervals, but his stubborn chest continued to rise and fall with shaky breaths. His once beautiful face was now marred by the gaping whole in his head where his eye had been. Agualias would cherish the way he screamed when he'd carved it out of his head for the rest of his life.

Fit to go for a second round, Agualias neared the boy, before a messenger came rushing in.

"Captain! They're losing hold on the Falcon! It won't be long before she escapes."

"Fuck." Agualias cursed. He regarded the broken boy. "Let's speed this up, yeah?"

His warriors held the boy down, again. They bared his wings to his knife as if they were on the executioner's block. The boy whimpered, his voice long gone. He had no energy left to struggle, but even a sick animal would attack when cornered. He gathered his broken little body and lunged for the knife before Agualias could grab it, but it slipped through the grip of his broken little fingers. Either way, he hadn't received any combat training to know how to use the knife if he'd succeeded.

Agualias squashed his already broken hands under his heel. "Down, boy." He smiled. "You know we love it when you protest."

There was no time to make this painful. His heart began to beat as he imagined that wraith finding them. He was not scared, though, obviously, just.. worried, for his men, not himself.

"Fuck this, fuck everything!" He roared. Of course she had to escape and ruin his plan. He raised his arms over his head and swung down viciously at the thick bone between the boy's back and wings. It didn't go in cleanly. Enraged, Agualias swung again. He hacked at the boy's back, before giving up. It seems something had finally pitied the boy.

He wouldn't let this go, though. "If I can't finish this, then at least I can make sure you never fly again!"

He stabbed his knife through the Prince's wings, and it cut through like silk. Pure white feathers fell to the ground, now splattered with red. The boy screamed and screamed with each slash, a guttural, primal screech that rattled the very ground.

Agualias only saw red and loved it.

"Captain! I think I hear something, quickly!"

That spurred him from his rage. He stood up and looked down at the bloody mess he had created. The boy wasn't protesting anymore.

"Let's get out of here," he said darkly.

"What do we do with the Prince?"

Agualias turned around, "Throw him into the Abyss."

"No!" The boy screamed, somehow finding his voice after all of this.

Agualias cackled. "Remember this, Princling. You are nobody anymore."

v

v

v

Cold.

Dark.

No thoughts, only sensations.

Cold, the worst one.

His head throbbed.

Slowly consciousness flowed back to him, only to be washed away as abruptly as it came.

There was nothing around him but the cold.

He knew there were sensations once, pain, both in his heart and his body, but they were now replaced by a sort of weightlessness as his lungs filled with water. Memories flashed through his mind only to flow out like water through a sieve.

Kor knew he couldn't die. He would never drown. He would just sink like this forever, in the Bottomless Abyss. He didn't even know how to swim.

vvv

There were voices calling for him, but they seemed so far away. He was so, so cold.

Mama, where are you? He thought. Or at least he tried to, but his thoughts were so scattered.

The pounding in his head had stopped. He felt a strangeness, the wrongness of his body trying to put itself back together, but lacking the air to do so. It felt like forcing a plant to grow in the dark.

He wondered if this pit truly did go all the way to the Abyss.

If he couldn't die, then at least the Nothing could tear his body apart so he could finally rest.

Kor realized he didn't want to go back up.

It hurt up there.

But it was warm up there, and it was so, so cold down here.

Eventually, though, he would stop feeling the cold.

v

v

v

[Okay some other stuff happens, that I don't feel like writing right now. Falcon flew back to the Nest to tell them about Kor's disappearance, very very distraught for losing him. Everyone's busy trying to find him while also not starting panic. They find a wooden practice sword by the beach, similar to the one Aquilian had used to best Agualias in a show of strength when they were kids. Thus, Aquila suspects Agualias has captured Kor.]

"Your Majesty." A messenger approached with a quick bow, breathless.

"What news?" Aquilian asked, trying to not sound eager.

"None about your brother, my liege, but— the Forest has sent scouts. They are saying something approaches."

"What?"

"A thing appears to be making it's way to the Nest. The Scouts tell us it has carved a path in the Earth, right from the Well of the Abyss. They say-" the messenger gulped, "they say it's a creature of shadows and darkness, that destroys everything in it's path, decaying life matter and-"

"Enough." Aquilian silenced the messenger before they could get too worked up. "I've heard enough."

"Your Majesty, what if it intends to harm the Nest?"

Aquilia looked at his General, Hawk, and shared a silent consensus.

"We will not interfere, for now." He climbed off his throne, gesturing for his closest advisors to follow him away. "If it indeed is a creature from the Abyss, then we do not have the power to stop it. Call for the Little Witch, I will need her assistance."

"Yessir."

"It's Him isn't it?" Hawk asked as soon as they left the room.

Aquila could not answer without the tears spilling from his eyes, so he instead nodded profusely.

"He's Awakened," said Falcon, with abject horror in her voice. Her face was too pale, as if she were going to throw up. They all remembered the day Ravyn first developed his powers. It only worked out for them because his emotions had been projected onto the other side. Now, though, it seemed the target was on themselves.

Falcon blurted out, "Let's disband the festivities tonight. Remain on guard and ready for a confrontation."

"No." Aquila stopped and turned to face them, surprising his commanders in more ways then one. "We continue on as normal. Don't let anyone find out. And make sure Ravyn is far away tonight. Tell the Little Witch to do whatever she can, he must not see Him."

v

v

v

A ballroom filled with nobles, warriors, and courtiers made for the most efficient of distractions. The celebration of the full moon was in full swing, despite the growing danger. What was once a breathtaking sight, moonlight flooding into the room from wide windows carved into the very trunk of the Tree, reflecting off crystals and sparkling on guests' shimmery dresses, now seemed tainted with the bitter taste of betrayal. Their joyous mood was wrong, out of place, out of touch to what was happenign all around.

Even on the lower branches people were celebrating. Fires littered the ground and lanterns floated through the leaves like stars. People danced and cheered, unaware of what lurked below, coming closer and closer.

It could feel their merriment; the quick flow of their blood in their veins, the furious beating of their hearts in line with the drums, the plump flowers slowly withering away in their decorative garlands and vases, the hum of magic, ancient and feral within these very roots.

It was running, it was flying, it was moving faster than light. It was craving something: destruction.

Kor could feel again. Rage that tasted like bile in his gut. He didn't even know who he was angry at, all these people for celebrating while he suffered, or his brother for sitting on his little throne oh so comfortably. Too comfortably.

There was laughter in the ballroom, music— until the room went dark, a shadow passing through the window. Then there was suddenly silence. Too much of it.

The shadow dragged its broken body on the ground on legs that could barely support itself. Kor approached his brother's throne, broken, beaten, and bloody, but alive. The shadows around him did not fully dissapitate, as if offering support for this broken body, but he made his prescene known. Not what he was but who he was.

"I'm home!" He spat blood onto the ground. There were gasps all across the room as people took in his broken body. His wings bent at the wrong angles, ribboned and shredded and plucked. His hands that hung limp at his sides, fingers twisted and useless. The new and old blood covering his pale hair and pale skin and pale feathers, a stark contrast against the moonlit white. And his face. The shadows clung to his face the most, as if covering the gory sight. Where his left eye should have been was a black, bloody hole. Kor smiled, showing sharp teeth.

"I'm home!" He said again, turning to the rest of the court. He watched them recoil in disgust and fear. You made me like this.

"Corvus." Aquilian called to him from to throne. It was too quiet to hear by anybody but them. Kor ignored him.

"Aren't you happy? I clawed myself back up here— why are you backing away? Am I not beautiful enough for you anymore?" He spat more blood on the floor then wiped his mouth. "Why aren't you celebrating?" The last one came out as a shout.

"That's enough Corvus." Aquilian's voice boomed from his throne. Kor turned and blinked at him, as if just remembering he was here.

He smiled. "Dear brother! Won't you welcome me in your arms? Lick my wounds clean? Where's my mother to take care of me?"

"Corvus." Aquilian's voice was dark, "That's enough. Come with us, stop making a scene."

"A scene? Like the one you didn't throw when you learned what their Captain did to me? Why should I stay quiet, brother?" He turned to the audience, "Aren't I your Prince? Aren't I worthy of your love, too?" His voice broke on the last phrase, still healing from the screaming.

He would continue but he suddenly felt the prescense of something too hot at his side. "Ahh!" He shied away from it as if it burned. Why! Why was he feeling again?

Aquilian got up from his throne. "Friends, an Abyssal Apparation has taken control of the Prince! His journey to the Well of Abyss proved too dangerous— this is the consequence of seeking magic not allocated for us! From now on, all travel to Abyssal locations is forbidden. We must prevent something like this happening to one of us!"

Whispers spread throughout the room like dry leaves caught in a strong gale.

"Is that really the Prince?"

"Did the Abyss.. do.. that?"

"Didn't he mention the Sea Folk?"

"Well obviously the Abyss is corrupting his mind!"

"We must not mess with knowledge like that."

"Wha-what?" Kor could feel the room stirring around him— against him. Those eyes that had racked him in fear now cast their judgement upon his bloodied, naked form. His head was swimming. His side burned.

He turned so his eye could see. It was his brother's General, holding his mighty Lance, alight with flame. No— not flame, light. It hurt. He just wanted things to stop hurting.

"Don't worry friends! We will subdue him with haste. We cannot let this blight stop our worship, the festival must continue!"

Hands grabbed him, he struck out— not again, no please!— but their grip held. He couldn't see, his vision was blinded by light—

"Calm, Prince." A familiar voice, one that once told him to wait patiently as she sorted out a disturbance. It felt so long ago.

"No!" Kor screamed. He couldn't let them do this again, he could feel phantom touches crawling on his body, he could feel the sting of a knife cutting into his flesh—

"Hold him down," the King's voice commanded. Kor wailed, vision blurred with tears that spilled from his eye and traveled down his face, becoming stained with red.

Please, he begged, before his consciousness released him.

[develop-your-oc]

Lovey Dovey OC Development Prompts

Here’s a lil’ somethin’ somethin’ for you all on this corporate holiday! You can fill this out on your own, or you can ask your followers to send you numbers! (Oh, and remember that the real holiday is tomorrow, when all the holiday candy is discounted.) Have fun!

♥ (01) Is your OC in love? If so, with whom, and for how long? ♥ (02) Does another OC love your OC? If so, whom, and does your OC know? ♥ (03) Are there any romantic gestures that your OC loves? ♥ (04) Are there any romantic gestures that your OC hates? ♥ (05) What is the most romantic thing your OC has done for someone else? ♥ (06) What is the most romantic thing that has been done for your OC? ♥ (07) How successful is your OC at flirting with others? ♥ (08) What is your OC’s dream marriage proposal? ♥ (09) What is your OC’s favorite small way to show their love? ♥ (10) What is your OC’s favorite big way to show their love? ♥ (11) What do others love most about your OC? ♥ (12) What do you love most about your OC? ♥ (13) How does your OC show their love to those that are not their partner(s)? ♥ (14) Does your OC have any romantic traditions? ♥ (15) What is your OC’s favorite type of Valentine’s Day candy? ♥ (16) What is your OC’s ideal first date? ♥ (17) Could your OC fall in love with someone they’ve never met in person? ♥ (18) Does your OC have a “type”? ♥ (19) How highly does your OC value love (platonic, romantic, or otherwise)? ♥ (20) How does your OC feel about public displays of affection? ♥ (21) Does your OC believe in love at first sight? ♥ (22) How often does your OC read romantic literature? ♥ (23) What is your OC’s favorite nice thing to do for themselves? ♥ (24) How does your OC determine that they’re attracted to someone? ♥ (25) Does your OC believe in soulmates? ♥ (26) Is your OC ever the first to say “I love you”? ♥ (27) How does your OC typically spend their Valentine’s Day? ♥ (28) What is something unconventional that your OC thinks is romantic? ♥ (29) What is your OC’s favorite love song? ♥ (30) What is your OC’s favorite romantic movie?

[nevada-wrytes]

I promised the second part of this little fantasy/heist story I've created, so here it is. Like I said before, I won't be actively contributing to this story anymore, but I wanted to edit what I've written so far in order to share it.

Hope you enjoy <3 (also read the first part here)

content warning for gore and suicide mention

Ezra

“Hey Ezzie.” The door squeaked shut. Ezra ignored the shuffle of footsteps and scowled.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” She reorganized the vials and medical serums covering the table, again.

Lenny stopped to perch at her side. “Is she...doing any better?” 

Ezra stopped her mindless idling and sighed. “Tomorrow’s the last day,” she said in a small voice.

“Oh,” he replied in an even smaller voice. 

Ezra sniffed, suddenly overcome by the enormous effort it took to keep tears out of her eyes. “What if I can’t save her, Lenny?” Her voice broke and she stifled a sob. Then another.

As soon as that happened, there were comforting hands on her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. Lenny shushed her. “Don’t think like that, Ez. You’re the best healer I know.”

Despite her feelings, Ezra chuckled weakly, healer my ass.

She felt the walls inside her crumble, tears flowing out of her eyes like a raging river. She sobbed into Lenny’s shirt, deep, ugly wails. Lenny’s hands made soothing circles down her back, and, eventually, she felt herself relax.

“Lenny, if I don’t wake her up, do you think James would throw me out, too?” 

Lenny pulled away and scowled. “If James wants to continue being the asshole he is and throw you out next, then poison him good, alright?”

Ezra laughed, “Lenny! What if he hears you!” 

“What would he do? Throw me into the dungeons for committing high treason against his Royal Highness?”

Ezra laughed again and wiped her eyes. She sniffled. “You should go to sleep, it’s going to be dawn soon.”

“And what about you?”

She shook her head. “I need to save Luna first.”

“Ezra-” Lenny cut himself off with a sigh, “just don’t overextend yourself, okay?” 

She nodded as he left the room, and Ezra followed to make sure the door was shut tight. Once the hardwood was locked, she slid down onto the floor, too exhausted to stand.

Ezra wanted to scream and cry, out of despair yes, but mostly frustration. Luna had, at best, forty-eight hours to live, and she would work tirelessly through every one of those in order to get her back.

James

James snuck back into the abandoned manor house, simultaneously grateful to not meet anyone on his way, but also disappointed with the patrolling work of his gang.

He was barefoot, his trousers ripped to the knees and the remnants of his shirt laying in tatters across his chest. He didn’t even know what had become of his jacket. He found his was to his office, a room no one else would dare to enter, and collapsed onto the floor.

He was cold, tired, and bleeding heavily through multiple wounds on his legs and chest. It was a pain to even pull himself up, but he knew he had to do that. Using a broken mirror and some towels he’d acquired from a nearby bathroom, he was able to examine the extent of his injuries.

Up and down his legs were vertical slashes, the worst gouges an inch deep, and probably requiring stitches. His arms had been sparred of anything besides minor scratches, but when he cleared away his shirt, what he saw caused him to shudder. Three identical scratches across his heart, like a taboo. They weren’t deep, but they were worrying. Apart from those, his upper body was mostly intact, so he moved on the bite in his neck.

There were two gouges where the teeth had sunk in, but the most worrying was that the skin around the wound had puffed up and was oozing a dark liquid, not blood, but something stranger. In the dim light, it seemed black, but when he held it up to a candle, it was inky blue.

Are myryad bites poisonous? he thought. No stories had mentioned this before, so James was operating under the assumption that it was an infection, not a poison, and he needed to act fast. He did not have the medical supplies with him to patch himself up properly, but he dreaded making the climb down to where Ezra help camp, and much worse, the chance of seeing Luna.

To stop the bleeding, he cut strips of the towels and wrapped them around his legs as well as he could. Halfway through, he realized, with mild panic, that he was simply too exhausted to do this on his own. His vision swam again, and he panicked, thinking he was underwater and unable to breathe.

James needed help, but he refused to admit it. He couldn’t tell anyone what he just saw, who would believe he had an encounter with a creature of myth?

No one, besides Luna, he thought. And it was true. The one person who would believe any word that came out of his mouth was dying, and it seemed he would die with her.

…

James woke in a panic, limbs and joints protesting after having fallen asleep in a twisted position. Although he couldn’t hear the rain outside anymore, it was still dark, and now wind wailed through the old house loud enough to wake the dead.

He’d bled through his makeshift bandages, and now the congealed blood caked his legs like a second skin. James felt sick. He hadn’t eaten or drank anything since running away, and now his head spun, which could have also been from the blood loss. He staggered up, body and mind both feeling sluggish. He lit a candle and used the fractured mirror on the desk to check his other wounds, but almost screamed. The bite on his neck and swollen to the size of an egg in his sleep. The skin around it looked black, and it continued oozing that blue stuff. What was worse, was his face. His eyes were red and puffy, surrounded by dark circles from exhaustion, but splitting his face like a scare was a vein of darkness.

James wanted to throw up. The rational part of him knew it was only the infection causing this, but he was too tired to be sensible anymore. He looked like a monster, and it was all his fault.

Ezra

“Ezra!”

Ezra woke with a gasp, disturbing the vials balanced precariously on the table. She hurriedly looked where Luna lay, but she was still unmoving. A moonlit sleeping beauty. If she hadn’t been the one who spoke then who..?

Her questions were answered when a loud whisper repeated, ““Ezra, over here!”

Ezra rubbed her eyes. In the corner, just where the light of the fading candle couldn’t reach, stood a person, but why weren’t they coming closer?

“James?” she asked, coming to her senses.

“Yes, it’s me,” he said, “Listen, there’s been a sort of...accident. I- ugh. N..need some help.”

Confused, she stood up , dusting herself off, “What do you mean ‘accident’? Did you hurt one of the crew?”

“What? Gods, no. I- it only happened to me.”

Ezra hmped. “Sounds a little like karma,” she said as she folded her arms across her chest.

James sighed in frustration, “Look, if you don’t forgive me for the thing with Cee, that’s fine. Just give me some bandages and I’ll be on my way.”

Ezra chewed her lip. “Do you have a fever?”

“No, why would you assume-”

“You said, ‘Gods, no’ earlier. For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve repeatedly shown little faith in anything other than yourself.”

James made another noise of annoyance. “Could you just give me some damn bandages?”

“Why? To wrap you broken ego-” She caught herself off in the middle of her tease as the light shifted in the room, revealing something scarlet blooming across James’s legs. She gasped, “Good Goddess, James! You’re actually bleeding!”

Ezra rushed over, but he held her away at arms length, far enough she couldn’t see his face, still covered in shadow.

“I need you to keep this between you and me,” he said, “No one else knows.”

Ezra’s eyes widened, but she nodded. She stepped back to give him space, and after a moment of hesitation, he followed her into the light.

Her jaw dropped, “James! I- what happened?” Blood seeped through poorly done bandages on his legs and a lump of swollen skin pulsed with some sort of darkness, the infection already spreading to his face. Dark veins stood out on his pale face, eventually spilling even more darkness into his eye. Ezra wondered if he could even still see.

James didn’t answer at first, only cast his eyes to the floor. As Ezra got him seated in a chair, he mumbled, “I was hoping you would tell me.”

Ezra huffed, hands on her hips. She saw through his obvious lie, having been around him enough. “You have to tell me what bit you if you want my help, James.”

He stared up at her in surprise, “How’d you know it was a bite?”

“The two very obvious puncture wounds, plus it seems to be excreting some sort of venom, a poison, maybe.”

James hesitated, “Do you...do you know about..the sea folk?”

“Uhm,” Ezra thought for a minute as she took the bloody bandages off his legs. His flesh was torn up from ankles to thighs, numerous deep vertical slashes. “I think I remember a story Cap told us once. Like mermaids but- ugh, what were they called?”

James gulped. “Myryads,” he whispered.

“Oh yeah, I remember.” She worked quickly and efficiently on his legs, cleaning and disinfecting the wounds as best as she could. James, for all his part, didn’t flinch or wince away much. She looked around her medical supplies for a sewing needle and thread, and got to work disinfecting those.

“So the mir-miryad, what about them?”

James hissed when the needle first punctured his skin. She handed him a bottle of whatever leftover alcohol she had used to disinfect her supplies and he chugged it gratefully. Only when he set the empty bottle down did he continue.

“I think I was bit by one.”

Ezra paused in the middle of a stitch. She laughed, nervously.

“James- you sure you don’t have a fever? When was the last time you ate something-”

She searched his face for signs on the joke, but he looked dead serious. Ezra stared at the bite on his neck, “You don’t mean-”

He nodded, “It’s true, look.” He moved part of his shirt away, revealing three distinctive claw marks directly over his heart. The rest of his chest was untouched, so it almost seemed as if- as if they’d been done on purpose.

Ezra was staring, wide-eyed in disbelief, as she went back to working on the stitches. “It- it couldn’t have been something else?” she asked, “like a snake or..?”

James shook his head. “It happened last night. I was walking by the beach and- one pulled me under-”

Ezra scoffed, “You followed one to the beach? Were you feeling suicidal? Don’t you know the stories?”

James huffed, “More than you, but that’s besides the point-”

“How did you even manage to escape! Actually, no, how were you stupid enough to follow her into the water in the first place?”

“Well obviously I didn’t do it willingly.”

“Then-”

Ezra looked up to find James staring at Luna across the room. A faint blush spread into his face, but that could have just been his very probably fever. Still, Ezra knew that look. She rolled her eyes, men.

“So she tricked you, and you got attacked? But you got away? Okay-” Ezra finished the last of the stitches and took out a roll of bandages- “but what do you plan on doing now?”

James scowled, “How should I know? You’re the medic so,” he gestured to his neck, “fix it.”

Ezra shot him a glare and tied the last bandage extra tight. He yelped and she patted his leg, rising up.

“It’s not like I have magic hands, James. I don’t know a thing about myryads.”

“Ask Cap then, Ezra. Besides, aren’t you a poison specialist?”

“Real poisons,” she crossed her arms across her chest, “Not poisons from fantasy creatures-”

“Please, Ezra?” James bit his lip, “Look, I know I may have said some things and been a bit rude-”

“A bit?” she raised a brow.

“Okay, I was an asshole. I know you don’t forgive me, but-”

Ezra raised a hand to stop this awkward apology. “I don’t want to hear your excuse. I know it wasn’t right for you to kick Cee out like that, but I guess this is your gang. I’m not forgiving you,” she sighed, “But you know I’ll try to help.”

He smiled, “Thanks, Ez. You’re-”

“Save your forced praise,” she interrupted. “I’ll go talk to Cap. In the meantime, get something to eat and drink, oh, and here,” she handed him a small vial, “this should reduce the swelling.”

He nodded and risked a glance over to where Luna slept.

“James, about her-” Ezra started, but he shook his head to stop her.

“I know you are doing your best,” he said and hobbled out of the room. 

Ezra sighed. She walked over to Luna to check on her, but again, she hadn’t moved. Ezra straightened the blankets on top of her with a chuckle, “This blasted wind, am I right?”

She looked around to make sure she was alone before giving Luna a kiss on her forehead. Ezra sighed wistfully, “What has James gotten into now, Luna?” The girl’s hand was soft when Ezra picked it up, but growing colder. It was a harsh reminder of her impending fate.

Someone knocked on the door. Startled, Ezra dropped Luna’s hand and moved away from her.

It was Lenny, “Ez?” He asked through the door, “I brought you some food, thought you might like some.”

Ezra shot one last lingering look at Luna before going to the door, “You’re the best, Lenny,” she said as she unlocked it, “Come in.”

***

After eating, Ezra left Luna’s sick room after what seemed like weeks, but could have only been a little more than a day.

She was greeted by the rest of the gang sitting quietly in one of the living rooms, playing cards. They paused when she entered the room, no doubt she, too, looked like a fright from not sleeping for days.

“Bonsoir, Ezra. Is everything alright with Luna?” Jacques asked

“Same as before, Jacques,” she huffed. “D’you know where I can find Cap?”

“Check the porch in the back,” answered Shaemus, Cap’s second.

She nodded and bid them a goodbye before heading outside. The storm wasn’t quite over yet, as a fierce wind blew in from the ocean. Ezra shivered, wishing she had worn her jacket.

“Hey Cap.” She sat down on the bench the old sailor was using as his footrest once he’d made room for her. 

“Hello, lass.” He took his pipe out and smiled at her with crooked teeth. Ezra liked Cap, he’d always been kind to her, even when she had been a rebellious teenager and had done everything in her power to become hated by everyone around her. It helped that she was his favorite, too, out of the rest of the kids here.

“Have you been getting enough sleep?” He asked, “Eating? It ain’t good to focus yourself too much on the lovely Lady.”

“I know Cap, thank you.”

“Aye, don’t mention it.” He coughed, “Someone has to look after you all from time to time.”

Ezra smiled, and they sat there in comfortable silence as he went back to smoking from the pipe and she looked off into the distant sea. 

“Cap, do you know anything about..mir-myryads?”

His brows furrowed. “Aye, had my encounters with the sea-beasts. Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “Just came to my mind. Must be the weather.” 

Cap nodded. “Well, I’ll tell you, they’re nasty little devils. Drag you down and drink you dry, as my buddies used to say. No compassion those sea witches-” he quickly added, “No offense to your lot of witches, of course, just ‘em are bastards.”

“None taken,” sighed Ezra, “So they bite humans? But what if one escapes?”

He shook his head, “No escaping the sea-folk once they hook their little claws in you.”

Ezra frowned. “Surely someone had to have escaped once.”

Cap sighed and leaned closer. “Don’t say this to anyone else, but I knew a fella who got bitten by one of ‘em. One of my crew, actually, a long time ago. We managed to haul him up before the fool was bled dry-”

“And? What happened? Was the bite poisonous?”

“Well, know that I think ‘bout it, sure enough I might’ve been. By come morning it’d swollen to the size of an apple. All black with the sea folk’s blood too.”

“Did he.. did he survive?”

Cap shook his head. “We lost him the next day. Some poison I tell you, spread through his veins like fire.”

Ezra gulped. “Was there… any way to cure it, you think?”

“Not that I know of,” he must have seen the disappointment on her face because he added, “Aye but don’t worry, lass. Sea folk don’t come this far inland. S’long as you don’t go strolling by the beaches you won’t get bitten.”

Ezra laughed, if only to lighten the mood. “I promise I won’t, Cap.”

“Aye, I know you’re smarter than that, Ezra.”

Without another word, he went back to his pipe, watching the dark sky. Ezra went back inside, wondering how she was supposed to tell everyone both Luna and James were fated to die by tomorrow.

Shaemus spotted him approach the group first. He slurred, “Ey Lenny, where ya been?” It was obvious they’d all found more liquor reserves in the cellar.

Lenny

“Here and there,” Lenny shrugged as he sat down next to the group playing cards.

“Any words from le capitan?” Jacques asked.

Lenny shook his head. “He’s probably still hiding in his room, too scared to face us.” They all laughed. 

“After what he did-” someone started.

“I’m sure he had his reasons,” Lenny shut them down, quick.

“To throw a little girl onto the streets?” Jacques scowled.

Lenny shrugged “Well, we aren’t all highly virtuous.” This brought on another round of laughs. 

“Have a drink with us, play a round, Lenny.” Shaemus swung an arm around his shoulders. He poked a finger into his chest, “You’ve been too tight since we’ve come ‘ere.”

Lenny shook my head, “Have you all forgotten ‘bout the Hits?”

Most of them shrugged. Rai said, “It’s dark and cold, with another storm coming. Doubt even the Hits would stay out in weather like this.”

Lenny looked around at their expecting faces, all eager to get back to drinking and gambling. To them, he had always been the carefree one, the one to pull the others into a game, the one that lounges around, drink in hand, singing old ballads about fair maidens and riches.

Lenny hated himself for making them believe that’s who he was. Still, he gritted his teeth and smiled.

“Alright, alright, but just two rounds and a toast.”

“Why not three?” They laughed.

“Three toasts? Bring it on!” He flashed them a grin as the first shot of rough liquor went down his throat. It burned but he pretended he liked it, already in line for more.

I wish James was here, he thought miserably.

Cee

Cee couldn’t leave the island because of the storm. Them and Sarj wandered as close as they dared to the abandoned manor, trying to find shelter. Eventually, they found the remains of a tiny fishing village, hardly more than a few houses and a broken dock. It, too, was abandoned like the rest of the island, its inhabitants long gone. 

They chose the house that looked the safest, the walls and roof still intact. Inside, it was dusty and predictably empty. Sarj found some wood in the back and coaxed a small fire in the cold fireplace. Soon, the cottage, and it really was more of a cottage, glowed with a warm light. Cee settled themselves on a pile of straw next to the fire and drew their knees to their chest. 

“Sarg,” Cee looked up to the giant of a man sitting across from them, “Why is this island abandoned?”

“You don’t know the story?” he asked. They shook their head. 

“Oh, well some time ago, this entire island was the property of a really important man, a Lord, actually. He welcomed many people onto his lands to fish and farm, until he effectively created his own little kingdom.

“Everything was running smoothly, until one night, where he turned mad. Some say it was because his Lady died, a broken-heart, others say it was from an illness. Regardless, he terrorized the people on the island, even his own daughter, kicking her out of her childhood home. Except, anyone who tried to leave,” Sarj pantomimed slicing his neck, “you get it.”

Cee nodded, sullenly. “His Lady died.. like Luna? Lady Moon?”

Sarj shrugged, “Guess you could say that.”

“So then what happened to the Lord?”

“Oh, well,” Sarj laughed nervously, “Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore, and- ugh, he jumped off the cliff by the manor. Legend goes that his spirit now haunts the entire island, welcoming visitors, then stopping them if they ever try to leave."“

Cee shivered.

“Oh, but don’t worry! It’s just a story. The only reason no one’s ever come back to this island is because the weather’s so piss poor. Ghosts aren’t going to hurt ya, much less stop you from leaving.”

Cee nodded. “I wasn’t worried,” they said, even though they were, in fact, a little worried. A lot worried. This island made them feel trapped, just like the lab.

“So how are we gonna get off if the entire island is abandoned?”

“Ah,” Sarj began, “I didn’t say the entire place was abandoned. There’s still a lighthouse on the Southern end, meant to keep ships from crashing into the rocks near the coast. I reckon someone’s up there, and we could wait ‘til I supply ship comes for them and then barter our way onboard.”

“And what if we can’t do that?”

Sarj ruffled their hair. “Don’t think like that, Cee, we’ll be able to escape.”

Cee smiled, weakly, “Thanks again, Sarj, for deciding to come with me.”

Sarj smiled back. “No problem, kid. It’s the least I could do.”

[nevada-wrytes]

A little something I wrote long ago but decided to revisit and edit today. There will be a second part but I don't think I will continue to write story any time soon (little busy with Jamie and Luke's novel :P)

Previously, a runaway science experiment offers her services to a gang in the city in order to be smuggled out of the country. Little do her allies know she is being hunted by the best army on the continent (The Hits). They use her powers to pull off a daring heist, but that places a target on their backs, so now they, too, are on the run, currently taking shelter on a deserted, supposedly haunted island off the coast of their city.

James 

"Boss, boss, boss!" 

James looked up from the multitude of papers covering the desk he’d commandeered as his own. Lenny had barged into his make-shift office looking paler than a ghost. Maybe he had seen a ghost- again. If that was the case, James had no time to entertain such fairy tales, not when their lives were at stake.

He grumbled, "What now Lenny?" 

Lenny was breathless. "It's Luna— they've taken her! The Hits have got her."

“What.” James stood so fast a teacup that had been perched precariously on a stack of files fell to the floor with a crash. He payed it no attention. “Explain,” he said, gritting his teeth, “Right. Now.”

Lenny still struggled to catch his breath, and now he raked a shaky hand through his hair, a tell of his nerves. “W-well, we were on watch— me and Rai— i-in the trees next to their camp. And- and she was doing her rounds, too, when they came out of nowhere— I wanted to go help her, I swear, but then the Hits would’ve known we've been spying on 'em, you know? And- so me and Rai watched them take her to the docks-" 

James had heard enough. "I can't believe this.”

He stormed out of the room. Lenny called after him, “James! James, wait!”

James did not stop. Not even when Lenny caught up with him and grabbed his arm, pulling him back. James simply shook him off, “Get Ezra, get Cap, and get me a boat so I can get off this fucking island!”

Lenny’s voice was pleading, “James, you can't go marching into their camp like- like this!”

James turned to him, the well he kept his anger in threatening to overflow. “Then what do you want me to do? Leave Luna there to die?”

He didn’t mean to shout, but Lenny flinched anyways. His voice was low. “Look James, I don't want her to stay there either, but we need a plan. Isn't that what you are always telling me? That a good plan is the key to success?”

James looked down at his second in command, his first second in command, right into those big blue eyes that had tricked him into believing in their false innocence long ago. Lenny was right, unfortunately, and it annoyed him to have his own words reflected back onto him.

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Alright. I need a plan.”

“We need a plan.”

James waved a hand, “Yes, yes.” He merely agreed for the sake of it, he had no intention of asking any of the others for help. He could do it on his own. James ignored the worried look in Lenny’s eyes and walked off, already weighing the toll of the heist he would have to pull off to get his girl back.

...

After sacrificing the last of his luck to the Goddess of Fate, James is successfully able to infiltrate the camp and get Luna back, not without first learning the values of cooperation and teamwork (he could not, in fact, do this on his own). However, there’s a problem. The Hits had given Luna some sort of experimental drug that knocked her into a coma, and it seemed she was not waking up any time soon. Ezra, the gang’s resident poison specialist and sorry excuse for a medial professional examines the girl and the toll the drug has done on her body. They were too late. Luna had, at best, three days to live.

...

James

The whole world was falling apart. Shapes that should have been in focus now blurred around him as his vision swam. The ocean was too far away, but James could swear he heard the crash of waves in his head as his heart beat a furious crescendo in his body. He should have felt sad, heartbroken, even, but all he saw was red.

Anger had been a familiar taste on his tongue ever since he was an invisible boy in a seaside town where those that did stop to hear his words usually only laughed. He’d gotten good, over the years, of keeping it in check, of building that well inside him brick by brick just to keep his anger from spilling out.

But now that well had cracked and crumbled, been bombed away by a horror worse than supernatural— something man-made. Naked anger had crawled out of that deep well he’s made just to laugh at his measly attempt to keep his true nature at bay.

Without walls, there was nothing stopping it now. And there was only one person responsible.

“You.” James’s glare singled out a singular body in the crowd. The small little seedling he had allowed to take root in his gang now threatened to overshadow them all. It didn’t take long for all conversations to die around him, and it took Cee much less to realize what he was about to say.

He watched her shrink away from him, as if he was the predator and she was prey. He did not relish in the fear in her eyes. It made him feel worse. The more innocent she acted, the more the hatred in his gut pointed at himself, and that made him angry. Angry enough to move mountains, angry enough to command the tide.

“That's it. You’re done.”

“W-what?” Her voice was so small. James hated her for making him feel bad. She was the weapon of mass destruction. She was the they were on the run from the Hits. It’s her fault Luna is— Luna is—

“Dead. You’re dead to me,” he pointed a finger at her chest with each word, “Get. Out.”

“James-” Sarj warned, crossing the room just to get in between them.

“No.” James turned to him. “I’m the leader here. I say who stays and who goes. She’s been enough of a problem as it is, and now I want nothing to do with her.”

Ezra spoke up, “James, she’s just a girl. Are you really throwing a child into the streets?”

James was sent fuming at her tone. “Just a girl! Are you kidding me? She is a super weapon ready to explode! All of our misfortunes have been her fault!”

Silence rang through the crowd. But in the silence, a small voice chirped, “I’m staying.”

James turned back in disbelief to see Cee standing with her chest puffed out in defiance. “You need me with Luna-”

“Don’t say her name!” It took three men to hold him back from lunging at the child. James didn’t even realize he’d moved. He was more so surprised at the snarl in his voice. He felt like a monster. But he couldn’t stop.

“You are the reason she got in this mess in the first place! If you hadn’t brought the strange soldiers to us, we would never be in this situation! We wouldn’t have to be squatting in a ditch on the run for harboring you! I am sick and tired of other people telling me how to run my gang because of you! You are the reason Luna is going to-”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, his shouts about to turn into tears. He refocused on that raging fury, anything, to stop thinking about the girl dying in the other room.

James looked right into Cee’s eyes and continued. “I want you out. Out of my sight, out of my gang, out of my life! And if you ever think of showing your face in my city again, I will turn you in myself.” He spit out the last words as if they were poison. He stood there for a moment, transfixed in the way he was reflected in Cee’s blank, glassy eyes. He was red in the face and yelling with wide eyes, sheer insanity burning in them.

At last, he turned and faced the rest of his gang. “As for the rest of you,” he huffed, “back to work! The Hits won’t stop looking for their lost lab reject and I’m not going back to that camp to save any of your sorry asses if you get captured.”

No one moved. No one spoke, either, until Ezra faced him, pleading, “James, you’re being unreasonable. You can’t just throw a girl out onto the streets when her life is in danger. Please- what would Luna think?”

James ignored the sting of her words. “If you,” he made a show of turning around to face every other person in the group, “or anyone else disagrees with me, then I think it’s time you found another gang willing to take in your sorry reject of a soul.”

With that, and his jaw set in determination, James walked out of the manor, right into the pouring rain.

…

The storm raged on around him with the intense passion of a desperate lover. It reminded him, bitter sweetly, of his home, and the storms they used to get coming down from the North. That rain was always cold, threatening to freeze your bones in place if you so much step outside to get to the outhouse, and all through the night the only sound was the churning ocean below as it tore apart docks and boats and anything else in it’s way.

This was not that type of storm, but Jamie felt like it was, regardless.

Thunder rumbled somewhere close by as he found his way down to the beach, past steep cliffs and scraggly bushes that would sooner shred him to bits than offer a cushion to land on. Only when he reached the pebbly bottom, though, did he feel his resolve crumble.

The beach was just like the one back home.

James screamed. His voice was the thunder, every crashing wave, every lightning strike. He did not find peace letting his voice go hoarse, instead he felt all his emotions rise up in a catastrophic wave, threatening to drown him.

His situation was bad. Although he’d done what was best for the future of the gang, he knew it was wrong. A few members on the fringe would leave after his harsh words. Sarj, his only muscle, would go. He’d grown too close to Cee over the past few months to let her go alone. Jaque and Rai had enough money to buy themselves out, if they so chose to. Lenny was too far in debt to run, now, so he had no choice to stay. Neither did Ezra, since she wouldn’t leave Luna for the world.

Luna. What would Luna think of what he’s done? It was her idea to help Cee, would she be angry with him for not seeing it through? Cee had done her part of the bargain in getting them through the heist, and now he wasn’t keeping his. By letting her go, he was shunning their contract in the first place. A betrayal like that demanded divine punishment, but James ignored the warning signs.

His mind ached for Luna. He craved her calming presence, her graceful air, he craved her. Luna, as gentle and beautiful as moonlight itself.

“Jamie?” He stirred from his thoughts. That was Luna’s voice, no one called him Jamie— no one dared— besides her. It was his Luna— had Ezra managed to heal her? Had she woken up, stirred by his panicking thoughts?

“Luna?” He turned, frantically looking around at the cliff side, but she was not there. Instead, she was already on the beach, ankle deep in the incoming tide.

She looked like she did before, skin smooth and gleaming as if shining from underneath, and hair a soft silvery cloud being whipped around by the wind.

She looked at him like she always did, as if he was a red-hot steel bar that she just couldn’t let go.

“Luna!” Once he realized she was not an illusion created by his own mind, he ran to her. He picked her up in his arms and spun her around. She was much lighter than he remembered, and surprisingly cold, and wet. She had been outside in this storm too long, he needed to get her back inside before she caught a cold.

“Jamie,” she breathed, still in his arms.

“I missed you so much” he said, choking on tears. Sadness threatened to spill out of him almost as eagerly as his anger had before. He held it back, if only for Luna’s sake.

“H-how are you back? Did Ezra heal you?”

“Jamie.” Luna looked at him with sulky eyes. The tide was up to his knees now, it was really coming in fast.

“Luna?” He said only her name, but it was phrased as a question. “Are you alright? You’re creeping me out.”

Her motionless stare, her body, too shimmery to be real, and her scent. Salt and brine. The ocean, something one couldn’t smell like unless they spent all their hours close to fishing docks and seaweed filled water. Something was wrong, and it was not just the fact that the water was now up to his thighs, climbing to his waist, and threatening to pull him under. Just like the creature in front of him.

No sooner had what he thought was Luna’s strong support turned into the deadly vise of something not human, that he knew it was too late— all he could do was catch a breath before he was pulled under.

…

Calloused, worn hands rocked him back and forth. Somewhere outside the safety of these warm arms breathed the ocean, a gentle rumble in the background, nothing more.

Still, the dark clouds on the horizon filled the house with tension, and Jamie wished he could ease his grandmother’s worries.

Neither of them talked as they sat on the rocking chair, the older woman boring a hole into the window and the younger boy burying his face in the clean scent of her clothes.

Finally, James had the guts to ask, “Why are you scared?”

It took his grandmother a moment to answer.

“When I was a girl, I wanted to go swimming on the eve of a storm.”

The sun began it’s descent as she continued, “It was around midday, but the docks were deserted. I remember setting down my towel, a blue one with stripes, and sitting down on the old boards, just plunging my feet in, feeling the seaweed drift around my ankles, and then feeling something else.

Hair. Underwater. It felt soft, but thick, similar to the seaweed, but the darkest blue I’ve ever seen. So close to black, that I thought it was one of my own kin coming to spook me, but no, it was something different.”

A little girl, not much older than me, peeked her head out of the water. Her skin was the blue of a breathless baby, and she smelled like death. But she smiled when she saw me, a smile full of pointy teeth.”

“Were you scared?” James interrupted. He knew about the sea-folk. Everyone in town did. He’d heard the warnings, he understood when not to go near the water, and he knew to turn around when he heard his name called by the ocean, no matter what lovely voice sang it.

Don’t trust the sea-folk, they said. They’d sooner drain you dry then love ya, that’s for sure.

His grandmother stopped rocking. “I wasn’t as scared as I should have been. I was foolish— and curious. I didn’t believe the stories, but there one was right in front of me. I guess I was luckily, because she was young, too. She didn’t try to grab me, only smiled, as if it, too, was her first time seeing someone different from her. Finally, she asked if I still wanted to go for a swim with her. I managed to shake my head and, with a disappointed shrug, she sank back under. Poor me sat frozen on those docks until the first droplets of rain began pouring, in which I quickly picked up my things and ran back home.”

“Don’t fill his head with garbage.” His uncle walked into the room, cradling a bottle. “The sea-folk don’t ask for permission ‘fore they drag you under. It’s just bam! And then you’re good as gone.”

His grandmother shot the man an irritated look. “Don’t interrupt me, I wasn’t finished. You see James, although I was sparred by the Goddess of Luck that day, others did not share the same fate. After the storm, we found three bodies, pale and shrunken, washed up by the tide. Three claw marks around their heart told their fate— and one of the marks were smaller than the rest, as if made by tiny hands. I reckon it was my sea-girl’s first kill. You never know when you’re luck is going to run out, James.” She lowered her voice, “So, remember, it is best to never bargain with the myryads in the first place.”

…

The water was dark, filled with debris and swirling bubbles. The thing that held James in its claws and would not let go had dissipated it’s illusion. No longer did it pretend to be Luna, instead what emerged from the bubbles was a gangly monster, vaguely feminine with drippy hair like dark seaweed and saggy skin covered in shiny scales. This creature, he knew, was a story. A fairy tale, nothing more than Lenny’s ghost. But it was right here in front of him, and it was begging him to say it’s name: a myryad.

Although the salt water stung his eyes, he refused to let them close, favoring to face death head on. Even as he furiously struggled, the sea-girl’s grip did not falter. When she had pulled him far enough under, it turned it’s head to him. Her eyes were huge, dark pits in its milky-blue face. When it opened it’s mouth, it was not Luna’s lovely voice that came out, but a high-pitched scream, a cry, a siren call to it’s friends. More were on their way.

He felt frozen, paralyzed, both by the stories he grew up with and the very real, very dangerous, fairy tale creature in front of him. Her claws ran over his skin, stopping at his mouth. He shut it tighter, clenching his teeth, as she tried to wedge it open.

James did not waste time assessing the situation. He’d been in worse situations before, but he still panicked, struggling harder than before. Claws tore into clothes, then skin, as if it was paper. Although he couldn’t see very well, he knew the water filled with his blood, getting just the coppery taste on his lips. The myryad sniffed and looked him in the eyes. Hungry.

James knew he was running dangerously low on air, and he frantically tried to remember any stories of sailors escaping capture from the sea-folk, but his mind turned up blank. The only thing he could do was fight, the revolver in his belt useless, but the small dagger in his sleeve still plenty useful in creating a gap between him and the sea-girl.

However, quicker than the lightning above, she was back on him with a cry, even as he slashed at her scales, scoring through flesh. She squeezed his wrist, and a bolt of pain shot through him, enough to make him drop the knife, foolishly. Defenseless, she gained the opportunity to strike, sinking two sharp teeth into his neck.

James cried out instinctively, before he remembered that he was underwater, and managed to swallow a mouthful of ocean. His head swam and the sea-girl began sucking him dry. It was so painful, James felt his body go numb. In a last ditch attempt to get himself free, he lashed out and managed to poke the creature in it’s big, glassy eyes.

It caused her to go reeling back, shrieking. James took that opportunity to start paddling to the surface, but he was too slow. The myryad recovered fast, and latched onto his leg. James kicked wildly, and, somehow, her grip slipped. Her claws tried to latch on, but they ripped through his legs like butter. James grit his teeth at the pain, and put all his remaining energy into kicking to the surface. The sea-girl was shrieking, and somewhere close by other shrieks responded.

Panic raced through James’s gut, but it was overwhelmed by the need for air. His head pounded, his heart beat faster than it ever had, and black spots swam in his vision, enough that he thought he was a lost cause, that this was it, he would sink to the bottom and die, feasted on by the myryads, but, miraculously, he breached the surface.

Gasp. He took a greedy breath of air before resuming his frantic paddle to the shore. When he finally pulled himself onto the sand, he definitely cried. Relief, pain, frustration, it overwhelmed him. He was so thankful to be back on solid land he didn’t even mind the pouring rain above.

James laid on the beach for what seemed like eternity, just breathing like he had never breathed fresh air before. He had really thought he wouldn’t make it. He had never even said his goodbyes. Fortunately, his luck had not run out yet. Before the adrenaline ran out, he staggered up and started for the manor. There was a pool of blood, slowly sinking into the sand, where he used to lay. His injuries stung in the rain, and he knew he needed immediate medical attention, lest he wanted them to get infected. He remembered his grandmother’s warning, his luck could run out at any time, so he hurried as fast as he could as far away from that beach as possible.

[nevvaravenn]

What, pray tell, is your favourite smell?

i pray thee well,

for i knoweth not my favorite smell.

perhaps tis the crisp clean air the autumn brings,

or the dusty odor of which the old sings,

or delicacies baking in their glowing chamber,

or oranges wrapped in peels of amber.

smells upon smells, wrapped in memories,

those upon which my likeness be

[coldgoldlazarus]

I want to see a work of fiction that reverses the "vampires are snobby upper class, werewolves are brutish lower class" stereotypes

[coldgoldlazarus]

Consider a vampire's reliance on blood as a metaphor for living paycheck-to-paycheck and depending on the kindness of others to get by, and the desparation that can make one slip into taking.

[toaarcan]

@tiredspacedragon's tags.

[thethirdromana]

[Image description: Tags reading:

#meanwhile werewolves who like #treat the full moon like a monthly vacation#or like aristocrats on a hunting trip #claiming unnecessarily large swaths of land as territory #or just throwing their weight around wherever they please #waking up the next morning either oblivious#or entirely indifferent #to the devastation#environmental and personal #they've left in their wake #maybe even doing it on purpose#most dangerous game-ing people #just to keep the wolf 'stimulated' #something like this?

A gif from Pacific Rim, where Stacker Pentecost says "You, keep talking.]

[nevada-wrytes]

List 5 things that make you happy, then ask the same of the last ten mutuals who reblogged your stuff! We're making friends out here on this valentines day :)

1. Writing! I love writing! And I love when I have a finished product that I'm so proud of and can show off.

2. When I unknowingly create symbolism or foreshadowing in my work. Like awesome!! Didn't plan that but yes!!

3. Talking about my ocs with my friends <3

4. Getting comments on my writing it's always amazing <3

5. Rereading old writing!! it's so fun!! and epic!!

[illarian-rambling]

Yay, unsolicited advice time! Or, not really advice, more like miscellaneous tips and tricks, because if there's one thing eight years of martial arts has equipped me to write, it's fight scenes.

.

Fun things to add to a fight scene (hand to hand edition)

It's not uncommon for two people to kick at the same time and smack their shins together, or for one person to block a kick with their shin. This is called a shin lock and it HURTS like a BITCH. You can be limping for the rest of the fight if you do it hard enough.

If your character is mean and short, they can block kicks with the tip of their elbow, which hurts the other guy a lot more and them a lot less

Headbutts are a quick way to give yourself a concussion

If a character has had many concussions, they will be easier to knock out. This is called glass jaw.

Bad places to get hit that aren't the groin: solar plexus, liver, back of the head, side of the thigh (a lot of leg kicks aim for this because if it connects, your opponent will be limping)

Give your character a fighting style. It helps establish their personality and physicality. Are they a grappler? Do they prefer kicks or fighting up close? How well trained are they?

Your scalp bleeds a lot and this can get in your eyes, blinding you

If you get hit in the nose, your eyes water

Adrenaline's a hell of a drug. Most of the time, you're not going to know how badly you've been hurt until after the fact

Even with good technique, it's really easy to break toes and fingers

Blocking hurts, dodging doesn't

.

Just thought these might be useful! If you want a more comprehensive guide or a weapons edition, feel free to ask. If you want, write how your characters fight in the comments!

Have a bitchin day <3

[greenteaandtattoos]

A traditional "knight saves the princess" story except at the end, the princess sighs and goes, "I suppose you want my hand in marriage as a reward" and the knight goes, "Oh, no, I'm just new in town and wanted to make friends but I've got really bad social anxiety" and the princess is like, "Rad, because I was never gonna fall in love with you" and they live happily ever after as besties (they're both aroace).

[nevada-wrytes]

4th of July

An excerpt from what I'm calling The Jamie and Luke Show. Title is yet to be determined.

Luke was gripping onto Jamie's forearm, as if his life depended on it. His fingers dug into skin and Jamie could feel the reverberations from his trembling hands.

Jamie felt amused at the irony of their situation. He was the one with a missing leg and Luke was still more scared of falling off the roof than him.

Luke noticed his smile and frowned, his voice wavering, “You're way too calm about this.”

Jamie laughed to try and break up the tension. “Relax, like I said, I used to climb up here with my dad every year. There's no way we can fall.”

Luke huffed. “Fine, but if we do, I'm using you as a pillow.”

Although Luke was clearly trying to move past it, Jamie had the sudden urge to tease him. He wanted to see him smile. He wanted to ease away that crease in his brows himself.

“Oh, is someone scared of heights?” He leaned in to poke Luke, “Is the two story building bothering you? Should I fight it for your honor?”

His grin was wide and Jamie knew it looked stupid because Luke rolled his eyes, but did not give in to the taunts. Still his mouth curved up.

Jamie stayed like that, silently watching him, for a while. Luke didn't notice, he was looking at the ground, probably sizing up how much damage he could do if he pushed him off right now. Jamie waited for Like to make a light hearted threat that would propel them into more easy banter and lighten the tension along his frame, but it never came.

Instead, Luke scooted closer, so their sides were lined up perfectly, touching ever square inch. Jamie realized Luke may be a lot more scared than he looked. Now he felt bad for dragging him up here.

He leaned in close and spoke softly, not a whisper, but something low and gentle, “Why didn't you tell me you were afraid of heights?”

Luke avoided his eyes. “You already knew. Why do you think I never climbed up the slide like you and Viv did on the playground?”

“That's when we were kids!”

Luke shrugged, or, as best as he could while plastered to roof tiles. “It just never went away I guess,” he mumbled.

Jamie frowned. Guilt crept into his perfect plan. The roof was supposed to be romantic-

Suddenly, Luke turned to him and smiled. Then squeezed his hand. Fuck, he was always so perseptive. He could always tell when Jamie was feeling upset and angry or sad. And he'd always find a way to make it better, sometimes at the expense of himself. Did Jamie really deserve him?

“Luke-” Jamie's voice was thick with emotion, the word stuck in his throat. Even if he could make the words come out, he was interrupted by a loud fizz overheard.

“Oh look! It’s starting!”

Above them, the firework show had begun. Bright sparkling trails raced into the dark clear sky and exploded into crimson, green, and gold showers. The night was soon filled with smoke and noise. Jamie was sure it was a wonderful sight, they were so high up it would almost look like they could touch the glowing sparks, but he wouldn't remember how the fireworks looked that night, because he wasn't paying attention to them at all.

He was looking at Luke. At his best friend. At the one person in the world that completes him.

Luke's eyes reflected the shining world around them like a kaleidoscope. They were wide open in pure joy. His smile was brighter than any firework could have been that night. He had only eyes for the sky, so Jamie took his time memorizing every detail of his face as if it was the first time, as if he hadn't done it before and will do it again. He loves him. He loves him. He loves him. His whole body was thrumming with that song.

Jamie inches closer. His heart was beating furiously in his chest, louder than the explosion of rockets above. During a lull in the show, when Luke turned his head towards him, and their faces were mere hairwidths apart, breaths merging, Jamie had the urge in his gut to do something stupid.

But he was always acting stupid, wasn't he?

“Jamie-?” Luke phrased it as a question, couldn't read the intention in Jamie's eyes, didn't understand the silence or the closeness, so Jamie explained the only way he knew how.

He leaned in and pressed their mouths together.

The fireworks show continued overhead, but a greater explosion was happening in Jamie's mind.

He'd dreamed of this, planned this exact moment for weeks, well maybe not exactly how it was supposed to go, he was supposed to have confessed first, but still, his dreams would never compare to being in the moment.

Luke kissed him back with a desperation Jamie didn't even know he had. His hands were soon under his chin, angling his face up so their lips were never apart. Jamie wished he could bring his hands up too, he wanted to run his fingers under Luke's jaw and over his chest and pull him so very, very close, and he soon cursed his decision of choosing the roof, where he needed both hands to keep his balance.

His first kiss, and Jamie never wanted it to end. It felt like a dream. The fireworks filled the sky with shimmering colors that cast them both in a godly light. Luke's body was warm right next to him, warmer than the now cooling night around him, and his lips were soft and chapped from all that time spent chewing off the skin when stressed. It was such a stunning realization, all these little quirks that made Luke who he was, that Jamie knew of previously, but could now experience in a new way, that he almost forgot to breathe. He didn't want it to end. But his need for air betrayed him.

Jamie gasped, and that must have pulled Luke out of whatever trance he was in, because he stopped closing in. They both panted, faces still breaths apart. Jamie stared into his eyes, and this time Luke stared back, mouth agape. His eyes were wide and dark. Disbelieving? Hopeful? His expression seemed so open, so genuine and cute that Jamie had to bite his lip from trying something again.

“Jamie,” Luke whispered, or maybe Jamie imagined it, because his hammering heart and the screeches of the rockets made it near impossible to hear anything.

Jamie opened his mouth without thinking. “Luke, I think I love you.”

His confession was all warbled and came out much too quiet, because Luke just continued staring at him in shock. His gaze dropped from Jamie's eyes to his lips and something stirred in Jamie's gut.

Jamie's head hurt. He thought it was going to explode along with the next firework. Say something, Luke, he thought, Please.

It only took him a second too long to realize Luke was trembling. Luke looked up at him and nervously said, “I want to get down from here.”

[ao3commentoftheday]

character-centric stories you can write in 1K or less

where did they get that shirt they wear in that one scene?

what is their typical morning routine?

what song got stuck in their head when they were in the grocery store just now and how do they feel about that?

what would happen to a houseplant in their care?

they're talking a 5 hour flight in economy class and they paid to choose their seat - which one do they go for?

how do they achieve a fully-assembled piece of IKEA furniture?

how would they deal with a malfunctioning computer?

what gives them ASMR - and is it a pleasant or unpleasant feeling?

what helps them fall asleep at night?

how do they behave when they have a bad cold? allergies? a migraine?

they have accidentally caused a fire - how did they do it and how do they react to it?

they are at the club - is this a good situation for them?

what is their opinion of street performers?

which social media platform(s) they use and which they hate

how do they feel about the idea that the tomato is a fruit?

where do they stand on Pluto, vis a vis its planetary status?

what would they do for a Klondike bar?

what kink did they learn about by accident on the internet, and they don't have it but they get it

who is their celebrity crush?

who is their small-time personal nemesis, separate from any big bad in the show (think neighbour, coworker, mail carrier etc.) and why do they hate them so much?

what is the last greeting card they bought? what occasion, who did they give it to, and what was the message inside?

what have they been putting off forever, even though it will only take 10 minutes?

[nevvaravenn]

Chapter 3 of my original story is up on Wattpad! Or read it on tumblr @nevada-wrytes

Raven

Do you think you're cursed? The immortal Raven King has acquired his fair share of curses throughout the ages. Although...

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Group of Friends Prompts

one of the characters insists that every group of friends needs to have a regular Karaoke night and they expect everyone to come

their friend group is physically affectionate with each other and they don't care what other people think about that

one character gets surprised with an intervention by their friends - bonus points if the problem they’re talking about is actually not that serious

the whole friend group is living together - which is a dream and a nightmare in one

one character is sick and a bit of a handful as a patient, but they need someone to take care of them, so their friends rotate as the nurse

as their friends it was their job to check out any potential partner to see if they were worth being with their friend

the friend group loses one of their members during a parade/concert/event and are trying to find them

one character comes across a mystery in the neighborhood and they make their friends come with them to solve it

the friends wanted to have a fun night out, going to the movies or the bowling alley, but for some reason everything is closed and they have to find something else to do for fun

one of the characters has an important game or audition, etc. in a different city and their friends want to surprise them and drive there to support them. What follows is a chaotic roadtrip and the question: will they make it in time?

they were not just friends; they liked to joke that they were a dysfunctional family enough to believe it was actually true

they missed the last train/bus and it’s the middle of the night and they’re still 20 km away from the place they live/stay at

two of the characters are always bickering with each other and their friends have to figure out how to handle them together

having a chaotic friend group comes hand in hand with a truly unhinged group chat

they shared everything with their friend group, relying on their different opinions to come to a conclusion to any problem

they all met on the internet and it’s finally time for their first meeting in real life

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! 🥰