seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from India
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Sweden
seen from Germany
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Yemen
seen from China
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Soaked Notes, and Felix/Marinette - screwthischatimout
send me a 🚼 and a ship I’ll use a doll-maker to design what I think a child between our two muses would look like || Still accepting!
@screwthischatimout and @thereissomethinglostinthewater
Soaked Notes: Lucille and Tarquin
(Used this doll maker)
Felinette: Felix and Marinette
(Used this doll maker)
Hey Lucille... I know we can't eat chocolate, but I did get you some seashells for White Day. They're from the bottom of the sea, in perfect condition... and they reminded me of you. -Tarq
@thereissomethinglostinthewater
Confusion crossed Lucille’s features as the seashells were offered to her. It was not the gift that perplexed her, but the occasion that it was given to her. Although, after a moment, her fingers gently taking up the immaculate shells and pulling them to her chest.
White Day. She had heard of that before, she was certain. Was it in the Far East? Yes, that was where she had heard it. A celebratory occasion for men to give women gifts. In the realization, Lucille’s smile was soft, yet bright.
Etching out her words along the sand, she glanced up to Tarquin once she was done writing. ‘I did not take you for one to think of such a holiday. I did not even give you anything for the day of love.’ Still keeping her cheerful appearance, she moved back to the sand, moving the tip of her finger through it.
‘I love them. Next time, can we go down there together?’ Using the hand that held them to look them over, the shells glistening in the moonlight. Part of her wanted to return the gift in some way. Give him something that meant such much to her.
These would have to go in her tree, to safe keep them from damage. They were too large to place in her locket. There was also something occupying that spot currently. A glistening silver ring she had pulled from a particular place several feet below the surface of the forest floor.
It produced an idea in her mind, but for another time. ‘I want to see the world that you live in.’
-leaves Tarquin for the kiss meme-
FIRST FIVE ASKS GET A KISS || 6 of 5!
@thereissomethinglostinthewater
Since his first arrival into her small town of Mystic, it had been many years since Tarquin first came into Lucille’s life. After their initial meeting, things had gone smoothly for the two of them, fostering a friendship as outcasts of their homes. The girl did not dive too much into the reasons why Tarquin would be so ignored, but instead took solace in what information she did know.
And the songs he wrote for her? Always bringing a smile to her face, even as he drew closer, to allow the subtle messages of his words flow to her. Words of affection for his friend, for his confidant, for something more than just empty promises in the ring he had offered her years prior.
Still locked up inside her locket, alongside the memory of their first–accidental–kiss, as Tarquin concluded his latest poem, something more stirred inside Lucille’s chest. A desire. Something she wanted to do since before the last time he had rode into the village.
Leaning forward, she beckoned him. “Tarquin, I…Will you not come here? I need to speak very privately to you.” Of course, they were alone in the caravan, no one else around, but even so, her voice dropped, minimizing the gap between them. Slanting her head to move towards his ear, but she stopped right at his cheek.
Brushing her lips against the supple skin of his cheek, Lucille closed her eyes briefly, grazing him with the kiss. Although not upon his lips, the contact was tender, a peck, then one, two, three of them in succession following after, like a rhythm she had conjured on the spot.
Pulling away, Lucille couldn’t help but smile at him, her cheeks warmed with color. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long, I hope you do not think ill of me for allowing it. I understand if you would brand me a harlot now, but even so, please, let me stay by you?”
A modern college AU with @thereissomethinglostinthewater!
College. It was something Lucille had thought she would have to pass up after the fine arts scholarship had fallen through with her surgery. After all, you can’t pay for a voice that won’t sing or even speak full words ever again, so when the money dried, it seemed like a far off dream.
Yet, here she was, attending a small community college in a city, her family scraping together what they could to send her. To find something she could throw her passion into aside from songs. Holding her books close to her chest, the girl looked about, not paying much mind to what was in front of her.
Which, ultimately meant colliding with someone passing in the other direction.
“...!” Lucille panicked some as she stumbled, batting her blue eyes up at the man she had walked into, her hand forming a fist and moving in circles over her chest as she mouthed the word, ‘sorry’ to him. It was one of the basic signs she had learned, but truthfully, she did not know much.
x -thereissomethinglostinthewater
FIRST FIVE ASKS GET A KISS || 1/5
@thereissomethinglostinthewater
Under the moon, the rays that poured from the sky washed the two in light along the sandy beach. Tarquin had, very slowly, been gaining back his more lively form rather than the rotting flesh that clung to him a majority of the time. He had even successfully remembered a few things in his past. Baby steps were needed, but Lucille had no fear of how much time would need to be spent by his side.
After all, the silent spirit had almost nothing but all her time to give to him.
His lips had formed back to soft, supple things that pulled into a crooked smile. Lucille offered one in turn, slanting her chin to the side as she approached the form of her lost lover cautiously. It was less of a fear and more the desire to study him. Embrace all the features that had been ravaged by the sea. Perhaps grotesque in many ways, but even still, icy eyes did not turn away.
Tarquin’s appearance was nothing she felt ashamed of being by. How she longed to speak that to him, to reassure him.
Instead, she closed her eyes, moving to show him her feelings rather than find lost words on silent voice. Lucille’s lips pressed against her own, a hand reaching up into matted, waterlogged locks, pulling him closer to her as she found herself captured in the sweet sensation of the contact between them.
How she never wanted it to end, despite knowing the moon would sink into the ocean’s horizon and take her love with it for the day, until night rose again and Lucille would be with him once more.
"I mean... yeah, it's been a few centuries, I wasn't expecting you to stay alive." -thereissomethinglostinthewater
My muse is dead. Tell me how yours is dealing with it. || Accepting
@thereissomethinglostinthewater
“How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man’s eyes!”-thereissomethinglostinthewater
Shakespeare Sentence Starters || Still Accepting
@thereissomethinglostinthewater
His exclamation came as a surprise to her as she lifted up from the notes she was producing, her strength having returned and with Tarquin’s memories steadily doing the same, the silent spirit had yearned to practice expanding her abilities, and doing so meant to make the parchments she produced into different shapes at will.
Tarquin’s lament focused on the edge of the shore, where there was a nighttime beach wedding ceremony commencing. Lucille’s lips parted as she observed the man who waited for his bride before more than two dozen people. The woman approached slowly, coming over the dunes in her white dress that billowed behind her with the wind, her calves showing through the tiul strands that swept by her bare feet. A bride for the ocean, almost, she could have been as lovely as a mermaid.
When they saw each other, Lucille’s heart ached. They were to be married on these shores.
Her icy gaze dropped to the parchment in her hands, fiddling with it some. She was quiet, but not for the lack of words that she wanted to spill. Working the parchment, she split it in half, twisting one part into petals and shaping it to keep it’s form, the other was folded over itself and smoothed out. The finished product was hidden in her hand.
Her free fingers deftly shifted to the locket that swung at her chest, plucking it open and revealing the ring he had given her more than three centuries prior. Slipping it on her hand while his attention was on the ceremony, she rose up behind him, slipping her arms around his shoulders. Her hand lifted in front of his face as she nuzzled against his cheek, the other palm producing the flower shape she had created from her own notes.
From the hand that donned the ring, a new note was produced for him to read. ‘It’s not too late to enjoy our own happiness. We can be like them, we can be married even now, and spend the rest of this eternal life together. What do you think? Wouldn’t it be an adventure?’
“Do you think we’ve met in other lives?” -thereissomethinglostinthewater
Late Nights || Still Accepting
@thereissomethinglostinthewater
Scrunching her nose a little, Lucille couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. “You’re starting to sound like those witches that say that the moon can grant wishes.” It was not exactly forbidden in their time to think of things aside from the rather strict religious ways–after all, their families had come to this land to be free from persecution–but it was frowned upon.
Then again, both she and Tarquin were as well. Both for separate reasons, but they were outcasts nevertheless.
Her laughter subsided, shifting some against him. Evening hours when she was supposed to be shut up in her section of the home, Lucille would slip out of the window by her bed and bathed in moonlight would make her way to the caravan. His master never seemed to mind, seeing how he knew they intended to marry anyway and the way they smiled when they saw each other was enough to herald some leeway.
Lucille would come and lay beside him, murmuring the words between them. It was mostly talk that they did in the bed they shared, but there were the times of something more. In this case, it was the former. His words had come from mild stirring and with the quiet of the night on them again, the girl’s smile had slipped away into remorse contemplation.
“…If we had, I wonder if it’s always been like this. Where things cannot work out how we want. Every time we are born again to try and try to have our story play out happily. Maybe this time…” Dark eyes lifted to meet his own honey dipped irises. “Do you think you could write us a happy story in your poems, if we cannot have it in this life?”
It was a worry that plagued her that she did not let out often. Every time he left, words were spread of his infidelity, despite her knowledge that it wasn’t true. Every time his left, her throat would burn after singing, and the moderate medicine they had was only temporary relief. Despite it, she never brought it up to him. He didn’t need to worry about a sore throat. “That way… If there is a life beyond this one, we can continue to keep meeting over and over again until we get it right.”
