#original fic
Two identical infants lay in the cradle. “One you bore, the other is a Changeling. Choose wisely,” the Fae’s voice echoed from the shadows. “I’m taking both my children,” the mother said defiantly.
Once upon a time there was a peasant woman who was unhappy because she had no children. She was happy in all other things – her husband was kind and loving, and they owned their farm and had food and money enough. But she longed for children.
She went to church and prayed for a child every Sunday, but no child came. She went to every midwife and wise woman for miles around, and followed all their advice, but no child came.
So at last, though she knew of the dangers, she drew her brown woolen shawl over her head and on Midsummer’s Eve she went out to the forest, to a certain clearing, and dropped a copper penny and a lock of her hair into the old well there, and she wished for a child.
“You know,” a voice said behind her, a low and cunning voice, a voice that had a coax and a wheedle and a sly laugh all mixed up in it together, “that there will be a price to pay later.”
She did not turn to look at the creature. She knew better. “I know it,” she said, still staring into the well. “And I also know that I may set conditions.”
“That is true,” the creature said, after a moment, and there was less laugh in its voice now. It wasn’t pleased that she knew that. “What condition do you set? A boy child? A lucky one?”
“That the child will come to no harm,” she said, lifting her head to stare into the woods. “Whether I succeed in paying your price, or passing your test, or not, the child will not suffer. It will not die, or be hurt, or cursed with ill luck or any other thing. No harm of any kind.”
“Ahhhhh.” The sound was long and low, between a sigh and a hum. “Yes. That is a fair condition. Whatever price there is, whatever test there is, it will be for you and you alone.” A long, slender hand extended into her sight, almost human save for the skin, as pale a green as a new leaf. The hand held a pear, ripe and sweet, though the pears were nowhere ripe yet. “Eat this,” the voice said, and she trembled with the effort of keeping her eyes straight ahead. “All of it, on your way home. Before you enter your own gate, plant the core of it beside the gate, where the ground is soft and rich. You will have what you ask for.”
“Fathoms Untold”
by TS PorterPearl Gleam the Huntress led her pod on their yearly migration. She was one of the largest of the Sea Peoples, and where most decorated themselves with bright shells and pearls, she wore strange armor fashioned from the carapaces of giant abyssal crabs. She was as long as an oarfish, faster than a mako shark, and her notched fins and the many scars on her arms and down the length of her tail proved her prowess as a warrior. Her pod trusted her to protect them, and protect them she did on their long journey, more often breaking the current at the head of the pod than swimming in any easier position.
They threaded through island chains, crossed vast empty waters marked only by the stars and currents, and came to the coastline of their feeding grounds. It was different from their warm breeding territory with its placid jewel-water lagoons, but those deep cold currents, where the ocean’s upwell beat against the dry-land barrier, produced the fattest fish. Her pod was strong even without her, and when they were safe and established, Pearl Gleam left them to swim out into the ocean alone. Even in youth, Pearl Gleam had been driven to exploration. Age and experience had only sharpened that curiosity to a blade as deadly as the obsidian that tipped her spear.
I just got a new microfic published, and you can read it for free! If you’re in the mood for a little weird femslash monster porn, click the link above!
<3
TS
The Fest starts tomorrow! We’re so glad (and also a little anxious) to see you all excited and ready, with all your cool projects we can’t wait to read more about!
Here are some of the important links and information you might find useful during the Fest.
!!IMPORTANT REMINDERS!!
- We’ll only reblog ONE post by person for each prompt. If you have a lot to say and want to spread the information over several posts, please add the links to a central one! Thank you for your understanding!
- If you think we missed one of your posts, please message us or send us an ask with the link to the post you’re querying
Schedule:
The daily prompt posts will go up at around 8am UTC each morning.25th May: CHARACTER DAY
26th May: ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP DAY
27th May: NON-ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP DAY
28th May: QUOTE DAY
29th May: MUSIC DAY
30th May: PICTURES DAY
31th May: FREE DAY
LINKS
Promo post: https://originalficfest.tumblr.com/post/173986180530/do-you-have-an-original-story-or-several-do-youFAQ: https://originalficfest.tumblr.com/faq
Rules: https://originalficfest.tumblr.com/post/174074377245/original-fic-fest-rules
Content advisory:
https://originalficfest.tumblr.com/post/174108227050/content-advisory-for-postsyou can also check the #mod posttag
Survey link: https://goo.gl/forms/dVHshYo5J8Vfl5f93
And the most important ones: HAVE FUN AND NEVER STOP CREATING!!
Wip Wednesday - thanks for the tag, @forestcreatures <3 <3 <3 I’ve been writing, a lot of different things haha. I am forever a romantic, though.
–
Andrea runs her fingertips over the swell of Raphael’s shoulder and settles her palm against his collarbone, her thumb against his neck, against the faint pulse.
He’s warm; she feels the heat sink into her hands, feeling prickling back into her fingers. He’s - different than she thought he’d be. Gentler. Or maybe just-
Raphael’s swallows and she tracks the movement of his throat, the rise of his chest around his inhale. He has a mole beneath his left eye, just close enough to flutter into shadow when he blinks. When he looks down, unbuttoning his cuff and rolling back his sleeve, she feels the flex of the movement jumping under her hand.
When Raphael catches her wrist and pulls it gently away, his hands are warm, too.
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I’ve been offline a while, so tagging anyone who wants to do this <3
