Title: as you are Pairing: CastielxMegxRuby Rating: General Wordcount: 2,381 Notes: I cannot find the original tumblr post but this is a complete rip-off of the suggestion that asexuals are immune to sirens and the subsequent rebuke that maybe sirens lure asexuals with songs about food because it’s just about what your heart desires most right, so ya, Ace Cas and Sirens Meg and Ruby Square: Mermaids/Selkies Aus (or sirens? Sirens are good too right… aquatic monster au?)
They could feel it in the depths long before it came, disturbing the tides as it steered through the waters. They could feel the slap of oars rippling through the waters and it called them to the surface. Several staid below, to lay in wait, and several breached the churning frothy water that beat around the dangerous rocks of the small island’s eastward cliffs. The scattering of clouds moving across the sky overhead provided erratic shade, but even a little sun was harsh to delicate pale skin.
Tossing matted braids over her shoulder, Meg heaved herself up onto one of the coarse jagged rocks, minding the delicate webbing between her fingers, wrapping her powerful scaled tail around it to lift up onto a perch where she could sprawl, breasts bared to the wind as she turned towards the approaching dot on the horizon.
Men were coming in their long wooden vessels that skimmed over waters they had no business invading.
The sirens next meal was coming.
On the rocks around her, Abaddon and Ruby and Lilith spread themselves like offerings to tempt the sailors. As one voice, their lullaby rose to drift across the winds and pull the men closer by the strings of their hearts.
Meg had been human once, although it was distant now, as if seen through the distortions of thick sea glass. But she remembered some things, she knew what the men heard in their voices. Their siren’s songs were only gentle suggestions, promises that they offered to pluck at what was desired most. Meg knew what men desired of her.
Sirens were born of violent death and the immortality of spite, after all.
As the vessel approached, their voices swelled and grew frenzied, tails beating the white-capped waves crashing against the rocks, hands lifted to reach out to the men and beg them closer.
darwin may have been quite correct in his theory that man descended from the apes of the forest, but surely woman rose from the frothy sea, as resplendent as aphrodite on her scalloped chariot. margot datz.
•tiny plants growing in cracks of pavement
•napping with friends
•stumbling willowy fawns
•paint stained hands
•late nights walking near a violent ocean
•rereading a favorite book
•walking a busy street alone
•long hot baths
•cooking for friends
•laying down in a freshly washed and made bed
•eating raspberries off of fingertips
•the air after it rains
•when you make apple cider and the smell fills the house
•going in the forest at 2 am
•using a face mask
•late night trips to the store
•feeling drunk on laughter
•fresh baked bread
•chipping nail polish off of the nails
•that swelling feeling in your chest when you feel loved
•collaging magazine pictures
•clear blue lakes
•the dreamy summer heat
•melting cotton candy on your tongue
•listening to the perfect song with good headphones in
•dancing in the kitchen
•bundling and drying herbs
•sneaking off during a party to talk and kiss
•listening to friends sing and play music
•seeing a whale breach
•dueting on the piano
•writing on stationary
•walking along the pier
•sweet juicy nectarines
•san francisco houses
•quiet bus rides
•sitting on the front porch in the evening
•high waisted jeans
•wearing nice lingerie
•canyons and cliffs
•cramming a bunch of relatives in one house
•getting homework finished early
•favorite belt my friend bought in austria
•petting horse’s foreheads
•riding my bike through town
Yellow Diamonds -- When Lord
Willoughby dies quite suddenly of a fever, the estate is set into an uproar. His only two sons, Arthur and Fredrick (Fishburne and Boseman), had a falling out with the family ten years ago and have not been home since. Rumors have swirled since they day they left – of the great tragedy that caused the family to scatter to the winds, of fathers betrayed and sons disowned – but no one has ever been able to confirm the truth of it all.
Now both of the prodigal sons must return home – each having made something of themselves, each having married, each having reason to think their claim on the estate is stronger than the other. Their first meeting ends most unfortunately with raised voices and ugly recriminations.
Now their wives – Isobella (Torres), a naturalist who would rather spend time with her flowers and bees than at balls, and Beatrice (Beharie), the daughter of a Carribean governor whose fiery pen is well-known, even in these country hills – must forge a friendship and find a way to bring their newfound family together, to bring old secrets to light, and to put old jealousies to rest.
“Darwin may have been quite correct in his theory that man descended from the apes of the forest, but surely woman rose from the frothy sea, as resplendent as Aphrodite on her scalloped chariot.”
A Moodboard for Mermaids