Greeters Friends and Lovers!
Welcome to... hm... a little fun side project/reward/indulgence!
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Betwixt the Dreamers and Weavers, some little stories just... don''t appear amidst the chapters.
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Tales of fleeting passions and carefully built love that we''d adore to write but just... needed to focus on other things! But so much wumberful moments happen between time-skips and chapter jumps that we''d love to explore and use as a chance to tie our beloved characters together. Sing their little love songs as it were!
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So here a place for that! There will not really be a schedule for this. No established date of release and posting. Just a fractal of silly gerls writing out the nonsense as we feel the itch! In them will be found lore, character developments/reveals, action, and... of course, SMUT! How much of each will vary, and we''ll make sure to include Content Warnings at the top of each for things and such.
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Who knows! Right now we''re considering all the suggestions and opinions on which characters to include, but we might even subject ourselves to a poll/voting if we''re torn on where to go next! But for now it''ll all be BEG surprise as we drop these like some deranged gremlin appearing on the fourth Wednesday of the month to bonk our beloved readers on the head with smut!
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Part One - Lyttoral Pinning Arts
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CW:
Wraslin’. Good old flashbacks. Implications of suicide ideation in the past. Burnt food. Zigdara POV followed by Emarial POV. Smut.
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Two days outside Deledita (Between chapters 25 and 26 or so of SST):
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Her, a solid blaze of biting flame. Ever steady in her place in the clearing we’ve chosen, but snapping out to twist and wrap brick-solid arms and hands around her foe.
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Me, a writhing snake of endless flexibility. Thrice I press her reflexes, gets very nearly bound in the large Sun Spoken’s grip, and slip free with a twisting that would snap another’s joints.
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I still feel such a rage at her and want to see her eyes fill with the doubt she inflicted me with. Consider that perhaps she was wrong!
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Over a decade alone in a sort of… self exile, and that came after some great calamity tore the Sun Spoken apart. I was a city duenna then, only just attempting to join the Temple’s guardians. But… I’d heard the whispers.
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Great fires raged just outside the city. And many temple duenna were… removed or even imprisoned. They tried to keep the rumors well smothered but… in doing so everyone and their mothers have a dozen versions of the stories. Ranging from the absurd to the terrifying.
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Sun Spoken battling each other? Duenna turning from their duties to aid some great and horrid goal? Old magics just barely kept from rolling over quite a few towns and villages? And… And since then we’ve seen no more males born...
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That’s the point. Lyttoral Pinning Ways have countless centuries of techniques perfected for this very thing. The defeat of a foe larger than the woman performing the art.
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Even Sun Spoken magic would struggle to pull free before this limb would snap I suspect…
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Sun Spoken or not!!!
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How long has it been since she shared a dance with another, much less one that tested her abilities in an honest contest and matched her motion for motion?
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Trailing off… she''s struggling to fight down the… Is that guilt? Not aimed in my direction but at a past thing. Hmm… like she’s worried this might be something she doesn’t deserve? Despite how much she wants and maybe even needs it?
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This isn’t fear, more… desire tinted with it. Not of the act but… oh. Huh. She’s reminding me of Yetra and Jumvary. How they were convinced from their time as duenna to the mines and fields that intimacy between guardians was somehow forbidden. She may feel that this is somehow taboo or… maybe… at least something else equally as foolish.
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Us becoming close is the perfect way to ensure our shared goal is met, and an excellent way to relieve all the stress of the task. The road we plan to walk can be quite the lonely one…
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Might even really try to break my hold and then we’d fall into a bit of a tumble as she fights to claim the–
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Fine. We can move quicker!
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But… No. That could lead to her distancing herself from me in worry that I’ll slow our work. Right now I need to communicate through restraint that she can trust me to moderate my fury and focus on our long-term goals. All while finding comfort in my words and touch at the end of the day.
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Dead eyes staring back at me as I bring another drink of cool water to her lips. Her wounds have long since healed, body more perfect than it’s ever been. Heart beats strong and lungs fill with air at every deep breath.
And yet… behind those eyes I see nothing. No trace of the girl I fell in love with.
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Just like the cunt in the Dream keeps telling me. Night after night after–
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Sweet, but fowl. Like rotting honey poisoned with acid.
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After I fell from the tree it must have left me for dead to chase my beloved. Only seemed to pull from her broken body after it saw the flames the woman from the Dream gave me. I only barely survived its second attack on my flesh but… it burned quick enough. Screaming and weeping as my furious strikes melted it to slag.
But… I was too late. My lover was already dead.
And even when I dumped every ounce of soulfire I had into her corpse, pleading and screaming for my love to come back to me… only her body stirred. Eyes glazed and distant. Moving to follow my most basic instructions and nothing more.
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Whatever will or spirit she had just… gone. Stolen and torn from her by this monster like–
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Can’t… Can’t let her see me like this. Not now. Not after… after I already…
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A call sounds as the smoke wafts over my back. I turn to find an older woman, wrapped in traveling leathers and a few strange chitinous bits on her arms, standing at the head of the dock my lover and I had found and built our home next to.
The old Sun Spoken was looking at the long rotting pile of black burnt nightmare I slaughtered and left beneath the old tree. Her glimmering green eyes roll to mine, and a smile she had dies on her lips as she sees the raft at my side. My lover wrapped and adorned with flowers, her favorite books and dolls, ready to be sent down the river.
And… the second empty craft beside her.
Waiting for me to join her when I gather the courage.
“Ah, girl…” My future mentor murmurs so soft it''s a miracle I caught the words. “She wouldn’t want that.”
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something. Worry? Concern? A sense that her traveling Sun Spoken is just… the last of a wretched brood unable to–
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