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coffee & film proudly presents: dark fairytales!! with special guest margot aka THE @hauntedwoman 🏰✨📖
as always, the podcast is available on my youtube channel alongside spotify—i had such a joy working on this with such a dear friend & i'm excited for y'all to hear the crazy stories she has shared. ♡
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FFXIVWrite 2025 Prompt 7: Wildflower (Free Day)
Two years ago… in Shirogane
On the sill stood a glass jar, and in it, a flower she did not know. Nabi paused, for she knew every stem and leaf she had gathered into their dwelling, and this one was new. It must be Anchor’s doing.
It was not the first time. She hoped it would not be the last. He never spoke of it, never asked if she noticed. The flowers simply arrived, sudden as birds alighting.
It was not a root to be steeped, nor a leaf for healing. When she gathered herbs, it was with a purpose: to cure, to flavor, to mend. But the blooms Anchor chose carried no use she could name. They were only themselves: wild things, brought into the house. She never thought to press them or grind them, never sought their secrets. She let them drink the light and open as they would. Their purpose, if they had one, was plain enough: to brighten the room, and to speak—without words—of the care with which he had chosen them.
Each morning she poured away the clouded water and gave the jar a new measure, turning it so the sun would strike the petals differently. It was a small tending, her own gift in return.
Anchor said nothing of it, nor did she ever see him glance toward the sill once the flower was set there. Yet Nabi placed the jar always by the window at the foot of the loft, where the sun began and ended. So that the bloom, mute and steadfast, would greet him at his rising, and bid him farewell when he went out to his labor.
Sometimes she wondered if he meant it as an offering for her, or if it was simply his way of marking a discovery: each flower a reminder of something new he had found appreciation in. But even then, she felt there was more to it. Anchor gave sparingly of himself in words, but perhaps these wild blooms were his truest speech—simple, unadorned, needing no explanation.
And in their quiet way, Nabi understood their very nature. They need not be medicinal to lend healing; it gave a blaze of color against the darker hue of the wooden walls, a living thing that asked nothing but to be seen. She knew not all gifts are meant to mend. Some are meant simply to be shared, to remind one heart of another.
Still, when she looked at the flower, she sometimes felt the faintest ache of a question—whether Anchor placed it there for her, or if he himself had gained some appreciation of it, or for something neither of them could name. And perhaps that was the truest gift of all: not knowing, but tending to it anyway.
FFXIVWrite 2025 you say?
Prompt 4: Honor
The store looked like nothing. A mixture of wood and clay slapped together by someone who wanted their work done quick and cheap. Arasen almost passed it twice before he realized it wasn’t an abandoned shed. But the smell—old paper, spiced dust, oil rubbed into worn leather—told Arasen there was something inside worth a look. He squared his shoulders, tugged at the layers of Radz-at-Han garb that clung to him like borrowed skin.
Ghoa had told him to blend in with the locals. By wrapping himself in silk. The very lightness of it felt foreign to his scales.
He may not be noticed for the way of his dress but perhaps the discomfort he found in it. It felt like hiding behind a curtain stitched by someone else. He should be used to it—he’d lived over half his life keeping things hidden. But he wasn’t hiding anymore. Or so he told himself. This was supposed to be the new path. Honor. Redemption. For Batu. For Ghoa. For Nabi. For every name on the damned long list that he carried like a ledger in his chest.
He pushed through the door.
The inside of the store had a distinct different aura than the outside. The walls were sturdier than it looked, Arasen was sure this place had been here for more years than he initially gave it credit for. It was definitely promising.
The keeper sat behind the counter, a boulder of a man hunched over a ledger. His face was a scowl carved from granite. Not the sort of man who smiled much. Probably not the sort of man who had reason to.
Arasen tried the easy route first. A smile, light words. “You keep an impressive collection. The kind of place a scholar could get lost for suns.”
The man snorted without looking up.
He leaned closer, dropped his voice into conspiratorial tones. “There are people out there who’d pay a small fortune for what you’ve got in here.”
The ledger snapped shut. “Then send them here. Don’t waste my time.”
One last try, earnest this time, his voice stripped of performance. “Please. I’ve spent years chasing fragments of the truth, chasing scraps. I know what I’m looking for, and I’ll know it when I see it.”
The old man’s eyes rose, cold and hard. “You’re not from here. You’ve got nothing I want. Out.”
Dismissed, just like that. As though he were a child begging sweets. The words stung worse than the man’s tone. Arasen straightened, biting back the retort burning in his throat. He turned to leave, the weight of futility pressing between his shoulders.
His hand slipped into his pocket. His fingers brushed the pouch. The jewelry with a sharpened point. Cold metal that was stained with memory–blood inked ruins drawn upon flesh. A tool he never intended to use again. Not since the sacred atrium in the ruins. Not since Ghoa. And yet—what choice did he have?
He breathed out, slow. Turned back to the counter. A smile cracked across his lips, wide, white, and utterly false.
“Why, I might just have something that would interest you,” he said, voice warm as honey, thick as poison. He slipped the pouch free, the faint clink of metal filling the silence between them. “I had forgotten about it, but it comes from across the seas. Passed down through generations of prophets.”
His finger slipped on the ring.
And all at once, he remembered what it felt like to lie.
C&F: Corruption Arc
Featuring: @sea-and-storm [Ghoa Mankhad], @shaelstormchild [Shael Stormchild], @anchor-management [Anchor Saltborn] and [Brick], @afreesworn [Nabi Kharlu] and [Roen Deneith], @sentryandco [Egil Nylor] and [Estrid Nylor] + ∞ NPCs, @tribblesfuriousart [Buoy Saltborn] [Diya-something-or-other], @banquoviaquo [Gideon North], [Orfeuille], [Luri Kai].
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Inspiration
The guards were now twice in number as when Brick and Shael had scouted the place. She wasn’t sure if either of them had been made or if it was Roen’s late visit that triggered the sudden need for increase in security, but no matter the reason, getting to Nabi had now become a much more difficult task.
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FFXIV Write 2022 Prompt #15: Row
Cheaters never win, the old adage echoed within Ghoa’s mind.. along with a faint, stinging throb. Too bad the saying hadn’t occurred to her before the unfortunate string of events that had transpired all within the last two or three minutes. Not that she would have listened to it anyway, probably..
A race had been proposed, from the end of the docks at Costa del Sol to a rock upon the nearby sandbar. Of course, the intention of the proposal had been for the racers – Anchor, Shael, Nabi and herself – to take the route across the sand and then swim across in the final leg. But such specifics were never stated and, knowing full well how horrid of a chance she stood in any contest of physical prowess, that clever mind of hers had begun thinking of a way to exploit the loopholes.
Her strategy? As the others raced down the roundabout path across the beach, she would head in the opposite direction back across the dock to the closest jumping point between here and the finish line. It shortened the run and swim both, not that she was overly concerned about the latter. If there was one physical task that Ghoa could claim some skill at, it was swimming.
The run was still plenty long for her.. less than hardy endurance. But so, too, did she have an idea for that.
"You know? I'm feeling so confident that I think I might even give you lot a head start," she hummed as she hung back. "I can start from right here."
L O O K B O O K #489
Hair: Lamb - Wolf (@Collabor88) Top: C&F - Turtleneck sweater(BOM and mesh parts) Jacket: b.b.s - Today’s Basic Co-ords jacket (Unisex!) Skirt: BOYS TO THE BONE - Oxe set skirt Tights: Nylon Outfitters - Black tights 50% Boots: TwoSided - Heeled boots Necklace: Yummy - Laura necklace Rings: FAKEICON - Asdar ring set Nails: FAKEICON - Manil nails Earrings: Stories&Co - Signature hoop Ear hoops: SEVEN - Hoop ear candy Glasses: LENS - Style 26 Bag: DDL - Ironic Septum: DE - Basic septum Background: MINIMAL - Ancien Elevator Backdrop Poses: Overlow - Various poses
Shooting location: my house(no slurl)
