#moonjune

1. Eclipse

2. Nocturne

3. Silver

4. Shadow

5. Whisper

6. Dream

7. Veil

8. Mystery

9. Glow

10. Abyss

11. Starlight

12. Tide

13. Phantom

14. Midnight

15. Reflection

16. Enchant

17. Dusk

18. Ether

19. Obsidian

20. Lullaby

21. Crescent

22. Silence

23. Mirage

24. Velvet

25. Halo

26. Forgotten

27. Ritual

28. Solitude

29. Luminary

30. Eternal

Your thirty prompts for Moon-June! 🌑Here is the Ao3 collection as well.

Gwen, Merlin, and Arthur (Trade Poison For Sunlight)

“You will make an excellent queen, you do know that, right?” Arthur asks, and there is something tender in his eyes. Some sort of awe.

And something in her wants to protest. She was the one to introduce the rust. She was the one who mixed in too much iron and upset the delicate balance of nature and magic and steel.

But there is also something in her that thinks—

A spine of steel cannot be too bad a thing. 

If Merlin is sunshine, if Gwen is the fire of the forge, if Arthur is the steel between them—

There is something here, brighter than gold, stronger than steel, more enduring than iron. Something that will not rust.

And they have to do what they can to make sure that they can actually get to that sunlight. To that gold.

To get rid of the sorrow staining Merlin’s shoulder, the poison that is spilling through his veins, a sludge that will destroy him.

Gwen needs to be able to see Merlin’s smile again. Needs to watch it light up the world.

And Arthur needs that as well.

-aletterinthenameofsanity, the sunlight trapped inside the wood (through the squall the course stays true)

Noc-turn was the street you took when the air around you got heavy, your limbs dragged and a hole opened in your chest. Most humans didn’t know about it until it decided they were supposed to know. It was how they kept this place secret. 

Maugry knew about it. But she wasn’t human. She was put together by the crows. Maugry was part of different wholes, ones that didn’t necessarily fit together. Her left arm was heavier than her right, one leg slightly longer than the other, and her face was a sight out of Frankenstein itself. 

Noc-turn was where she spent most of her time. Her world was distorted anyway, two different eyes from two different people, which made it hard to focus on one thing at a time. The street never looked the same. Sometimes it was cobblestone, sometimes brick or cement. Sometimes it was a dirt road in the forest. The hue between dusk and night caught the seams of liminal space, keeping Noc-turn in an eternal blue-hour state. It was just dark enough that when Maugry walked down the street, littered with carcases of birds, the signs that hung from the doors blurred together. 

She inhaled. Maugry didn’t mean to stumble down the dim ally; she never does. The stumbling steps, the fearful eyes with the accusatory word monster splashed across their pupils, the weight of her own immortality — it dragged her away. The pungent smell of rot filled her nose and she was drawn to it. 

There were always dead birds in Noc-turn. 

The air was too thick for them to fly. It was a place where gravity reached its clawed hands from the ground and wrapped them around your throat to choke out whatever air was left in your lungs. Once you were down, suffocating on your own grief, the shadows would come out of their hiding spaces and enter through your pores, sucking the light from within and leaving only a bone-dry carcass in its wake. 

Birds were too free for this place, and too fragile to make it to the other end. Humans, however, were frequent visitors. They were stronger than the birds. They would inevitably shake themselves free and run as quickly as they could towards the dying sun, some so frail from staying in the Noc-turn they couldn’t do much more than crawl. 

Maugry tried to help those she could. Because of the distorted light, humans didn’t regard her in such a disgusted manner. She could grasp them under the arms and hoist them from the shadows grip, set their gaze forward and push. Few ever looked back, some stumbled and fell down again. Maugry has carried a few herself before, far enough that the shadows disperse and the light on the other side burns red welts in her skin, but brings out an angelic glow in humans.

She couldn’t save all of them, though. There were so many people in the Noc-turn all the time. Although Maugry wasn’t the only one lifting them to their feet. 

Cats roamed the street of Noc-turn, silent creatures whose eyes glowed green and yellow and blue. They had a magic of their own, and would use it to guide people out of the space. 

This was Maugry’s purpose. This was why she lived as an undead. The shadows had already eaten her, taken her inner light in her lives before. She was but her own shadow, a memory only she carried. 

“I hear… singing,” the woman in the yellow dress mumbled distractedly. Maugry gripped her with unfaultering hands. 

“Yes, my dear. Go towards it,” she replied to the ghost-faced woman, using all her minimal strength to keep her from falling back down. The echo of Maugry’s voice sounded like the creatures who put her together. It was hoarse, she croaked out the words as if she was merely mimicking. It reminded her of the birds.

“Who is that? Who is singing?” the woman asked, her own warm, fleshy hands jumping to grasp Maugry’s. 

“That is your hope.” She watched as the woman’s legs firmed up beneath her, and Maugry slowly let go, watching as she dragged herself towards the sound only she could hear. 

This was a place of silence. Any words that were spoken were eaten by the thick atmosphere unless you were inches away from the person. The suffering that happened here was not loud. It was the type you accidentally stumble into on a friday night at the bar when you realize no one's listening to you and your friends are busy having lives of their own.

It took a while for people to notice your absence. 

And when they do, it's usually too late. 

Judge my words, if you may, my fair reader; I only ask for you to remember our names, and our stories. We only wish to be free. I am Elysia, the Sorceress, and before dying, please let me tell you the story of my adored Knight, Eryndor, and how his brothers Loriam and Eamon became the Guardians of our secrets. [or; how the Guardian Force Brothers came to be]

Characters: Rinoa Heartilly, Squall Leonhart, Selphie Tilmitt, Irvine Kinneas, Odine, Laguna Loire, Fury Caraway, Original Characters, Sacred & Minotaur Pairings: Rinoa Heartilly/Squall Leonhart, Selphie Tilmitt/Irvine Kinneas Written for: Lore Card @ @ffviiibingo Lore Card, for the prompts: You are quite the powerful one to have defeated the two brothers. Types of Love @ @seasonaldelightsbingo, for the prompts: It's always been you and I, it won't change anytime soon either; Cuddling together; Even at the end, their love was stronger than the day that they first met. Moon June @monthlywritingchallenges, for the prompts: whisper, dream, midnight, and enchant. Additional tags: Post-Canon, Sorceress lore, Ancient Lore, Established Relationship, Guardian Forces | GFs (Final Fantasy VIII), Forbidden Love, Canon Compliant Legends & Myth Chapter: 3/11, Dreamscape

(ao3 link)

Chapters: 1/1, 726 words Fandom: Star Trek: Enterprise (TV), Star Trek Rating: G Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Monica/Karveth Characters: Original Human Character(s)Original Andorian Character(s)Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Family Fluff, Lullabies, Singing, Late at Night, Andorian Culture (Star Trek), pale blue baby, charlie mckee aka sh'arli of avrothri, Parenthood, is there such a thing as too sweet? asking for a friend Summary: Andorian lullabies (and Karveth) are full of surprises.

Day 5: Whisper

Tags: @monthlywritingchallenges @randomwriter23

Pairing: Eric Forman x Buddy Morgan

Machine Mass Sextet - Intrusion - jazz fusion band follows up their Hendrix tribute album with a set of originals & covers of Coltrane & Zawinul

MACHINE MASS started out in 2011 as an idiosyncratic MoonJune power duo made of longtime collaborators American drummer Tony BIANCO (Elton Dean, Paul Dunmall, Evan Parker) and Belgian guitarist Michel DELVILLE (The Wrong Object, Vegir). Hailed as a « feisty and rebel rousing exhibition that contains a surfeit of diametric contrasts and smoldering exchange » (All About Jazz), it has since then morphed into various forms and ventures involving guests such as Dave LIEBMAN (Inti, 2014) and Univers Zero and Wrong Object keyboardist Antoine GUENET (Machine Mass Plays Hendrix ; 2017).

Intrusion, Machine Mass’s fourth official album in a decade of existence, is a full-blown sextet extravaganza comprising eight live-in-the-studio tracks (six originals and two covers) featuring Wrong Object bassist Damien CAMPION alongside two seminal members of the Belgian and international jazz scene: Laurent BLONDIAU (Mâäk's Spirit, Andy Emler MegaOctet, Octurn) and Manuel HERMIA (Slang, Orchestra Nazionale della Luna, Hermia-Ceccaldi-Darrifourcq Trio).