#devourer of souls wip

[bluberimufim]

GUYS HOLY SHIT I JUST FINISHED MY FIRST DRAFT!!!!!!!!!!

taglist: @little-mouse-gardens , @wildswrites , @cheeto-flavoured-pasta , @fleurtygurl and @joswriting

#i did not expect to finish my 1st draft sitting on the floor of some random building's atrium #but here tf we are #i'm still not ok. hold on. #i'm SCREAMING #THEO WHYYYYY #i still have to put it into the word doc bc i wrote it on paper and i'll update you on the final stats later #nope wait still screaming #OH MY GOD I CANT BELIEVE I FINISHED IT #Seth has existed in my brain for 10 years and she FINALLY got the story she deserves #writeblr #writing #reblog #my wips #devourer of souls wip #finished the 1st draft!!!!! hell yeah!!!!

[honeyglas]

Lesbians save me… save me lesbians

#my art #original characters #digital art #Wip #I have so much thoughts about these two. #guys is it gay to save your friend by cleaving their soul in half after they’ve been killed and devoured by their lover #and then you track down their remains to revive them #using godly flesh and their bones. and you cradle them close #while said lover is still hunting you down #oc:Oscen #oc:Noctua #breathless verse #At the edge of God’s tomb

[sesshy380]

Wordcount for the day: 2400-ish

This wraps up the first half of the important chapter, which will be broken down into two chapters. The super, super important part I'll be writing (hopefully) tomorrow. It will set up the biggest part of the end plot for my AU.

I so badly want to shout spoilers at the top of my lungs. I so badly wish I could just dump a shit ton of random info about my AU, but there's always that little part of my brain that goes 'Shhh...don't. People will find you weird and annoying.'

#writing update #another chapter WiP finished! #this was the one with the 'mythical creatures sanctuary' #so far there's been a capricorn #a kelpie #a cockatrice #and then a creature that i call a 'fae-weasel' based on a Pinterest image that i absolutely love #every time i look at it all i can think is 'it looks like it wants to devour my soul...i wanna pet it' #i am going to be extremely disappointed if i don't meet my end trying to pet a soul devouring fae-weasel

[thespacelizard]

🌹

i could not restrain myself to a single sentence because i have cannot shut the fuck up disorder, but here's a bit from an old Jartemis wip i fully intend to actually finish this year:

“When it comes to things that Artemis wants, things that powerful Entreri desires…” Jarlaxle’s mouth replaced one thumb, wet, soft, dragging a stripe all the way to Artemis’ collarbone. “Those things he does not think about. He does not want, he simply acts. You did not want to come to Calimport – you simply did. You did not want to start a guild war – you simply have.”

“I want to toss you in the deepest pit I can find,” Artemis managed. His tongue felt fuzzy, as if it had reached the hangover part while the rest of him remained thoroughly intoxicated.

“I can return home whenever I wish,” Jarlaxle grinned at him. “Can you?”

#this is the vaguely dubcon silent blade era fic that i actually really like #i want to get through my wip folder more this year but the problem. the PROBLEM #is that it's very big and i am very easily distracted #and also obedience devoured my soul so #fic blogging

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 6

summary ;; This is the reality of Jake Sully: the father and Olo'eyktan of the People cannot coexist, Eywa teaches her lessons in the toughest ways. PART 5 | NEXT (wip) pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; well this took a hot minute. am back on my bs WARNING for violence and t0rture, reader discretion is advised. Please excuse my mistakes if you see any!

Jake moved on pure primitive instinct, unbridled arctic rage honing all his senses into one laser point of focus. It wasn’t survival, and it surely wasn’t prey running from predator, there was nothing noble about what he was trying to achieve. 

That avatar was going to die today, and Jake was going to make it hurt. No fair game. No warrior’s death. No respect. 

Devoid of the shape of humanity or the ties that bound him to it, he was the embodiment of a creature’s killer intent, body taking over and consciousness disappearing to the backseat as he catapulted his tomahawk at the avatar, taking advantage of the miniscule opening provided by a magazine change needed after emptying all of his bullets to a Jake luring him into wasting his resources away. 

The dull squelch of the hand-carved ax’s head plunging into flesh couldn’t be dampened by the avatar’s choked and short shout, and Jake was jumping out of cover in no time, a bull to red, advancing towards the man, footsteps not hidden out of having no concern for it at all, let him panic or try to struggle for all Jake cared. 

Opposite of what he expected, the rifle wasn’t picked up or fumbled to aim at him. The avatar, pale in the face and pupils having devoured the yellow, fear trumping the pain of his arm almost sliced off from shoulder, crawled away on his back from Jake in full speed, getting up before Jake could reach him, and started staggering into the forest, dropping the tomahawk in the process. 

Jake stopped in his tracks for a moment and picked his weapon up, the dark liquid glistening purple in the light of the Tree of Souls, droplets of blood making the moss light up as they hit the ground. His chest heaved in controlled, loud breaths, mouth pulled back in a snarl, watching the pathetic son of a bitch trying to get away. 

He was one of the lot who’d shot you, hurt you, tortured you — simply to get a reaction out of Jake. 

He was the one who pulled Jake away before he could fix his mistakes, undo the damage they had done, and get you back. 

Jake was so close. So close. 

You were there. You were right there. He could still feel you in his arms, his shoulder imprinted with your tears, shiest of smiles at a better future he could build with you from the burnt soil of your relationship. 

If it hadn’t been for him… 

That man was your murderer. 

He deserved the hell of a father’s making.

This avatar was a marine — and the fucking idiot was running into the oblivion blind worse than a normal civilian would in this situation, had all those years of training evaporated in one second? Jake’s steps were determined, yet lax following after the guy, nose picking up the trail of blood left behind, eyes watching the red splatters. This was all Hansel and Gretel for him, playing follow the breadcrumbs.

The sound of thumping, frantic running, bumping into obstacles, crashing into flora, all was distinguishable from the natural song of the forest Jake had gotten so familiar with in these fifteen years. No response came from the avatar, but Jake wasn’t hurrying. He would have him. Let the bastard tire himself out first — but he wouldn’t let him die. No. He could smell the fear, the blood, anger at bay, all ice, knowing the trees would carry all the sounds he needed to Jake. He could hear exactly where the avatar was. and If he was hoping he’d bleed himself out faster than Jake could reach him to save himself from what was going to happen, well… 

He’d better start praying for mercy to whatever deity held his worthless faith, because Jake had none of it. They had no mercy for you, his sinless, innocent child, all but wails and yelps and blood, and apologies for it. 

Every time Jake thought of you in that tremendous pain to the brink of delirium, he burned in his heart’s ice until he was black and purple all over. Your smile was so real, your embrace was tiny and warm in his arms and he had a chance, the only chance no parent could ever get in this life. Jake had dissolved together with that mirage.   

The part of him engulfed in flames wanted to end this quickly and painfully—to burn it all, break that man in, scream his lungs out, the other part of him, frozen fury that scalded over in the loss of you, wanted to draw it out, wanted to inflict never-ending pain, to bring the avatar back from the brink of death over and over again just to repeat it in a cycle. 

His child. His baby. 

The ties that held Jake together were getting pulled tight, the pressure building like deep water currents, thinner threads snapping and crackling, body being pulled to all five directions from all five limbs. Awareness went out and barged its way back in hot flashes, he couldn’t comprehend the passing of time and how long he let your murderer catch the delusion of shaking Jake off his tail — but, his instincts knew to reveal himself before the avatar could be claimed by blood loss. 

Dangling hope right in front of his face just to snatch it away wasn’t enough. It could never be enough compared to you who had dragged your own corpse back home, muted to your own pain cocooned between those who should have meant nothing but home and safety to you. Torture. You had lived torture in your last hours with help just one step, one word away. 

Nothing would ever be enough.  

Jake emerged from the thick flora like the grim reaper himself who would always be waiting right at the spot of the reaping wherever the soul ran away to, detached and unimpressed, blank face not reflecting the scorched soul inside. The almost passed out avatar jolted awake when he smelled the smoke from Jake’s shadow falling on him, and could only press his back further to the body of the cluster of big rocks he had taken shelter against as if somehow becoming one with it could shield him away from Jake’s wrath.  

The man’s breathing was getting louder and shakier the more Jake stood there motionless. “C’mon then,” he said between clenched teeth, spasming hand dropping from his mutilated shoulder, squaring up the last drops of his courage. “Get on with it.”

Jake’s whitened fingers were making noise against the handle of his tomahawk, but his voice was hauntingly hollow, unfeeling now that he had the man right in his palm. “Thought I should let you live what you did to my daughter first.”

The avatar began to scream. “Fuck you, man, we didn’t do none of this shit to that kid—”

Jake’s tone didn’t change, but it cut worse than a knife. “You killed my kid.”

His eyes widened, breath hitching, the reality of what was coming to him finally sinking in and Jake witnessed every panicked second of it. “Fuck…” His gaze wildly alternated between Jake and the tomahawk, raising his better, trembling hand up for feeble defense. “Look, look, listen, we didn’t kill her, alright? We patched her up, okay, she was going to be a prisoner, what happened happened because you engaged in battle, we wouldn’t do that to a—AGH!”

He was interrupted by Jake sharply shoving the head of the tomahawk into his injury, just putting it in there, not moving it further down. “Do you have children, marine?”

The man palmed at the weapon, fingernails digging into the wood, but no matter how much he pushed, it didn’t budge one bit. “Stop, stop! Fuck—”

Jake repeated again, firmer. “I asked you a question, do you have children?”

“No!— No, god, argh!” 

He spaced out for a while, watching him squirm and trash to get away with defeated, half-assed attempts, also unable to because of how much of an immovable object Jake was making the weapon buried in the open wound be. It would hit the bone if he used more strength. 

With a fixed, stony stare, Jake removed the tomahawk, waiting for the man’s deplorable whimpers to recede before breaking him the news like reading it off a doctor’s report. “You won’t get to have any.”

He didn’t look like he cared about something like that, but the man knew his fate insinuated by the words. Nevertheless,it didn’t mean he could be free from the survivor’s instinct’s mood swings his body was putting him through. Denial to bargaining within minutes. “Just kill me already, you deserter piece of—”

“Oh, no, no no,” Jake reassured, the only flicker of emotion he had shown since he’d cornered the avatar. “You won’t get to die for a long time, either.” 

The avatar grunted, head falling down before he started to shake it. “Please just let it end—man, just let it end, I’m sorry, okay, please!” A whole body-trembling begging shifted to anger the more Jake remained non-responsive. Watching. Just watching. The hole in his chest getting wider the more he fed this man’s suffering to it — it wasn’t enough. “Just fucking do it! Pussy ass bitch! Come on you blue motherfucker, kill me! Kill m—”

“Are you the one who shot my daughter?” 

“What?”

“Are you. The one. Who shot my daughter?”

The avatar’s face twisted. “It wasn’t me—it wasn’t—asshole, you already killed the guy, I didn’t fucking do anything!—”

“You... didn’t do anything?”

A beat. The forest fell silent in Jake’s ears. Just like how the noises you made had abruptly died down as he was putting pressure on your wound.

And like that, the thick haze that had Jake desensitized blew over, unadulterated anger rushed to his body, acidic and nauseating, soul stitching back to his limbs by a million needles and he began to shake, face contorting, teeth showing itself, the hiss that lacerated his throat was the most terrifying one of his life yet, it didn’t sound like it belonged to a sentient being, twisted by a grieving, demented animalistic horror. The avatar’s breath hitched, whatever protest and voice he had escaping deep inside his body, ears pinned back to his head. 

“Of course,” Jake glowered, swallowing the scorching stones blocking his throat. He closed his burning eyes, and was greeted by the image of you, opening them back again, and shaking the ax as if it was an accusing finger. 

And without a word of warning, his hand shot down and grabbed the avatar from the neck of his tactical vest, hurling him over the chest-level array of big rocks forming a pointy bed above, ignoring the cries of pain as the abused, torn open flesh of the wound dragged through the sharp teeth of the gravel, dousing them in blood. “Please, please, stop!—I’m sorry, I was wrong, that wasn’t right, shit, shit!”

Jake snatched the man’s dominant arm that was coincidentally the same one dangling by fractured bone and tendons from the shoulder. His soul had known what he wanted right from the start before his brain had processed it. “This hand,” he spat, holding it from the wrist, gnashing his teeth. “that pulled the trigger at me…” 

Murdered his daughter for a second time. 

All a soldier’s worth for. One hand to hold the stock tight against the body and one to fire. All that to take a single life.

Leaning the hand down against the rock in a sudden move, Jake slammed on the blunt, pointy end of the tomahawk on it like he was hammering a nail, the sickening crack of the bones breaking got followed by the avatar’s fractured scream. 

Jake saw you hunched, cheekily laughing in the blue and purple of the creek, freckles glowing because of the eclipse, silhouette illuminated by the floating bioluminescent bugs.  

Spinning the tomahawk in his clammy hand in a full 360 turn, he smashed it down once more, stronger. The metal broke skin and sank into spongy muscle. His ears were buzzing, ringing from how the shrill yells. 

Jake was hugging you after what seemed to be years, and your little arms were clinging to him for life — you were sand slipping from his fingers. 

Jake hammered again. 

You were telling him how mean he was to you, your voice suppressing the avatar’s. 

He brought it down one more time and felt the tomahawk recoil from hitting rock. 

You were bashful as you repeated how Jake would always love you. 

Guttural breaths getting louder with effort each hit, he kept slamming it down until everything was his beautiful little sweet girl. 

Again. 

Again. 

Again. 

Again and again and again and again and again until there was no resistance from the limb anymore and the man had gone silent and it was all mashed meat he was pounding— 

And then he almost plunged it to your bleeding, battered corpse, your stomach covered in reddish brown from the dried brown, body ashen blue, and Jake cried out in terror, jumping back and losing strength in his legs as the tomahawk flew from his hand and he fell over. 

His lungs constricted, refusing to take any breaths in and his heart ricocheted around in his ribcage, he was gaping at the wall of rock now washed red as if it was some white rose painted red in Alice in Wonderland. 

Jake sat there for the longest time, dissociated.

In those moments, he wasn’t Toruk Makto, he wasn’t Olo’eyktan, he wasn’t the pillar of a family of seven. He was simply Jake Sully. 

However, he wasn’t allowed to be stripped down to the bone until all that’s left was a mourning father. That was Jake’s reality. 

He had to cast the crippled man aside, the tragedy of his child away, and bring the leader of the People out right as your ghost rippled in his vision, watching spitefully within the forest — because all you wanted was for him to be your father, and he couldn’t even fucking do that after your death. 

This avatar was a valuable asset, a hostage to question. For the sake of his people. 

He wasn’t allowed revenge. 

A single drop of tear rolled down expressionless face. When he looked down, Jake’s hands were still stained with your blood. 

The only instance a child should be covered in blood is when they come out of their mother’s womb, little lungs being burned with existence for the first time, crying from the pain of being separated from Eywa’s arms, birth mother a complete stranger to them. 

The gore of you barely clinging to life, unmoving, drenched in your own blood, wiped and wiped to the point Neytiri had to change buckets of water until it turned light pink was overlapping with the joyful image of your newborn self she had lovingly and gently cleaned of the remains of labor with wetted mothsilk, skin too sensitive for water for the moment, the blue coming alive as the blood and other clotted bodily fluids were cleansed. 

It wasn’t the broken, ice-cold, lithe body of a young girl Neytiri had cleaned in the torment of her excoriated, unraveling mind, it was her baby’s. Her baby, her poor baby with a gaping hole in the middle of your body, memories marauding Neytiri’s lucidity. 

She lived the moment of your first cleansing over and over again. 

You were a particularly indomitable cryer, Neytiri had known you would be infamous for your battle cries right as she was brought back from the blackout of post-birth by your overly-healthy wailing — or perhaps you would best Ninat as a singer when you’d unapologetically blossom, but one thing was ascertained: her first daughter was a fierce, fiery blue ball of ardor compared to Neteyam, who was almost shy and reluctant in disturbing people around him in his weeping that a collective worry for his health had plagued the whole clan. 

As you squirmed, smeared in chunks of her flesh and blood, as if you wanted to jump off from her arms and start walking already, Neytiri had smiled up at her Jake, your father, unable to take his eyes off you, stuck between awe and laughs that came and went. “She has your heart,” she’d told him, spent and hurting, but wonderfully alive. “Strong.”

He’d traced his thumb through her drenched hairline. “Lungs, you mean?” His scent, wind and hearthfire, had enveloped Neytiri when Jake had leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I think they’re yours.” The teasing about how you had made Neytiri scream in labor wouldn’t have gone unpunished if she wasn’t on the edge of sleep held up only by your crying, so, he’d gotten a light hit on the side of his face instead. But Jake knew how to apologize, he’d always been spectacular at it. “I’d say she takes after me in appearance, look at her little ugly face.”

To Neytiri, you were beautiful, face dark purple from how strong you were screaming, and a mini-village elder with the wrinkles, swinging those little fists — things that made you lovely in her eyes. Her first daughter. 

She had learned motherhood from Neteyam, but she would learn to understand her mother and her choices through you, someone she thought couldn’t be more different from her — Neytiri, all Mo’at could have been, and Mo’at, all Neytiri might have become, once. She prayed you would love her as much as she’d begun to love you the second you were in her arms. 

To think the enormity of her love hadn’t reached you — it was one of the greatest failures of Neytiri’s life. If it had, you’d be wounded, but perfectly conscious and well in her mother’s tent. If it had, you would have been beyond comfortable telling those demons had hurt you. 

In that all-consuming devastation, the woven towel she was using to wipe the thin sheet of sweat that formed on your body slipped from her uncoordinated hands and fell on your chest, and Neytiri had to hold back the breath that spiked to become a hiccup by covering her mouth, and immediately, her curled hand was engulfed in a smaller, five-fingered one. She came eye-to-eye with Kiri after raising her head, putting her other hand on hers at the girl’s more disheveled and messy self, heart dropping to her stomach at the fatigue varnishing an extra layer of moisture in her daughter’s drooping eyes. 

“Oh Kiri,” Neytiri mumbled, caressing her cheek and brushing the tangled hair away from her face. 

“Why don’t you go get some rest, mom, hm?” 

“Even if I somehow agreed to that, I could never agree to leaving my daughter alone in this.”

“I’m fine.” Stopping to take a breath, she sighed, collecting the towel and starting to fold it. “Well, not really fine, but don't worry about me. We’re all miserable here. And that’s natural.” Fiddling with the corners of the cloth, she leaned in a bit and lowered her voice, light reflecting from the yellow of her irises making it look like they shone from within. “I… I know she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. Eywa has bestowed us a gift she has never given to anyone before and it’s for a reason. I feel that everything will be set right.” She shook her head up and down, determined. “Dad will do it. I know he will.”

Neytiri trusted Kiri with her intuition and understanding when it came to the inscrutable intentions of Eywa, she was closer to the Great Mother than any Tsahik was — so close that she would drift away too much from her family. And deep down, Neytiri was heartsick by this invisible line that separated her from her daughter, any parent in her place would be unsettled like this.

She was also hog-tied to close the distance growing between them because of the human boy Spider and how she would find camaraderie in him in their ‘orphan’ status as she called it. Kiri was already faraway in her obscure existence and unwittingly separated herself as if she didn’t see herself as a real part of the family some days, and Neytiri hated that the ‘kinship’ she’d formed with Spider was planting these ideas into her head when she was her and Jake’s daughter, no more, no less. To overwrite those feelings, she tried so hard to reach Kiri, but was unsettled by the feeling of being hated sometimes, again, more or less for her stance in placing Spider at the outskirts of their family. 

But oftentimes Kiri would express her affection through small, otherwise unnoticeable actions, just like this one, a caring touch and reassurance that could melt an ice cube — and Neytiri basked in the babiest of steps between them. And maybe this was how Jake had it with you, too, she had never thought about it like this before. 

Taking in Neytiri’s solemn silence, Kiri grumbled, suddenly agitated about something. “I just… I just wish I had isirka resin and xhikul seeds for this paste and cover her wound with it. Grandmother’s extract isn’t enough to stimulate the bone marrow and ugh—” The girl groaned with the obvious guilt at groaning in the first place, as well. “I’m sorry, mom, I don’t know what—”

“It’s alright, Kiri,” Neytiri said, weariness blending with tenderness, knowing you’d agree too. You would have probably told her to not waste her energy and wait around when there wasn’t anything left to do anyway. “Maybe it’s you who needs some rest. You’ve worked hard. Harder than any of us. You do need rest, too.”

Kiri was quick to refuse. “I’m trying something new, I can’t go anywhere.”

“I’m sure one of your brothers—”

Her earpiece buzzed alive. “Neytiri, do you read me?”

The unexpected timing of it caught her off guard, her hand flying up to the device, drums of alarm going off in her head by the croaky, despondent note to his voice. The impact of their previous argument evaporated from existence just by hearing his distress. “Jake?” She focused on you, not observing any difference, and frowned in worry, her pulse picking up pace as Kiri also locked her attention to her the moment she heard her father was on the line. “What happened?”

“I have here one of Quaritch’s dreamwalkers—whatever they are.” Neytiri’s mouth opened and closed at the reveal, forehead creasing. “Alive. Somehow survived to get to the Tree of Souls.”

Her hand instinctively descended to touch your cool and clammy arm closest to her. “Tree of Souls…? But you were—”

“Yeah. Yeah, he… I couldn’t. I couldn’t…” 

She stared at your face, all thoughts draining from her mind. “What are you saying, Jake?”

Silence.

“Jake,” Neytiri implored, her voice snuffed out towards the end. She tried again. “Jake, I don’t understand. What does this mean..?”

“Son of a bitch pulled me out before I could… before I could finish talking to her.” Kiri reached for her when she let out an incoherent, disbelieving voice, getting more panicked as Neytiri clawed at her tightening chest with his next words. “I failed, Neytiri. I couldn’t… She…” 

Neytiri was physically helpless to respond, and Kiri couldn’t hold back from inquiring seeing the state she was in. “Mom? Mom! What’s wrong?”

“This man, if it wasn’t for this man, I had it.” Jake kept talking at an increasing speed the longer Neytiri didn’t say anything. “I had her right in my arms, making future plans, smiling, everything was perfect, and then he—” His breath quivered. “He fucking—” And he stopped the sentence abruptly to get some semblance of control back because Eywa knew Neytiri was losing it ever so slowly. “I need you here with me right now, please. Please, I…” 

Neytiri refused to acknowledge what Jake couldn’t say out loud. You were still breathing, she felt your chest rise and fall even if the pattern was weak. You had life left in you. Jake saying he failed made no sense to her, she didn’t believe it. 

“Neytiri, I need to question this… this filth, need to learn all I can about what’s going on, but I can’t do it on my own. I’ll kill him. In a heartbeat. I want to squeeze the life out of him with my hands right this moment and I— I can’t… We have to know how they could have gotten this far, what they’re planning—and now right to the Tree of Souls too, and…” The rambling that got chaotic and disconnected faded off eventually, as if he’d lost his voice. “Shit.”

And throughout all that, Neytiri had gone from confused, in denial, at the threshold of grief but not nearly in there anchored by your pulse, and lusting for blood within minutes. Kiri was taken aback by the anger radiating from her. “Bring him here!”

“I can’t. He could have a tracker on him—they could have put it in his body. I can’t risk that.”

Neytiri stood up with only one thing in her mind, and it didn’t match Jake’s. “Where are you?”

“You gotta let me pass, buddy, come on! You wanna take my head off or something? Why are you being like this!” 

Hands up and quick on his feet, Lo’ak was trying to negotiate. 

With an ikran of all things. Not even his.

Yours. 

Mom storming out like a wronged, vengeful spirit had been the perfect chance for him to do a quick supply run sneak off, but your overgrown big bird with the exact same attitude as you was getting in his way and blocking Lo’ak off by snapping its jaw at his head and opening its sunset fire tinged wings every time he attempted to cross over to his own ikran. They were basically at a standstill and he had no idea why. 

Lo’ak just wanted to help. Help you. 

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Shit. 

Neteyam. Making his way to him with such speed that got his braids swinging and of course he’d sniffed Lo’ak out like a nantang. Followed the odd silence, probably. Eywa, he should have thought this out better. 

“Skxawng, do you not remember what dad said?”

“I do,” Lo’ak hummed and hawed, and that was the problem. He’d never felt this guilty about disobeying dad’s orders before, it was making him squirm. “But look, Kiri said she needed isirka resin and xhikul seeds or whatever to treat her, I’m going—”

Neteyam’s jaw had flexed when he said whatever, but there was no visible agitation after he gave a sharp breath through his nose.  “So let’s call mother or—”

“They’re busy with some sky person dad caught—”

“I know. The same ones who did this to our sister. I know, Lo’ak.” Neteyam aggressively gestured to the exit of the cave system, shaking his arm while speaking. “What do you think will happen if you go off on your own and land yourself in bigger trouble than she did? Huh?”

Lo’ak threw resentful looks at your ikran. “I can’t stay put like this. I have to do something.”

“This again? There is nothing we can do.” He hadn’t said that in his normal drilling of dad’s orders — Neteyam had the same pain of acceptance that were Lo’ak’s bruises etched onto his face.

And that made Lo’ak want to throw up all over the place. He’d experienced countless sicknesses his siblings had fallen to over the years, none of those were as fatal as this and he didn’t know what the fuck to do. What was he supposed to do when his sister was dying? What did one do when a family member was in this situation anyway? Nothing seemed right to him. 

And something was finally, finally within his power — and Lo’ak would of course rise up to the challenge without hesitation. He wasn’t just going to sit down and let that possibility of your salvation slip by. “But there is. Kiri said—”

“Lo’ak if you leave right now and somehow get caught dad will never trust you again. He was the most open he’s ever been, don’t betray him like that.” 

He was getting annoyed that Neteyam was ignoring the whole point, though it wasn’t as if Lo’ak didn’t know. He was fully aware, and that’s why this was supposed to be a secret. Dad couldn’t be hurt by what he didn’t know now, could he? Not only were you getting Kiri’s remedy, which he was sure as his name was Lo’ak that would end up most effective, but he also wasn’t breaking his promise to dad when the tiniest thread of trust in his son was knotted by the man just recently.  

Neteyam grabbed him by the top of his head in a brotherly manner but his hold was of steel, the boy tried to grumpily push him off but he didn’t budge, staring right into his soul. “Use what’s in this for once and just tell dad or mother, they’re down in the forest already anyway.” When he let go, Lo’ak stumbled back, rubbing the sting off, and the semi-playful older brother was back. “And one of them will actually know what to look for.”

His immediate response was refusal. “I know what I’m looking for—”

“What does isirka look like?”

The sounds your ikran was making was eerily close to laughter and Lo’ak felt heat rush up to the tips of his ears. “It’s a tree.”

Neteyam didn’t have brow hair like Lo’ak did, but the way he raised the lines was always more expressive than how he did it. “Xhikul, then?”

“Flower, skxawng.”

“Wrong.” Lo’ak’s tail started beating the air at the condescending tone. “Kiri is talking about the fruit. Xhika is its flower.”

He rolled his eyes, turning away. “Whatever—”

“Is it whatever?” Neteyam grabbed Lo’ak by the shoulder and spun him around so rough that he got dizzy. “Are you calling my sister’s life whatever?”

Lo’ak was going to explode from how wrong this was going and how insistent Neteyam was to twist his words. “That’s not what I meant bro!” 

“You are so careless.” Neteyam’s tail had shot up ramrod straight, the little bush of hair at the end of it all puffed up, ears perking in all directions. He wasn’t necessarily yelling but was tense all over, something he did whenever they were playing back in the day and he was about to pounce after staying still enough to implant a false seed of safety. “You don’t even think about what can happen if you were to bring a completely different ingredient! You don’t think!”

“Sorry that I’m trying to help! What are you doing?”

“Keeping us safe. Keeping you safe.” He pressed his lips together on a thin line, but couldn’t hold back whatever was bubbling inside. “I’m not losing another sibling, Lo’ak!”

Only a small gasp escaped Lo’ak when he opened his mouth in retaliation. He couldn’t have found his voice even if he found something to say to that rawness in return, anyway. 

The gut-churning guilt doubled. 

“Hey… I—”

“Go,” Neteyam whispered, tilting his head together with the lone word. “Since you’re dying to help, help Kiri. She’s exhausted. I don’t think grandmother will refuse.”

“What about you?” And there he goes again. Wrong words. Neteyam was looking more closed-off than before. “I’m not accusing or anything—”

“I can’t go in there.”

“What?”

“I can’t,” Neteyam took a deep breath and loudly let it go, tail deflating, the arch of it depressing as hell for some reason. “I can’t look at her.”

Neteyam just gave a forlorn smile in return to Lo’ak’s heavily concerned looks demanding he continue but not knowing how to word it, his back looked weirdly lonely as he was tending to your significantly calmer ikran to join back the horde. 

Buried in negative thoughts all the way back and ignoring the pitiful looks from the rest of the clan, he met Kiri outside of the healing tent talking to Spider, and he could see Tuk’s back covering the view to you in his peripheral.

They were whispering about something and it was obvious even from a distance where they were nothing but stick figures. At least try to look less suspicious, Lo’ak thought. 

The only part he caught from the conversation was Spider saying, “Just describe them to me,” — Kiri was really leaning in towards him. 

“What’s going on?” 

The two looked like they were caught in the middle of scheming, and it clicked almost immediately. 

If Lo’ak had thought of going off on his own, so had they. 

“You aren’t going anywhere, bro,” he said, draping his arm across the human boy’s shoulders. “Neteyam’s literally patrolling.”

“You have to be kidding me,” Spider groaned, visibly disappointed. It warmed Lo’ak’s heart to see he was totally down for sneaking off the camp for you. “You said your dad told him to rest.”

“Yeah, he did. Except Neteyam never rests. He has a dancing glow worm up his ass.”

The conversation couldn’t continue because Kiri did a double take at something. 

“Tuk!” Kiri took a few steps aside, squinting as if she didn’t think she was seeing it right. Then her expression burst into panic, her hands flying forward as she ran to the tent, Spider and Lo’ak could only stare, baffled. “Tuk, oh Eywa, what are you doing!—” 

“I’m giving her water, she’s thirsty.”

“What?”

He actually rushed to the entrance of the tent, nearly falling headfirst in, having stumbled on some rock. Your mouth was actually open. And Tuk was really trying to get you to drink from the bowl she was holding against your mouth.

You choked at one point, still unconscious, but it was a sign of life. Lo’ak didn’t know if the shocked screech came from him or Kiri.  

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul

@eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily@n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

@thotd-f1 @httpjiikook @nipoxe @fussel9913 @gloryekaterina @nxptury @thesheelfsworld @heyyitsmaiaa @anyasullyyy @rey26 @in-luvais @em-100 @n7cje @kpopslur @holysaladapricothero @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @maviee @grxcisxhy-wp @me-marilm @n39ro-chann

#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader

[frostbitebakery]

WIP Game

Rules: in a new post, post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how nondescriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet and tell us about it!

Tagged by the unbelievably skilled @bluemaskedkarma 💜

1. LOUD. (So. Much. Starting to tinker with a Corrie Guard armor)

2. Who Ordered The Resurrection Special

3. Surrender

4. Pirate AU for @elwenyere

5. Obi-Wan for @ninjigma

6. Good Morning, Obi-Wan

7. Hand Kiss

Things that are Brewing or Stewing:

1. Something based on the song Witch by Apashe, Alina Pash (crescendo starting at 2:09 has devoured my soul)

2. Frostbite (XD)

3. Padawans

Things that are yet to come:

1. Listen. The muse is an unforgiving creature and I follow their whims. Did I know I’d draw Codywan almost very closely upper lips touching kissing before this weekend? No.

No pressure tagging: @omaano @snowywinterevenings @jedi-enthusiast @razzbberry

#wip game

[stesierra]

Writeblr ReIntro!

I'm posting a new intro because now that I've been on Writeblr a little while, I realize how much information I left out! Hi, I'm Stephanie, I live in the desert with my husband and baby and three cats, and I'm an ace, bipolar fantasy writer! When I was a kid, they said I had ADHD but then I got my Masters degree in biology, so they claim I can't have it. Online tests say I'm probably autistic.

I used to write sci fi twelve years ago but only low tech sci fi about weird aliens, which nobody likes. Now I write fantasy novels! Lots of fantasy novels! I am beginning to post them on my website so if you want to read them, please keep an eye on this post.

My books often but not always have some romance (either m/f or f/f because I prefer female protagonists.) Since I'm ace (and demiromantic), my interpretation of romance and attraction is not exactly what you'd expect from, say, a romance novel.

I am not going to tell you about all my books! I've written eighteen! Four of them are shelved forever! Here's some recent ones (written or revised since 2018) that I haven't given up on. Please ask me questions about them! I LOVE talking about my books! Also, if you want to be added to my taglist for writing samples let me know! Please also tell me if you're interested in alpha or beta reading and for which book! Mutuals only, please!

My books are beneath the cut! As I add WIP intros, I'll update this list with links.

Cast Out

YA fantasy! On her sixteenth birthday, Zisha is cast out of the Plenary Cities for the crime of being born deaf, like her grandmother before her. In the wastelands, she meets Thesil, a depressed and bitter young woman. Zisha wants nothing to do with her — until she sees Thesil's face in a vision. But before she can find out what the visions mean or reach her grandmother's holdings in the wastes, the plague returns to the Plenary Cities. If the disabled really caused the plague thirty years ago, and were cast out to stop the spread, how can it be back when all of them are outcast?

Status: Finished. Being serialized.

WIP intro here.

Now being serialized here. First five chapters up, one posted weekly.

The Bone Queen

This is my NA fantasy about the aftermath of freeing an undead queen and her skeleton army. They take over the kingdom, of course! The main character, Elise, is trapped in Bandrum palace by Aubrey, the ghost who tricked her into falling in love and freeing him (plus everyone else.) He's an animated skeleton now with plans to marry Elise and force her to carry his children. The bone queen has promised him she'll make it happen. Too bad no one cares what Elise wants. If only she had magic of her own...

Status: undergoing a rewrite after developmental edit. Was 109k before revisions. Not available for beta reading.

Draft number? Hahahaha. It has two complete sequels (The Spellbound King (106k) and The Matriarch's Daughter (96k)) I must also rewrite. This series is going to kill me but I love it. My mom, who loves everything I write, complained that it was weird. I'm very proud.

WIP intro here.

First chapter here.

School of Souls

This is my YA contemporary fantasy about a boarding school in the Bighorn Mountains! It's supposed to be a place parents can send "bad" teens to have their problems sorted out, but secretly the founder is using it to train the kids as sorcerers. Even more secretly, the school devours the souls of the students sent there, and the teenagers who graduate aren't the same as the ones who arrived... Warning: does include teenage addiction to sleeping pills and ghosts and and parental death. It's going to have sequels but I haven't written them yet.

Status: Complete first draft. 83k. Available for alpha reading.

WIP intro here.

First chapter here.

The Many-faced Princess

This is YA fantasy with a historical vibe but set in a made up world. Vaguely inspired by ancient Phoenicia. It's about Princess Ameryi, who was blessed by the genderless trickster god, Akihel, to be able to change her face. If her father the king ever found out, he'd have to execute her, of course. Akihel is just plain evil. All the other gods say so. A daughter who's their champion? Impossible. An abomination. So Ameryi will just have to make sure her father never finds out. That was easier to do before the Asirtinsa Empire threatened to invade and her father sent her to secure an alliance with a neighboring king. She's supposed to marry him. Not steal his face and frame him for murder. But sometimes plans just don't work out.

This book was supposed to be about two lesbian princesses who frame the king for murder so they can elope, but both princesses decided to be ace and there was nothing I could do.

Status: Complete first draft. 83k. It's going to have sequels but I haven't written them yet. Available for alpha reading.

First chapter here.

Map here.

Court Phoenix

This is my NA fantasy! Kerra is a blacksmith's apprentice. Not because she wants the job, but because her mother sold her future to him when she was still a toddler who crawled into live fires and giggled as the flames consumed her clothes. Now she's a woman, trapped by the expectations of her family and her village. Until one day, a phoenix crash-lands and dies in her arms. When it's reborn, it chooses Kerra as its keeper. Soon, her dreary future is swept away. A princess from Skyfire, the moving city, offers her a job in the royal court. How could Kerra refuse? Her family's claims that she'll die if she ever leaves the village are just manipulative lies. Aren't they?

Status: Complete third draft. 104k. Available for beta reading.

First chapter here.

The Revenant Trilogy

Adult fantasy. Solving a murder should bring good fortune, but all it brings Mindral Thideet is disaster. Her fame and peaceful life as head researcher at the city of knowledge end abruptly. In retaliation for her investigation into his crimes, Payar Cheref, the head of the powerful Cheref family, burns her beloved cousins alive and scars her face. The scar marks her as a revenant, a body possessed by a godkin, one of the gods' evil children. Her life as a researcher is over. All that's left is revenge.

No one believes her when she denies that godkins have any power over her. But godkins, real ones, are far closer than she realizes. Tearing down Payar Cheref could destroy Mindral, her family, and the nation itself.

-The Halfway Revenant (rewriting draft 4) 120k. Not available for beta reading.

-The Soul-Seer (draft 2) - 130k

-The Godkin's Gambit (draft 2) 121k

First chapter here.

As Immortality Fades

Adult fantasy. Five hundred years ago, one of the immortal and unpredictable Valteifur visited the kingdom of Kathild and granted the young queen Nelone immortality. But there was a catch. She'd live forever, youthful and strong, just so long as her subjects were happy. For centuries, she's met her part of the deal. But when the Valteifur returns to check on her progress, he grants her a new gift: the resurrection of every single person in Kathild who's died in the last two hundred years. Then he disappears.

There aren't enough houses for them all. There's not enough food. And winter is here.

Status: Complete first draft. 98k. Available for alpha reading.

Bi MC, enemies to lovers.

First chapter here.

Stitches and Memories

This one's adult fantasy. Antea's father ripped her mind apart, left her for dead, and vanished twelve years ago, and she's going to find out why. But when constables try to kill her and strange truth magic grows inside of her, hunting her father starts to look like suicide. Too bad going home isn't an option.

Status: I exchanged this with a critique partner and now it embarrasses me. Fourth draft. 122k. Available for beta reading.

Trigger warning: magic seizures

First chapter here.

WIP intro here.

Triangle Park

Contemporary Fantasy. I have no idea who it's for. An elf exiled to the middle of nowhere ends up stuck with an unexpected child. It's about reluctant parenting and protecting the needy. And elves and faeries slumming it in a mobile home.

Status: Complete first draft. 86k. Available for alpha reading.

First chapter here.

Mud-Child

Adult fantasy. Rebeka has always heard that a woman who goes through menopause loses her spark (the magic that lets her create children). If she's had children, it just makes the neighbors a little more fertile. But Rebeka never wanted a man, and she never wanted to raise a child. Not since her twin sister died and her beloved Suza left her for a man. The problem is, the spark leaves a childless woman differently, everyone says. A bitter hag? She'll curse her neighbors. A sweet dim biddie? She'll give her spark to inanimate objects and create a monster. Rebeka doesn't know which she is, but she believes it's a myth.

That was before the clay in her clay pit woke up and called her mother.

Status: Third draft. 109k. Needs a rewrite! Not available for beta reading.

First chapter here.

WIP intro here.

I GUESS I'M WRITING A NEW BOOK

The Giant's Gamble

First chapter here.

I started writing this on Friday the 13th, 2023. LET'S SEE HOW LONG IT TAKES TO WRITE WITH A BABY.

Short stories

The Unfamous Dead

VERY OLD CRAP

The Scribe and the Sphinx

Adult historical fantasy

Status: second draft. Shelved for good. 85k.

The Adrift series

The River's Drift. 100k.

The Waking Mountain. 106k.

Low-tech alien sci fi. Shelved for good.

My first book whose name I forget. About 50k. Exists only as a hard copy in my parents' house.

Taglist so far (tell me if you want to be added or removed)

Tag list for everything

@harleyacoincidence

@anonymousfoz

@moremysteriesthantragedies

@elizababie

@sm-writes-chaos

@bellascarousel

@the-dragon-chronicler

@teacupsandstarlight

@vorskra

@wrenofthewords

@amostdelectablescribbler

@mysticstarlightduck

@phantommill

@gracewritesbooks

@aziz-reads

@owlsandwich

@symbioticsimplicity

@squarebracket-trick

@koala2all

@rmgrey-author

@atomatowriter

@cheerfulmelancholies

@delusionisaplace

@janec23

@writing-is-a-martial-art

@authortango

Just chapters and snippets

@da-na-hae

For The Many-faced Princess

@deadlyessencewhispers

@serenanymph

The Halfway Revenant

@acertainmoshke

For Stitches and Memories

@space-writes

@acertainmoshke

The Bone Queen

@janec23

@holdmyteaplease

@digital-chance

@thecrookedwriterspath

@tea-and-mercury

@coven-archives

I love you all!

#writeblr intro #oh my god this is long #why did I write so much #why did I do this to myself #writeblr #writing #writing community #creative writing #fantasy #writers of tumblr

[mitsuki91]

Okay, just so you all know, daddy!Coryo live now in my mind permanently, and of course the only reasonable thing to do is set him free by writing something...

I will share one little wip I wrote in my tiny lunch break:

Coriolanus dropped another piece of meat with the classic clang and watched the hybrid devour it. 1.57 seconds. A new record.

"Tell me," replied the professor, his tone neutral to mask his irritation, "What should I do?"

He heard Dr Gaul's clang.

"I have decided that your little songbird will sing at the opening ceremony of the next Games. You remember, don't you? Lucy Gray Baird."

Coriolanus' heart lost a beat.

Determined not to show any emotion, he slammed his tongs back into the funnel. Clang.

She won't find her, he was thinking, frantic, trying not to panic.

She won't find her, and so…

"The girl is already on her way, with all her family," something detached itself inside him, like a piece of floating soul as he struggled to carry on his mechanical gestures. Another piece of flesh. Another clang. The stopwatch. 2.17 seconds. "I thought, as her former Mentor, you were the right person to host the Coveys... And convince your little Lucy Gray to play and sing for us in early July." 

She found her.

His heart was beating furiously in his chest. Clang. 2.54 seconds.

She found her.

When did she return?

"... With a smile on her face, possibly. Accompanied by her family so that the world can see how much a Victor is able to enjoy life, after being pardoned from Panem” 

She's bringing her to me.

Lucy Gray... To his house? With the Coveys? Little Maude Ivory... CC... Tam Amber? Barb Azure?

Oh god.

If she was back... What had she told the others?!

Would they hate him, all of them?

And he was supposed to convince her to sing for Panem? With a smile on her face?

Another clang. His mind raced in circles, and Coriolanus had to force himself to maintain a neutral expression, to carry out his task, to feign indifference...

Could this have been a second chance?

"Ah, there's one small detail," Dr Gaul continued, indifferent to his inner screams, "I don't think it will be a problem for you, however it's better that the public doesn't know... You see, as a matter of reputation."

"What?" asked Coriolanus, his tone always neutral.

Clang. That ugly rat face again. 1.97 seconds.

"Your songbird had a baby," replied Dr Gaul, tone as always sing-songy. Coriolanus stopped with the tongs in midair, rigid. Had he understood correctly?! “It's not good for Capitol City to be aware of the... Poor composure of the people of the Districts. Beasts that mate without even waiting until they come of age…”

Coriolanus felt himself rocking and had to appeal to every last ounce of self-control to remain upright and still. Not to be seen. Not to collapse.

Lucy Gray, with a child?

Lucy Gray... Lucy Gray with...?

"... Are you all right, Mr Snow?"

Coriolanus widened his smile and beat the tongs into the funnel with a loud clang. He took the time. 2.80 seconds.

"Well, I'll be getting baby items," he replied, posed and courteous and light as ever.

Inside, he was filled with fury.

Who dared?!

Let me know if you are curious 😂😂

#coriolanus snow #fan fiction #daddy coryo #snowbaird #my fics #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas

[13thdoodle]

bunch of Phantasy AU doodles n wip from earlier this year

Basically I just found out this year that ball-jointed dolls actually have strings in them and not just... magically attached by the ball joints themselves? And 31 in this AU is a ball jointed doll that were made out of Danny's energy so here we are :3c

I've been watching a lot of doll customization since earlier this year and found out from dollightful's video that no they are all connected by elastic strings inside so that's where the idea came from

...i was looking on google to find a good example to put here and clearly I'm not exactly paying attention to how the main body strings are actually.. pinned to?

the video I've been watching the most is dollightful n moonlight jewel and they have their bjd usually only to the bottom of the doll head instead of all the way to the top on the skull pin like the diagram above

Which is why 31 has his strings all connected to the 'heart' in the middle instead of the head kasjdnkasjnd

But yeah uhhh specifics aside...

----

Those ball jointed dolls made me think of 31, and then thinking about the clones in Phantasy AU and like.. the logistic of it

for 31, the idea is that during the circus gothica arc for this AU, Danny actually got kidnapped all the whole way into another universe/plane in which he met Valeska (Enn's oc) who unalive what his face the circus leader n break Danny's hypnosis

and now that Danny is essentially stuck in a whole other plane/realm/or sth he just following Valeska hoping she'll help him find his way back.

In one such trip, Danny got kidnapped (again) by another group/cult who wanted to use his power/energy as a gate keeper to the ghost zone to make their own gate keeper so they can open portals to ghost zones and maybe other realms too

31 is part of the experiments. He's a doll made with part of Danny's energy as his core.

And then it's.. uhh.. sth sth Valeska finally found out where they kept Danny and devour everyone there safe from Danny n 31 who helped him escape so now the three of them travel together~

The last pict is me thinking about clones and kingdom hearts :tm: so dramatic about Danny being the soul separated from the main body and 31 a clone made from part of the soul too and all that Not sure where I'm going with that but it do sound cool

And there's also Danielle but I'm not exactly sure.. how she would fit in? but it would be interesting if she was made from Danny's body somehow

so 31 made from part of teh soul and Dani from part of the body sounds poetic somehow

#13thdoodle #dp phantasy au #dp fantasy au #dp 31 #if u noticed that I've been putting some read more lately #it's bc one of the school project is to document all your progresses in a doc including all ur research and fails and what not #and basically i'm trying to make it into a habit by doing it here too #like.. no harm done i think in putting up what inspired me and where ideas came from #n what rambling about things #yall follow me here so i assume ur interested a lil bit about me rambling my ideas n such #i put them under readmore specifically bc I know how long I can go on #and like the main thing about documentation is to be transparent about it #u learn from ur failures n ur successes n this is one way to track them #if u fcked up figure out where how and why and what u can learn from it n then improve from said fail so yea anyway #but yea i been trying to keep things short n clean so it look nice before #but i got a p good grade for documenting everything last tri so now I'm well actually I DO have a lot to say about things #so heree i am #am i gonna be more active tho that would be a whole different topic all together bc ha ha capstone qwq

[flordeamatista]

Infinity

pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

concept: He is my soul, my other half, my lover, and a source of light in my life. He is everything to me.

word count: 800

warnings: poetic fluff with Bucky, soft kisses, nicknames- Zvezdochka = Star in Russian 

a/n: A old wip dating back to January from a conversation with @jobean12-blog and was meant to come alive for @fluffyprettykitty 1k Writing Challenge since I had stargazing.

Congratulations on reaching this milestone. You are such a gift to this website with your beautiful heart and talent.

Masterlist

I am captivated by the twinkle of stars in your eyes.

The night sky turned pitch black and the stars glowed like diamonds, their sparkle light champagne against the dark color. The trees were illuminated by the roar of the fire, cast a warm golden-orange glow that served as a shield against the stinging wind.

Holding hands, you cuddled up under a gray blanket and listened to the night sounds while you watched the stars. In harmony with the dancing flames, a million bugs were chirping and the fire gave the branches a rhythmic beating. In the night sky, you two were alone.

 As you try to visualize what he is writing to you, you can almost feel his breath on the words as he stamps those words back with kisses on his lips. You do not mind, because his lips are also enjoying placing light butterfly kisses across your bare flesh as he traced his fingers over your body. Whenever he touches you, you are his.

It was your body that stole all his words. 

When you first caught a glimpse of his mouth, you felt an immediate desire to kiss him. Your desire for him was sparked by the feel of his skin. You were enchanted by his voice the minute you had heard it for the first time. The dazzling blue eyes of this man immediately caught your attention.

You risked opening up your life to Bucky, and he rewarded you by pouring his heart and soul into you. You want to be in his constant devotion because of how he makes you feel.

 He feels the warmth of your soft body against him, as his lips brush ever so gently across yours, and whispers that he desires you, how gorgeous you are, and how wonderful every movement of your beautiful body makes him look in the starlight, especially when caressing him. 

 You can only imagine how much affection he has in store for you. a wide grin breaks out across your face.

"Zvezdochka , why are you smiling? What could be so funny? " He looks at you with bright blue eyes as he kisses the rest of the words off of your skin..

In your eyes, you see my kisses, and I see them in my heart.

"I was imagining a galaxy full of love for you." He likes your witty remarks because he finds it hilarious when you think up ridiculous analogies to match the similes that you employ.

 Being in Bucky's company has been the single most joyful experience of your life. He is always open to hearing about your wackiest daydreams.

"Zvezdochka , you are the. brightest. star. in. my. sky," He showers you with passionate kisses all over your body as he speaks each syllable. 

He kisses you softly down your neck, gently caressing your lovely mouth with his tongue, moving back over your face and back to your neck, tenderly nipping the lobes of your ears, hinting at how much he wants to devour all of you. When his tongue touches yours, it's like the embers of a playful fire sparking and flaring.

You lean into him, eager for him to embrace you, desperate for you to feel loved and protected. Your body is hurting with the desire to be held, and you lean into him to satisfy that urge. 

 He takes your heart and plays it like a violin; he is the center of your world; he touches your body with beauty; he whispers love songs into your ear; he plays it like a violin. 

But stay strong so that this amazing time of feeling each other's deep love can last forever. He cherishes you and treats you like a celestial treasure. 

When he touches you, even for a second, you feel like a shining star. He kisses your skin, you float through the air like a constellation. When he embraces you, it's as if the universe itself is enfolding you in its arms.

He is my soul, my other half, my lover, and a source of light in my life. He is everything to me.

#selenes writing challenge #selenes 1k celebration #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x latina!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes drabble #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x mexican!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x woc!reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky barnes x yn #sebastian stan x plus size reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x woc reader #marvel #sebastian stan x reader

[drowninginships]

An Ask Game for Writers to Procrastinate Working on Your WIP(s)

First of all, thank you soooo much to @monbons and @valeffelees for tagging me, I nearly had a whole breakdown over how nice this fandom is and how good it feels to be included in something like this. Yall are the sweetest, thank you <3 1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s): Uhhhh, yall name your WIPs beforehand? I currently have two documents titled "nose ring simon" and "wing fic" and I typically title it just before I post it.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___” I think you'll find this is a pretty easy formula for most, if not all, of my fics. Simon + Piercing + Baz Horny. Alternatively, Simon + Wings = Baz Horny. Sensing a theme?

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it? Explicit tags, for sure. It'd be pretty funny to tag the wingfic as monsterfucking, so I'll probably do that, but otherwise, nothing crazy going on here. Just boys very much in love.

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)? "wing fic" often affectionately gets called "how the fuck do wings work" or "goddamn motherfucking physics"

5. ⚠️Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next? Definitely the piercing one. The wing fic isn't cohesive or coherent at this time, and it's more of a collection of scenes rather than a whole fic, anyway. I'm having a lot of fun writing the piercing one!!!

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as) Please see answer #1. It's truly mind boggling to know that some of yall are out here naming WIPs.

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

Of course it's gold. Everything about Simon is gold. His mind, his body, his soul. The color of his skin and his hair when the sun shines through it from behind. The small loop now adorning his nostril.

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP. For wing fic, I was trying to figure out a way to make an au scene where everyone has wings, and I could do a little, like, wing caretaking session? But I couldn't find a solid enough reason for everyone to have wings, and also I realized I just didn't care enough about that scene to pursue it further.

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet? I find this question particularly difficult. I don't know that there are any stories I want to tell, right now. Usually when I want to write something, I schedule it in and I do it. Right now, there's nothing on the back-burner.

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on? Only the 2! I'm not usually one to work on multiples at a time.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now? Re: "goddamn motherfucking physics," I've never been super into fantasy or a fandom that particularly liked wings, so I genuinely have no clue how these things work. I took on this project as a gift for @valeffelees after he lamented the lack of wing fics for him to devour, and while I'm not an expert, I'm certainly trying my best. But like, the anatomy??? of a wing???

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send. Again, thank you both so much for tagging me. You're exactly who I would have tagged here, so instead of tagging you both again, I'll tag @thewholelemon even though I know you've already filled this out <3 Also, I'll tag @chaoticgaywitch @iamamythologicalcreature @youarenevertooold @beastmonstertitan and @brilla-brilla-estrellita because you all played our stupid little poetry game and brought me a lot of joy!

#i can't believe i get to play this #thank you so much #you have brought peace to my kingdom #tag game #ask game #simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #snowbaz #carry on #simon snow trilogy

[bluberimufim]

WIP Intro

Title: Devourer of Souls

Genre + tropes: Fantasy, found family, fairytale retelling (Snow White and Rose Red)

Tag: devourer of souls wip

Themes (may be subject to change with the 1st draft): destruction vs creation, inherent contradictions of femininity, anti-war, choosing your own family, freedom from expectation, religious trauma

Status: outlining + first draft

Additional notes: I'm gonna (try to) do this for NaNo!! Wish me luck!!

edit: this is now a duology!

Plot

Seth was supposed to be a healer. That's what everyone said she would be. She would become a healer and fight in the war for the Goddess of Time. But her healing doesn't work like it's supposed to. Instead of giving life, she takes it away. People say she eats souls.

She tries to live a quiet life in the countryside, away from the war, but is rudely interrupted when Theo, a lost demigoddess, wanders into her life. Together, they try to find a place for themselves and their strange magic in this world. But war is never kind, and the Goddess of Time wants her daughter's power on her side - and she won't let some pesky healer get in her way.

Characters

Seth: a girl with terrifying powers who just wants a quiet life in a small town, alone, but learns to be happy after finding Theo. She was expelled from the hospital she was apprenticing for a failed healing that killed the patient and permanently damaged her leg in the process.

Theo: a powerful demigoddess whose magic is making her soul slowly wither away. Her adoptive family sent the Order after her after discovering her unusual powers and ends up finding Seth on her journey. Through her Goddess-Mother's influence, she becomes consumed by the war.

Flick: a teenager touched by the Goddess of Love, whose body houses two conflicting souls. They are cursed to have anyone they meet fall in love with them, and Seth takes them under her wing while on their journey to find themself.

Jane: a sort of puppet created by the Goddess of Time to replace Theo after her death, delivered to Seth when the Goddess couldn't stand her anymore. She's in the mortal world for the first time and trying to figure out who she wants to be.

The Goddess of Time: Theo and Jane's mother. By far the most ruthless - and broken - among her sisters. She lives in her Garden in the plane of the gods, where she takes her daughters to shape them into her champions.

Notes on the setting

everything in this world has a soul, or life force, which can be transferred by those with the right magical inclination

usually, healers can only direct the "souls" from themselves to other in order to heal them, and when their soul runs out, they die - it is the ultimate sacrifice and a healer's greatest honour, to surrender their very souls to their Goddess

there are three Sister Goddesses, each representing a core aspect of humanity, waging war against each other to see who is more powerful (I expand upon it here)

certain types of powerful magic can cause your soul to start eating itself if not kept in check, as is Theo's case

Edit: you can follow the development of Seth and Theo's relationship in the tag #the great Seth and Theo relationship liveblog

If you've read this far - thank you! I hope my WIP has interested you!

#guys look i made a banner! #it was an absolute nightmare to use canva for the first time but it exists now!!! #still to be decided if i give Seth religious trauma #no clue how to write that tho #this wip's aesthetic is basically “cottagecore but what if there was a holy war” #oh and demigods #writing #writeblr #my wips #devourer of souls wip #wip intro #writeblr wip intro #writers of tumblr

[jane-d-ankh-veos]

Re-reading Evolution, and it's even better as a whole with some things from the final chapter in hindsight.

These enigmatic metaphors go too well with the Calendar Council's inspiration from "The Man Who Was Thursday" and what its author said: "You ask me who Sunday is? Well, you may call him Nature, if you like. But you will note that I hold that when the mask of Nature is lifted you find God behind."

My mind is passionately gnawing on an AU (NOT meant to be a theory, just a purely self-indulgent fantasy): what if "Death's twin" is literally Life – which makes December the Creator – and the Judgements are merely usurpers (very befitting their usual role of a flawed and cruel Gnostic demiurge who only pretends to be the highest authority) who deposed December just like they banished the Black King of the Adulterine Castle?

Or, if December isn't a deity, simply a rebellious servant (because the Boatman says "we both served the same table once"), what if it was a forced reduction from the former to the latter as a first-warning punishment?

What if this original god of life-and-death truly cared about all creatures equally, but then the likes of the Sapphir'd King decided to devour souls for more power instead of guiding them through rebirth (which Devils reclaimed + which somehow-December-connected frost moths represent) and devised the Great Chain to justify the right of "greater" beings to prey on "lesser" ones?

What if the Liberation of Night isn't an overthrow of natural order but is a return to what it should always have been (before "then the light came") and it's no coincidence that the Anchoress managed to behold god's love and true design only in the darkness? (High-fiving this @gant-eyed-warden’s post.)

What if the Bishop of St Fiacre’s knows it all – and that’s where his hopeful religious devotion comes from despite being a Neathy creature that would never be forgiven and accepted by the Judgements?

...I definitely want to write something about it, but I already have two WIPs, ooooh...

#fallen london #sunless skies #failbetter games #the calendar council #the liberation of night #liberation of night #calendar council #the bishop of st fiacre's #the youthful naturalist

[illarian-rambling]

Is there anything from your WIP that you want to talk about/give a more detailed explanation of but haven't had an opportunity to?

Probably the whole "in the beginning" sequence if I'm being honest. The base worldbuilding. So let's do it!

Before there was anything, there was nothing. There was darkness, silence, and the endless void. It couldn't have been called happy, this void, but perhaps it was content.

Then, a spark came into the universe. Now, we had something. There was light, sound, and chaos. There were stars and young planets and baby galaxies just beginning to glow.

In eons hence, these two forces would be called many names, but for simplicity's sake, we can call them End and Beginning. Each was a collection of minds, a colonial organism on a massive scale. For a while, there was balance between the two. The minds of Beginning resided in the stars and churned out planets, some of which harbored early, microbial life. The minds of End resided in the dark inbetween, and made sure Beginning didn't overstep its bounds. However, in time, End grew bitter. It didn't like this bright, noisy, chaotic universe. It wanted things to go back to how they were before.

And so it began to exterminate Beginning.

Stars bled out and died as the universe was plunged into war. Beginning tried to fight back, but it was a creative force, not a destructive one, and it was no match for End's gluttonous march. Billions upon billions of galaxies were destroyed, consumed by the nothing that was there first, until finally, there was only one lonely mind of Beginning left.

We can call this mind the Creator. While its brethren were being devoured, this single mind in its yellow star set to work creating sentient life. It split off two aspects of itself to do this; one to create the body, the other to forge the soul. The Illarians call these aspects Tsa and Ayu. The dwarves call them the Prime Twins. But either way, humans and dwarves were not the first people they created. First came the Araunians.

As End closed in above, chewing through the nearby stars and the more distant planets in the solar wheel, the Araunians split and morphed into the varied peoples that crowd Illaros today. Humans and goblins, sirens and selkies, and only one race of elves so far. All of these disparate people had one thing in common though; they had gods.

Through the power of their souls, divine sparks given to them by the Creator itself, the gods these peoples imagined sprang into reality. The Illarian, the Aderenon, the Nabafyrian ancestors, the Great Anglerfish, and many more. These were the children of mortality, grandchildren to the last mind of Beginning left living. This mind, the Creator, had only one message for the powerful new gods: "Get out there and fight that fucking thing!!"

The gods are not bound by the rules of creation and destruction, but instead can levy both equally. They rushed to fight End, to push it back from where it had besieged them and their makers, and they have been fighting for every moment since then. Through their efforts, the mortals of Illaros have been able to grow, develop, and evolve. The Creator has survived as the last of its kind. And though the universe is so terribly empty, it will never be nothing again, so long as the gods of Illaros defend all of something.

Without any true stars besides the sun though, what do the people of Illaros see in the night sky, you might ask? Well, they see what they think are stars---bright, white, untwinkling lights. In truth, these are the eyes of End, everwatching and everwaiting to devour the last bastion of life in all of the universe.

Thanks for the ask! I figured I'd brought End up enough that yall were owed a bit of an explanation. Hope this is interesting!

(As another side note: the words Illaros (the planet everyone lives on) and Illarian (the human gods) are so similar because they're both human words that stem from the same root. 'Illa' means horizon in Janazi (human language) and is an important concept to the seafaring people. A person from Illaros would be called Illari, though no such word exists on Illaros today, because they don't know about other planets yet, so why would they specify)

(Again, thanks for listening to me rant about worldbuilding)

(Have a bitchin day <3)

(Whoops here's my tag list @amandacanwrite @elsie-writes @riveriafalll @kosmic-kore @kaylinalexanderbooks @bard-coded @carrotsinnovember @patternwelded-quill @somethingclevermahogony @whatwewrotepodcast @goldxdarkness @the-angriest-author @mk-writes-stuff)

#writing #writerscommunity #writblr #my ocs #author #writeblr

[ceph-the-ghost-writer]

Writblr Summoning Circle Intro

Since I rearranged things a bit, I'll try doing a proper introduction. What's the worst that could happen?

Hello and welcome to my shrine place of power writing blog. I'm Ceph, they/them, and despite the ghostly username I am, in fact, a regular human adult with a job, college homework, skin, blood, etc. Video games, houseplants, and buying books faster than I read them are just a few of my hobbies.

I write different flavors of fantasy mostly, with sprinkles of horror and romance/spice thrown in for pizzazz. If you're interested in...

Vampires, werecreatures, necromancers, merfolk, and/or passive-aggressive poltergeists

Resourceful protagonists in terrible peril who sometimes make choices that change things forever, for better or worse

Lovers becoming enemies becoming forced allies and maybe more in some cases

Themes of solidarity, the myriad facets of love, and people fighting for a better future

Slow burns

Worldbuilding that I definitely don't make up on the fly

Mortals becoming deities and vice versa

Telepathic monsters that could devour your soul -OR- become your best friend

Liminal spaces like roadside diners at 3 a.m

...you might find my WIPs tolerable. Possibly even fun.

Follow my sideblogs @dysthanasia-series and/or @the-primrose-path-story to get notifications for new chapters and other neat story-related stuff. Check out @coven-archives to see what I'm reblogging from fellow writers. Or just ask to be put on a taglist for a WIP you're interested in. You can also read for free on Patreon and AO3.

I welcome asks, prompts, writblr events (Worldbuilding Wednesday, etc.), and any interactions that lead to transmutating Internet strangers into friends. Do tell me about your characters and lore. I want to devour know all of it. Yes, even the obscure facts that never really make it into the story despite hours of research poured into them. Especially those.

That's pretty much it. Feel free to reblog or like this post or invite me into an object you own at the stroke of midnight if you want me to give a follow.

Below the cut you'll find a list of WIPs and links to read them which will increase my power every time you click one. Content advisories are at the top of each work and chapter.

Apophenia

Old rough draft version here

Genre(s): Urban/Paranormal fantasy, vampires, post-apocalyptic, whump-ish

Status: Redraft in progress

A researcher of the supernatural, Isaac Soto, stumbles across an unregistered bloodborn in the Broken Coast region. When he reports the creature, hoping to prevent someone from being the next victim, he finds out that maybe he should have been more worried about himself.

Phagophobia

Genre(s): Urban/Paranormal fantasy, vampires, post-apocalyptic, whump-ish

Status: Redraft in progress

Living isn't always a mercy, but Isaac Soto will take what he can get. Storm season makes fleeing from the Broken Coast and the bloodborn he met there difficult. Said bloodborn somehow knowing his every move makes it nigh impossible. Hiding in one of the few western cities to survive the break, Isaac makes a stand, a deal, and ultimately a decision that will shape the rest of his life.

The Primrose Path

Genre(s): High fantasy, romance/erotica

Status: Rough draft in progress

When his village is taken captive by an enemy nation, Illuminator Ân's priority is to make sure his people survive to fight another day. Faced with everything he's stood against as a priest of Cyanos, god of light and life, Ân prays for the strength to overcome and do what he must. It's not long before he receives signs that his petitions have been heard. Just not by the deity he serves.

Beyond & Between

Genre(s): High fantasy, portal fantasy, whump

Status: Occasional, out-of-order updates

Sail beyond where the seas turn red, until the sky is filled with unfamiliar stars, to the lands between realities. Magic and the power to leave one's old life behind awaits for those brave enough to seek it.

Beyond & Between is a collection of stories set in the strange places settled by ancient people, deities, and creatures from Earth who fell through the cracks.

Whumptober 2022

Each prompt followed by the story series it's set in and the MC. Content guidelines at the start of each story.

#writeblr #writeblr intro #writeblr community #writing masterpost #wip intro #writers on tumblr

[materassassino]

WIP Wednesday

Am I a week late? Yes. I forgot. I'm sorry. BUT! Today is a Wednesday, so I can make up for it.

Tagged in the circle by @emmalostinwonderland

Sharing a different Old Guard fic this time, one I'm procrastinating because of all the research I have to do for it.

One final, snatched kiss and they step away from each other, the last thing to release is their hands. It is agony to turn away, and Nicoló keeps looking back, over his shoulder. Yusuf, he can see, does the same, until the sun drenches the land in the pinks and light reds of full dawn and the cliffs of the wadi separate them. Finally Nicoló turns away, head bowed. Quynh is surprisingly quiet through all this. Nicoló chances a look at her, and for once there is no glint of mischief in her eyes, just a small, indulgent smile. “We must look quite pathetic,” he murmurs. “It’s young love,” she says, squeezing his arm fondly. “It is new and bright and beautiful and you’ve never felt anything like it before, have you?” Nicoló shakes his head, flushing slightly. No one has ever moved his heart like Yusuf has, changing the very shape of life for him. “It’s easy to lose yourself in it,” Quynh says, and she sounds like she knows how it feels. “It can devour you, drown you in it until you forget who you ever were without it. He may complete you, Nico, he may be the other half of your soul, but you must also be yourself even without him.” The prospect isn’t appealing at all, and Nicoló says so. Quynh’s smile is a little pitying now, and it rankles. “I mean it. When I met Andromache, I knew I’d found the person I would love for the rest of my life. It was perfect, it was fire and madness, and I realised that if I continued like this, I would lose myself. I would forget to be Quynh. So we separated, walked different paths for twenty years. And I remembered who I was, what I could do alone.” She releases Nicoló’s arm and dashes up a boulder on the side of the path, standing atop it like a mighty conqueror. “I was Quynh! Tiger of Au Lac! Scourge of Nanyue! The Heavenly Arrow of Lam Ap! I still am! Quynh of the mighty bow and fast daggers! She who laughs as she kills!” With a snarling laugh she leaps from the rock and lands beside him, and he can’t help but smile at her. “And I am still Andromache’s, as well. When we reunited, it was all the sweeter. Knowing who I was alone helped me love her more.”

Trying to explore any differences between Andromaquynh and Joenicky and also because I want to write reunion sex. This entire fic came about because I had a mental image of Nicky and Joe rolling down a sand dune as they kiss, which amused me.

Tagging uhhhhh @non-un-topo @dangerouscommiesubversive and @veradragonjedi

#wip wednesdays #pixie writes #the old guard #joenicky #andromaquynh