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#i am but mortal and i have too many wips
critterbitter · 5 months
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Note: I already have a queue lined up, but this would help give insight on what to feed you guys next week. Like prepping birdseed for pidgeys in a park!
(Have fun submas takes? Hot head cannons? Criminal thoughts that are begging to be released into the chasm of my canvas?
Feel free to scream them here! I am Listening.)
Link to submas masterpost btw!
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synonymroll648 · 9 months
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absolutely evil fic idea! sophitz soulmates au where post-war they reconcile but also find out that fitz won't make it to 100 due to the severity of his shadowflux echoes and the reason sophie kept surviving seemingly impossible odds was because the black swan 'accidentally' made her immortal.
to make things extra cruel: consider how fitz canonically counts on having thousands of years ahead of him to build himself a future he enjoys, and how sophie canonically struggles w/ the idea of living forever due to her human upbringing (plus the canon-compliant possibility of her hearing ten bajillion tales growing up of how immortality is a curse) :D
#i love love love soulmate au's. usually for the fluff. but this. this...#this intrigues me conceptually so much that i think exploring it would be worth the pain#i have way too many wips rn to write this. but#that doesn't mean i can't share it w/ you guys :)#i just keep thinking of how the tables of 'fitz comforting sophie about living forever because he'll be there' will flip#and it could flip in SO many ways#it could be sophie comforting fitz about death being inevitable because she grew up around death#and knows that death can be a well deserved (fairly) happy ending if fate is kind enough and you play your cards right#but it could also be them being so so so openly envious of each other's lifespans#like we could have a screaming match in the dead of night where fitz is like#how the FUCK is it fair that we both have echoes but I'M the only one that's doomed to die young because of them? how the HELL do you have#ANY right to speak on this? on how i should deal w/ having THOUSANDS OF YEARS RIPPED OUT OF MY HANDS?#and sophie's like well i don't know fitz! how the FUCK is it fair that you're the one that gets to have a finish line? how the HELL am i#supposed to be happy about NEVER getting to stop? about ALWAYS having to be the moonlark? about INEVITABLY LOSING EVERYONE I LOVE BECAUSE#THEY'LL BE DEAD?#honestly you could have both. you SHOULD have both. imo. hurt/comfort babyyyyy#also. if you want. you can have this be a thing where the immortal falls in love w/ the same soul again#but fitz never comes back as an elf. always something mortal#also when fitz dies. having a throwback to the search and having one of them go 'fuck time. fuck death. i'll find you again and again'#less 'death cannot do us apart' and more 'death can only separate us temporarily'#also. sophie having to watch fitz deteriorate from the golden boy she knew to barely hanging on to life. and fitz having to deal w/#sophie never changing in any physical way#don't you love feeling sad guys? angsty if you will? /t#sophitz#sophie foster#fitz vacker#kotlc#keeper of the lost cities#kotlc fic idea#sophitz fic idea
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iheartgod175 · 2 months
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Some Thoughts (Mostly ZP, but still)…
—I’ve kinda hopped back onto the Zula Patrol train again since writing Turnabout, but I am planning on doing art and stories for other fandoms, too, of course ^^ I actually worked on chapter 4 of DCR and some more of Love Language for the first time in a month! Which is amazing progress since I had both writer’s block and worries that maybe a lot of folks aren’t interested in the story. But even if that were true, it’s not going to stop me from posting stories, especially about my favorite childhood show ^^
—I went a bit in depth about an OC who gets some focus in both DCR and a few other entries, Firestorm, who’s a military commander in one of the other Zulean branches (I’ll detail my own headcanons on the structure of the Zulean government in another headcanons post) and is one of the few people that Bula gets along with outside of his team because like him, she doesn’t tolerate the BS/corruption that goes on in the government. And somehow, I got the idea that in an alternate universe, they end up as a couple. It has me cracking up because now, I have three potential love interests for Bula: Zeeter (with whom I can see happening even in canon), Bonnie (my old OC whom I’ve revamped and even have a solo story for), and now Firestorm (who might get teased in the future). Bula’s literally building his own harem, LOL XD
—And then it got me thinking that if Bula’s a typical “clueless harem protagonist” (although unlike them, he makes himself useful and isn’t admired due to some random skill he has out of nowhere), Ricochet would be the “smug harem protagonist with a heart of gold” in that he dated Denise, Diane, Melissa, and many other women before he settled down. Also, in a few AUs, he does have a better relationship with Serena, Denise’s outlaw sister, and their relationship borders on UST. Silly thoughts are silly, LOL
—I’ve also had an idea regarding the Third Sight ability. Originally, this ability has no offensive capability in any field whatsoever. But then I had a thought: what if there was a way, theoretically, that a user could hurt/even kill someone with their mind? It came about from a thought that DS! Elfilis (with whom Multo interacts with in my latest crossover) could totally do this easily, since he’s basically seen as a god (although he’s mortal) and he’s a lot more powerful/experienced with his psychic powers. Not to mention that between him and Multo, his cruel streak is not only bigger, but also more terrifying. It got me thinking that the Zuleans who have the Third Sight can do this same thing, namely in a moment of pure distress/fury, stemming from the desire to make the perpetrator feel every ounce of pain they felt at watching their loved one get hurt/killed. The name for this attack is called “Flashpoint” (or at least, it’s a working idea for a name). I had the idea that Multo accidentally stumbles across this ability after someone got the great (read: stupid) idea to hurt Zeeter or any of the others in front of him, and unable to physically defend them (due to being trapped), he’s filled with both horror at his loved ones being hurt, and pure rage at the perp, wanting nothing but for him to feel that same pain and worse. Cue that happening to the perp, with the guy literally losing his mind. With Multo being the kind of person he is, he’s shocked/horrified that he can do such a thing. One of the villains in my current WIP, Nova, takes an interest in Multo after finding out about him using this.
—And now, a part of me wants to do an alternative version of Multo that’s evil. That would be pretty terrifying. O.O
—Oh, I’m also thinking of getting back to The Return of the Phantom Empire soon, thanks to working on Firestorm’s profile. Just trying to work on the general plot of the side story, which focuses on Quick Draw McGraw, and possibly Quack-Up, namely in regards to the trauma he suffered before he joined the Galactic Guardians. This chapter isn’t gonna be quite as long as the first three chapters, but that might change, lol XD
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bonefall · 8 months
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Sorry, I'm a fucking idiot but what's Shadowsight's relationship with the Dakr Forest Peeps??? Somehow Don't know how to search properly 😭😭😭
OH dw djrhddj it's kind of an inside joke that just sorta happened based on this one scene
Here, I am handing you a bouquet of WIP material.
PREVIOUS CONTEXT:
In BB, Bristlefrost dies VERY early on. She is executed publically by the Impostor. She is a ghost for most of TBC.
Shadowsight has epilepsy, and since his birth in Heartstar's Rise, has had a really bad relationship with death and the idea of needing to "make his life worth it."
He's struck by lightning in early TBC, giving him a glowing blue scar that lights up his ear like radio antennae. This is a "gift" from Ashfur, essentially making Shadowsight a prophet-level interpreter. VERY powerful gift.
All Dark Forest residents manifest a "Land Mar" in the forest. An evil magic place based on the worst moment of their lives. If you live here long enough that it becomes home, you get one.
Anyway, cut ahead to the wip in question where the joke comes from;
Confronting the Impostor in the Dark Forest
Like canon, it is decided that Ashfur needs to be dealt with. He's escaped into the Dark Forest and it's not known what's happened with StarClan.
They just know that Ashfur is FREAKISHLY powerful and it's not known why. StarClan warriors can do many wonderful things, but possession? Calling down a lightning bolt to make a blessing?
The Clans are more concerned about StarClan than the dark forest though, and not super willing to stick their necks out to fight for... Hell. Or the soul of Bramblestar.
But Squirrelflight, in spite of EVERYTHING, argues passionately that they NEED to save her ex-mate. No man left behind means him too.
But I'm not sure if I'm going to have Shadowsight leave and re-enter the DF this time around, to go fetch these reinforcements, because I have a better idea.
So INSTEAD of escaping as Rootspring gets captured, Shadowsight also gets trapped. He's able to avoid capture, but injured, and not knowing how he's going to save everyone without reinforcements.
He manages to drag himself away where he finds a cave. It's the land mar of Ravenwing, the unfairly damned Cleric of ThunderClan... and he intentionally never seeks visitors. He has no idea what's going on out there with Ashfur. Man literally lives under a rock.
But Shadowsight is a young lad and he's injured. He needs help, so, he brings him deep into his cave to patch him up. That's where they have a little chat.
It's about expectations. What people want from you, vs the right thing to do. Ravenwing interpreted a sign from StarClan incorrectly, and three children died because of him. He thought he was doing what they wanted... but even if they did, it was an AWFUL thing to want.
And so he regrets it deeply. Even if it WAS their will, he should have had the spine to stand against it.
And then the subject turns around to Ashfur, Shadowsight sharing how he listened to him because he was a StarClan warrior, even against his instincts, how he feels responsible for this mess.
And yet.. how good it felt. How terrified he is that even if he beats him, he'll go back to living without him. Ashfur makes him special, this GIFT makes him special.
And how will anyone ever forgive him? So many people are dead because of him. Cousin Strikestone is dead because of him. All he ever wanted to do was be useful, but now his life is a net negative.
I plan to trim this down to be shorter and more "focused," but I do want to try and set up Shadowsight's feelings before the Final Battle in some other way.
Anyway, Ravenwing reveals that the Special Power of his Land Mar is that HE can send omens from the comfort of his own cave, very easily. With the power of his Land Mar and the Gift that Shadowsight still has, they're able to send a message to the Mortal Plane.
"STUCK IN DARK FOREST ASHFUR BAD SEND HELP"
I think it'll work better than the several chapters of arguing canon gave us, widely considered to be super frustrating. Just let Shadowsight see the "best hits" from Ravenwing's cave, like Squirrelflight’s Speech.
If I don't use the Land Mar idea, then Rootspring will break out of jail with the help of Hawkfrost's half-ghost and go get help.
Anyway. The joke
Shadowsight keeps getting put in the path of demons who aren't evil and angels who aren't good
So based on the Ravenwing Scene (which I've mentioned before but without much detail iirc) it just became a joke that people like talking to Shadowsight lmao
He'll take 2 steps and a new demon is like "oh i need to protect this boy"
Or suddenly traumadump on him
Or both
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l0t4n · 3 months
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WHAT IF THEY WERE. WALTER WHITE
a/n I have many wips and I am struggling to finish any of them so you get this for now. Also keep in mind I never actually finished the show and I didn't like it anyways I just think the idea is funny. Posting as a buffer for everyone who did not follow for nsfw bc I'm posting it 2nite regardless watch out
Contains TW drugs, references to violence. What it says. Would they do the shit Walter White did in Breaking Bad? The brothers + dateables. Gn mc mentioned once
LUCIFER
-Yeah.
-He would do absolutely all of it step by step, word for word
-Maybe he would not be as mean as Walter is, but he would absolutely give that “I AM. The danger, Skylar” speech
-Just to MC instead
-And Mammon is Jesse
MAMMON
-I think in his head he would like to think he would/could
-Definitely fucking can't though
-Doesn't understand the chemistry even if someone guided him, would definitely fuck up really bad
-Would be in it for the money, would brag about how he'd make an excellent drug kingpin, is lying
-The moment he needs to shoot someone he's running away
LEVIATHAN
-Not a chance bro
-The closest he would get would be filling in the role of Gale
-Even then, that's a stretch
-It's too scary :(( what if all the drug mules think he's cringe
-Yeah sure he did all those illegal things but the police probably wouldn't care so much if he was cooler
-Absolutely not suited for the meth-making lifestyle
SATAN
-Wouldn't do it if it was his life on the line. Would only do it to get back at someone else
-Ruining Lucifer’s reputation by selling illicit substances out of the HoL
-Probably the most suitable for drug manufacturing. Not anything else though
-Would be the most likely to be despised by everyone else in the distribution chain
-It's a high-stress environment and he takes out his anger on all of them
ASMODEUS
-Personal protective equipment is ugly and the meth business is a thankless one. There is no possibility for him to gain fame and attention doing that unless he also wants to go to prison
-Probably finds it kind of gross and messy too
-There are a number of illegal activities that are far better suited for a demon like him and he knows it
BEELZEBUB
-Eats the meth
-The end
BELPHEGOR
-Perhaps unsurprisingly, would likely have both the intelligence and personality to make it work
-But the meth-making process takes forever, and there are so many points where you can accidentally die, so I think he knows better
-Would accidentally fall asleep and melt his skin off his body
-Also has virtually no reason to do it in the first place; isn't hurting for cash like Mammon and doesn't really care about his reputation like Lucifer
DIAVOLO
-Would have trouble grasping the severity of drug manufacturing and dealing
-Might only get into the scheme if coaxed by the promise of friendship
-I do not put it above him to realize that it is also illegal, however
-Albeit he has had his moments of considering himself above the law, which, if anyone is, it's him, so maybe not
-Will bail the moment someone yells at him or pulls a gun on him, whatever happens first
BARBATOS
-Gus
-His moral alignment and motivations are too vague. Either his moral compass is too strong or he would be the best drug kingpin the devildom has ever seen. Maybe both at the same time
-Would get suitably angry if anyone else got involved though
-Money laundering pro. If nothing else is true I know this is canon
SIMEON
-Oh good heavens
-Deary me
-Maybe with his skills in baking he would do well, but you'd need to lie to him about what you're making
-Shocked and appalled when he finds out
-Most everyone else is nice to him though
SOLOMON
-Probably makes illicit substances for his funny evil wizard experiments
-Since it's a form of cooking though the batches always end up terrible
-Meth that makes all your bones turn to jelly and kills you in five days
-Since he is far removed from human matters of mortality and injury, he probably thinks it's funny
-Evil ass
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vacantgodling · 3 months
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oc kiss week day 1: almost
WIP: the chronicles of lathsbury (tcol)
SHIP: arian bloom (pre-guardian days; he/him, bard) x evondra (pre-demon king days, she/her, beast)
SUMMARY: arian visits evondra at her nest and reminisces on their quietly budding romance. what else can he call this feeling but love?
note: this is a flashback scene and takes place 300 years before the main story begins, which also means this is when arian is still mortal :P also monster x terranean (human but to the left) but tender tm
The illusions that the Labyrinth could conjure were always beautiful to behold. 
Arian stood staring out into the seemingly vast landscape of desert before him. Miles and miles of sand that wasn’t truly there. He could try and stray left, or stray right, but the walls of this beautiful prison were tall and rigid, and kept him on his course. That was okay with him, he wasn’t here today to take in the sights—here instead, to follow this particular branch of tunnels until he was finally at her nest. 
They had come close now, at least several times that Arian could remember; inching towards almost too many to count. Close to acknowledging what feelings fluttered behind Arian’s breast when he caught a glimpse of that sweet, toothy thing he’d named her smile. Towards what made his palms sweat when she asked him, in the most gentle voice she could muster, to play his lute. Twice now he’d fallen asleep at her behest and awoke to her shimmering eyes watching him, carefully and with something he privately named adoration caressing her expression. Perhaps it was just his unwavering romanticism spreading its wings towards Palanthia*… or perhaps it was grounded in some reality.
Either way, he marched, following the trail along. Occasionally he would pause when he felt a fork in the tunnels and consulted the map he’d drawn. It’d taken nearly a year to get one this detailed—aided by her steady, knowing hands to draw the paths. She’d simply covered his with her own and closed her eyes, humming so deep that it was both an earthquake and a melody. A seismic sense, she’d explained to him, to feel her way through the tunnels no matter what magic or images the Labyrinth showed her. 
“Soon, I hope you can find me on your own.” She’d said and she carded a long claw through his locked hair. “Instead of I, always having to come find you.” Arian giggled under her ministrations and allowed himself to ease back into her. It was a wonder that she had begun to show him her many forms; this one was large and bipedal, a mixture of fur and skin intermingling her body. The fur of her chest was soft and the skin of her breast softer, softer than any silk or newborn babe he had ever held. “Perhaps if you hum.” Arian said back. “Your songs are more beautiful than anything I’ve ever beheld.”
“They are not songs.” She’d said with a tut, but if he glimpsed her face, she was smiling that toothy smile. “But I am glad to sing them for you.” 
It could’ve been hours or days that he wandered down this hall—time in The Labyrinth was hard to determine, but Arian didn’t mind for he still felt as young and emboldened by love as he always was—until he stood before what she’d described: the winding vines of silver ivy that bloomed green flowers that smelled of summertime. It appeared out of place; this greenery among this desert illusion, but the moment he touched the ivy, it melted away until he was back in the green, shadowy halls. 
“My love?” Arian called. “Evondra?” 
A deep rumble sounded from within the nest, and suddenly Arian was tackled to the floor; his arms only just nimble enough to catch the beast-princess in her slighter form, which still towered over him when they stood astride one another. Her long, black tresses tumbled behind her in waves, then fell around them in the sand of the illusion reconjured after his hand left her nesting door. Her eyes were bright with excitement, the weight of her fall pressed her nose to his, and he could feel the small pants of her breath on his lips. So close… yet not close enough.
“Evie, my love!” He laughed joyfully instead, and oh, how easy it would be to tilt his head up and capture her lips. How he longed to—desperate to spill his feelings out into the world of the physical instead of keeping them contained behind his ribs. But did she even show affection that way? There was so much to consider when entangling in this delicate, dangerous game their hearts were entrenched in. But it didn’t feel anything but saccharine, sweet.
“Its so good to see you.” He said, sincerely, holding his tongue.
“You took so long.” She said with a pout, yet her eyes flickered, from his lips, then back to his eyes, slowly enough, seemingly so he would see it. He felt his dark cheeks bloom with a welcome warmth of blush. “And I have missed you greatly.” 
“Greatly! There’s a word, my love. You’re learning Aegean beautifully.” Evondra sat up, and took the warmth of her and her hair with him, perched just so on his lap. “Of course!” She said. “Father has been….” The furry, beastly ears that were still present atop of her head pressed down, blending into it seamlessly. “Insistent. But he is impressed with my progress, thanks to you, Aria.” 
The unspoken in the room—the marriage she was supposed to have with a noble Terranean… Arain could bring it up. But why speak of rain when the sun was still shining? Why worry about tomorrow, when one of her claws closed over his to draw him up, back towards this secret nest that she’d never let anyone see.
Why worry about the consequences of their love, if the almosts set his soul ablaze? 
####
*Palanthia = Palanthia is the personification of hope in Terranean mythology. It’s usually depicted as the goddess MUINENS’s shield, but is occasionally referred to as though it were a place or a state of being. The city Wish of Palanthia was named for this, as Palanthia was born out of the first and only Terranean civil war.
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raiswanson · 4 months
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so I may have decided to work on a short (or...a series of shorts) that serves as backstory/a prequel to another cluster of WIPs, instead of working on the WIPs themselves, and--
-drops a gift- uh merry christmas happy new year idk -sprints away-
Another snippet shared in [this] post!
~~~
“I plead for your protection, honored one. For safety.” I wet my lips, all too aware of how many eyes were watching from the corners of the room. “My family aims to send me away for their own gain, but I wish for happiness. I will not sacrifice myself for them.”
A low chuckle rumbled through the roost. “Are familial ties not precious to mortals? Do you not consider such sacrifice to be your duty?” He asked, amber eyes glowing through the thin curtain.
I stood taller before realizing it could be taken as defiance and tipped my head forward again. “This mortal does not,” I said through gritted teeth. My hands trembled as I reached for my collar—not from fear, from rage—and unbuttoned it to reveal my throat, still ringed in vibrant bruises from choking fingers. “I’ve given enough in the name of family. I desire only freedom.”
Silence answered. Long enough that my gaze slid toward the attending priests, certain I’d been dismissed before I could finish pleading my case. But no, their eyes remained on the curtain. Waiting. Listening. I took a steadying breath and remained on the platform, tapping out the seconds on my knuckles.
“Why have you come here, to me?” He asked finally, and I was surprised to hear what could almost be genuine curiosity in His voice. “My sister by the sea is better known for offering safety to those who plead her favor, and I am certainly not known for the same generosity. Yet you made the long, hard journey to my cliffs instead. You will find little protection here. Seekers come to me for vengeance. Power. I fear you’ve come to the wrong place, mortal.”
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space-writes · 1 year
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hi writeblr! i’ve been kicking around on here for the hottest of minutes, but this is the first time i’ve decided to start actively posting about my writing. (this is a sideblog; you can find my main @thespacelizard, and i follow from there)
about me!
I go by Space, my pronouns are they/he, and I’m staring down the barrel of 30 with grim determination. My current pseudonyms are A.L. Thorne (for my fantasy writing), and A.L. Dusk (for my queer erotica)
Aside from being a writer I’m also an artist and a Forever DM, and I love to come up with wild characters for my campaign and then complain that I have to draw them because there is no picrew in existence that can make them.
I write a lot of fanfiction, and I post about my current ongoing series on my main blog. I intend to keep my fic writing there, and my original writing here, but if you’re interested in an m/m erotic romance featuring d/s dynamics and drow wizards engaged in deeply frustrating mutual pining, the tag over there is obedience fic blogging and the series is on AO3 here
I otherwise write fantasy novels, because I am, at heart, a Weird Dragon Kid. I also like to, of late, make them queer as hell, because I too am queer as hell, and I want to write about queer characters having all the adventures I usually read straight cis characters having.
I am a big fan of playing in the traditional fantasy tropes aisle, and whilst I do love unique fantasy worlds, there’s something about a classic set of wizards and dragons that just makes my heart happy.
My writing style is fairly lighthearted but the heart still beats quite sincerely. You’ll find fantastical places, characters who all have something Fundamentally Wrong With Them, and more one-liners than strictly necessary.
current wips!
Chronicles of Valloroth
This is the main (read: only) thing I’m working on at present, and it exists because I read too many Drizzt books over lockdown, got brainworms, and then decided to write my own take.
The series features: knock-off tieflings, a grumpy assassin and a sparkly mercenary in a rivals-to-lovers arc, knock-off dragonborn, found family, gods with very mortal foibles, A Whole Entire Dragon, magical mishaps, and an entire cast of queer disasters.
not everyone in this book is trans, but there is So Much Gender in here. it’s not a trans book, but it has trans bones, and not just because I, A Trans, am writing it.
It’s basically ‘what if The Legend of Drizzt but Gay and Also Trans? what then?’
I'll be posting a wip intro for the first book soon!
My current goal is re-drafting the first book, and getting all my outlining and zero drafts finished for books two and three. I write a lot, and I write quite fast, but good god there are so many words to get down. Just. An absolutely ridiculous amount of words.
what’s on this blog?
I intend to post about my writing progress, my characters, my worldbuilding; lots of things to help keep me motivated and to (hopefully) drag other people into Caring Too Much About These Blorbos Hell with me.
Hey, it worked for Obedience and now at least three other people are yelling at those drow boys with me. trust me. yelling at my characters is a fun hobby we can all share together.
You can expect to see:
snippets of my notes (and probably chatter about Obsidian.md, which is what I write everything in, and is my favourite notes app of all the notes apps)
Thoughts About Blorbos
character art and playlists (some of which I will probably even draw myself, because when you can draw, you simply must draw your ocs and show them to everyone)
Thoughts About The Writing Process
And i will of course be reblogging every remotely relatable writing meme i come across (which is most of them)
tags!
#valloroth blogging (for all/general posts related to the series)
character posts will be #c: [character name]
#space has thoughts (for writing thoughts, and suchlike)
you can find me elsewhere on tumblr @thespacelizard (main blog), and @incoherentmuses (art blog). i’m also on twitter @/degenerate_DM (for writing posts) and @/incoherentmuses (for art posts)
over the next few days i’ll be posting a proper wip intro for Valloroth, and i am 100% looking for writing mutuals to yell about words with. I’m also very open to ask/tag games!
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worldstogetlostin · 28 days
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WIP Questionnaire
Thanks @wintherlywords for the tag, this looks like fun! I've left a copy of the clean slate of questions below
Rules: Answer as many (or as few) of the questions about your WIP as you can.
1. What was the first part of your WIP that you created? The first part of the TGATWST I wrote was one of the endings of the three stories in the book lol, jumping right to the end. It's a scene where there is rain falling on a man's face and he, being in love with a god, feels it as an embrace from his lover - very sentimental and a bit mushy but what can I say, I'm a sucker for romance.
2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be? I think it would be like the music from The Hobbit or LoTR! Very instrumental and powerful, something that could move you.
3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why? Oop that would be like picking a favourite child and I'm not going into too much detail on this WWIP as of yet (still in the very early stages and wondering if it will survive) but I definitely have characters whose voices I have figured out better than others.
4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story? The Hobbit, LoTR seeing as they're huge inspirations for me in everything I do lol. Maybe the inheritance Cycle and books like it? Honestly difficult to imagine anything I write having a fan base but if I had to give it a vibe I'd go with those!
5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP? Motivation, every time. I have a demanding job and exams and I'm currently in the legal process of getting a house so lots of exciting things going on that usually mean I have no energy left for writing!
6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them! Horses, cows and beasts lol, the WIP is set in medieval times (fantasy of course) so animals are a big part of the world, but not a huge part of the actual story.
7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.) Horses, walking, some carriages for those with a little extra coin who fancy living the high life
8. What part of your WIP are you working on rn? The end of the beginning, and the beginning of the middle, which is a strange sentence to write.
9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your WIP do you think will draw people in? Gods and mortals and the relationships between them, found family vibes, self-loathing characters finding redemption, soldiers finding and losing faith, and lots of queer representation
10. What are your hopes for your WIP? That I can actually finish it and have it be something I am proud of.
I'll go ahead and tag (with no pressure) @verba-writing @elizaellwrites @writingmoth and @ceph-the-ghost-writer and anyone else who wants to have a go!
1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?
2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?
3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?
4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?
5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?
6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!
7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)
8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?
9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?
10. What are your hopes for your wip?
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faeriecinna · 1 month
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WIP Questionnaire
Thank you for the tag @buffythevampirelover !
Project.Seraph :)
1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?
The character of Nevaeh was my leap of faith into this one. Previously I had only ever really written horror/thriller and I had always been too afraid to create my own fantasy world, but for some reason I just couldn't leave the idea of my broken little angel alone. The more I imagined her in different scenarios and fleshed out different characters and a plot, I knew I had to write it seriously or I'd never forgive myself.
2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?
Honestly I really fuck with Plenty by Aeseaes for this one. The whole vibe is immaculate and it really encapsulates the mood of the story through the lyrics.
3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?
I truly love them all for different reasons (except maybe Marco, fuck you Marco.) Though Nevaeh is my sweet innocent angel baby could never do anything wrong ever loml, and Queen Reinette is a favourite because I adore a good villain and I am very proud of the way I've written her character.
4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?
I'm hoping the same kind of people who tore through Cassandra Clare's The Mortal Instruments will find my books to be worth of a good read. Also my fellow 'Merlin made me realise I was queer' pals. Not quite as high fantasy but I think P.Seraph is sometimes quite reminiscent of The Witcher too.
5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?
There are so many scenes that I've already imagined and desperately want to write, so writing everything in between to bridge the scenes together is so painful lmao. What do you mean I have to write about the journey to the castle before I get to write my big dramatic inciting incident???
6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!
A lot of the first half is based in the woodland so many animals are encountered, though crows and various other corvids are a recurring motif. Also a lot of horses! Most characters travel by horse, including my little band of travelling thieves and the Queen's guards. In the marketplace there is also a very well known cat that belongs to the tavern-owner and likes to steal from people's stalls lmao
7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)
Mostly by foot, by horse, or by a carriage drawn by a horse.
8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?
Still the first draft rn but it's coming along smoothly. I have also been writing Project.Ink and fleshing out Project.Claw so I haven't been dedicating quite as much time to P.Seraph as I would like.
9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?
Who doesn't love a good enemies to lovers, right? This story absolutely reeks of betrayal, dark royalty, doomed love, war.... idk it has everything in it that I wanted to read all in one story and I hoped some people could relate
10. What are your hopes for your wip?
Obviously, I hope to be published one day, and if it is, my hope is that it will be one of those books that leaves people reeling after they've read it. I want people to connect to it, to cry over it, to read it so many times it doubles in size. I want people to be as violently in love with my characters as I am and I want people to relate to the story in whichever way they see fit. I want it to mean something to someone. One day. Eventually.
no pressure tags for @melpomene-grey, @goldxdarkness, @darkangel319 :)
Blank under the cut
1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?
2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?
3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?
4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?
5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?
6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!
7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)
8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?
9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?
10. What are your hopes for your wip?
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argisthebulwark · 1 month
Text
Ao3 20 Questions
thank you @kagedbird for the tag!! <3<3 i will tag some friends @daedrabait @miraakswhore @somethingscarlet13 @queerbashir if u wanna participate <3
How many works do you currently have on ao3? Currently 25. holy shit, i thought it was more than that lol
What's your total ao3 word count? 98,336. Used to be like 200k before i cleaned out some old works i didn't care for anymore.
What fandoms do you write for? Skyrim and Star Trek TOS & AOS
What are your top five fics by kudos? Sorry Lass, Make Me Feel Mortal, Don't Shut Me Out, Fascinating, and Destroy Rebuild
Do you respond to comments? Sometimes! Honestly it depends on whether or not i'm online and see them. if i don't respond right away it feels rude to respond weeks after the fact, but for repeat commenters or usernames i recognize i try to!
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Idk i used to like to emotionally beat up Jim a lot, so probably one of the short stories where i explore all his traumas
What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably Sorry, Lass. I originally wrote it in 2015 and i'm fairly certain it ends with a mushy marriage scene.
Do you get hate on fics? Surprisingly, no. I think i got a few rude comments back when i first started, but honestly everyone's been too kind to me.
Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Hell yeah brother that's what i do!! I love angsty, emotionally charged smut. my personal favorite to write is angry, hatefuck type of stuff. or when they're using it to avoid talking about feelings.
Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Not that i've ever posted lmao. I don't usually post non canon compliant fics for whatever fandom i'm working in.
Have you ever had a fic stolen? Kinda. a few years ago someone let me know that my work had been reposted to a fic site i don't use and one quick message got them to take it down. Also, i once posted a fic as a one off, forgot that i'd done that, and used the same scene much later in a larger story - and some nice commenter on the original let me know that someone had stolen my idea lmao
Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope, never had anyone request that and don't want to do so incorrectly.
Have you ever cowritten a fic? Kind of? an old friend and i used to write separate chapters of our self insert marvel fics and mush them together into one story lol. never posted it anywhere, it was just shared emails and google docs.
What's your all time favorite ship? God, that's hard. probably McKirk. as i've gotten older and unlearned all the internal shame about self inserts it's gotten easier to do a self insert story instead of an established pair.
What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Every few weeks i pluck away at my regency au Miraak fic. i don't think i'll ever actually finish it because it's just so big in my head it's hard to get on paper, but i hope i do someday.
What are your writing strengths? I'm very comfortable writing sex scenes. I think that often when the author is uncomfortable about writing explicit sex the reader can really feel it in the story and i put in a lot of work to get over those mental hurdles. i've been told i'm good at characterization, which is awesome! i love getting in a character's head!
What are your writing weaknesses? Very often i find myself bogged down with the need to describe every little scene. it's a major reason i haven't posted a longfic in a while - i want to write these big stories but find myself getting lost in the little details. i also have a terrible habit of editing myself while i'm writing, which just gets me stuck in an unproductive loop.
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Since i'm only fluent in English, this isn't something i am confident in. i've written in a few fictional languages for fics before but would probably reach out or suggest another author if a reader wanted something that heavily involved this.
First fandom you wrote for? Twilight babey!!! self insert oc to smooch Edward Cullen when i was a little middle schooler!!! i didn't know what fanfiction was but i knew i had a big ol crush on him.
Favorite fic you've written? not to be cringe on main, but most of my favorites are things that never got published. they're the little things still hanging out in my google docs that i go back to over and over. i rewrote all of star trek into darkness word for word just to make bones and jim kiss, i made a self insert just to smooch skurge after hyperfixating on thor ragnarok, and the weird time a few months ago where i wrote like 40k words of a cowboy romance. i read them often and wish that i'd written more on many of them but i do not read my published works.
thanks to anyone who read my rambling lmao. love you all sososo much, thank you for reading my silly little stories and caring about them. <3<3<3
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ultfreakme · 5 months
Note
do you plan to write an itajun fic some day?
I do! I can feel myself building towards it(though it is probably ill-advised ahaha i have so many WIPs).
I have a couple of ideas but I don't have a concrete direction yet and am hesitant because I only just got back into JJK and I don't really feel like I get them as characters just yet. BUT, if it feels like too much to wait for, I'll list my 3 main ideas!
Junpei transfers to Sendai and Yuuji & Junpei know each other before the Sukuna Finger eating: I have a few scenes in my head for this one! Yuuji going to visit the hospital with his grandpa and Junpei's there to get checked for the burns on his forehead. Junpei's teacher telling him its mandatory that he joins a club, Yuuji overhearing it and inviting him to the occult club. Yuuji and his senpais with Junpei watching horror movies together. Them under a cherry blossom tree because this is high school romance baby and those things are MANDATORY.
Junpei lives through Mahito transfiguring him and Mahito takes him: The idea is that Junpei survives the transfiguration, Mahito gets curious and takes him with him when he escapes and realizes Junpei's got like one more try left before he does die. But Kenjaku interferes and tells Mahito that they should keep Junpei alive and test out just how far Junpei's technique can go. Kenjaku is curios to see just how far he can evolve a human, and how much farther this evolution can go during the Culling Games. So, Junpei threatens to just kill himself BUT Kenjaku takes him alone and promises him that he'll get a chance to avenge his mom by killing Mahito if he allows Mahito to experiment on him now. Make Mahito give him the power to kill him. Win-win!(He's lying just to get Junpei complicit and put him in a headspace where he'll care about power). Flash-forward to Culling Games, Yuuji is scrolling through the competitors and sees Junpei's name on it and on confrontation, I have scene in my head: Multiple small jellyfish the size of a palm floating down around the rubble like bubbles, Junpei standing at a distance watching the jellyfish shikigami float, as if he's waiting for something. Yuuji calls his name, Junpei looks at him with a small smile and calls his name back. I like the idea because Junpei is the CLASSIC trope for 'dead girlfriend' and character who's romanticized and remembered wrong after death. Yuuji doesn't know him and he was definitely looking at him through rose-tinted glasses. So Yuuji confronting this boy he romanticized and treasured in his mind in some untouchable corner and finally truly getting to know him was very fun for me. Also because in a way, Yuuji and Junpei are the first official candidates for the Culling Games (Kenjaku made Yuuji and orchestrated Junpei getting powers).
Junpei lives canon rewrite! BUT! Junpei has a million restrictions. Headcanoning that Mahito made it so that Junpei's technique when first made was taught to be most effective against humans and sorcerers, so in order to keep Junpei alive, Gojo sorta negotiates to the Jujutsu Tech higher-ups that Junpei can act as a curse user assassin and more of an undercover operative who will face humans more than curses. Which means.....killing humans. But lucky for Junpei, he needs to be trained before being sent on real missions and if in this time period, he can prove that he can defeat a Grade 3 curse and higher consistently for a certain amount of missions, alone, he should be accepted as a regular sorcerer. So it's sort of a race against the clock for Junpei to figure out how to make his technique more useful against curses than humans. Yuuji's involved in helping him channel his cursed energy in a more physical hand-to-hand combat manner and is finally faced with the absolute nightmare that is the jujutsu tech bureaucracy and is confronted with his own mortality and how they don't care about his individual life. Junpei and Yuuji basically bonding over their takes on what it means to value human life, navigating being newbies to the life of a Jujutsu Sorcerer, and dealing with the grief of losing family while trying to prove to the world that they deserve to exist. Now.....I don't want to write this....because I want to see these two have a happy ending and if I write this I'll have to rewrite the entire series or give them a sad ending by having Junpei die in Shibuya(imagine how tragic it'd be if Sukuna saved killing Junpei while he was destroying Shibuya to the final moment, slashing Junpei and THEN giving control back to Yuuji). They're both alive ending means I have to understand who's doing what in Shibuya Arc, where they are, wtf is going on in Culling Games, etc. So another reason I hesitate is because Cursed Techniques are very confusing to me. I don't have enough of a grasp on any of the JJK systems to write a convincing fic and I'm unfortunately, a sucker for detail. I think I might write the first idea, before I get around to the rest. Hopefully I can write something good but until then I hope the ideas are something entertaining to think about!
(Also, I have fic song vibes for them! The song is 'Sunset and Whale by Zhang Yuan and Vicky'. It has exactly one mid tier to terrible translation but from what I can gather, it shows the fleeting moment of meeting between two lovers through how a whale surfaces to see the sun, and how the sunlight shines on a whale, only for the sun to dip into the night and for the whale to sink back into the ocean only having the brief moments where they intersected. which hey! ItaJun vibes!).
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cilil · 1 year
Text
⊱ Author's Note: To commemorate the destruction of the One Ring on March 25th TA 3019, I dug up and finished an old WIP from last year. Huge thanks to @sirsamuel for providing the idea that inspired me to write this.
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... 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎
"I want you to return this ring to the one Melkor exchanged it with."  Olórin glanced at the ring, hesitant to take it.  "I will do my best. Though I will have to ask... who is it that I am looking for?" "Do you remember a Maia named Mairon?"
⊱ Pairing: Angbang | Melkor/Mairon (past)
⊱ Characters: Olórin | Gandalf, Irmo | Lórien, Nienna, Mairon | Sauron, Melkor | Morgoth (mentioned), Aulë (mentioned), Manwë (mentioned), Eönwë (mentioned)
⊱ Synopsis: After Melkor was banished from Eä, Nienna asked Olórin to return his ring to Mairon. Many years later, Olórin remembers how another ring became Mairon's undoing and ponders the meaning of it.
⊱ Featuring: Olórin's POV, memories, married Angbang, tragic romance, angst & feels, hurt & comfort, a bit of philosophy and flower symbolism
⊱ Warnings: Mentions of death, background character death, grief/mourning
⊱ Long oneshot (~4k)
Also available on AO3
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The gardens were quiet save for the distant chirping of crickets and gentle tinkling of wind chimes. Moths and fireflies were fluttering and buzzing around Lórellin as if they were watching over the two Ainur who lingered by the lake in silence. 
Olórin was sitting at its edge, staring at the water in deep thought, and next to him was Irmo, his form slightly hunched over and his head lowered. He had fallen asleep a while ago, as he was prone to do when he stayed in one place for too long, and the Maia patiently waited for his lord to awaken again so they could continue their conversation. 
He hadn't seen the beauty of Lórien in almost an entire age, Olórin thought as he beheld his surroundings, nor had he gotten much rest during his mission in Middle-earth. Upon his return to Valinor, he had been welcomed with warmth, praise and admiration from his fellow Ainur and had done his best to care for his mortal friends in particular, making sure they were comfortable and received the healing they needed. It was only now that he finally found some peace and quiet in the gardens he had missed so dearly and reminisced about everything that had happened. 
A movement next to him caught his attention and he turned his head to see Irmo straightening his back with a big yawn, sleep clouding his purple eyes until they finally focused on the Maia facing him. 
"My apologies, Olórin, I didn't mean to fall asleep in the middle of our conversation. Did I miss something?" 
Olórin couldn't help smiling a little. He had missed Irmo's company during his stay in Middle-earth, though at least the Vala had occasionally sent his moths to check on him and assist him. 
"Don't worry, my lord. I haven't said anything in a while." 
Irmo seemed relieved and gracefully stretched his limbs, causing a bit of colourful, glittery dream dust to fall from his hair and robes. It twinkled on the ground like a galaxy of miniature stars before it vanished from existence as quickly as it had appeared. 
"Very well. Will you tell me now what is on your mind? Or would you prefer to sit here in silence?" he asked. 
Olórin was taken aback by the question. "I... I am not sure what you speak of." 
"It seems to me that some grief and uncertainty is lingering upon your fëa."
Irmo lifted his hand and reached between his locks, their colour currently a soft pale rose and cream. A couple of flowers were growing on his head, much to the delight of his little moth friends, and his fingers kept searching until he finally plucked a white chrysanthemum out of his hair and presented it to his Maiarin companion. 
Memories flashed in front of Olórin's inner eye as beheld its dainty petals, but it was one in particular that made its way to his consciousness, one that he had often pondered for the last few millennia. 
"There is something," he began, brows furrowing slightly as he focused on piecing the whole story back together in his mind; some of his memories as a Maia were still fuzzy after being hidden for so long. 
"I... I don't know how I should feel about it, my lord."
"Well," Irmo said, now fully awake and attentive, "you could tell me about it, if you like, and perhaps we may find an answer to that question together."
Olórin nodded and gingerly took the flower to hold in his hands. It was nice to have something to look at and ground him while memories of the past flitted through his restless fëa, something engulfed in the calm and soothing aura of the Vala whose domain was his home. And he knew Irmo would never judge him for his thoughts and feelings, he would listen and help him understand. 
Without further pretext, he began. 
"I suppose it began when Lady Nienna asked me for a favour many years ago..." 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Olórin found Nienna on the western shores of Aman, a few miles away from her Halls. Her fána stood completely still as she gazed at Ekkaia deep in thought, ignoring the cold waves lapping at her naked feet and the wind tugging at her veil. 
"My lady," Olórin greeted her in a quiet voice so he wouldn't disturb her musings and bowed his head. 
"You wished to speak with me?" 
Nienna turned her head to look at him, fresh tears glistening on her cheeks, and he could sense the Valië's grief weighing down on her fëa even more so than usual. He didn't need to ask why, he knew she was mourning Melkor's death and banishment from Eä. To her, he was a fallen brother, not an enemy to be destroyed, and no amount of rejoicing and reassurance from her fellow Valar would change her mind. 
"Yes," Nienna answered, her voice as gentle as ever and she motioned for him to come closer. 
"I have faith in you that you will be able to understand." 
Olórin didn't know what she was referring to, but he gladly accommodated her request and moved to stand with her, listening to the soothing sound of the sea and following her gaze to the Door of Night in the distance. 
"He is gone, isn't he?" he asked. While the entirety of Valinor was aware of what had happened, no one besides the Valar had been allowed to witness them carrying out their judgement. 
"He is," Nienna confirmed after a small pause. "Though I don't know how long he has been." 
Olórin gave her a puzzled glance. Without averting her eyes from the Door of Night, she explained, "Melkor hasn't been himself for quite a while. Perhaps you heard of his madness. However, I know he is still there, not only lost in the emptiness of the Void, but also the darkness of his own heart. I wish I could have given him peace, both for the sake of this world and his own, but..."
She shook her head, causing a few more tears to fall and flow down her cheeks like shimmering, liquid pearls. 
Olórin contemplated her words for a while until he noticed Nienna gracefully lifting her hand. Upon catching his attention, she held out her palm to show him what she had been carrying, a beautiful golden ring with an obsidian gem, held in place by finely crafted, intricate patterns depicting a dragon and a wolf. 
"This ring belonged to Melkor," she explained. "I felt like it was important to him, so I took it after his hröa was slain. I didn't want them to ask Aulë to destroy it."
"Does Lord Manwë not want it? He is his brother after all," Olórin asked shyly. He didn't want to sound like he was questioning the Valië's judgement, yet he couldn't help voicing his concern. 
"Perhaps," was Nienna's cryptic answer. Her eyes were now fixated on the ring and the weight of her gaze made him wonder what she knew about the significance of this trinket. "However, I feel like there is another Ainu this ring should be returned to instead."
"And who might that be, my lady?" 
Nienna smiled wistfully. "You see, my dear, Melkor was never one to reveal his secrets, not even to Manwë or me. He would never admit that there was someone who meant a lot to him. But there was... dreams and desires are Irmo's domain, and he discovered there was indeed someone very dear to Melkor." 
"You... you mean this ring is..." 
"His wedding ring, yes." 
Seeing Olórin's disbelief, she continued, "When Melkor was imprisoned in the Halls of Mandos for three ages, Irmo was tasked with watching over him alongside Námo. He later told me that a certain Ainu would show up in Melkor's dreams quite often, and he would often whisper his name. We agreed that we would keep his secret."
Olórin nodded pensively. 
"My lady, I am honoured that you trust me with this information, but I wonder–"
"Because I have a favour to ask of you." 
Nienna tore her gaze away from the ring in her palm to look at the Maia. 
"I want you to return this ring to the one Melkor exchanged it with." 
Olórin glanced at the ring, hesitant to take it. 
"I will do my best. Though I will have to ask... who is it that I am looking for?" 
"Do you remember a Maia named Mairon?" 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Olórin paused briefly to gather his thoughts. Even after so many years and everything that had happened since his fateful conversation with Nienna, the things she had revealed to him felt almost surreal. 
Irmo tilted his head to the side, appearing to see right through him. 
"Did my sister's words surprise you, Olórin? That these two, considered to be the greatest agents of evil upon Arda, could still love one another?" 
"Admittedly, yes. Though, of course I know none of us were born evil." 
"Indeed. Our Father gave us the ability to love, and without it, we might not have come here to shape and guard our beloved Arda. It drives most, if not all of us, but in different ways." 
Irmo was silent for a moment, allowing both Olórin and himself to contemplate his words, then spoke up again. 
"But no more of that for now. Please forgive my interruption and continue."
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
It had taken some time until Olórin was able to sense another Maia's presence in Middle-earth, and even longer to confirm it was indeed the one he was looking for. Unfortunately for him, he soon realised that Mairon was avoiding him, seemingly unwilling to be in the presence of one of his peers. 
He couldn't blame him. If Irmo and Nienna weren't mistaken–and he certainly had faith in their judgement–Mairon had become the second Ainu to lose their spouse, and Olórin remembered Melian's grief all too well. He felt a pang of guilt for chasing after him like this, but it couldn't be helped; and maybe the gesture of returning the ring to him could provide some closure at least. 
Nienna had warned him that Mairon would likely assume he was pursuing him after he had fled from Eönwë. Many were still clamouring for him to be captured and punished like his master–no, his husband, Olórin reminded himself–despite the herald firmly stating that he wouldn't hunt him down nor send someone else to do it, as he had no orders to do so. Such things were far from Olórin's mind as well; he was coming at Nienna's behest, wishing only to help and to heal, his fëa aching with pity for the fallen Maia. 
At last Mairon decided to face him in a secluded valley on the outskirts of what had once been Beleriand, now sunken below the ocean never to be seen again. His fána still bore the injuries of battle and his eyes shone fiercely as he was visibly angered by the arrival of another Maia. Unbridled rage and pain were bleeding from his fëa, nearly causing Olórin to recoil from his presence; he couldn't claim to have known Mairon well before his fall, but he had never seen him or any other Maia like this before. 
"To whom or what do I owe the pleasure of being chased by a lesser spirit such as yourself?" Mairon said in lieu of a greeting. His normally melodious voice sounded like the sharp hiss of a wounded animal. 
Olórin's fána shifted, now assuming an elvish appearance to replace the bird shape he had worn before. 
"Greetings, Mairon." 
It would be wise to ignore the insult, he decided, knowing full well why the other Maia was lashing out. He couldn't find it within himself to be angry with someone whose spirit was in such a pitiful state, plagued by hurt and confusion. 
"I am not here to attack or pursue you. I merely wish to give you something, then I will be on my way," Olórin said, raising his hands in what he hoped would be understood as a soothing gesture. 
Mairon's eyes were burning with hostility and distrust, but he stayed where he was, glaring at the other Maia. "And what would that be?"
"Something that belonged to Melkor." 
"You would dare touch something that was his?!" Mairon snapped, fiery sparks flying from his hair as his rage threatened to boil over. 
"Lady Nienna said you should have it," Olórin said as calmly as he could, though he felt his hand trembling as his fingers closed around the ring he had been carrying. He dreaded what would inevitably come next–not for his own sake, but for Mairon's.  
Taking a deep breath, he held out his hand and presented the ring to him. Mairon froze as soon as he saw it, unable to move for several seconds that felt like an eternity, then picked it up with surprising gentleness, reverently and lovingly. Olórin spotted an identical ring on his finger, confirming what Irmo had told Nienna. 
"No..."
Mairon's voice was now reduced to a broken whisper, and he stared at the ring in disbelief. To Olórin, it seemed as though could see his heart shattering into countless pieces, releasing waves upon waves of pure anguish that shook his fëa to the core. 
"I am so sorry," he said, though he knew the Maia wasn't listening to him. 
"I... I don't feel... him... anymore..."
Mairon fell to his knees, clutching the ring and holding it up to his chest, the weight of realisation too much to bear. His entire fána was trembling like a flame being suffocated, flickering weakly before its light was extinguished. 
"Melkor... no... no..." 
He hid his face in his hands and started shaking his head rapidly. 
"NO!" 
At this moment it seemed to Olórin that something inside him broke and he could only watch any tears the other Maia might have shed evaporating as rivers of fire started to spill from his eyes and mouth, engulfing his fána in flames. Mairon threw his head back and a piercing cry of anguish shook the entire valley, rocks falling from the hills as the very earth under their feet was shaken by his grief. Never before had Olórin heard such agony and despair in the voice of an Ainu, his own fëa quivering within his fána, and he prayed to Eru he would never have to hear such a cry again, begging for something or someone to soothe Mairon's pain. 
A tongue of flame flared up towards the heavens from where the fire spirit knelt, as if it was desperately calling out to his beloved, reaching for him even though he knew he wouldn't answer. All Olórin could do was hide behind a few nearby rocks and shield himself from the torrents of flame spilling from Mairon's wounded fëa as uncontrollable sobs caused his fána to shake and tremble like a leaf in the eye of a fiery storm. 
He didn't know how long it took until Mairon's voice gave out and he collapsed with a faint whimper, still holding on to Melkor's ring like his life depended on it. Cautious, Olórin emerged from his hiding place and approached the fallen Maia. His mission was complete, he could simply assume the shape of a bird and fly home to Valinor, yet he felt like he couldn't leave one of his kind behind like this. 
"Go away," Mairon hissed upon noticing him coming closer once again, his voice hoarse and cracking under the strain.  
"I have nothing to say to you." 
"You need help, Mairon. While Eönwë was right when he said that none of us Maiar have the power to forgive you, I promise that Lady Nienna will protect you if you come home with me. And Lord Aulë as well. He loved you, and he has never given up on you. There are people who wish to help you heal and redeem yourself." 
Olórin was certain he had seen Mairon hesitate for a moment, but then he let out a bitter laugh. 
"I would rather die than serve those who have taken my king and husband away from me and murdered him," he said through gritted teeth, his eyes alight with defiance as he looked up at the other Maia. 
"And the Valar don't love us, Olórin. You can choose not to believe me, but one day you will see."
Olórin regarded him quietly, contemplating his words. While he believed Mairon was wrong, he knew this was not the time to argue with him. 
"I take it you will not come with me," he said and bowed his head. "So be it then."
"I already told you to leave me alone."
"And I will. But never forget that you don't have to walk the same path as Melkor did."
With that, Olórin allowed his fána to shift back into an avian shape and spread his wings. 
"Farewell, Mairon."  
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
"Perhaps it was foolish of me to even ask," Olórin mused, caressing the white chrysanthemum's petals. The memory of Mairon's grief shook him to the core, even after all this time. 
"How so?"
Another flower was slowly growing amidst Irmo's locks while he eyed the Maia with mild curiosity. 
"Well... he ran away from Eönwë and he lost his husband... to us." 
"Yet he did hesitate, even if it was just for a small moment." 
"Mayhaps." Olórin searched his memories one more time, wondering if there were any clues he had missed. "It seemed that way to me back then, though in retrospect I wonder if he merely deceived me, just like he did to Eönwë."
Irmo shook his head. "You are a student of my dearest sister, you know offering mercy and compassion is never foolish, even if the chances of success are low. Mairon may have been able to save himself if he had accepted your offer... but do not blame yourself, Olórin. You did everything you could and you were very kind to him and many others. I know your darling little friends learned a lot from you; they are quite lovely, are they not?" 
Olórin smiled. It hadn't escaped his notice that many among the Ainur were quite taken with his companions from Middle-earth, particularly the Hobbits–Irmo had been more than happy to share his best pipe weed with them. It was sad that their time together would be but a fleeting moment compared to the eternity of the Undying Lands. 
"But I believe this tale has not yet come to an end, has it?" Irmo gently interrupted his thoughts. 
"Indeed." Olórin's eyes focused on the flower in his hands again to collect his thoughts, then he continued. 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
The piercing scream that had torn through stone and metal, flesh and spirit alike echoed within Olórin's very being long after the dark tower fell and the remnant of Mairon's spirit rose one last time, only to be blown away by the wind. He had returned to Mordor to make sure nothing remained of the evil that had plagued Middle-earth for the last few ages and was standing on a jagged rock, leaning on his staff and beholding the ruins of the dark lord's domain, when he suddenly sensed another presence. 
It was brief, fleeting and nigh imperceptible with the dulled senses of his hröa, yet for a moment it seemed to him as though the mighty figure of Aulë was standing amidst the mountains and looking at the remnants of his lost Maia's kingdom before he vanished once more, and a deep, heavy sigh shook the ground underneath Olórin's feet. 
He was fairly certain that his senses hadn't deceived him, but he didn't call out to the Vala; had Aulë wished to speak with him, he would have done so and not concealed himself. 
It must be a strange feeling for him, being proud of his children but also saddened by his former student's demise, Olórin thought, then sat down to ponder the events that had transpired.
Losing one's spouse, losing part of one's fëa. These were things he couldn't even begin to imagine, and he had sensed the sheer agony tearing through Mairon both times. A cruel fate for a Maia, even for one who had committed so many crimes and terrible acts; yet it was Eru's will that this should be his ultimate fate, so the Children may be free of the great evil that had haunted them for ages, a shadow of his long lost master. 
Olórin wondered, as he had wondered many times before, if Mairon had done all of this out of love for Melkor. If he had tried to rebuild the kingdom they had lost in the War of Wrath and prepare for his return, knowing that the Dark Vala could never be fully destroyed as long as his power remained within Eä like blood flowing through its veins. 
Yet every time he contemplated these thoughts, he remembered the teachings of Manwë, that love was good and pure and paved the road to redemption for oneself as well as for others. Never before had Olórin doubted the words of the Elder King, wisest among the Ainur and closest to Ilúvatar, but now he couldn't help wondering–if it was as he said, how could love have driven Mairon to commit such atrocities and refuse mercy and compassion from his peers? How could love have caused such pain and destruction? 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
"And now you would like to know if Manwë is wrong or not," Irmo gently finished the Maia's unspoken thought. 
Olórin's expression was slightly sheepish as he gazed up at him, and he shifted uncomfortably. "I wouldn't presume to question his judgement like that, but–"
Irmo shook his head, unperturbed by the Maia's doubtful mien. 
"Manwë may be wise, but he knows there are things he doesn't understand and that he may err in his judgement; nor would he blame you for asking questions."
"What is your answer then, Lord Irmo?" Olórin asked, turning to face the Vala so his undivided attention rested on him. 
"What Manwë says... it is certainly not wrong. For love is so powerful that it was the one thing that made Melkor snap out of his madness in the final moments of the war and save someone other than himself."
The new flower on Irmo's head had fully grown in the meantime, and he presented it to Olórin: A beautiful red rose, rich in colour and seemingly glowing from the inside. 
"Yet love is not exclusively a force of good and healing. It too may be twisted into something evil and destructive, as you have seen. There is... very little in this world that is as simple as being good or evil." 
He gingerly rearranged his locks and the other flowers so the rose rested in their midst. 
"Manwë, however, is free of evil. He doesn't understand Mairon's desire for revenge or his need to spread his pain to others."
A brief silence ensued, until Olórin nodded slowly. "I see." 
Irmo smiled and pulled him into a hug. "It is quite alright to be sad and grieve for a while if you feel the need to, but again, please don't blame yourself. Mairon's decisions were his own to make until the very end and neither you, nor Eönwë, nor Eru himself could take that away from him. You did what you could."
The white chrysanthemum on the Maia's lap suddenly dissolved into tiny white butterflies that flew around the two Ainur and Olórin felt as if a knot inside of him had been untangled, allowing his thoughts and emotions to flow freely again. 
"I think I understand now. Thank you, my lord."
A lingering sense of sadness remained, yet it was all clear now. It would take a while until he had made sense of everything he saw in Middle-earth, but he knew he was not alone and Irmo and Nienna were there to listen to him when he was ready to open up and heal. 
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sassybluee · 2 months
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I come bearing a Wip Wednesday. I've been working on updating my canon divergence longfic An Orchid of the Moon. Hopefully I can finish the chapter soon! Here's a little bit for now, as Canglan navigate setting up Xiao Run and Xie Wanqing while pretending to be married (for real this time, no take backs!)
When they retire to their bedroom, Dongfang Qingcang is in a mood. Quiet and sullen, he sits on the bed and watches her remove the decorative pins from her hair. Though her back is turned to him, she feels the weight of his stare. She feels his irritation. It is only natural for him to be less than thrilled by the prospect of making friends with Xiao Run, but it is not like they have many options. “I am too old for education,” Dongfang Qingcang complains. “I am a married man.” “Can married men not further their education?” Xiao Lanhua counters, placing the last hairpin on the table. “If anyone asks, just say you couldn’t complete your studies before marriage.” Dongfang Qingcang lets out a low sigh. “Just blame it on your wife,” she continues with a laugh. “She wants you to enrich your mind.” “There must be another way.” “You heard Jieli—it is best to meet him in a place you can be free to chat.” He lets out another frustrated sigh. “Just relax and try to have fun. Xiao Run may be immature and a little vulgar, but his heart is in the right place. He proposed to Xie Wanqing, despite his family’s disapproval. He wanted to honour their old engagement. Is that not good?” Dongfang Qingcang says nothing. Of course, he would rather die than agree that anyone related to Lord Changheng could be good. But Changheng is not Xiao Run. Not now. She rises to disrobe. The ties give way easily—almost too easily at this point. This dress has served her well these years, but recently it seems she has grown out of it. Though the ties hold, they do not fit the way it did when they first arrived. She supposes that must be how life goes as a mortal. Everything is so different here. “I am going to need new clothes,” she announces, setting her clothing aside on the table. “I swear this mortal food is wreaking havoc on my body.” Dongfang Qingcang lets out a questioning noise as she crosses the room to join him on the bed. He pulls his brows together in a frown. “It’s made me gain weight,” she explains, “haven’t you noticed?” She has noticed it on Dongfang Qingcang—just a little. He is still disciplined, training with mortal blades in the company of their servants, but he has allowed himself a little indulgence. He is a lot softer now, in more ways than one. He must have noticed the same about her. “You always look the same to me,” he says. “Aiya… don’t make me blush,” she protests, heart fluttering. "Smooth talker.” His frown deepens. “I am only speaking the truth.” Even after all this time, he can still make her feel as she did the first time they met. “You must be as kind to Xiao Run as you are to me. Remember to smile when he speaks to you. Just like this.” She pushes the corners of his mouth up with her fingers, his eyes widening at her sudden touch. It makes her laugh. He has gotten better at smiling all these years, but it wouldn’t be obvious to someone who doesn’t know him. Definitely not obvious to someone like Xiao Run. “You must try to make friends with him,” she says. “Won’t it be nice to have a friend?” “I do not need friends,” he mutters.
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allaganexarch · 4 months
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Author Interview
Thank you @thevikingwoman for the tag!!!
1. how many works do you have on AO3?
100 💪😔
2. what's your total AO3 word count?
oh god. oh god. sdkjnfjknfknjf. 1,107,586
3. what fandoms do you write for?
tbh I really don't feel I write for specific fandoms, I move around as the wind takes me
4. what are your top five fics by kudos?
Songbird -- Sleeping Beauty (Maleficent/Aurora) || 39k words maleficent finds the princess before the curse takes effect.
The Prisoner -- Sleeping Beauty (Maleficent/Aurora) || 250k words Do Not Read The Prisoner.
New Disaster -- Portal (Chell/GLaDOS) || 9.8k words post-portal 2 chell-focused character journey.
Begin to Hope -- Sleeping Beauty || Maleficent/Aurora || 16k words more trauma processing thinly disguised as a coffee shop au.
total control -- Sleeping Beauty || Maleficent/Aurora || 5.7k words god this one makes me cringe but ppl still read it sometimes. modern au. smut i am too embarrassed to reread.
5. do you respond to comments?
Except for recently when I got way too behind for various reasons, I respond to all comments unless they're like rude or something LOL!
6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Hmmmm I had to think about this for a bit LOL bc I think I tend to favor, like, melancholy but hopeful endings. I honestly wish I could write sadder endings--there's one fic in particular that just absolutely eviscerated me and I'd love to be able to replicate that. But I tend to get invested in longer fics and want to make the ending Worth It you know, so I think you have to pull off a particular flavor of tragedy for that to be the case.
Anyway, maybe stop-time? It's uhhhhh an Incredibles 2 Helen Parr/Evelyn Deavor fic LOL Not sure how I feel abt the ending in retrospect actually but I'd say it's the least positive.
7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
See above LOL, this is also hard because I think I always like there to be a little bit of a twinge in my endings! Like everything's okay but there's still a little lingering pain/uncertainty/etc. I honestly don't know on this one LOL, I think maybe The Prisoner has the happiest ending?? Because it was so long, I really wanted to resolve as many threads as possible. But now I'm ruining it with scorched earth LOL!
8. do you get hate on fics?
I've gotten a few interesting messages over the years LOL, the real ones will remember.
9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?
I went on an Improvement Journey a couple of years ago and now I feel my smut writing is wayyyyy better--anything before that makes me cringe out of this mortal plane. I like writing character-focused and story-driven smut.
(battling my demons rn part of me wants to write malora smut just so the only malora smut i ever wrote isn't TERRIBLE AND CRINGE but also i do not want to write malora smut do you see my problem)
10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?
Full crossovers are tbh too much effort for me LOL--I will sometimes write, like, crossover-inspired things. The Chance You Take (DA2/Meredith/Hawke) is extremely Carol-coded, for example.
11. have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of, but I have had a couple of ideas just straight-up plagiarized from private conversations which made me pretty pissed LOL.
12. have you ever had a fic translated?
No, I used to be so awkward and just avoid answering when people asked me, but now I just refuse outright.
13. have you ever co-written a fic before?
No, I'm like wayyyyyyy too much of a crazy control freak for that LOL!
14. what's your all-time favourite ship?
Ohhhhhh come on you can't ask me that LOL, it changes all the time.
15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
As I mentioned recently, most of my old WIPs are pretty much abandoned at this point. Never say never, but I just don't think I'll ever muster enough interest or enjoyment to make finishing them worthwhile for me.
16. what are your writing strengths?
Natural dialogue, slightly agonizing yearning, generally describing like, specific Emotional States TM.
17. what are your writing weaknesses?
Hmmmm I still think I'm working on my pacing in certain contexts, and on making stronger narrative choices/not pulling punches. I think my narrative can meander a little and I can repeat myself a bit if I don't edit enough. I also notice sometimes that because I love working within limited pov I don't always explain, like, the character's thought process well enough? So what she's thinking sometimes seems like a leap of logic looking at it from an outside perspective. But overall I think I'm a very strong writer.
18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
LOL I think just indicate that it's in another language unless it's like just a word or short phrase and you either explain what it means in-story or can guess from context. There are probably some very specific circumstances where you might want a small section of dialogue in another language to create a certain effect, but other than that I think it's a no.
19. first fandom you wrote for?
I mean we really don't have to unearth my whole fandom history here. Let's say it was a musical and leave it at that :)
20. favourite fic you've written?
Oh idk, I think I'll always have a soft spot for New Disaster, and more recently I really like everybody's fool (DA2, hawke/aveline) -- but it's hard to choose an absolute favorite!!!
TAG TIMEEEE: @thepapernautilus @yourlocaldisneyvillain @eemamminy-art @quinnthebard @delirious-comfort annnd i am once again so bad at thinking of fellow writers
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vollzz · 10 months
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An Eves Snippet-
I hope it’s not TOO obvious, but Eves is absolutely my favorite character from my wip, blackflame (sorry protag!). This scene following them was one of the first ones I wrote, but I’m undecided on whether or not I actually want to include it in the first draft since it’s the only one not following Calliope.
Just prior to this scene, we see Eves being mortally wounded by [???]. Through quick thinking and trickery they are able to disappear into safety. I LOVE getting into Eves’ head and I find their dialogue quite difficult to write at times - it’s a careful balance of trying to sound “ancient” without being robotic, and also very specific word choice to convey their characteristics.
Thoughts, comments, questions, and constructive criticism are always welcome :)
The lithe, ethereal body thudded to the ground with ragged breaths. Nearly every inhale brought with it a cough that sprayed gleaming golden droplets amongst the fibers of the carpet. One hand pressed tightly against the sticky blood oozing from beneath a once-pristine shirt, the other desperately pushing against the ground to elevate into a sitting position.
Is this what I sense from mortal beings when I appear before them? Fear?
Perfect white teeth gritted against one another and Eves moaned with agony, hissing at the pain that resurged more sharply with each coming breath. Slowly, they lifted up the hem of their shirt to assess the severity of their wounds - the release of blood had slowed to a trickle, and one of the gaping holes had already begun to clot.
A day of many firsts, then, although it should not be surprising that my form can mend itself, and at a better rate than mortals.
Eves had been brutally wounded before, of course - but on that occasion it had not been stopped so easily. The very thought of it sent a shudder down their spine, and the image was dismissed as quickly as it had dared to grace their memory.
Eves’ free hand trembled with rage. The world that lovingly birthed their perfect form into being had the effrontery to taunt them with unknowns? To grant their body with healing only to make it agonizingly slow?
Their stomach and throat spasmed, breaking open the clots in their wounds and freeing more blood. They leaned forward and vomited a heavenly gilded river onto the carpet.
Even in this state, I am exquisite.
Blood seeped through the cracks of their fingers, steadfast in its journey to escape its prison.
I am a god even among gods. I cannot die.
But perhaps I must seek Leilah.
Once again, their cunning would save them; the [???] existence had only recently become apparent to Eves, and clearly not soon enough. What was more surprising was who had found [???] first. But now was not the time to think of her - no, Eves needed to act.
It is still light outside - she will be in the temple.
Stand up. I am a god. I will act like it.
Silent feet rubbed against the carpet and propelled Eves upwards, nearly causing more vomit to erupt from their mouth. They willed themselves to have new, unsoiled clothing, even as the strain of using their power tore at their insides.
I cannot die. I will not die.
It was truly ridiculous that the deities were blinded to one another, but no matter. Lovely James had tracked down one of Leilah’s Children for Eves some time ago, a beautiful, stupid woman. Stupid, of course, because she had settled for Leilah before Eves could have her.
The temple.
Eves willed their power to take them, disregarding the shred of fear that wondered if they could even make it that far. Their eyes shut as they felt the whoosh of travel, and the soles of their boots landed roughly onto the ceramic tiles of one of Leilah’s temples. Eves’ eyelids struggled against them, fluttering, but finally opened.
There. A woman kneeled before an altar in front of Eves, her backless cream-colored gown revealing the golden spinal stripe of her mark nestled atop deep ebony skin. She muttered some prayer to herself, blissfully unaware of Eves’ presence. Eves painfully stepped between the woman and the exit, forcing their facial features into a cool mask and honey into their tone.
“Simone, dear. What a wonderful occasion to see you.”
She jumped in fear at the voice and whirled around, her eyes wide as she took in Eves’ form before her. Eves hoped that their thick jacket would be enough to obscure the blood already soaking their shirt.
“Do not defile my lady’s temple with your presence, beautiful demon. Begone. I am not affected by your repulsive magic.”
“Only because you currently belong to another.”
How ridiculous to think she can resist me out of sheer willpower. So very mortal.
Eves crept forward, even as dizziness began to cloud their vision. Simone matched each step with one of her own to maintain the distance between them until her back came into contact with the stone altar.
“I have business with Leilah, lovely Simone. Summon her at once,” they crooned as they cornered her against the altar.
“I said begone, demon. I will never call for her in your company.” Her voice echoed with confidence, but Eves could feel her terror, could see the shaking hands she desperately tried to conceal. Icy blood began to trickle onto the waistband of their pants.
Come, darling Leilah, make your grand entrance.
Eves grabbed Simone by the neck, savoring the horrified shriek that vibrated from within. “You live on borrowed time. It is not often I am denied that which I desire.” Fingers pressed tauntingly into the soft flesh of her neck. “Your deity cannot heal that which is dead, can she?”
I will kill a beautiful thing if I must. I am a god among gods. I refuse to perish.
“Enough, Eves.” The hand had already released Simone before the words reached Eves’ ears - her godly presence was announcement enough of her arrival. Simone coughed violently, her fingers feathering around her neck. She stumbled forwards enough to drop to her knees in front of her deity, tears streaming down her face. Leilah bent down to lovingly caress her face, the touch erasing the hidden pains on Simone’s neck.
“You are safe now, my Child. Please leave us.” Without another word the woman ran from the room, locking the doors behind her. At the sound of them crashing together Eves released their tight reigns of control, haphazardly leaning against the stone altar. Their thoughts swirled with fog, with agony, with the ice of the blood soaking their clothes.
Leilah, her face uncharacteristically shocked, merely breathed, “You are dying, and you wish me to save you.” Eves glowered at her, even as they sank to the floor.
“I will be fine, surely. My body can heal, but I would like you to hurry the process.” They both knew it was a lie, but Eves could not bear to admit the weakness out loud. “As you can see, I have mortals to punish.”
How ironic to have called them mortals all this time, as if I cannot perish just as them.
“Mortals did this to you?” She cautiously approached Eves, stopping to kneel beside them. Her voice began to feel distant to Eves’ roaring ears.
“Heal me and you shall know all, Leilah. It is of interest to you - they are on a crusade against us. Perhaps you will be next.” Eves’ mouth filled with the sweet tang of their blood as they studied Leilah’s horrified expression. With a shaking hand, Leilah brushed away the hair plastered to the sweat beading on Eve’s forehead.
Leilah hesitated. Eves knew the debate that waged internally for her - they’d given her every reason to leave them here to die a pitiful death, but surely seeing another deity in such a sorry state must have stricken fear into her heart. Eves merely let their eyes slide shut, perhaps for the final time.
I cannot truly die. I will claw my way back to this land, and I will come for you, Calliope. You belong to me, and me alone.
Gentle hands pressed into Eves’ stomach, exploring each of the wounds from [???]. Gilded light the same color as their smeared blood burned through Eves’ eyelids, and slowly the piercing agony that wracked their body began to fade. A wicked smile stretched across Eves’ face as they opened their eyes to gaze into Leilah’s.
I am a god among gods.
I will take back what is mine.
—-
blackflame tag list- (ask to be added/removed!)
[ author’s note: thank you sm to all the new tag list friends :) love you all! ]
@hallwriteblr @kourumi @space-writes @at-thezenith @careful-fear
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