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chaoticspacefam · 3 years

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ANOTHER AU Idea, As If I Don’t Have Enough Already

So, in addition to the snippet I posted earlier today for the WIP meme, my brain threw this idea at me at 1am last night when I was trying to sleep lmao

As I said I only lit on this idea last night so it’s a very baby AU idea, and only has a very vague plot (it’s also been a while since I’ve looked at anything to do with His Dark Materials so it’s only gonna be like...very loosely a crossover and definitely not follow the “classic” rules so to speak, because I don’t think that’d work with the plot idea my brain has given me.)

I present to you: Daemon AU, but what if, still in the SWTOR-universe and therefore daemons can be SWTOR-based creatures, too ;)

So, sort of kind of the same plot basis, at least in so far as: most inhabitants of the galaxy have daemons/familiars. If your daemon dies, you die, but unlike in HDM, daemons can walk or travel separately from their people it’s just....very ill-advised, if you’re a long long way away from your daemon and someone follows and kills it, for instance...buh bye your life :’) however, in this manner, a daemon might also survive their person’s body being killed and by virtue of being attached to that person, could flee and find them a “new body” so to speak, as a part of that person would still exist attached to their daemon even if they have no body to inhabit (Valkorion, of course, has mastered this, same as the body-hopping in canon ;3).

Ergo, what if the JK kills Vitiate but his daemon gets away and runs to Zakuul etc. and our merry band of heroes have to band together to chase it down through the galaxy and kill it before it finds Valkorion/Vitiate a new body, picking up some familiar faces along the way :’)

I have a couple other daemons picked out, too, for most of the mains, I need to think of some for the others, and still need to pick one for Vitiate/Valkorion if I end up taking this idea any further, we’ll see. :3

and a teeny tiny snippet which is as much as I’ve been able to work on atm. I have no idea where in the story this will fall or what it’ll connect to, I really need to plan this more, but I wanted some content to put out this evening cause I haven’t been posting much (”original” content) this weekend due to being busy, so *throws the bone* here ya go XD

The pup was gangly, it struggled to keep up with the Darth’s larger tuk’ata daemon, tottering on legs far too disproportionate to its own body; it tripped on its own paws and yelped as it fell, causing the young Sith to whom it was tethered to grimace, touching her fingertips to her chin out of reflex. “Oof.” “Still so clumsy. At least she’s finally settled, though.” Noctis chuckled in amusement as Chwûq, his own daemon, rumbled in mild amusement and swung about to grab Aria’s by the scruff, setting her back on her own paws again. The younger tuk’ata chittered up at her in delight, wagging her tail, until Chwûq snorted at her once again and sent her skittering back to her mistress’ side. “Be careful.” the Darth continued, looking down at both of them severely. “Do not let her wander far. A stray daemon without its person is an easy target...and the quickest way for other Sith to kill you.”

#swtor #swtor daemon au #swtor oc: aria saal #swtor oc: roan saal #it's gonna be tricky trying to work with only *one* of the saal's tuk'ata #because canonically he has two and they go to aria when he dies #bc aria reminds them of roan and vice versa #like i said this is in the VERY baby stages rn and i really shouldn't be letting new candy distract me from the *canon* fic(s) lmao #i am a bad writer /jk #or am i? i mean...we all do this right LOL #[working on current wip] [new idea lightbulb] OH LOOK. SOMETHING SHINY #i thought about making taral aria's daemon but idk it'd be kinda weird since he & chwûq are canonically the same age & also a mated pair #so i might end up pulling one of their pups' names from the zephyrverse au rp and using that as ari's daemon's name #if i continue on with this idea at some point :P #yes aria's daemon decided to copy dad's #because if dad gets a big scary daemon aria wants one too #maybe then people will stop calling her ''shorty'' and take her seriously /lh

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dragonheart-swtor · 3 years

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@sleepswithvillains was kind enough to let me doodle her SW Eleanora and her polar bear daemon; I got a little carried away xD

Bonus Quinn being very nervous about his dae interacting with Nora’s so closely (whether because of Propriety(TM) or because of the fact that he could eat her in literally one bite is up to you :P):

#star wars #swtor #swtor ocs #sith warrior #daemon au #other people's ocs #......which i really should have individual tags for tbh but i don't want to go back and tag everything in the backlog jfkdjkgjs #i am Lazy #malavai quinn #my art #polar bears are fuckin huge y'all #i mean i knew that but i don't think i really Knew That until i was drawing one #also LEAST WEASELS ARE TINY WTF #HAND SIZED BASTARD. HOW DARE YOU BE SO SMALL AND ADORABLE

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semper-draca · 4 years

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Anima Mea

Chapter Three : Jaesa Willsaam pt 1

“You’re so pretty.”

That’s what everyone tells Jaesa.

Her parents are poor. Not dirt poor, but Jaesa’s always been aware of the fact that she wears secondhand clothes and has shoes with worn down soles and that the food she eats is more of the quick-and-fast variety than it is healthy. But her parents save up their credits to send her to a nice school. Education is a way out, she’s told. And then even more seriously, that connections are a way out. Noble children go to her school. Jaesa will grow up playing side by side with children who will one day be titled, and that’s worth every credit.

Jaesa smooths out her uniform jacket with her small hands. First day of the new year of classes. She is only nine years old and she already knows that first impressions are the most important part of her education.

#swtor #another chapter of the daemon au????#it's here????#jaesa willsaam #sith warrior

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askshivanulegacy · 5 years

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Daemon AU

Just a bunch of blurbs. I blame @theanaideialegacy

They told him her name was Amma.

She is medium-sized and heavy, and made for holding. Her fur is thick and short, and she is roly-poly like a ferret.

She hates everything.

His earliest memory of her is a moment of pure, childlike joy turned to agony as Amma slashes across his face, nearly destroying his eye for good.

He recovers, physically.

He never tries to hold her again.

He doesn't know what she's supposed to be, and no one can seem to tell him. She's like a feline, and not like a feline. She's long, but so is her tail; she seems short, but her legs are long to compensate. Her head is something like a bear's, with large rounded ears, but not really; her nose is something like a weasel's, but not so tiny or delicate. Her paws are like a cat's, but not; sometimes they seem more like hands. Her eyes are slitted like a cat’s. They’re pale gold, clear and unsettling, like the smoke black color of her fur is unsettling. Blakk knows that she is practically all muscle; he knows intimately the shape and tone of her. But her appearance tricks his eyes and makes them slide away, like she's not really solid, like she's made of shadows and something insubstantial. He doesn't like the way her eyes gleam at him, or her frequent, muttering snarls, and he wishes he didn't have to sleep in the dark.

III

She's angry because you're angry.

But he doesn't feel angry. Mostly, he feels alone and confused and scared. He wants to hold her, but he can't. He wants her to sit in his lap, or on his shoulder, or snuggle with him in his bed at night, like the other kids do with their daemons. But she doesn't.

He won't admit it, but she frightens him.

She doesn’t change like the other daemons do. She’s only ever had one form. She can swim and climb and run pretty fast, so he supposes she doesn’t need another form. The only thing she can’t do is fly, but Blakk thinks she might fly away forever if she could, so he’s fine with that. He still loves her and he doesn’t want her to go.

He’s never seen anyone else’s daemon change into something like her. Sometimes he wonders if she got it wrong somehow, and now she’s stuck.

Blakk was ten before he realized he was supposed to be able to communicate with her. It bothered him for a long time after that; in truth, it's never stopped bothering him. But by thirteen, he told himself that it's always been that way with her, and if nothing has changed yet, it wasn't going to.

He visits the medbay a lot. Amma snaps at other people, and she’s gotten into the habit of attacking their daemons. He restrains her, but her claws and teeth are sharp, and they hurt. He wonders if this is what it’s like to have a normal pet, like a cat, and he thinks for a moment that he’s lucky. He’s never had a pet.

But that moment doesn’t last.

Today, he’s getting his leg sewn back up. She was extra restless during his test earlier, and he now has a leash to keep her from bothering anyone else. He pulled her close, but she disagreed. Violently.

At least he managed to finish the test.

VII

They learn to be apart from each other – well, further than they were already. It kills him to have her that far, across a hangar, across a landing pad, but it makes them better agents, so he endures. He doesn’t know how it affects Amma. She shows no indication of it bothering her. She’s already so angry.

VIII

Blakk knows that daemons are, in some way, a reflection of their person’s personality. The soul manifested.

Amma is wild and untamed, no matter how much he works with her, like she carries a madness.

He doesn’t know what that says about him.

When she finally learns to listen to him, Blakk hopes it’s because she’s realized they’re supposed to coexist together. They work extraordinarily well as a team. Once they’ve gotten past spoken commands, it’s like she can read his mind, even when they operate apart, as they often do. They’re vicious in battle, like two feral things, and Amma doesn’t hesitate to attack people when it’s convenient. She has a vicelike grip with her teeth and she likes to go for the throat.

Blakk gets used to the discomfort of foreign touches on his soul-half. It’s part of battle now, and it doesn’t faze him. They can clear a room in moments.

No one expects a daemon to target people.

Blakk doesn’t work well with others.

Amma doesn’t make friends, and even though Blakk could probably leave her in his dorm for a time because he’s learned to be distant from her, he can’t bring himself to do it. Today will be the day that makes a difference, he thinks. So he weathers the bites and the scratches and pulls Amma away from her targets of irritation, and keeps her by his side. He trains her to be off the leash, most days.

But she doesn’t change, today or any other day, and she doesn’t grow closer, even though she puts up with closeness.

Closeness without touching.

So he doesn’t make friends either. He doesn’t think he knows how to. But he thinks it’s more convenient than not, because his focus has been on classes and training and missions, and he didn’t become his year’s top graduate for nothing, and he’s learned to ignore when people give them a wide berth in the hallways.

They know by now.

But sometimes he still wanders by the lounge. He still watches the other agents and all their daemons, close-knit and relaxing, and together. He’s grown up with some of them, but he doesn’t really know them. He wonders what it’s like to hold your own soul in your arms and to hear its voice in your mind, to trust it, and to be comfortable with other people in the same room.

He tells himself he’s a better agent for it. No one else’s daemon is made for slaughter.

But he is very, very alone.

#swtor #swtor OCs #Star Wars #Star Wars AU #Star Wars Crossover #Kiraia made me do it #I mean #the alternative was no daemon at all XDDD #here have some angst #I guess it's not as angsty as it could be #maybe I try harder next time #XD #Omega Blakk #story: Blakk #my writing #Daemon AU

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sunsetofdoom · 1 year

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I posted 2,587 times in 2022

43 posts created (2%)

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I tagged 1,186 of my posts in 2022

#our flag means death - 461 posts

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Longest Tag: 121 characters

#aloy is like 'well i could proceed with saving the world. or' and lists off all the sidequests she could be doing instead

My Top Posts in 2022:

Finally finished a fic for once in my life! You know how everyone makes “Avad gets pegged” jokes? Y’all better put your money where your fucking mouth is.

Let Her Be Soft, And Let Her Be Mine

title from this poem, swapped pronouns

It almost hurt to think about- probing the barriers he put up in his thoughts, not letting himself dwell on his trivial love affair when there were so many more important things to worry about. But Ersa was right there, the memory of her vibrant and shining. The lines on her skin, sun-darkened wherever her armor didn’t protect her and pale where it did, the calluses on her hands, the steadying way she touched him. Her scars- he’d spent ages over the years mapping them with his hands, his mouth; the whip marks on her back, the slave-brand on her shoulder, pockmarks on her thigh where the sparks of an explosion had caught her. The way she blushed, up to her ears and halfway down her chest, when he kissed every one like they were precious. She never made a sound- they had to be so careful- but often tangled her hand into his hair as her breathing deepened and stuttered. Always caught off-guard by his affection.

38 notes - Posted January 23, 2022

it’s About the inherent eroticism of the title “Captain”

54 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

everybody knows cats are witches

(a continuation of the daemon AU I started here, though really all the context you should need, even if you don’t know the general concept, is that Stede’s familiar is a golden retriever)

“It’s quite ridiculous,” Stede complained. His teacup sloshed in his hand, half-forgotten as he gestured. “Half my crew honestly thinks you’re a witch! This can’t just be Blackbeard’s fearsome reputation, Ed. Really, what have you done to them?”

Ed narrowed his eyes, a familiar smile twisting the shaggy beard, and said, “Come with us.”

Curious, Stede did, settling the teacup back in its saucer and rising to follow with Polly clicking gaily along at his heels. Likewise, Asher padded down the hall in front of Ed, a bit further away than would be comfortable for Stede and Polly; they seemed to have a longer range they could inhabit before the symptoms of human and daemon separation, a tight chest and emotional distress, began to plague them. Ash held his black tail high as he sauntered coolly over the mahogany floors, the very tip flicking back and forth with princely pride. At the end of the hall he jumped up onto the railing of the stairs, perching with all four of his paws in a straight line, and Ed gestured Stede and Polly up the stairs ahead of him.

When they were halfway up the staircase, he flickered his half-gloved fingers in a quiet good-bye. He stayed standing at the base of the stairs, and Asher continued his way up the banister, unconcerned with the distance they were putting between themselves.

Polly froze, her tail tucking between her legs. “Ed...”

He waved goodbye more emphatically, sauntering away in his big enormous boots with his hands on his hips. He was almost ten entire feet from his daemon, and even looking at him made Stede’s chest feel tight with sympathetic pain.

“Come on, then,” Asher drawled from the top of the stairs, rising up onto the decks, his dark fur catching the sunlight. “We don’t have all day.”

With one more nervous flick of his eyes to Ed’s retreating back, Stede followed.

Emerging above-decks was still a novelty, after all this time. The wind, the sunlight hammering down, the salt in the air catching on the back of his tongue- it was overwhelming and beautiful and terrifying. Polly shook her head, golden fur flying, and let her tongue hang out as she panted with an enormous doggy grin.

In front of them was Asher, intimately familiar- his dusty black fur, his scarred, torn ears, the ready-to-pounce tension of him even as he groomed himself meticulously. His tail swished back and forth against the wood of the deck, and he looked as though the entire world would wait until he was done cleaning himself- exactly like Ed, that absolute confidence in his own ridiculousness right up until the flash of claws the second they felt ridiculous.

Except Ed wasn’t there.

“Ash!” The deck tilting like he might be sick, Stede grabbed onto Polly, fisting his hand in her fur. Like their closeness could make up for Ed and Asher’s distance. He couldn’t quite tell if he or Polly had said Asher’s name; perhaps it was both of them at once.

Ash licked his paw, scrubbing furiously at the graying jowls of his face, appearing totally at ease. Alone. Oh, God, he was alone, with no human being to lean against or depend on, a thing of horror and revulsion like a human without a head. One of his ragged black ears twitched, and he stopped abruptly, put his paw down, and trotted away.

Stede pulled himself up by the banister, and followed, his face screwed up in concentration and worry.

The upper deck was empty at the moment, Izzy and Buttons both apparently busy elsewhere, so there was no one to scream or faint at the sight of a daemon with no human- all the more terrifying and unnatural for Asher’s nonchalance. Seemingly without rhyme or reason, Ash sat down in the middle of the deck, his tail curling around his paws until he looked like a statuette.

Dizzy, Stede leaned on Polly where she was a solid weight against his thigh. Where was Ed? Was he alright, was this hurting him? They ought to have been doubled over in pain, their bond stretched too far for anything but crumpling up into a ball of agony and grief. He looked out past Asher and onto the sea to the south, the expanse of blue sky, and wondered if this was the same scene Ed could see, out of the window of the cabin...

The cabin which was right beneath the deck.

Ash stared up at them, green eyes pinprick-small in the bright daylight, and blinked slowly.

“But you’re not far from him at all,” Stede said out loud, for Polly’s benefit; she was still held tense against his leg. “He’s just in the cabin below. You’re still within range.”

A pleased, husky trill quivered in Ash’s throat, and he stretched out of his picture-perfect pose to trot over and touch noses with Polly. She whined with relief, nuzzling him as his battle-scarred head bumped up against her muzzle.

“See?,” he said, his silky-dark voice wry and amused. He turned, brushing Polly’s nose just barely with the tip of his tail as he walked away. “Scares the shit out of people.”

“Hey, boss?” As if to demonstrate, Frenchie pounded his way up the stairs, sugar glider daemon riding on his shoulder. Technically, crewmen weren’t allowed on the upper deck without an invitation from the captain or mates; such a rule had never been something Stede enforced, though at the moment he rather wished he had.

Catching sight of the lonely black cat daemon, Frenchie froze, his eyes enormous. The sugar glider squeaked, scurrying up into his hair and hiding on top of his head, shaking all over.

Asher saw the twitchy rodent movement and his green eyes dilated. A throaty noise burbled from him as he crouched down, tail lashing and claws digging into the deck, ready to pounce.

Frenchie screamed. Not bothering with the stairs, he vaulted over the railing and fell the full ten feet to the lower deck.

Shouting, Stede rushed to the rail to make sure he was alright, Polly barking in distress at his heels. Frenchie seemed to have caught himself on a pile of boxes, and was struggling to get out of the one he’d broken, stuck in what appeared to be a pile of spare sewing rags from their flag contest that absolutely no one had bothered to put away. He was tangled in scraps of fabric and trying to fight his way free, still squeaking with panic, and right on comedic cue the sugar glider sailed in her small downward spiral and landed spread-eagled on his face.

Straining forward, Ash craned his neck and tilted his head, trying to see- he must have hit the edges of his and Edward’s range, what a relief to see that they had one- and began to laugh.

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79 notes - Posted April 10, 2022

not one hair of you would I rearrange

“Who named you?” Ed asked, mumbling around the end of the pipe in his mouth. “Never met a nob that’d name their kids’ daemon something s’common as Polly.” Nobs always had long daemon names, the very devil to pronounce and never worth remembering, and they were always out of some book or play that no one in their right mind had ever heard of.

“Ah,” Stede said, looking a little bashful as he put his bookmark between the pages, Polly a liquid lump of dog where she was lying on his slippers. Before them, the fire roared, leaving the cabin an oasis of cozy warmth among the old, comforting sounds of the waves against the hull. “It is, I’m afraid, a short form- her name is Polyhymnia. For one of the Greek muses, I believe.”

“I like Polly better,” she murmured from the floor, her normally-cheerful voice subdued and relaxed from the heat of the fire, and Stede leaned down to ruffle the long, golden hair around her ears. Her coat matched perfectly to his blond hair, and she looked clean and soft and rumpled, just like Stede in his dressing-gown.

“And you?” He asked politely, sitting back up. “Why Asher?”

Asher, taking up space on Ed’s chest, heaved a toothy yawn. He matched Ed the same way- midnight-black in their youth, he had faded over the years to the color of stormclouds on the horizon, fur going gray towards the jowled sides of his face. A thick, ragged tomcat with one ripped-up ear and singed whiskers, he’d left scars on the noses of daemons from here to High Brazil.

“Dunno,” he replied, his voice as low and dark as the voice in the back of Edward’s head that told him when everything was about to go to shit. “Biblical, maybe.”

“Mum was a God-botherer,” Ed agreed, drawing on his pipe and letting the smoke flow away with the words. Stede was the first person he’d spoken to about his mother in more than twenty years.

Stede pursed his lips, brow furrowing as he looked at his bookshelf like the answer was to be found there; Ed wondered if he had a Bible somewhere in those unreadable shelves, just for the sake of having it. That seemed like the sort of thing Stede would do, even if he never said a word about God either way.

“Genesis,” Polly contributed from the floor. “Jacob’s son,”

“Joseph’s brother! Yes,” Stede completed her sentence like always, snapping his fingers. “Sold his younger brother into slavery for spite and jealousy... something of a, er, despicable character.” He leveled Ed with a look that was somehow both fond and guilty.

“That’s us,” Asher stretched out his claws, clinking them against the wood of the pipe with the absolute confidence of an animal who never gave a single damn about being a nuisance. “Despicable all over.”

His weight on Ed’s chest was unfamiliar. They spent twenty years stretching their range, step by step and month by month, slowly gouging out space in their heart-deep bond that let Ash perch above-decks even when Blackbeard was ensconced away in the cabin, scaring the absolute pants off of the crew. The throaty pang of grief and pain in his chest was a constant, and its removal left him feeling almost weightless.

Ever since Stede had come into their lives, Asher circled closer and closer, both of them falling helplessly into his orbit. Ed took tea with him. Ash left dead rats at his doorstep. Edward taught him sword tricks in the dead of night while Asher and Polly play-fought at their feet, Ash rolling on his back and inviting a dog three times his size to snap at his belly.

And now Asher was lying on top of him, self-satisfied as a housecat. He wasn’t even keeping watch.

“When’d you settle?” Ed asked. Their silences were comfortable, but God almighty there was so much he wanted to know about Stede Bonnet, how in the Hell he’d ended up here, at sea in general and within arms’ reach in particular.

Sighing, Stede ran his bookmark over the edges of his fingers; Ed had felt less guilt about cutting mens’ hands off than he did for keeping Stede from his peaceful reading. “I was fourteen,” he said with a soft regret. “It was just before we left school- that school, at least. It inspired as much mockery as anything we did.” He glanced up, his eyes glinting in the fire-light. “A dog, you know- servants’ animals.” He took on a ridiculous and terrible approximation of those fickle Frenchmen, leveling the insult at him.

“Fucking cunts,” Ed said mildly.

Shrugging with faint agreement, Stede smiled in that soft, sad way that made Edward want to fold him up and protect him from the world.

He stretched out to kick his boots up onto the arm of the sofa, jostling Asher, who glared at him with one poison-green eye. “We settled young,” he said, trying to distract Stede from whatever recollection he’d fallen into. “Before any of the other kids, at least. My dad said I was a fucking witch.” Aside from telling that stupid fucking Kraken story, he hadn’t spoken about his father in decades, either.

“Very witchy animal, a black cat,” Stede concurred, smiling at Ash, who preened. Nobody else would’ve thought it, from Blackbeard’s ghoul of a familiar, but Ed knew him from the torn tips of his ears to the pads of his little asshole feet, and Asher was glowing with attention. “Really quite frightening. My peers, though, quickly deduced that Polly was no threat.”

Ed turned over on his elbow, shoving Ash when his tail dropped down in front of his eyes. Polly, in her place in front of the fire, was an average-sized, heavyset dog with clear eyes and strong legs; her constant, dopey smile obscured the fact that she was mouth-focused and picked up or bit everything in sight, and she went to point whenever Stede showed interest in anything. She was almost as attentive to the scrape of a rat in the ship as Asher, and he’d been a ratter his whole alley-cat life. “She’s got to be a hunting breed, though,” he said.

Stede shrugged again. “Perhaps,” he allowed. “My father, though, bred hunting dogs his whole life long, and he could make neither hide nor hair of her.” His tone said quite well that his father had been just as baffled by Stede himself.

Polly shifted, going from her inelegant splay across Stede’s feet to a tight ball on the rug, her enormous tail- so furry that it flapped like a fan when she wagged it- slapping down tight over the tip of her nose. Duly curled up, she heaved a woebegone sigh.

With a splay of his claws calculated to land right on Ed’s bare arm, Asher stretched luxuriously. In a show of nonchalance, he sat up, shook his head, cleaned his face, and with a clink of his claws against the buckles of Ed’s jacket, leapt to the floor.

“Fucking ow,” Ed muttered, rubbing his fingers along the small puncture wounds on his bicep, Asher’s asshole love-notes a lifelong sensation.

Asher padded over to Polly where she was curled up, plopped his enormous black backside next to her, and set his head on her shoulders. The rest of his body followed like water being poured into a shaped glass, drooping contentedly to the floor with the peculiar grace of a cat who was exactly where he wanted to be.

The silence settled into comfort, mood returning to contented laziness as Ed watched his daemon’s chest rise and fall as he breathed. Jesus fucking wept, how long had it been since that cat touched another daemon in something other than violence? Decades. More, probably. Asher regularly stalked and threatened Izzy’s kestrel daemon, knocking her from her perches around the ship; anything smaller than a bear was fair game for menacing, really. He’d even once managed to get a solid strike on Fang’s enormous golden eagle, clawing his way up into the rigging to drop down onto her back and pin her to the deck when she fell, snapping one of her strong wings with a noise like a dry branch.

And here he was snuggled up against a kennel-club, blue-ribbon princess of a dog, her angelic curls sparkling beside his patchy, dusty, ragged black fur.

“Ed,” Stede said into his book, and his head turned so fast it hurt, “forgive me if I’m being forward. But since we’re speaking of it...”

See the full post

110 notes - Posted April 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

so unfortunately for you all the above post inspired a daemons AU for these idiots

“And you?” He asked politely, sitting back up. “Why Asher?”

Ash, taking up space on Ed’s chest, heaved a toothy yawn. He matched Ed the same way- midnight-black in their youth, he had faded over the years to the color of stormclouds on the horizon, fur going gray towards the jowled sides of his face. A thick, ragged tomcat with one ripped-up ear and singed whiskers, he’d left scars on the noses of daemons from here to High Brazil.

“Dunno,” he replied, his voice as low and dark as the voice in the back of Edward’s head that told him when everything was about to go to shit. “Biblical, maybe.”

“Mum was a God-botherer,” Ed agreed, drawing on his pipe and letting the smoke flow away with the words.

318 notes - Posted April 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #alright yeah this all tracks #sorry about the long post lads

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sunsetofdoom · 1 year

Note

✨🚀🎁

For the writing asks!!

✨️ Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?

I think @ajax-daughter-of-telamon's comment on and then the singing is one of the best things to have ever happened to me. That was, I think, the first incredibly affecting comment I got on a fic I was proud of. And there's another one on the same fic about how the reader hates Maul and it nearly made them weep over him, which I was very proud of.

There was one book-report length comment on my extremely old, very bad DBH daemons AU that basically resurrected my faith in my own writing from the grave, and an entire pile of them on my she-ra fic- I don't know what it was about that piece but people shook it between their teeth like a pack of terriers with a chipmunk, it was awesome. And then of course there's all the people that came out of the woodwork to tell me they'd never played SWTOR but desperately wanted Teo and Corso to fuck.

All in all, I've been really lucky. I love y'all.

🚀 Do you like to outline your fic first or create as you go?

I have a very delicate process- if I start something too early, I can hare off in the wrong direction and trip myself up by getting it wrong the first time and not wanting to go back and edit it. But if I daydream and plan and plot and outline for too long, I run the risk of getting bored with it and losing motivation, so I have to start while I have a reasonable idea of what happens but not enough so that I'm tired of watching the movie play in my head.

It's tricky. I get it wrong a lot, which is why I publish so little.

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

Unfortunately, @pineaberry dragged me kicking and screaming into watching The Owl House and I got really disproportionately invested in Hunter and Willow. I'm never finishing this grimdark Luz-less AU, but I'm skipping right to the interesting bits for Lefos' enjoyment.

As they moved, it swept the air clear of the falling dust for just a moment. The Park girl could be clearly seen, staggering to her face, the eerie light in her eyes fading. She stared towards the throne, the Emperor, the Guard, for just a moment.

She turned and ran just as the dust clouded the air again.

The Golden Guard gave the sort of teenaged yelp that had been trained out of him meticulously, a squawking, awkward noise of terror and pain. He sprinted forward, coltish and clumsy over the fallen remnants of the ceiling. “Willow!”

Belos’ body was perfectly still- but for one arm, which elongated horribly as his nephew raced after the little traitor. It caught Hunter halfway down the stairs, wrapping around his arm with such strength that the boy spun almost all the way back, heaving him with relentless force. Legs pulled out from under him, the grip at his elbow did nothing to hold him up as the side of his head cracked against the last step with a sickening crunch. Blood began to seep into the perfect white of the cloak, the mask staring upwards, unseeing.

(fanfic asks post is here)

#thank you for asking anon i don't know you but im kissing you on the mouth

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dragonheart-swtor · 4 years

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I need to draw the rest of these fools’ daemons.

Daemon AU of my canon Imperial Agent, Erisine Ganne. Her daemon’s name is Akairos, and he’s a black racer snake.

More on Eris later, but in short: she’s my canon Imperial Agent and eventually becomes the Alliance Commander (though she’s not the one who gets stuck with the Emperor). She is perpetually Tired As Hell because of all the chaotic dumbasses she has to work with.

(Image Description: a thighs-up digital, colored portrait of Erisine, a Human woman with medium-tone brown skin, green eyes, and dark brown hair pulled into a bun.She has gold makeup patterns on the sides of her face, accentuating her cheekbones and running up her temples. She’s dressed in a purple uniform jacket and gray slacks, arms behind her back at parade rest. Around her neck coils a black racer snake, a black snake with a white belly and nose and dark brown eyes, who matches her unimpressed expression. End ID.)

#star wars #swtor #swtor ocs #daemon au #imperial agent #actually if you look up the black racer snake analysis on daemonpage.com/forum that'll give you a p good summary of her personality #erisine #using her full name for the tag so i don't accidentally end up in hellenism tags for the goddess eris by accident #my ocs #my art

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semper-draca · 3 years

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Tagged by: @nusaran ty! :D

How many works do you have on AO3?

13, which seems kinda wild when I think about it.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,289,495 in total. It’s pretty much 99% Iustitia XD

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

SWtOR. Previously I’ve written for InuYasha, Naruto, and AtLA, but those have since been deleted from my old FFN and my AO3

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Iustitia - 631

Libenter - 94

Dreaming - 59

Insigne - 44

An Officer and a Gentleman - 44

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do my best to respond to comments, but sometimes I forget. I’m sorry to everyone who I haven’t responded to, I promise I love and adore you, I just procrastinate a lot and then it’s been a long time and it feels weird to respond.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

None of my finished fics have angsty endings, given that they’re all one shots. That said, my incomplete fic, Iustitia, *will* have a happy ending I *promise* please believe me

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I tend not to. I think the closest thing I’ve written to a crossover is a daemon au for swtor, but that’s less of a crossover and more pulling a trope into swtor.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

eyup. Suffice it to say that it was stupid lol

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do! I’ve written both kinky smut and vanilla smut. I’ve written M/F, F/F, M/F/F, and I guess bits of M/M if you count the running joke of Lucian and Ille constantly getting interrupted by the plot every time they try to fuck.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yeah, years ago there was some site that I don’t even remember going around and stealing basically everything from AO3. Gone now tho

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Once as far as I know - it was for a Naruto fic that is now lost to time.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Oh god okay I have to do top five because otherwise I’ll probably die of indecision: Malavai Quinn/Gimrizh (F!SW) (SWTOR) Vette/Jaesa Willsaam (SWTOR) Kagome/Sesshomaru (InuYasah) Julian Bashir/Garak (Deep Space Nine) Sakura/Itachi (Naruto)

Whats a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Yikes uh, tbh I have no idea. I’ve got a number of unfinished fics kicking around, but once I complete Iustitia I honestly have no idea which I’ll return to and which I won’t.

What are your writing strengths?

I'm a vicious editor who can and will kill her darlings. To be honest though, I’ve had so many different people give me so many different answers that I have no idea.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I have to write in chronological order. I can rearrange scenes after their written, but I have to start on page one, scene one and write straight through. Skipping ahead to write different bits just doesn’t work for me.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I tend to write in the other language for individual words or short phrases. Apart from that, I just write it in english and indicate that it’s a different language via the dialogue tag or something. I find that’s generally easier to read.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

InuYasha! Back when I was a baby writer in middle school.

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Iustitia, hands down. It’s not done yet but it’s shaping up to be my magnus opus, as it were. It’s also spurred me into writing like a godamn maniac determined to rack up a word count like an assassin does a kill count. It pushed me into a writing career and when it’s finished, I’ll probably idk print it out and put it on my bookshelf or something lol

Tagging: @riajade01 @tishinada @inquisitorhotpants @pineaberry @sheyshen @dvrthncx and whoever else wants to do it :D

#swtor #my writing #get to know me i guess?

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sunsetofdoom · 3 years

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I don’t know much about my potential SWTOR daemons AU- obviously I have all the characters’ daemons figured out because that’s how my brain works, but there’s no plot.

The one thing I do know is that Sohnya would trade in her death touch for the ability to manually sever someone’s daemon with the touch of a finger.

#oc: sohnya rhastova #the only other thing I know is that she would do this to Void #and use it as her personal guard dog #do i have any semblance of what she would be Doing?#absolutely not

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semper-draca · 3 years

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Author Interview

I got tagged in the author interview meme by @tishinada... a while ago lol Sorry it took so long to do this :(

Name: Semper-Draca (shorted to ‘semper’ for most casual chat). I started this blog as a Harry Potter blog approximately five bajillion years ago before I got into swtor and I originally had a latin url because... harry potter. When I swapped away from HP, I wanted to keep the latin but I was also using the blue eyes white dragon as my profile pic for a lot of other things at the time. Hence Semper-Draca, which translates to ‘always a dragon’. Dragon is usually ‘draco’ but I did a bit of declension fiddling to make it feminine instead of masculine.

Fandoms: SWtOR! I post other things here too, but that’s my main obsession. I also post a teensy bit of Dragon Age, a teensy bit of Star Wars at large, and honestly I don’t know, probably just a melange of whatever I happen to be into at the moment.

Where do you post: I post all my SWtOR fanart on tumblr, and I used to maintain an artstation account that I’ve let fall into disuse. In terms of writing, I post things like short prompt responses on tumblr, but nearly everything I post to my AO3, in part because all my writing is way too goddamn long to fit tumblr’s format.

Most popular one shot: Dreaming, which was a quick little soulmate prompt response, where when you sleep, you dream of whatever your soulmate is doing.

Most popular multi chapter: Iustitia. It’s Gimrizh(F!SW)/Quinn, currently sitting at over a million words, and it’s basically my magnum opus of a fic. It veers away from canon storyline frequently at the beginning and has since abandoned it entirely. Give it a read if you’re not intimidated by wordcount.

Favourite Story written: Honestly, Iustitia. I’m really proud of it and it’s the thing that got me back into writing. I hadn’t written since my early years of high school and took about a three year break before I started writing the original version of Iustitia. That fic really made me the writer I am today and I’ll always love it for that reason, even if time makes me judge its writing more harshly.

Fic Nervous to post: Gonna be honest, I’ve kinda run out of fucks when it comes to posting fic. I’ve got a number of pwp one shots up and I kinda wasn’t nervous about posting any of them. That said, I do have some work up that I published anonymously...

How I choose titles: I open up my trusty copy of Wheelock’s Latin Dictionary. That’s pretty much it lol

Do I outline: Sort of. Before starting a chapter I’ll write a blurb outline at the bottom. It’s mostly incomprehensible to anyone besides me, and it’s usually only a single paragraph long. Sentences in that outline are usually in the variety of “sexy times happen” “The Fight Scene you know how this goes” “Scourge says ominous shit” ect

Complete. Apart from one shots, the only thing I have that’s complete right now is Nivalis Osculum aka that vampire au that I wrote a few years ago. In my head it’s a trilogy, but it’s kinda being shelved as fanfic for a while in the hopes that I can eventually convince my agent to let me work on it and try to sell it. If smeyer can rake in the $$ from her mormon superhero trash, I should be allowed to publish gothic queer vampires lol

Coming soon?: The next Iustitia chapter. It’s going to be a solid 75% fluff, happiness, and Good Things Happening.

In progress: I promise I’m still working on Anima Mea, the daemon au. I’m plodding through Pierce’s first chapter right now. Apart from that, all my in progress work is for original novels.

Prompts: I always like doing prompt memes and stuff, either for art or writing, although I admit it often takes me a while to get to them. I totally am not ignoring you, I’m just slow.

Upcoming work: Uh. *shrug*

tagging: @inquisitorhotpants @pineaberry @starrypawz @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @sunsetofdoom and @anchanted-one

#swtor #thanks for the tag this was a ton of fun!#as always if i tagged you and you don't want to do it no pressure #or if i didnt tag you but you want to do it cause it looks fun then take this as a tag :D

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