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The man was tall, thin, and pale. A pale frayed suit on pale hair and pale skin, skin that, though it shone with an uncanny luster, wrinkled and sagged and pulled taut as it moved, as skin was prone to do in any human past a certain age. Through its paper-thin fragility Stephen could see a blush of warmth as blood coursed by beneath. Exactly what one would expect to see.

The man by no means looked to be dead. But there was something about him that just felt incorrect. He moved with a total disregard (borne from ignorance, or possibly disrespect) for the obvious fragility of the body he inhabited. When the man leapt up from the bench before Stephen, he felt an urge to gently grab the man's arm and guide him back to his seat. The overall impression was that of an elderly used-car salesman rendered effectively immortal through the consumption of vast quantities of caffeine.

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the sound of fire, as the wood hears it

On one end you shrivel and die, blackening and curling to nothing to the accompaniment of a million hissing screams.

the other end of you feels a warmth to its back and calls it sunshine. Above you the cheerful blue smiles down, unfettered, and the air below lies paralyzed, and you are alone, and so the flames will stop only when there is nothing left of you to burn

girls will say they’re fine and then’ll write whatever this is after watching one (1) silly little reel of someone taping a microphone to the inside of a burning branch

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Heaven Sent novelization test (Doctor Who)

As you come into this world, something else is also born.  You begin your life, and it begins a journey towards you. It moves slowly, but it never stops.  Wherever you go, whatever path you take, it will follow.  Never faster, never slower, always coming.  You will run. It will walk.  You will rest. It will not.  One day, you will linger in the same place too long.  You will sit too still  or sleep too deep,  and when, too late, you rise to go,  you will notice a second shadow next to yours.  Your life will then be over.

HEAVEN SENT

An agonized, strangled cry split the silence of the room. Then there was a horrid stench of burning flesh, shortly followed by a heavy thump, then silence once more. 

Except—there was the matter of the transporter in the center of the brick-walled chamber. A few lights glimmered around the rounded base, flashing faster and faster as the gentle hum of hidden machinery heightened into a full-bodied roar. The glass cylinder blazed with light, and then the roar faded and the light within the cylinder was swiftly replaced by the silhouette of a man. An older man; and one a bit haggard around the edges at that. 

The Doctor staggered. His head collided with the wall of the transport in an audible smack, and he lept back, coughing and gasping for breath. His trembling fingers fumbled for a moment with the door to the pod. Then—success. The door glided open, and the Doctor stepped gingerly out into wherever it was he had been sent. He felt his boot sink into the floor in an unexpected way as his weight shifted out of the pod. 

Sand. Peculiar.  

Long-distance trasmats were interesting things. They functioned by decomposing energy, matter, and information in one location, then simply recomposing it in a new one, in that order. Though simple in concept, they were technological marvels. It took most races many thousands of years, ten thousands of years, even, to stumble their way into the discovery of the fifty-nine time-and-space-transcending mathematical formulas necessary to make the things actually run. And even then, it typically took them another few centuries to get the hang of transmatting anything more complex than a few orderly atoms. The transmats invariably seemed to have an upper limit on what they could convey at once, and, in many cases, whatever additional “non-critical” information that might remain, such as one’s favorite color or their memories of their ninety-first birthday, would lag a few seconds behind the rest. This was one such occasion. The Doctor could not recall how or why he was here. And then he could. 

Clara—the quantum shade—Everything you’re about to say I already know—a scream—Clara’s hand against his cheek—His own voice: Don’t leave me—And hers: Everyone faces it alone, in the end—that awful scream—Clara on the cold ground—Clara cold in his arms as he walked her back inside—and Clara cold under that blanket he had used, with shaking hands, to veil her corpse. The Doctor’s countenance hardened. 

He bent to gather a handful of sand and let it run through his fingers. It was smooth and fine and carried the same chill as the air. On closer inspection, its qualities were more characteristic of some variety of dust. Ash, perhaps.

“If you think because she is dead, I am weak, then you understand very little,” he warned the empty chamber, and wiped his hand in a single stiff gesture. “If you were any part of killing her, and you are not afraid, then you understand nothing at all. 

“So, for your own sake, understand this. I am the Doctor—I'm coming to find you— and I will never, ever stop.”

The chamber did not react. His unseen foe was unimpressed, or possibly speechless with fear. Most likely the latter, and as they should be. He had a reputation to uphold.

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So I rediscovered a draft of this like a day ago and thought. huh. There might be something here. So I went over it, made some edits, and now I'm thinking of just going ahead and finishing it over winter break. This represents about the first 5 minutes of the ep, so if my math is right then this is already 10% done. That's a totally doable project in 3 weeks. Right guys. right

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on today’s episode of Wild Things I Overhear At Work:

Preteen boy and his sister are looking at jewelry. He picks up a “555” necklace.

preteen boy: If i saw a girl wearing this, I’d marry her on the spot just to send her straight to hell

Nobody reacts. the pair walk on to look at more jewelry.

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There’s a bittersweetness to looking out at your yard and realizing the trees you planted as a child are no longer saplings.

Now they are strong and tall, and their stems, no longer tender and green, have disappeared behind an armor of bark skin.

The world of your childhood is gone. Everything has changed. Everything has grown.

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a dream i woke up crying from :)

The dream began with my death. I was hit by a car and instantly became a ghost. I didn’t realize at first; it took a while to catch on that no one was reacting to my presence. Eventually I realized in a place kind of like a public bathroom. I think I might have entered a stall when someone was showering, and they didn’t react. Funny in retrospect, but absolutely horrifying at the time because it confirmed my worst suspicions. I was indeed dead.

At this point I didn’t even do anything, I just broke down and started sobbing as the realization of it all washed over me, and I realized that I’d never see my husband again. 

Then, I felt an odd tugging sensation in my stomach. Time has always been a bit of a fluid medium for ghosts, and I was about to discover this first-hand. I blinked, and suddenly found myself seated next to my husband Pete on the couch of our apartment— with him to my left, and his sister Irene with long, dark hair to my right, on her phone. Stunned, I reached out to touch his arm. He was warm and solid. He glanced over at me and smiled. Even now, awake, I can visualize him so well. Like me, he seemed to be in his early thirties, and was a natural redhead, but with eyebrows dark like his eyes, which were a rich brown. He wore a fairly thick beard, too, which was neatly groomed into a rounded shape. His eyes crinkled upwards at the corners when he smiled— the very beginnings of the wrinkles he would wear in old age. When he grinned at me then, I had to fight with everything in me not to burst into tears at the thought of him growing old without me. Already, my time left with him was rapidly running out. I could feel it.

I shot a nervous look down at my phone— the date and time were from today, minutes before I died. The first time around, I had already left the house by now. Something was going on here. 

I scooted up next to Peter and laid my head on his shoulder. He wrapped a warm, comforting arm around me. “What’s up? You call out of work?” 

“Yeah,” I said, swallowing. “Guess I wasn’t feeling well.” I guessed I had teleported here to the moments soon after I stepped out of the apartment the first time around. 

“Aw, I’m sorry.” His arm tightened in a half-hug. “Want me to get you anything?” 

“No, that’s alright.” How much time did I have left with him? A minute? Two?

He started talking about an ad he saw for Universal, and how he went to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter as a kid and would love to go again sometime. “I always wanted to go to Universal,” I said. “But it was always too expensive… now I’ll never get to.” Despair crawled into my voice, and I shut my mouth, trying to focus on the warmth of Peter next to me. He leaned back to give me a puzzled grin. “We can still go. We just need to start saving, that’s all. It might take a little while, but that’s fine.”

The seconds were trickling down to nothing. I clung to him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Suddenly, his body shifted— his phone was going off. My stomach sinking, I leaned away from him to give him space to take the call. 

He turned away from me as he raised the phone to his ear. A few moments later the life drained from his face. He swallowed, blinked, and hung up the phone, cutting off the voice of the somber woman on the other side.

Why was I still here? I should’ve been yanked back to my present time. Could he still see me? “Pete?” I whispered, hope rising in me. 

He slowly looked down at where I had been sitting, and I’ll never forget the expression of heartrending confusion on his face. His sister, on the other side of the couch, had caught enough of the call to be just as alarmed. When she raised her eyes from her phone she turned white as a sheet. Their eyes met across the couch, looking straight past me. Peter’s jaw worked for a moment as he tried to speak. 

“Did you hear her come back in? After she left for work?” He asked hoarsely. We had a security system that would announce whenever the front door opened. Irene slowly shook her head. “I didn’t either,” Pete said. 

It felt like my heart was ripping itself to shreds. I pulled myself against him again, praying for him to wrap his arm around me one last time. But he didn’t. He felt as warm and real as ever, but he didn’t react to me at all. Instead, he looked off in the distance for a moment. I saw his eyes glaze with tears, and they darted around a few times before settling back to look at me. Or rather, look through me. Because to him, I had vanished. He was staring at the spot where I had been. He was looking for me, right into my eyes, but he couldn’t find me.

It felt like the entire world was falling apart around me. I finally let the tears come, and buried my head against his shoulder. He didn’t react. I clung to him harder, as if I could bring myself back to life out of sheer force of will. Wet, keening sobs escaped my lips. He still didn’t react.

Desperation rose in my chest. I was going to be yanked back to my own time any second now. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to be here with him forever. I sobbed even harder. And it was then that I felt a massive shift within me, and Peter and our living room disappeared. I had woken up.

I was 19, and alone in my bed.

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I LOVE TORMENTING MY LITTLE GUYS !!!!

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one who was once xithara, bloody of fang and cold of heart.

elliot my poor lost beloved ❤️ this is part one of a diptych— the next will feature adonis (az’raem).

i did this without a reference somehow and it turned out WAYY better than i expected, so hip hip hooray for that

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you guys really seem to like it when I tenpost sooooo *tosses this into your enclosure*

[dug this one up from the archives... it's a wip and will probably always be one, so you guys get to enjoy it as is]

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list of incredibly niche tropes

a character gradually loses their memory throughout the story, heartbreakingly forgetting loving moments they've shared with others

shapeshifters that are still working on perfectly mimicking humans, resulting in something that looks entirely human but that makes all your instincts scream run.

a main character dies quietly and/or alone, unnoticed by everyone else

the antagonist defeats the protagonist in battle, then cradles them in their arms, because they know the protag despises them with their whole being and they want to torment them just a little more before they die.

a character receives prophetic dreams of a future that will come to pass if everything goes well. In these dreams, them and the love interest gradually fall in love. In reality, though, everything does not go well. Character A dies knowing everything that could have happened between them and B, but did not.

these are all used in my book btw..! reblog w niche tropes in your story... I need more for my collection. the nichier the better

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having oc's is crazy because I don't even listen to instrumental music and yet... I need to make a soundtrack for their imaginary movie... so naturally I have now listened to Interstellar, Soul, The Social Network, Doctor Who Series 9 and 10, and all the Valorant songs. the playlist is one and a half hours long. next up is Dune. there is no end in sight

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old concept sketch of adonis. at this point in the story he's nearing the end of his transformation into Az'raem and has lost a lot of his memories as Adonis. It's scary to forget the name of your own mom :(

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old design concepts for Az'raem, favorite of Seraphax and, later, co-ruler of Thrilt.

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about me (+ my book!)

hey all. my name's reine ✌️ I'm an artist and person who writes... idk if I feel comfy calling myself a writer yet,... lowkey feel like I have to earn that. (probably by actually writing something to completion or something)

right now I'm working on my first novel, a queer YA fantasy called "The Gentle Death of Adonis," [I'll add a little info on that below!] and I'm going to use this blog to post art and tidbits about the characters, world lore, plot, etc. so stay tuned!!

+ also I do post art totally unrelated to my stories sometimes, so there's that. what im only human

The Gentle Death of Adonis (tgdoa) - Blurb

The only thing seventeen-year-old Adonis Yun would never admit to another living being is that he’s hopelessly lonely, and nothing seems to help. Elliot Morgan, on the other hand, would never admit anything to anybody. At least, not after getting disowned by her own family. It’s not like they were ever close… but still. When Adonis and Elliot cross paths one insignificant day, they are thrust into a fantastical other universe and faced with a sobering realization: they aren’t human at all, but the reincarnations of two mythological lovers who perished over a thousand years ago. And if they don’t manage to find a way back home soon, they will lose themselves to the past as their memories are rapidly replaced. On top of that, apparently the end times are nigh, and an ancient prophecy ordains that Adonis must save the Mortal Plane from its imminent descent into Hell.

On their quest to find passage back to Earth (and to save the world while they're at it), the two must reckon with their differences, their shared past, and the mistakes that have followed them from life to life. All the while, an ominous detail of Fate’s prophecy hangs over their heads: Adonis must die. And Fate is never wrong.

Main characters:

Adonis Yun - he/him (trans) - reincarnation of the human Az'raem

cowardly and doormatish

insecure

clingy

serial yapper

what he lacks in spine he makes up for with kindness and earnest authenticity

Powers: well, he trained for knighthood in his past life, so he's in a situation where he's gradually regaining that muscle memory (if that counts as a power)

Elliot Morgan - she/he - reincarnation of the angelfey Xithara

assertive

loud

emotionally constipated

independent (READ: self-serving)

has no friends :( until Adonis! :)

Powers: they're gender-fluid. shape-shifting, ofc

Check out the #the gentle death of adonis and #my writing tags for more info !!

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After seventeen years, I’d finally found my actual, real life soulmate, and she wouldn’t even look me in the eye. My own soulmate hated me. Was there anyone left who didn't? I felt a knotted pit coalesce in my stomach, and I hugged the bedcovers around myself as I tried to ignore the hard lump in my throat.

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they are in LOVE,,,

old sketch of Adonis and Elliot, the main characters of the Gentle Death of Adonis— my ya fantasy romance ❤️ i wonder if I should make a separate post infodumping about the story bc there’s way too much to say here lmaoo.

(Adonis goes by he/him and elliot uses she/he)

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Hi! Your art is absolutely *stunning*, do you mind if people use your art as a screensaver or background on their phone or device? Totally cool either way, just wanted to ask to make sure! ^^

Omg thank you! And yes I'm totally okay with that, go for it!! And ty for asking <3