#Bra’aka is me lol

[tryingtimi]

“Make me love myself so that I might love you.”

Devoted to None But One

Since I’m living my Cronyln era right now, I couldn’t help myself. Rip everything else I’m doing in the meantime (like drawings and, you know, work).

Context: The group goes to draar land where there is a tradition that one needs to prove themself to the Queen somehow to stay on her lands. Its not necessarily a canon thing, and not this simple, but yeah. Bra’aka vouched for Cronyl anyway.

CHARACTER EXPLORATION | DYNAMIC EXPLORATION | FLUFF IG | WC: 681

Avelyn had been kneading her sleeve into a ball, she was aware of that. However, she couldn’t stop.

“Show me,” the draar Queen ordered. “Where does your faith lies, small one? Where would you pledge your loyalty to, what would be your last wish for your divine? Show me, and I will take you all as mine.”

Every eye in the room turned to Cronyl as one, waiting. Lines of warriors, shieldmaidens, advisors. Their own group, with Bra’aka on the front. Avelyn was crumbling under their expectant eyes on Cronyl’s behalf.

And not in vain.

Her throat turned sore from the dryness, and she couldn’t swallow from the wet lump it formed there. The worry of how things will turn around.

Because they have seen every present warrior pledge their loyalty to Her Majesty. They descended to one knee and assured her of their faith. Of faith in their Gods, who chose Her to be their voice. They all have witnessed it, and so Avelyn could only stop herself from blinking or breathing rapidly.

The Queen knew what she was doing. She knew, who she needed to address her challenge.

Cronyl had no faith, no religion. He would be loyal to whatever seems right to him, but he’s not believing. He does not pray, nor worship. He’s devoted to none…

Oh dear God above the heavens!

There was a moment of silence and pure stillness when he descended onto one knee without hesitation — right towards Avelyn.

Gasps filled the quiet, and she would have joined them if she wouldn’t be stunned to stone. Her legs were rooted into the ground, her chest vibrating from a sudden thunder. He bowed his head just enough, so he could still look at her from under his lashes.

And those ever-intense eyes had made it clear; whatever he was about to do or say, it will be everything.

He spoke on the tongue she couldn’t nearly understand. In the native tongue of this land, on the language of the draar. Yet, the powerful tone of his words, accompanied by the gentle rhythm of his sentence, well, those softened her heart from shock into hope. Wouldn’t she battled with her emotions about the very man who was kneeling before her, she shouldn’t have been on the edge of tears, perhaps.

“Rise up, honourable one,” the Queen ordered in the common tongue. Her melodic voice brought Avelyn back to the present and reminded her they were among a crowd.

Cronyl lingered his gaze at her soul for a moment longer, before he did as he was told.

She was finally able to drag her eyes away and escape by turning to the Queen instead. Who was smiling a little.

“Bra’aka Suthbrog, your companion is accepted. You may all stay here as one of ours.” She gestured towards their group from her seat. “Welcome.”

A belly trembling, one accord laugh came out through Bra’aka’s mouth as he nodded. Then, the crowd began cheerfully conversing, some shouting for nak’oro juice, some suggesting they all move to the drinking house. The air of strangers shattered into pieces, and at least one local approached Avelyn’s companions. They treated them as long-seen friends and even Cronyl got caught by Bra’aka’s son, Xorrum to join the gathering.

Avelyn looked after him, then at the place he stood before. And only then, she became painfully aware of her heated face.

What had just happened?

She followed the crowd flowing out from the room, barely noticing Bra’aka’s presence beside her. Yet he did not go anywhere, as if guarding her side.

“Make me love myself so that I might love you,” he murmured suddenly. Avelyn looked up at him, her heart still thundering in her chest like the drums that began singing outside.

“What does that mean?”

“I have not the faintest idea,” Bra’aka said with a knowing smile on his face, “but that is what he had told you, little gold.”

[tryingtimi]

Lmao they're hilarious 😂 Elijah is the best.

This is so much fun tho! Thank yoi @bloodlessheirbyjacques ! Here goes a little scene then lol <3 (can't write without exposition sorry lmao)

Everyone stayed up late at Bra’aka’s house, chilling around the fire, when Eldnar leaned back on his hands behind him, completely bored and told the group they should play a game.

Avelyn and Nareethi got excited about it. The rest didn’t really pay attention. Bra’aka listened the conversation from the kitchen, while he focused mostly on the snacks he was making with his wife.

Eldnar smirked, when the girls asked what kind of game, then explained them what’s it about. Avelyn got flustered hearing it, while Nareethi looked more confused.

“Isn’t screwing someone is a bad thing too? It sounds like a bad thing.”

Language differences was always a fun one for Eldnar, but the Shar-Dlin wasn’t asking him specifically and it was a delight to listen Avelyn to do the explanation. The growing redness on her face was almost invisible by the playful light of the fire. Almost.

“It’s late and she’s practically a kid. No game.” Cronyl butted in, sitting on a chair, eyes closed, arms crossed, head resting at the wall.

“Hah! You’re all kids here.” Bra’aka noted from the kitchen.

“Oh, come on,” exclaimed Eldnar. “You should loosen up, buddy. We all should.”

Only the crackling fire and the sweet-scented efforts of the draar couple filled the air for some minutes. The girls sitting with Eldnar on ground was either confused or shy, Cronyl, Bra’aka and his wife seemed totally unaffected by the idea, while Syon and Darmon still curled over a map, studying it.

“I’d screw Darmon.” Every person turned to Syon, when she suddenly spoke up, still looking at the map with a straight face. “Marriage is not my thing, but it wouldn’t be so terrible with him either, I guess. And I’d kill Cronyl.”

Darmon glanced at her with an amused but very pleased look on his face. Eldnar felt victorious and smiled wildly, then began to tease Cronyl. This made the others laugh or chuckle, so Cronyl opened up his eyes and gave them a flat look, even though he seemed calm.

“Screw all of you.”

“What?” Nareethi’s eyes widened. “But… from what she said that’s…”

“He didn’t mean that way, Nare. Mr.Grumpy is just in a bad mood as always. That’s why we should have some fun bothering him.” Eldnar was basically grinning when Cronyl shot him a death glare. “That was one. Now the rest. Who would you kill and marry?”

With Avelyn, Nareethi and Eldnar’s very curious stares and Syon and Darmon’s waiting side glances, Cronyl just gave up eventually. After a sigh, of course.

“I would gladly kill you, right now. And marry Avel.”

Avelyn looked like someone who fell asleep under the sun at this point, but she was also smiling, even though she wouldn’t dare to take a look at Cronyl. Eldnar couldn’t blame her, this man’s blatant attitude would probably make even him pause for a hot second. However, her reaction also urged him to raise a curious and encouraging brow at her. She couldn’t hold his eyes.

“Well, I would, I mean… It’s obvious, isn’t it? You all know it, so I don’t have to… I would of course... marry Cronyl... ugh, screw him, and… I definitely would kill you, Eldnar!”

Eldnar let out a laugh, as Syon turned to them, chuckling. Darmon nodded a little, probably to reassure her that indeed everyone was aware of that, while Nareethi wouldn’t stop asking her about details.

He could swear he even saw Cronyl peeking out under his eyes and what? Was that a very faint smile on his lips? How fun, these two.

“I’m getting popular in that one, I see! Now, I would marry Nare, because if you guys just forgot, she is older than us – which I’m kinda into – and is a very caring person. I loved that weird looking fruit you gave me when I got sick too. You’re even more of a wife material than Bra’aka with his meals. But, I would screw Darmon and/or Cronyl for sure. For who would I kill, well, I probably need to say Cronyl for this one too, beacuse from the look on his face, I don’t have much time left.”

it’s blorbo blursday!!

it’s just a fun phrase to say

ok, for your blorbo blursday:

For the blorbo giving you brainrot right now: have them play screw/marry/kill with 3 other characters from that wip. (bonus points if you respond in their tone)

[tryingtimi]

33

A Home So Far, Yet So Near

Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Alex Sloan. It was a song you showed me, and I immediately started writing a Metalsea bit for it. And now I ended up finishing it, after many many months, lol. So thank you, love! I don't think it needs so much context, it's just a little siblings dynamic exploration between Syon and Avelyn.

TINY CONTEXT: Avelyn and Syon weren't so close when they were little, and their paths separate. After a long-long time, they meet again, and have some bonding time.

BOOK II EXPLORATION | DYNAMIC EXPLORATION | MOSTLY FLUFF | SISTER DYNAMIC | WC: 1787

Yaran’s Mid-Summer Festival held such a strange version in its glowing belly.

Avelyn smiled at Cronyl, suppressing a sigh.

The grandiose bonfire crackled in the centre of the desert, people dancing and singing around. They ate, drank, and celebrated in a way that could nearly convince Avelyn that life wasn’t fully known back in her home. Bra’aka could lure even Cronyl to the dancefloor, teasing relentlessly about his make-believe inability. They did not last too long, yet the ghostly touch of a smile still rested on his lip when he walked back to her. Since then, they sat on the two sides of this rough stone table, watching the lot, hands touching on the top just enough to feel the other’s presence.

Avelyn should have wanted to dance with Cronyl. Every couple did that. She, however, was overwhelmed by another feeling. She loved to be around Cronyl, she wanted to be around him. But tonight, for the longest time perhaps, her mind was not focused on him. Tonight, she looked at the colorful, gemlike fire lamps and saw herself as a kid, reaching for them to grab it; just like a little one did the same thing not far from them. Tonight, she noticed the rigid little stumbles she and Syon made, when they practised the required siblings dance — exactly like two little ones on the edge of the dancefloor. Tonight, the sweet-scented desserts on the tables have made her see herself nervously pulling on Father’s clothes to get his attention and let Syon convince him to buy them some. Just like the Shar-Dlin twins did, doe-eyes watching the desserts intently on the food table.

Tonight, Avelyn realized this Mid-Summer Festival wasn’t so much different after all. If only this epiphany could have filled the hollow that a home being out of reach has left.

“Shall we?” The voice of crackling fire asked, earning her attention.

Avelyn looked up to find her sister standing before her, one delicate hand extended forward. Her features bore the same calm confidence she used to see in her in their entire life. Yet, she could also see her shoulders slump in a way that others might have missed. But not Avelyn.

Not her.

Avelyn accepted the hand. It was a strange feeling really, her hand in Syon’s. Something she rarely experienced, even in their childhood.

She rose from her seat and was about to turn to Cronyl so she could inform him — or ask for reassurance of her decision. However, he was already walking past Syon’s back. One, metal-focused eye glanced at Avelyn and a slight nod made her feel gratefulness bloom in her chest. If someone, Cronyl knew way too well when to be on his way.

With that, Avelyn stayed alone with her sister. Syon held her hand carefully, but firmly, leading her onto the dance floor. Only then, did Avelyn notice how the gathering settled and slowed down. The fire still flickered and blazed at the centre, but there were very few people standing. The music died out, so the only melody came from the djanvaar’s gentle humming. Fluttering, playing starbugs conquered the dance floor, tiny explosions of their small stars lighting up even more. She wondered if the old tales had been right; that wild starbugs only did that if they were happy.

Syon stopped them in the middle, equally far from everyone and everything. She then turned to Avelyn and slid her hand over her waist. Such a strange feeling still. Avelyn did the same, noticing her movements being more rigid than relaxed. It wasn’t something she was used to. Yet she wanted to stay.

So she lifted her gaze to look into her sister’s eyes.

Bad idea.

They were staring at her as well, both of that unusual tinge she only saw on warriors. Syon never failed to seem intimidating or let her gaze be just a little less intense. That was one of the reasons why Avelyn never really locked eyes with her.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” She didn’t mean to speak, but she couldn’t stop herself either. “This festival. So strange. I mean, what they did with all these plants as decoration and the djaanvar as some kind of musicbox. It’s eccentric the least. Can you imagine what Mother would think?”

Children laughed in the background, their voices turning small but just as full of joy as before. Syon scoffed, yet a genuine half-curve painted her face softer instead of the humourless smile she always gifted people with.

“She’d be out of her mind. But she’d enjoy the dance, if Father would ask her for a round, that is,” she chuckled, and Avelyn needed to swallow back a surprised gaping. A similar giggle left her throat, as unintentional as unstoppable.

Their bare feet tapped the warm ground close beside each other, Syon’s presence ruling their dance. She guided Avelyn’s movements just like she did when they were small. Those lessons were one of the most challenging in their childhood. She remembered clearly because they were a spectacle back then, the peculiar siblings who were not easy to forget.

She felt a gentle push on her back, looking back into Syon’s eyes.

“Do you remember our dance lessons?”

Avelyn opened her mouth, then looked at her feet that almost stepped on Syon’s accidentally. Her feet avoided Avelyn’s as proficiently as always, smoothing out their performance the best she could. Yet, no force was in her anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Avelyn started, trying to lean back. Syon let her. “Clearly, I do.”

Another chuckle joined the humming of the djaanvar.

“You’re doing great, Lyn. Dance Master Liona would be proud. She’d even forgive all the headache we gave her.” They turned, the flames coming to Avelyn’s sight, outlining Syon’s form like blazing fireflies in the night. “She might never forget us.”

“Not much sibling pair made her nearly quit. We could thank Father’s soft-spoken charm that she stayed — that’s what Mother told me.”

The memory came alive in the fire’s flickers, Avelyn’s eyes following their little forms sway to one side and the other. Rigid hands touched, a gaping distance laying between their child flame-figure. Too much distance. “Closer!” and “Act like you’re siblings” faintly echoed in her ears.

She held Syon’s sparkling crimson eyes and found herself smiling with her.

Her body remembered the tension of those touches. Of being so close to the girl who shared the same blood with. Of fear, terrible fear from dancing with a sibling that was no more than a stranger.

“I’m so sorry, Lyn,” Syon whispered, yet it could be heard loud and clear. Confident. Genuine. Avelyn kept the scratching feeling in her throat at bay, forcing herself to keep looking at her sister. To keep listening to her. “I know I’ve been always farther away than I should have been. There is no excuse for that, though I had many. You tried to come close, yet I did not let you. I believed you chose the Temple only to pull yourself out of the noble betrothal misery. At some point, I believed you did it just to let every responsibility of our house fall on me, and me only.”

A feather touch weighed on Avelyn’s back, asking — begging to come a little closer.

She did so.

“I’m aware that was foolish,” Syon continued, voice softer than Mother’s night song. Softer than Avelyn had ever heard. “You might have had a shard of that reason, but I know you merely wanted to get away. From Mother, from Father… from me. You need connections, I realise that now. People to be close with, to be open with. You care so much, it’s frightening. Especially for someone like me. I felt threatened by you, I confess. I envied your ability to read people the way you did; with ease and compassion. And that made me bitter, because compassion I lack, even still…”

“No.” Avelyn’s voice was but a whisper, but nothing had sounded clearer. Syon smiled, her eyes misting the most subtle way. “You do not, sister. I was just as selfish, only more of a coward. You faced your duties and expectations with valiant grace. You had every right to…”

“Lyn.”

A delicate finger, tangled with Avelyn’s, swiped a single teardrop away from her cheek. So kind. So close. So tender. Hearing the kind little nickname Father gave her constantly rolling off of Syon’s lips made her own quiver. All the memories of the lonely girl practising dances in her room alone faded, longing for affection withering away. A glance, a joke, a smile. Everything her soul starved for from a sister out of reach. It twirled in the fire, slowly blending into smoke, and joining the cooling air around them.

Syon embraced her, when Avelyn dared leaning over her shoulder, cheek pressed in the crook of her neck.

“Let me have my regrets, and I let you have yours. Both of us learned and changed, all right? And oh how you did so. I regret how I pushed you away, how I abandoned you, but I am exceptionally proud of who you became, little sister. It was and still is all you. I can only hope you are to forgive me, so I can keep watching your path of becoming an incredible woman even further.”

Words crackled in her throat along with the fire’s flames, hands holding each other so close, that Avelyn found it hard to believe. A soft, silent hiccup left her lips when she felt a distant wetness on her shoulder.

“Not only me. I wanted to become like you, sister. Your memory gave me strength when I used up mine. Even if you couldn’t give me affection, you gave me strength. You gave me will and a role model. I regret not being able to stand beside you when we were little, but I am grateful for a bastion in need,” she breathed, losing herself in the swaying.

A throaty giggle made Syon’s chest resonate, making Avelyn smile along under her closed, drenched lashes. A bastion in need; Father’s attempt to be romantic with Mother. Their only humour source from their childhood.

Huddled beside the fire, Avelyn could still feel the chill that slowly settled onto the horizon, but she was not cold in the embrace of her sister. They stayed tangled, close as never before, until the fire began to flicker. Syon hummed with the djaanvar, yet not the same melody, but an old song they used to sleep to. Avelyn couldn’t help, but join, feeling a weight so profound crumble. She might have been a great distance away from home, yet she did not feel the absence anymore.

Not beside Syon, her sister.

[tryingtimi]

Picrew OC Portraits

Thank you for the tags @bloodlessheirbyjacques and @writingonesdreams! After Jacques helped me out how picrew works, I totally lost myself in creating these guys so ugh. I’ll def post more things made in picrews, because I did a lot already.

Anyway, I’ll post the Metalsea cast for now because I can’t include all of it here lol. (My love also suggested me to tag you @writingonesdreams anyway because you might like them, so :D)

From left to right: Darmon Strotagor, Syonehlia Dione, Avelyn Dione

From left to right: Izohr, Drehana (hey, love ;)), Eldnar Ronwel.

For Eldnar I used a different picrew to catch his vibe more accurately. Also, our main boy, Cronyl Eldenwer gets two portaits, because he usually wears an eye patch, but I wanted one where his hidden eye is visible too, so, heh, yeah.

And Bra’aka is missing again because there’s no picrew where I can make him with his lion-dragon features sigh.

Either way, I’m tagging some lovely people to do this if they want to: @jess-p-edits, @approximately20blorbos, @aschlindartroom (I’ll tag you later for the IQRUS team legend), @aalinaaaaaa, @friendlyneighborhood-writer, @the-void-writes.