#FL snippets

[violant-apologia]

i don't know if i ever shared this apologist writing i did a while ago, so:

“I have penned poems in all the many colours of the Neath. Here I shall relate some of their effects.”

Peligin: “Writing in peligin inspires some kind of fear, irregardless of the content written. I have seen battle-hardened zailors left pallid at tame horrors, and the hands that pull society’s strings rendered clammy with fear of unseen metaphor.”

Violant: “My colour of choice. It nails a piece into memory, inspires relation to various memories. It is no substitute for quality writing, make no mistake – but it renders poignant words yet more so.”

Apocyan: “I find apocyan tales the most inspiring to readers: the easiest to visualise. They are perversely compelling; you can find yourself nodding along to ideas you would usually find rather disagreeable.”

Viric: “Writing in viric seems, at first, to have no abnormal results (besides pointed comments on the novelty of green ink). As could be expected, the effects become pronounced behind the mirror, shaping the reader’s dreams to imitate the writing.”

Cosmogone: “I had expected cosmogone and viric to have similar effects, being together the palette of Parabola. A surprise, then, that it seems to have more immediate results: inspiring nostalgia and memories of sunlight, true or false. Perhaps the glass-rumours I’ve heard about the Parabolan sun have some merit…”

Irrigo: “I’ve never written in irrigo.”

Gant: “Gant is a strange colour. It seems to affect the writing more than the reading; I find it unnaturally hard to write in it anything other than what I know to be true. It's a useful tool for dispelling self-deception; if only you didn’t have to snuff all the lamps to read it!”

[edenforum]

i think im mainly going to be using this site to post snippets idk i have adhd and its hard to remember to post here

[showmey0urfangs]

𝚆𝙸𝙿 𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢

The boy’s infatuation came as no surprise. Louis knew how their kind looked to human eyes. It was the same way Lestat had looked to him the first night they met, and during the long months they had courted each other—like a vision out of a dream, a creature with beauty that had defied even Louis's wildest imagination and that he'd found himself irresistibly drawn to.  Louis felt lightheaded, overwhelmed with how the boy was crowding his space now, his hands reaching forward to touch him as if on instinct.  “Take me with you Louis,” the boy pleaded, his blue eyes misted over. “There is nothing for me here but boredom and misery.” Louis stepped back, desperate to put some distance between them. He felt the cold stone wall pressing against his back, and it sent a shiver down his spine. This was the one mistake he could not afford to make. He couldn’t let himself get caught in some misguided transferred feelings for this boy. He did not belong here. He needed to get back home, to his time, to Lestat—his Lestat. He needed to leave before he could disrupt the boy’s life any more than he already had. “That’s not true,” Louis argued halfheartedly. “You have your family here, and you have your friend Nicholas.” That seemed to give the boy pause. Louis saw it clearly in his limpid mind, as he mulled the thought over.  “Yes, but Nicki wants to escape too you know,” the boy said finally. “He likes to pretend he hates Paris but he has no more a desire to stay here than I do.” The boy took another step forward, and he was once again in Louis’s space, so impossibly close. Louis could feel the delicious warmth radiating off of him, hear the blood rushing beneath his rosy skin, hear his strong heart thundering erratically against his ribs.  “Take me with you Louis,” the boy pleaded again. “I promise I will not be a burden. I can be of use to you. I know this land like the back of my hand, I could be your guide…”  The boy’s hands were on Louis’s chest now, his fingers grasping at the coarse fabric of his rustic tunic. Before Louis could think, the boy’s mouth was pressing against his. The boy kissed hesitantly, but with a fierce determination, his soft lips so pliant and warm.  Louis instinctively moaned into the kiss, deepening it as his hands moved to tangle in the boy’s soft yellow hair. The kiss felt so familiar, and yet so jarringly different. Soft warm skin, so different from the unyielding smooth marble Louis has grown so used to.  He knew that he should put an end to this, that he should push the boy away, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Despite his conscious mind knowing the truth, his heart could not reconcile it; that this was Lestat, the one being that Louis loved and trusted most in all the world. And yet it wasn’t. It was a human boy, with warm skin and fragile bones, that Louis could have snapped with a mere flick of his hand. 

[esteemed-excellency]

[capn-twitchery]

what are twitch's favorite ports to zail to and from? (the-dye-stained-socialite)

( @the-dye-stained-socialite )

OHHH this is an interesting question!! for places in FL itself:

the corsair's forest/gaider's mourn! basically their second home next to wolfstack--it's full of other weird, thrill-seeking zailors. how could they not? the zee is dangerous around it, but they think that just makes it more exciting to visit (their poor crew)

venderbight/tomb colonies too, of course. this is also basically a second home, but only because they keep getting exiled. it's fine, though, the parties here are fun and they have friends there!

if i branch out into sunless sea there's also

aestival! the little island with real sunlight from the hole in the neath-roof above it. most ships don't even know it exists, so it's peaceful there. they like to zail down and just sit on the beach for a while. (and sometimes catch the sunlight in mirrorcatch boxes to sell in london. gotta pay the crew somehow)

nook! probably their absolute favourite place to be: underwater civilisation nestled in the throat of a giant sea monster. the water is breathable, but it does really weird things to your brain, and every trip makes it harder to leave. everyone is naked, wildly hallucinating, weirdly horny, y'know, wild zee party things.

hallucinogenic seaweed made twitch eat at least one person and almost chew their own arm off. they barely remember it, though, so they have a great time here!

(their crew tries to avoid it at any cost, understandably. it's really hard to get them to leave.)

[thegreatyin]

i always write really normal really relaxed guys that are really chill and always go with the flow

[thedeafprophet]

i'm still horny for the manager. btw.

[muggycuphead]

CE's "development" being slow af, have some snippets instead to compensate the wait lmao

[chr1st1an111]

💽

[conversationsofyou]

a birthdaze snip from Fastlove in honor of another trip around the sun. tis the season 🫶🏻

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Song: Take The A Train by Duke Ellington 

It's a quarter past five o'clock, peak end of day travel. All the nine to fives are itching to get home. Harry and Zayn have been riding the subway for a few minutes. The chaos that is Manhattan rush hour has begun. It's an unspoken way of life for New Yorkers, don't draw attention and mind your business. 

Harry's trying and failing to not suffocate to death from the designer denim he decided to wear straight out of the store. They didn't feel this stiff in the fitting room.

After much deliberation, they agreed on a few different washes. Zayn managed to pull a rabbit out of his hat and convinced Harry to buy a white pair of jeans. Zayn took a photo of him in them and sent it to everyone in the group chat.

Of course their close friend Nicky, who's also a fellow drag queen from Lucky Cheng's, chimed in first and asked where Harry's dick had disappeared to. Harry proceeded to shove the phone down his pants for a quick shot as hard evidence. 

Now, filled with deep regret, Harry shifts and struggles in the orange and beige plastic seat. 

He attempts to be as subtle as possible while grabbing his crotch. "Shit. They're so fucking tight," he whispers.

"That's what he sa—" Harry pinches Zayn's nipple. He doesn't even flinch. 

Harry releases a meditative exhale. "I feel like I can't breathe and my balls will never forgive me."

Zayn shakes his head. "They're brand new designer jeans. Of course it's cramped in there. Why is this an issue? Your jeans normally look painted on."

"Don't mock my pain."

"I told you to wear your old ones out of the store. Designer needs time to meld to your body."

"They're not new shoes. I don't need to break them in." He stretches his legs out to admire his new boots.

"Says the one who owns two pairs of jeans."

He grips onto Zayn's bicep. "Thank you Zayneth, overlord of retail. Do you finally receive your horns with another sacrifice to the fashion gods?"

"You'll be thanking me when someone with a modicum of good taste notices how hot you look in overpriced jeans. Just lay one on me now, you know I'm right." Zayn nudges his sharp cheek in his face.

Harry rolls his eyes. "I don't care if anyone notices," he mumbles through a smile and kisses Zayn's cheek.

The suit beside them clears his throat. Harry glances over as the bloke squirms in his seat, discomfort evident from their harmless embrace. The Wall Street Journal's clasped tightly in his fingers. He flips a page obnoxiously to drive the point home.

Zayn, never one to bite his tongue, snips, "Something wrong, sweetheart?" He angles his head toward the man's face.

"Zayn..."

"No H, I'd like to know what the fuss is." He edges closer. "Oh cupcake, did your Viagra stock plummet?" He clicks his tongue against his teeth in mock sympathy. Harry needs to get them off this train before The Brooklyn is fully unleashed.

"Not now. Look, our transfers next. Get up." 

He grabs Zayn’s hand to spring him into action. The familiar monotone voice announces the next stop over the crackled speaker.

Song: Where Angels Fear To Tread by Disclosure 

Harry collects the copious amount of shopping bags and nudges his tempestuous friend, urging him to move. Wills him to. Zayn stands up to leave and, of course, blows a kiss to the suit.

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bonus snippet/summary up next. tagging the usual suspects and anyone else feeling frisky w some high art to share: @alarrylarrie @becomeawendybird @beelou @crinkle-eyed-boo @femstyles @fallinglikethis @hiccoops @kingsofeverything @louandhazaf @lookslikefairytale @twopoppies @toomanydreamers

[vulturevanity]

I don't know who voices Katarina DoomFlags in the English dub and I don't care to find out, she's voiced by Laura Bailey in my heart

[violant-apologia]

the royal bethelehem hotel('s seventh-city equivalent) still collects the raving mad to fill out its guest rooms – but if you want to get in without resorting to insanity, it does have online bookings available!

Your quest begins simply enough – "Click here to book." Perhaps the rumours were simply that. But— what's this? A popup? "Details of your desired room." Simple enough. Wait. The original page has redirected itself. "Guest appearance"? Why do they need to know that? As you click a drop-down list to select your hair colour, the page quickly reloads into an ad for moon pearl dust. When you go back, the guest appearance page's layout has changed. Another pop-up! Why has your printers menu opened? By the time you've successfully booked a room, you're as mad as any of the guests.

[warlordfelwinter]

ah and now I've accidentally pissed off pages. this is going great.

[muggys-workshed]

Ayo fellas, we got da news (3)

now

with music

Week 5.1 draft + Leonidas' soundfont small leak

Week 1 ALT song no. 3 draft

Week 4 experiment

[esteemed-excellency]