#but WIP whenever anyway!

[jashonja]

Wip Whenever

I started this one for Gortash week, but I didn't finish it on time and kind of gave up on it.

@quacaserous thank you for tagging me, it was unexpected but I am glad you did! Passing on to @mlavier, @kibermonakh, @daemon-in-my-head if it's ok

[hinamie]

- wip -

semirealism my beloved actually

[jackalgirl]

Can’t stop the signal - tagging @antoncrane @the-laridian @mediocre-life-span @damejudyhench @captastra @kyber-infinitygems @thedashingcaptainweird and if I missed you, it’s because my brain is soup today: please jump on in! (But don’t feel pressured either!)

~~  WIP WHENEVER  ~~

Tagged by @captastra​! And I have stuff to show >:Dcccc

A portrait for Odie in a Pathfinder AU

A Rockwell to celebrate his birthday on the 30th because I could never forget my pet peacock!!

And a Ranni gift for the lovely @rannienjoyer​ !

Tagging @baerryjj​ @simply-jason​ @jackalgirl​ @katyahina​ and anyone who wants to participate!

[spamsandsuch]

i cant stop giggling

[trensu]

have another snippet of stasis in darkness! just 'cuz i'm bored tbh, and kinda stuck on all my wips i'm currently working on.

The seventh night:

“Has he spoken to you yet?”

“How could he when you’re here yammering my ear off every night?”

“He’s a god, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that hard for him to shut me up.”

“Even gods have their limits.”

“Oh, har har. The warrior’s got jokes. You didn’t answer my question.”

“...not yet,” Steve said stiffly. 

“It’s been how long now? A week?” The man hummed in a falsely thoughtful manner. “Maybe he’s just not that into you, man. Maybe he’s letting you down easy.”

At his words, Steve involuntarily curled his shoulders inward, slightly, ever so slightly, in defense. He'd been wondering that same thing earlier that day. Steve had toiled hours in the sun to fix up the shrine; to make it welcoming; to encourage a divine visit. 

He had stopped wearing his armor to free up more time to work. Putting it on and taking it off took too long, and he didn't have to maintain it as much if he wasn't wearing it regularly. He stuck to only his chainmail. He'd kept his shield stored away, too, so it wouldn't get in the way while he worked. Though, he made sure to keep his sword nearby.

He’d taken his knife and traced over the etchings of stars in the alcove that served as a backdrop to the statue. His knife had been ruined but it didn't matter. The Lord of Night would probably want the stars of his dark sky with him, he reasoned, and these had worn so thin. Sadly, it was the only detail he could bring out of all the stone. The statue’s face was so crumbled that Steve couldn’t even begin to guess what it had originally looked like.

He had discovered that the vines he chose to keep were moonflowers. They had blossomed every night since he’d removed the other more invasive plants. He'd draped them carefully so they lay across the statue's shoulders, wrapped lovingly around its torso and clung to its waist before the ends of the vines trailed off at the knees. 

The strange man might have made himself a nuisance during his visits but he never stayed the whole night. Steve had been able to get a few hours of makeshift prayers at the shrine every night. He’d done all this, yet dawn broke every day without a single sign that the Lord of Night had been listening.

“Warrior?”

Steve broke out of his reverie. He refused to look at the man. He had to clear his throat roughly before he could speak.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been rejected by someone I love." Steve tried not to dwell on his father's perpetual scowl and his mother's infinite disinterest. "I’m pretty used to my devotion being one sided by now.”

“That’s a bummer,” the man said. His sympathy was meant to be teasing, Steve could tell, but it came out surprisingly sincere. “Good thing you have a whole pantheon! Strong guy like you? Any god would take you to be their warrior in a heartbeat.”

“What are you talking about? No, I’m nowhere near done with his shrine,” Steve said determinedly. “I know a silversmith and a stone mason who’d give me a hand, and Dustin and Robin have been dying to come up here to bring him offerings. The only reason they didn’t come with me is because I had to do the pilgrimage on my own if I wanted a shot at earning his blessing.”

The man spluttered.

“Are you insane? A god rejects you and you’d come back? What kind of stupid–were you dropped on your head as a child?

“A couple times, but that doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Are you sure? Have you checked? You should go to one of the gods of medicine. Owens, maybe. Have him take a look at your head,” the man huffed in frustration. "For stars' sake, why would you want to come back?"

He ignored the insult to his intelligence. For stars' sake. Steve murmured the words to himself, letting them settle in his mouth to get a feel for them. He'd never heard of that one before. He liked how it rolled off the tongue, natural as anything. 

The man waited for his response. Steve took a moment to try to sort out his words. He kept his head bowed towards the shrine as he ruminated.

“People barely remember my god,” Steve finally said. “And when they do, they remember him as something he’s not. Even if he doesn’t believe I’m worthy of carrying his crest, he shouldn't be forgotten.” 

The man said nothing. Steve took a shuddering breath before the quiet could take over. 

“Having someone forget you is…it’s very lonely. Which is the worst feeling. I…I guess I don’t want him to be lonely anymore.”

The silence that followed his statement stretched long enough that Steve started falling into that meditative state he’d learned during his many nights at the shrine. It helped dull the twisted up, unsteady sensation that lingered from the man’s prodding at his every self-doubt and fear.

“He hasn’t rejected you yet, though,” the man broke Steve's musings awkwardly.

“He hasn’t reached out to me either. It’s fine. I’ll keep coming either way.”

Another silence. It was around the time the man usually left Steve to his worship. He didn't hear retreating footsteps. Instead, the man cleared his throat, and when Steve looked up at him, the man turned his face away, shrouding it in gloom.

“Maybe he’s nervous. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t contacted you yet.”

“Nervous? No way.”

“He sounds like a godly weirdo,” the man said. “Maybe he’s never had a holy warrior before and doesn’t know what to do.”

“He’s the good kind of weirdo! And there’s no way he’s not had a warrior carry his symbol. He must’ve had loads back in the day. I probably don’t meet his standards,” Steve smiled lopsidedly, playing off his insecurity.

“I’m serious!” the man exclaimed. “It’s possible! Some gods never get warriors. Some never want them at all!

“Look, even if I was the first to offer to be his, he’d know he didn’t have to be nervous,” Steve insisted. "I’ve never served a god before either! I wasn’t sure I could have faith at all until I learned about him. So like, if he’s new to it then so am I, and we’d figure it out together.”

“...you really mean that, don’t you? You’d let him make it up on the fly if he took you on.”

“Well, yeah,” Steve shrugged.

“You’d keep coming back even if he rejected you?”

“Yep.”

“But why? That’s so stupid. Nobody would do that!” The man sounded frustrated.

“I’m not really known for my smarts,” Steve said matter-of-factly. “Robin and Dustin had to translate the only book we found about the Lord of Night because I definitely wouldn't have been able to. It was a tiny book but it still took them ages to do because the language doesn’t really exist anymore. So they told me it’s possible it’s not accurate. It felt true, though, to me. 

“There was this quote, I can’t recite it word for word, but…it was something about how monsters don’t always look monstrous, and the monstrous aren’t always things to be feared.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” the man protested. Steve shook his head.

“No, it’s true! Like, I know I’ve got a pretty face and really great hair,” he smirked when he heard the man scoff, “but I was such a fucking asshole when I was younger. I went around hurting people on purpose, tearing them down for no reason other than I was hurting too, and that’s the shittiest reason to hurt anyone. I had to get some sense knocked into me by the people I call friends now. 

“My friends are the greatest people I know, and I’m really lucky to have them, but to everyone else? My friends are losers. They’re rejects because they don’t act right or they don’t look right; they talk too much or too loudly. People treat them like shit because they're different. 

“And after I noticed that, I started seeing it more even if I don’t always pick up on it. And I still mess up sometimes. I'm not a god, I can't change the world but…in the stories Robin and Dustin translated, the Lord of Night helped people like my friends because it was always the weak and rejected that try to hide themselves in the dark. I want to help those people find him again so they know they’ve got someone holy in their corner. They should know someone loves them enough to protect them.”

Steve didn’t really know where all those words came from; he wasn’t a wordsmith like Robin and Dustin. He always had a hard time verbalizing his thoughts, and he usually messed up the words. Nonetheless, these words had almost burned to be said. 

When the speech that flowed from him finally reached a natural end, he felt…lighter, cleaner. He felt like his shield and sword when they were polished to a shine. But when he turned to see his audience’s reaction, the man had gone. Steve felt strangely dejected instead.

–

The eighth night:

“Hey, it’s me again. My supplies are low and I don’t know what your thoughts about hunting on your land are so I’d rather not…I don’t want you to think I’m disrespecting you. I might have to leave soon to get more supplies,” Steve swallowed nervously. “Which isn’t an ult..ultimate…? No, damn, what is it called? I’m not trying to force you to talk to me before then, is what I mean. Not–not that I could! With you being a god.” 

Steve scoffed at his own blundering. He should’ve had Robin help him make speech notes. Cards with conversation starters. Something! He took a deep breath and tried again.

"But I'm coming back, I promise. I meant what I said about fixing up your shrine. I’ll commission a new plaque and I’ll talk to the stonemason about replacing your plinth. I don’t know a lot about sculpture, but I’ll get you the strongest type of stone and get something nice carved on it. Your flowers? Or cats? Cats are cute. Maybe your bats would be better…?” Steve trailed off.

It was quiet save for the faint rustle of leaves in the cool breeze. The full moon illuminated the area more than ever before. The shrine must have really been a beautiful sight back in its heyday. The thought of it sent a pang of longing through his soul.

The hour came that the strange man usually showed up. Steve steeled himself for another round of questions, another jab at his faith. The hour went by with Steve alone in the clearing. Steve frowned.

“Do you think he’s okay?” 

Steve’s question went unanswered.

After another hour without seeing his stranger, Steve had finally convinced himself to round the perimeter for a quick check in case the man was nearby or in need of assistance. When he found nothing, he checked again in case he missed something. 

Still nothing. Uneasily, Steve gave up his search and returned to the shrine. He knelt before it again, head bowed. He cleared his throat.

“Lord of Night, I don’t know his name, and I know he’s been rude–annoying–but could you please watch over the man? Please keep him safe from harm for as long as the stars shine tonight. Thank you.”

He received no response, but Steve had faith. He knew he was heard. He knew his god wouldn’t let an innocent come to harm if he could prevent it.

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you’d like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

[sethsbigtits]

i finished it  ٩( ᐛ )و 

[rowanisawriter]

wip whenever

im cooking thanatos misery (zag escapes the underworld and unexpectedly returns years and years later after an untimely death)

.

When he emerges in the foyer of the House, Megaera is leaning against the wall, waiting for him. She straightens up when she spots him as the flash of green signaling his arrival dissipates. That's his first indication that something is wrong. Megaera doesn’t wait for anything.

She doesn’t greet him, just walks directly up to him and says without preamble, “You’ve been gone a long time.”

“I’ve been busy.” He glances around the foyer. It’s empty save for a few loitering shades, flickering in and out of existence in the meager light that shines from somewhere. Hypnos isn’t at his usual post. Hades’s desk looks empty. He narrows his eyes at Megaera, looking closely at her face, but as usual she gives away nothing. “What’s going on?”

“I wanted to catch you before he did,” she says.

“He?”

“Something’s happened,” is all she has the chance to say before he feels it. A presence in the House. A sense of slowly spreading warmth that starts in his chest and flows outward, until it reaches the tips of his fingers and toes, until he clenches every muscle in his stiff body and knows, before Megaera can say anything more, that Zagreus is here.

He’s here. Zagreus has returned. The House is filled with his spirit, familiar and almost comforting. Thanatos lets himself breathe in and out, not quite a sigh, but still something to ease the sudden pressure in his chest. He realizes he’s clutching his scythe too tightly. He forces his grip to relax and aims what he hopes is a cool expression at Megaera, who has been watching him closely.

“You can feel him,” she says.

[lilas]

one more wip for wip wednesday :> maybe i’ll finish this one!

[lisondraws]

Your love is bleeding off the pages~

I'm honestly obsessed with reframing dialogue from Asteroid City (the play) as scenes of these two. It is said that Jones Hall "created" the role of Augie Steenbeck, after all.

[melverie]

And in a way, Satan would react much like a tiny kitten being carried by its mother whenever he is shown love—overwhelmed by the gesture, and shutting down completely as he is being treated with care

[jmgangel]

In light of recent events. Canon is whatever I want it to be.

[scionshtola]

wip almost wednesday

i've been working on something this week and was just happy i managed to do that so thought i would share :> slight enw spoilers

tagging @coldshrugs @lavampira @hythlodaes @galadae @ghostwise

@impossible-rat-babies @lilas @birues and anyone else who wants to share! no pressure 💗 but i'd love to see anything you're working on!

‘Twas simple, after that, to fall into the haze of domestic bliss that overcame the two of them for the next few days. Corisande showed her around the island, her hand in theirs as they toured together. They dipped their feet in lily-filled ponds, jumped across the cold streams that carved the land on their way to the sea, stood atop cliffs with beautiful views that Corisande painted for her with words. Corisande pointed out all her favorite spots for foraging, marks on trees that marked her way back to the cabin, and where the island’s animals often liked to gather. They kissed beneath the loud rush of waterfalls, in the mouth of caves home to glowing crystal formations sprouting from the ground, under leafy palm trees, their backs pressed to the rough bark. They spent much of their time on the beach. Corisande packed lunch and they sprawled across a blanket on the shifting sand. They ate, read, lay together under the sun, the breeze lifting off the sea enough to keep the heat at bay. Sometimes they walked, hand in hand, the tide washing over their footsteps; other times, Corisande swam while Y’shtola read, waiting for the moment they returned and pressed their cool body to hers, both of them laughing when Y’shtola tossed her book to the side. They talked, as well, of course, about the usual things. Books they had read recently, recipes Corisande wanted to cook for Y’shtola to try, the progress on Y’shtola’s book and what the other Scions were doing with their newfound free time. There were topics they did not discuss, things that made Corisande pause, disquiet, before kissing the back of Y’shtola’s hand and leading her somewhere new. When the conversation brushed against them, Y’shtola did not pry. She let herself be pulled into their lap, pressed into the blanket, the sand warm beneath her, their lips and hands temporarily eliding her concerns. Corisande would come to her when she was ready.

[bearlytolerant]

wip whenever

Tagged by @roguelioness, thank you! Tagging @ellstersmash @fangbangerghoul @staticpallour @lisa-and-shadow @galadrieljones @myreia @thevikingwoman and anyone else who wants to share what they’re working on and sees this!

Sadly, I haven’t written much in weeks. BUT I do have this Gwyn to share from her series of outfits and hairstyles.

[oceanwithouthermoon]

need more future in-law interactions between saikis parents and kuboyasus parents.. imagine them meeting for the first time at like a school event and yasus mom goes up to kurumi and kuniharu and is like "your kid the one mine wont stop flirting with?"

i think mama yasu would see how kusuo interacts with kurumi and immediately be like "yeah, this is the one for my son."

we know that aren canonically puts A LOT of respect on his parents.. so i think it's safe to assume that thats the standard in their home.. i want to say its contradictory that despite being raised a murderous delinquent, he was also raised so traditionally, with all the "respect women, respect your elders, respect your parents," etc. but i dont think its contradictory at all, i think its pretty commonplace actually? but yeah, anyway.. kurumi is super ditzy and is always just barely almost getting herself hurt but kusuo is always putting his hand on table corners before she bonks her head, pulling her to his side right before she bumps into things, catching things she drops before they break, etc..

this is a topic i should also touch on without the context of a ship actually.. i just think it would be cute for the others to see how sweet kurumi and kusuo are, and also how SIMILAR they are..

[tiredela]

WIP THURSDAY!!

(also happy halloween lol)

i was tagged by @theoneandonlysemla thanksssssss <3

today, i bring you;

cunty bird

Woman™️

i‘m tagging: @zuutiomi @reagan-the-saunders @orfeoarte @caliblorn @/YOU!!

[spamsandsuch]

self reflection (2) preview