#crimson daughters wip

[minsyal]

She Was His

Tywin Lannister x Reader

Summary: Sad-ish.. Written fast and slowly at the same time. It’s been in my wip for… a few years now. Enjoy 💕 not mega edited, apologies for any grammatical thingies.

Word count: 2800

An overwhelming race of the steadfast beating in her chest exploded as soon as the fields were flooded with a haze of crimson. Flags waved proudly in the wretched wind of the summer day, creating a sea of blood upon the grassy plains. The first harvests of the summer crept in from the false spring of years past, providing the first taste of freshness in two years.

She could hear the heralds heralding from the gates of King’s Landing where forces encroached on the sky scraping walls. With enough focus, she could spot him riding in front. Rising gallantly from a white steed, the Lannister patriarch sat with a stiff back and cold resolve. Pleated drapery cascaded down from his broad shoulders to attach to his narrowed hips. Everything about him bled with an unwavering confidence, the same confidence that had stolen her heart from her intended many years previous.

“Princess.” The Master of Whispers was always lurking around corners and concealing himself within the shadows spoke. His hand was cold and plush against her shoulder as he delicately reached out to guide the princess away. “You should be in the Holdfast where it is safest.”

“There is no threat.” Her tone was resolute and her shoulders squared as she shook loose from his light hold. The Grand Maester was also nearby, listening as the two conversed. “Lord Tywin is here for our protection.” Her defense was as strong as the impenetrable stones holding the earth down. Beliefs cemented in centuries of faith grounded her as she, for the first time in years, felt a wave of calm wash over her body.

“A precious assumption from a naive heart.” He, Varys, paced the small space of the stone tower. “Have you considered-”

His words meant nothing to her for he spoke in an ill favor of her beloved lord. She would have none of his lies. Fleeing his presence, she joined the Grand Maester at the window’s ledge. Her fingers were warm against the cold stone that separated her from the open air. “It is anything but an assumption, my Lord.”

“Lord Tywin has not taken a stance during the Rebellion.” Varys tucked his chin to his chest as he eyed the silken fabrics that hung from his wrists. “Greeting the city with thousands of armed men often is not a welcoming sight. Should Lord Tywin decide that his faith with the crown has run thin, it will not end well for the Targaryen dynasty.”

“It will turn in our favor.” Pycelle insisted, pressing his shaking fingers to the heavy chains that hunched his back. “Lord Tywin has served the Targaryen dynasty valiantly and faithfully since the day he became Lord of Casterly Rock upon his father’s death. His heir serves in the King’s Guard and his daughter was set to wed Rhaegar.”

“The crowned-prince was slain on the Trident and Prince Rhaegar was wed to Elia Martell.” Varys reminded the room, though his words were not warm.

The mention of his name made her suddenly uncomfortable. “Rhaegar is dead, but that does not mean that Cercei’s love for him has ceased. She would have married him if not for my father’s decisions.” She pressed her hand firmly down on her stomach to quell the fluttering butterflies that bounced from its walls as she looked into the blinding glint of his crimson armor. “Let him in.”

“My princess,” Varys tone had become concerningly low, “do not allow your love for him to shroud your rational thought. There is a reason that Lord Tywin had not chosen a side in this war. At the death of your brother, he joins the battle. Does that not leave a bitter taste upon your tongue?”

“He will not allow us to crumble.” She defended, a sweat breaking out on her forehead. “He was my intended for many years. This is a way for him to finally have my father accept the betrothal. The Lannister army will assist us in quelling this rebellion once and for all.”

A hush fell over the room as the uneven footsteps of the king echoed up the stairwell. His were followed closely by another, a younger man covered in heavy armor. All eyes were focused directly on the painted wooden door that separated the overlook from the rest of the Keep.

Hobbling into the room, thin and frail, Aerys used any railing he could to maintain his balance. A wild look clouded his lilac eyes, fluctuating from pinpricks to full dilation. Nobody present was truly sure if he was aware of his surroundings. Behind him stood Jaime Lannister, a dashing young knight with hearts to spare. Though popular among the crowds of maidens, she wondered who he was truly interested in.

Pycelle and Varys plead their cases to the lone judge who seemed to go in and out of listening. His fingers shook as they gripped at the golden crown of tangled wings placed heavily atop his brittle hair. For a moment he pressed his thinning lips together and contemplated deeply in a way that she had not seen him do in decades. Deep in the cavernous depths of his mental prison, he listened to the voices that instructed him in his daily life. “Lord Tywin cannot be trusted, my king.” One voice, foreign and shrill, urged while the other, mature and shaken, suggested differently. “Lord Tywin will protect this city. He will end the rebellion.”

Aerys did not ponder on his options for an extended period of time. His decision was made in the filling of a lung as he muttered the few words aside from garbled madness he had in the past few months.

“Let him in.”

Those words seemed to mean nothing to Aerys as his eyes glazed back over from his position in the room. He did not look to his daughter nor his council who all dispersed throughout the throne room. Pycelle began his short jaunt to the front gates where he instructed a footsoldier to deliver word from the King that the gates should be opened to Lord Tywin.

“Come, princess.” Varys began to pull the princess’s arm, but found a stone wall beneath his fingertips. “We must get you somewhere safe.”

She was unmoving and uncaring of what the Master of Whispers had to say. Any words that came from his mouth were null in her mind.

“Princess, you must go now.” Varys pulled forcefully at the princess’s arm, so much so that the sleeve of her gown tore in his fingertips. Any other instance as such would leave a man without his head but an urgentness in his chest compelled him to act with ferocity. “Lord Tywin and his men are not here to ensure your safety.”

She couldn’t, wouldn’t, believe it.

All the years Tywin spent as Hand of the King he had vied for her hand. He had, on multiple occasions, taken her to spend the summer months in Casterly Rock where she could live freely and happily. He had planted seeds of safety in her core that had only cemented her trust in him, and hindered Varys’s attempts to guide the girl away.

None of it mattered, though. Tywin would get what he wanted in the end even if his desires had to adjust to the circumstances.

~~*~~

“What of the girl?” The path to King’s Landing had been an easy one, one that Lord Tywin had made many in the past.

Red velvet cloth draped thickly over the encampment that laid near the forking of Blackwater Rush. The room was occupied by a select few. The men within were to carry out the most heinous of crimes. Though reports conflict, it is generally accepted that the sinister deeds were ordered by the Lannister lord. In the distance laid their destiny, one that would alter timelines that had been set in stone for centuries.

Lord Tywin adjusted his jaw from where it had been clenched harshly to the right of center, keeping his lips pressed into a thin scornful line. “Leave her to me.”

~~*~~

Her feet could not carry her fast enough away from Varys. Echos of his pitchy voice rang through the walls and into her eardrums, beating away like sticks upon clashing cymbals. Heavy material glided across the floor, sweeping every bit of dirt and debris into its train as she ran desperately for the throne room. At the very least, she knew that Ser Jaime and her father would be there, waiting for their fates.

It was an odd moment of willful ignorance on the princess’s part. Deep in her heart she knew that she was running to her death. She was painfully aware of the chaos that ensued in and outside of the walls that had protected her for her entire life. The screaming in the streets were not joyous. No bells rang for celebration. Scarlet embers flecked with honeyed gold were not that of the evening sunset.

The screams were pained, filled and overflowing with an extinguishment of life. Sounds of bells were morphed from crumbling walls and pounding doors as foot soldiers stormed through the cobblestone streets. The evening sunset was not due for hours. Fires were set across the city, illuminating the rising smoke and ash that clouded the sky in a display of power.

She should have left.

Within the throne room, she was met with a sight that brought bile rising to the top of her throat. Churning upset her stomach and she heaved on a dry tongue. Though his skin had paled throughout the years, he looked particularly gaunt lying on the floor with ichor trickling from his neck. His fingers were curled into fists that bruised purple down to his wrists. Thin and stringy hair that once glittered in the vibrancy of the midday sun was now filled and bland, painted a shade of garnet similar to that of Lord Tywin’s armor.

If it weren’t for the circumstance, she could have said that Jaime looked particularly regal upon the Iron Throne. Downcast eyes focused on the glint of steel in his lap, concentrated rivet directed at the dense pressure that moved his shoulders downward.

“Ser Jaime?”

She could see the turmoil in his eyes as he looked up from his seat. The princess should have fled for Dragonstone, Jaime thought as she took heavy steps in his direction. He refused to listen to the nagging voice in his head telling him to do what was honorable. Her fate was already sealed.

“Ser Jaime?” She repeated, steps growing faster in speed and more uneven as she clutched at her chest and neared her father’s corpse.

“Ser Jaime? Please!” Anguished sorrow bled from her lips as she placed a hand gently over her father’s heart. It had not beat a single time in nearly ten minutes.

Footsteps fell in large groups from the Throne Room’s main entrance. The doors were left open from when she had come through them, allowing Tywin and his small garrison east entry.

Tywin Lannister stood there before her, his crimson armor dulled from bloodshed. Whose blood stained his chest, she did not know, but given his stature and ease of movement one could presume that he was relatively unharmed. A simple halting of his hand had the remaining infantrymen stalled in the doorway, the majority turning their backs to the room as they surveyed the hall outside. Tywin began his approach.

Faint screams bounced off the walls and into the rafters of the room, rising upward like plumes of heavy black smoke until they disappeared into the air. The princess was beside herself, her hands now red with her father’s ichor matching the front of her dress where he had bled as she groomed his hair out of his face. For all that he had put her through, he was still her father.

Tywin was upon her now, his face hardened as he watched her shoulders relaxing as the weight of her situation fully dawned on her. She turned to him then, eyes filled with tears that streamed down the contours of her face.

He had always thought of her to be particularly beautiful. In the warm summer months, he had spent many hours courting her in the privacy of his own home. There was a hope in him back then that they could wed and from their union would come heirs that he could marry off to solidify his power. Whether there was true love for her in there was questionable.

There was nothing about the princess he disliked. She was agreeable, fairly intelligent, and held onto his word like it had been written by the gods. Although, she did not worship him. A clear admiration for the man was displayed on her features, especially so when he was leading council meetings or sitting the throne in the place of her father. She had told him on many occasions that she wished to be able to hold the room the same way he did. In fact, there were many things he found he did like. Her company was comfortable, always melding into his presence as if she had always been there. No one would argue her beauty either. Similar in looks to that of her mother, the princess was soft and ethereal in appearance. She dressed in beautiful gowns and always smelled slightly of rose and mint. Even now in the chaos of the sacking, she held that same look.

“What does this mean for me?” The words fell like a feather from her lips, floating softly downward to the floor where her gaze was focused.

When no answer came from Tywin she turned and looked upward at him. “My lord?”

There were truthfully only two possibilities for her future and Tywin knew that.

He extended a hand down to her and stiffened when she accepted it and rose to meet his gaze. Trembling fingers wrapped around his. The entirety of her body was shaking. He took the opportunity to pull her into his chest despite the hardness of his armor. A gentle hand smoothed down the back of her hair and rested on the nape of her neck.

“What will come of me now?” She repeated, enjoying the way he embraced her. Calming to his touch, she deepened her hold on him.

“The war is over, princess.” Tywin hushed her tearful sobs, pressing a light kiss to the side of her head as her crying intensified. “The house of the dragon has fallen.”

The princess only looked into his emerald eyes when his gloved finger guided her vision upward. He knew he should not have allowed himself to indulge in the moment. Robert Baratheon would not let a Targaryen, especially the sister of Rhaegar, live peacefully. He personally saw to the death of the prince and Tywin did not intend to let him see to the princess’s end.

Knowing that no guard dared to turn their heads in their direction, Tywin drew the princess near and placed a light kiss to her lips. Their personalities in that moment were completely opposite. She was ravenous, starved of his touch and seeking validation in his arms. Her hands found the dimples of his waist, barely detectable through the armor, and rested there. If it were not for the metal, she would have dug crescents into his skin.

On the other hand, he was calm. A storm brewed in the pit of his stomach, but he did not show it.

She let out a soft breath when the cold metal sunk itself into her chest. Tywin held her still, not allowing her legs to give out. One hand held the blade firmly by his side, soaked in her blood. The other was cradling her body, holding her to his chest. An uncomfortable warmth oozed from the bodice of her dress. It added depth to the blood that already stained his breastplate.

Her lips parted to speak but nothing could come from her lungs for no air remained. Pleading questioning eyes met ones that would display sorrow and remorse if they could. It would be a cold day in hell before Tywin would admit what he had done was wrong. Every fiber of his being scolded him, but his own selfishness was not enough to start a war with a man who had just won his own.

Tywin knew that the only end for her that he would accept was the embrace of death. If not for his blade, Robert Baratheon would either have the princess killed or marry her to claim the throne. Selfishly, Tywin could not bear to see her wed to another.

She was his.

Her love, her body, her heart, and her death was his.

That was how it was supposed to be.

[loneamaryllis]

Snarriet rec list - Medium fics (30k to 100k)

A Family of her Own

by tully. Rated E. 53k. Pining, Floor Sex, Pregnancy.

Harrie Potter has never had a family, not really. Now that she is adult and independent, she wishes to change that.

Why I rec it: Tully always write such a hot, intense Snape. Here Harrie wants to get pregnant and settles on Snape as the father. Featuring Portrait Phineas Black who is the biggest Snarriet shipper and a devious schemer.

Dig Up the Dandelions

by ImSoREY. Rated E. 49k, WIP. (Underage) Soulmate Bond, Slow Burn, Mad Snape.

Soulmate was a cheap word for a curse that could drive a man mad with a single touch. It was a cheap word for something that could ruin so many lives. — Rowan Potter is Severus Snape’s soulmate. In many ways, nothing is different. In others, everything is changed.

Why I rec it: The concept is so great! The soulmate bond drives Snape mad and makes him behave in completely unpredictable ways... You're not ready for what he does to Umbridge.

Cursum Perficio

by @silraen. Rated M. 72k. Slow Burn, Banter, Protective Snape.

Severus Snape, the man who was partly responsible for the Potters’ murder, finds himself the unlikely protector of their daughter, Harriet. This story shows how he finds his redemption by aiding her, and in so doing, unwittingly wins her affection, and eventually, her love.

Why I rec it: A fic going through all seven years of Harriet at Hogwarts. It does a really good job at building the relationship. Plus there's gorgeous art made especially for the fic!

Succor

by pluperfectsunrise. Rated E. 40k. Soulmates. Bisexual Harry. Protective Snape.

Five times Severus Snape comforted Harry Potter, and one time Harry comforted him.

Why I rec it: Technically a 5+1 fic, starting in Harry's first year and ending after the war, showing little glimpses of her life and her relationship with Snape as it evolves. It's one of my comfort fics, so very nice to come back to.

Teaching Miss Potter

by gamma_orionis. Rated E. 46k, WIP. (Underage). Porn with Plot. Dom Severus Snape. Dirty Talk.

Another Occlumency lesson gone horribly wrong.

Snape delves into Harrie's mind and discovers something completely unexpected. He makes her an offer that flips Harrie's world upside down.

Why I rec it: Snape and Harrie entering into a BDSM relationship, hot smut, Snape being deliciously dominant while Harrie discovers what she likes...

Crimson Clovers

by @spicedlantern. Rated M. 60k. Mutual Pining, Mystery, Horror Vibes.

In which Harriet Potter has a kidnapped aunt, is stalked, pines, gets a cold, and proves that Severus Snape does not, in fact, know everything - not necessarily in that order.

Why I rec it: The first fic I read from spicedlantern, and I immediately knew I'd like everything else she'd write. She's a master at writing tense scenes, her Snape is so multi-layered and so protective of Harriet, and her villains are pitch perfect.

The Perdition of his Redemption

by @hirukochan. Rated E. 46k. (Underage) Muggle AU. Snape is Harrie's godfather. Gun Kink.

They know it is wrong. They know neither one of them should feel the way they do but how does one stop feeling?

Harrie discovers the dark truth about her godfather's past, will this finally be the thing that stops the harrowing crush she has developed and that keeps her awake at night? Or will it only get worse? After all - good girls like bad boys, and what is worse than having been the right hand of the leader of the most notorious international organisation of criminals?

Why I rec it: Hot, lethal Snape wielding a gun and being so very protective of Harrie... while being attracted to her and being tormented because he knows it's wrong. And Harrie teases him and makes it clear she wants him too!

Harrie's Cat

by @loneamaryllis. Rated E. 49k. Cat Animagus Severus Snape. Denial of Feelings. Fluff.

The fic where Harrie puts a collar on Snape and calls him hers.

Why I rec it: A self-rec! Snape being Harrie's cat while she's mourning him after the Battle of Hogwarts. Add some Aurors who come sniffing for a pinch of danger, my OC Mathilda for some fluffy shenanigans, and Harrie calling the cat Prince, of course.

[houndsinhades]

WIP Snippet

Thank you @tackytigerfic and @maesterchill for the tags! I’ve taken a small break from this one during summer madness, but I’m excited to get back to writing and finishing it!

She carried the letter into Lyall’s study, and slipped it under that morning’s newspaper, forcing herself to look at the headline again without being sick. Three children this time, under the age of ten - two of them found dead in their bedroom in Merseyside after the full moon left their mattresses shredded and their walls stained crimson with their own innocence. Three children from the same home, and their parents hadn’t been able to identify which body belonged to which one of their beloved daughters after that monster was finished tearing them apart.

They still hadn’t found the third child.

She ran her hand over her face and tried not to imagine that the third child had anything to do with why her husband still wasn’t home.

“Rem?” she called out, after covering the paper and Lyall’s letters with a heavy text on common medicinal herbs. She could hear her son’s feet down the hall, and looked at the open doorway just as he ran through it on his tiptoes, straddling the toy broomstick between his knobby knees.

“Yeah, mam?” Remus asked, bouncing a few feet off the ground each time he pushed his toes against the blue carpet like it was a trampoline. Hope wanted to wrap her arms around him and kiss his cheeks a hundred times over. She wanted to commit every inch of him to memory - his tawny hair, his chestnut eyes, the dimple on his left cheek and the small mole on the right side of his jaw. Every one of the dozens of freckles that dusted his nose and shoulders. The gap in his front teeth that he sprayed bathwater through. His perpetually bruised knees. The way his laugh sounded when he ran through the house in the morning.

They hadn’t been able to identify their daughter’s bodies.

No pressure tags: @sophsicle @marigold-hills @abz-coralsunset @skeptiquewrites @sweet-s0rr0w

[the-red-butterfly]

Not-Yet-Written-Fics Game

Tagged by @fishing4stars to reveal my not-yet-written fics.

This is fantastic actually the amount of things I have on the back burner is HUGE I'll have to pick and choose, oh dear.

For Your Life Hate Me (Twilight) As story about Carlisle and Jasper (very self indulgent) where they get kidnaped by María and forced to fight (like in Jasper's old days). To keep Carlisle alive Jasper is forced to do some not nice things that horrify Carlisle but he'll do them to keep the man who took him in safe, even if Carlisle hates Jasper in the end.

The Adventures of Young Man Henry Winchester and his Violent Grandsons (Supernatural) Henry Winchester survives his death by Abadon! And now he has to get used to modern life without his family. It is extremely painful and sometimes his grandsons are no help. The start of their relationship is very rocky but it'll eventually lead to better days. I'm very fond of this one.

It's The Ashy Taste Of Sacrifice (One Piece) Sanji and Zoro get turned into animals and (spoilers) in the end Sanji has to bear the brunt of this happening and suffer a life as a fox. The premise is silly but I promise you the contents are not. I am making this boy SUFFER and that is just a universal constant. Full of platonic friendship and hurt/comfort ✨And Zoro being a better bro to Sanji.

To Look Like Her (One Piece) And to keep up with the point before. This is a story about Sanji self sabotaging his body because he realizes that when he's sick he looks like his mother and he wants to KEEP that look. It does not end well for anyone. The Straw Hats get rightfully very pissed and concerned about this.

Mending The Tears One Spoonful At The Time (Sam Rami Spider-man) This is just a whole ass ploy to better the friendship between Peter and Harry. Harry realizes something is off with Peter when he notices his friend is ALWAYS hungry. When Harry offers help Peter's pride gets in the way and Harry has to devise ways to secretly help Peter.

Homeward Bound From The Sea (Frozen) Frozen AU where Agnarr survives the shipwreck but is lost for some years in an island until he's eventually found by a fishing-ship. He gets rescued and returned home but things are hard for father and daughters equally. Full of Agnarr!whump and everyone having to adapt to this new reality. Kind of non-verbal Agnarr in this one.

When Doriath Fell (Silmarillion/Tolkien) AU where Dior and Elured and Elurin survive BUT actually Dior did die he just came back wrong. So Dior raises his children as a feral creatures in the forest surrounding Menegroth. But Elured and Elurin sort of have to take care of their father as well because the man is not well. Of course, this thing is full of angst what did you expect?

The Price Of Freedom (Sandman) Hob rescues Dream from the fishbowl of doom and Dream thinks he needs to repay him with devotion and love (just like he did with Alianora). Surprisingly shippy but not really? HobxDream is not endgame at any rate, but Dream is convinced that's how he needs to repay his friend for saving him. Very angsty, the sky is blue, next.

Reverse 'Verse (Firefly) Another AU (of course) where instead of River being taken and brainwashed it is Simon who becomes the mortal weapon/assassin. And in turn it is River who has to take care of him and escape. Lots of sibiling feels.

I have so many, so so many, but i better not drag them up into the surface less I get tempted into working on them XD but here are some honorable mentions of ofter fandoms I have wips in: SPD Power Rangers (don't laugh), Batman, Hocus Pocus and a ton for Criminal Minds.

If you feel like asking about any of these drop me an ask and I might feel inclined to doodle something about it 😂

No pressure tags: @arlenianchronicles @slightly-crimson-tornado @bad-at-names-and-faces @loonysama @byrambles @i-did-not-mean-to

[the-ellia-west]

Second Ramble of the Night! Let's talk about another main WIP of mine, Of Starlight and Beasts.

It's a high fantasy adventure set in a fictional continent where magic is woven into the very fabric of daily lives, but where a dreadful curse is slowly spreading day by day - the work of the vengeful Crimson Queen, a scorned sorceress who seeks revenge for the brutal deaths of her husband and child centuries ago, by destroying the continent that doomed them, regardless of all the innocent lives her curse is reaping. The main plot follows a girl named Corah Stormryder - who lives in the capital of the realm, the kingdom of Tirawen, which is constantly beset by horrid monsters born from the Crimson Queen's curse. Daughter of a renowned monster hunter, Corah wants nothing more than to become a knight of the realm and save the land from the curse that is slowly consuming their land.

Corah meets Arammys, a mysterious mage with the power of the stars, lost in a forest. He seems to have lost all memory of his past and who he is, all except for his name. They become friends, and shortly after embark on a cross-country journey to find a forgotten relic that can put a stop to the Crimson Queen's advance on their land and to discover more about the prophecy that seems to be bound to Arammys' strange magic. While they're at it, they also deal with internal conflicts of their own, with Corah struggling with feelings of inadequacy and her resentment of her absent mother, and Arammys trying to discover who he really is while being haunted by the looming shadow of his uncontrollable powers.

They make a lot of allies in their journey, namely Eidan Delythen, a "lone wolf" kind of rogue who travels the land looking for redemption, Maryon Haell, the quirky daughter of a powerful spymaster, Kyran and Masen Mavven twins who hate each other but are trapped in the same quest, among others!

Some of the contents of this WIP are: found family, siblings, good vs evil, redemption, morally grey characters, fighting against fate, and many other juicy tropes!

Okay, first, FANTASTIC MAGIC PREMISE. I absolutely love the Epithets and Names! Amniesia plot point is BEAUTIFUL for Arammys. (I love him already)

Also can I ship it?

Anyway, CORAH ANGST LETS GO!!!

I'll call it now, Delythen is gonna be my favorite.

I LOVE ALL THE CHARACTER IDEAS AND .WQBDUIROVWETBFUKGTRWBY5FUGTEWHTG THE THEMES ARE ALL MY FAVORITE THINGS HOW COULD YOU

[hwaslayer]

❥ please read my FAQ before anything, some questions may already be answered here!

❥ these are all my original works. all works are purely fiction and most contain mature content (18+), therefore it should not be viewed by minors. please do not repost or translate my work!

❥ key - fluff [f] | angst [a] | smut [s]

❥ fic playlists | wips

—ot8

❥ when the cat and wolf play | [a], [s]

spin-off from the bts witchers series; set in the same universe, years later 

—one shots

❥ talk the talk

—mini series

❥ vivrant thing | [f], [a], [s] | release: aug '24 (in progress)

inspired by the song: 'vivrant thing’ by q-tip

after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual.

—one shots

❥ after hours | [f], [s]

an invitation to wooyoung’s event leads to the unexpected— a night of revelation that deeply blurs the lines between harmless fun and the thrill of exploring something more.

—series

❥ everythingship | [f], [a], [s]

inspired by the movie: life as we know it ;

your relationship with song mingi is the true definition of love and hate. though annoyingly despicable at times, he’s still someone you’ve grown fond over and both of your bestfriends are to thank for that. when life-altering moments leave you and mingi in charge of your bestfriends’ 10 month old daughter, the two of you learn out how to navigate treacherous waters together.

—one shots

❥ butterflies | [f], [s]

life with your husband & daughter is always full of butterflies.

—series

❥ wildfire | [f], [a], [s] | release: august '24 (in progress)

assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t.because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—one shots

❥ crimson | [a], [s]

life has always revolved around the club, the money, the clients— that is, until a first-time experience changes everything for san, for you; causing lines to be blurred, boundaries that are crossed. he didn’t think he’d get wrapped around your finger, falling deep into your spell. after all, he did become your number one client.

—mini series

❥ flowers on the floor | [f], [a], [s] | release: july '24 (completed)

when yeosang decided he was going to take a month-long vacation, he was mainly hoping to get away from his mundane routine and the stress of work. he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet you and build a connection unlike he’s ever known. when the end of his vacation nears, promises are made to keep the relationship alive, to keep it blossoming. but eventually, as the reality settles in and the distance continues to put a wedge into your relationship, you drop your end of the promise without any trace. despite the heartbreak, all yeosang can do is think about you— hoping the universe will lead you to each other again

—series

❥ project: make you love me (ft. park seonghwa) | release: july ‘23 (completed)

yunho can't stand how you're so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—series

❥ untitled (ft. park seonghwa) | [f], [a], [s]

everything and everyone in your life has always been safe. you have incredibly supportive bestfriends, two fathers you adore, and your life planned out for the next 5-10 years. for hongjoong though, it’s the opposite— known to be the campus badboy, he’s someone who doesn’t take anything seriously, hates commitment and seems to encounter something new every day. when you cross paths with hongjoong, you begin to think that being safe and comfortable isn’t exactly what you want all the time.

—one shots

❥ home | [f], [a], [s]

when your home no longer feels like home.

—mini series

❥ love you in slow motion | [f], [a], [s] | release: april '24 (completed)

seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, the warmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you're more than just his bestfriend— you're love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—series

❥ darkness in divinity | [f], [a], [s]

as a fallen angel, seonghwa runs alongside of his leader, yoongi, his right-hand, hongjoong, and the rest of the fallen as they work to keep their underground activities alive and continue to make yoongi's power known across the city. despite the constant chaos and the darkness that surrounds him, he eventually meets you and finds a light that awakens within him. but as the stakes grow higher, seonghwa begins to question the path he's chosen— torn between his loyalty to yoongi and the group, and his need to protect you from danger that arises.

[eridanidreams]

WIP Wednesday

Tagging: @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour and @artemis-crimson

I'm late to the party tonight, so enjoy!

from stars through my fingers like grains of sand

Lillian agreed, then took a deep breath. "But Sam, I need something. I need to see my daughter more. These messages, they're just a tease."

"And she misses you," Sam countered, before Cait could draw breath to speak herself. "But, Lillian, the last three times we planned something, you bailed twice. Twice." His jaw set, his eyes burned the hot blue of stars, and his anger fueled the embers of her own. Before it could go out of control again (she'd wanted to—what? the memory had gone up in smoke), she leashed it, channeled it into words.

"Cora knows you're not really invested in her, Lillian," Cait said, choosing every word with exquisite care. "She certainly knows that you put being a Ranger over spending time with her. And pretty soon now, she's going to figure out that you aren't actually interested in your reading club. Right now, she just thinks you're a slow reader."

Lillian flushed. "How dare you say that?"

Cait felt a slow, angry smile cross her face. "Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. You must look into that storm and shout as you did in Rome: Do your worst, for I will do mine! Then the fates will know you as we know you." Lillian still looked confused. "That's only one of the most famous quotes from the book you're supposed to be reading right now."

"Do you have any idea the looks I get when I'm reading Dumas around the other Rangers?" Lillian demanded.

"If you really cared about Cora," Cait said softly, "it wouldn't matter."

"For crying out loud, Lillian," Sam added, "where do you think the whole 'Rangers always have each other's back' thing comes from?" Lillian looked at him in complete astonishment. "I'm not the reader Cora or Cait is—" His anger was dissipating, replaced with a sort of grim amusement that damped Cait's anger like a fire extinguisher "—but I'm not immune to a rousing adventure. Like, oh, The Three Musketeers." He let that hang in the air.

"All for one, and one for all," Cait murmured.

"And books aside, what this all boils down to," Sam said, "is that every time you bail out on Cora, it destroys her. And I'm the one left to pick up the pieces." Now that her own anger was more-or-less quenched, Cait could clearly sense the memory of Sam's devastation as it shivered coldly through him.

"Be honest with yourself, Lillian," Cait commanded. "Do you really think you can put Cora first? Every time? Because if you can't, then you need to stop pretending that you can."

Lillian winced, shaken to the core by Cait's brutal honesty, as Sam added, "Whatever you've got going on with Cora right now, I won't stand in the way of that. But we're not going to make plans again if you can't be sure you're going to make them. Even if there's an emergency."

Lillian sighed. "It's so often a matter of life and death, you know that—" There are other Rangers, Cait thought, but did not say. Lillian needed to make this decision herself. "—but you're right. Maybe—maybe when she's older." When she's older, Cait knew, would never happen; Lillian had just driven a stake through the heart of any hope of a closer relationship with Cora. Unless she changed drastically, and soon, this was the most she would ever have. Cait couldn't find it in herself to be sorry—at least, not for Lillian. Silently, she vowed to do everything she could to make the inevitable easier on Cora.

Sam nodded solemnly; Cait wondered if he'd heard the same thing she had. "Okay. Friends, right?"

Lillian set herself, and underneath all the turmoil, the anger, the resentment, Cait thought she heard a faint note of relief. "Friends." She gave a soft, rueful laugh. "You and me—we were over before we ever began." Cait hadn't expected the turn of conversation, and now she did feel like she was intruding. She took a half-step back, intending to make a discreet exit, but the ice cracking beneath her foot betrayed her. Lillian offered her a soft half-smile, but her emotions had sharpened into something almost—speculative. "No need," she said. "Sam and I—we didn't really choose each other, we just sort of—fell into it. I admire him, and he's one of the few people in the Systems that can make me laugh… but he's right. What we had, was never love. Not then, and not now."

"Truth," Sam agreed.

"All right," Cait said, feeling like the ground itself was shaking underneath her. She was teetering on the edge of emotional overload, and she knew it. "Do you think you two can go on from here? Is there anything else you need to address?"

Sam shook his head in silence. "No," Lillian met her gaze without flinching; after a moment, a half-smile curved her lips. "Sam's found himself one hell of an advocate."

Cait shook her head. "Sam didn't need me to support him—he did just fine." Sam's surprised appreciation curled up through her, adding itself to the storm already raging inside of her. "He needed it for Cora." She breathed deeply of the cold air, trying to use the shock to steady her for just a few moments more. "I'll go take a walk while the two of you finish up whatever you need to. Lillian, I presume we're dropping you back at Neon?"

"No need," Lillian said. "I've arranged for pickup. But I will make sure to say goodbye to Cora before you lift off." She gave Cait a long, considering look. "And thank you. You've given both of us a real gift. Not a comfortable gift, but…" she let out a sigh. "Honesty is the best way to go... however painful. As if I didn't owe you already."

"I'm not one to keep score," Cait said. "But I'm glad I could help. If you'll excuse me…" She nodded to them both, then walked away quickly before either of them could draw her back in.

[somethingclevermahogony]

Character Intro! Ninma

Hello y'all! I am currently working on making a post for Shela, the winner of the poll. However before I introduce you to a secondary character I thought it would make sense that you know both of the MCs. I previously introduced y'all to Narul, if you haven't seen that yet or if you are new to my WIP check out the pinned post on my blog or click here.

Send any questions you have about either of them!

Art is the work of @faeporcelain ! i hope to do a commission or two with just Ninma in the future.

Intro continues below!

Note: Everything listed below is the case at the start of the story, and are not necessarily the case for the entirety of the book

Ninma is the youngest daughter of Hutbari, King of the City State of Labisa

Ninma was born and has spent her entire life within Labisa

Ninma is five years old though she is unusually small for her age.

Her father is King Hutbari, her mother is Zibatha (Hutbari’s 6th and youngest wife). Zibatha is the child of a Jezaai mother and a Namutian father. This makes Ninma ethnically, 50% Kishic, 25% Jezaai, and 25% Namutian.

Ninma has 14 siblings, of which she is the youngest

Partially due to Hutbaris desire that his children not become undully influenced by their mothers's foreign influences, Ninma spends very little time with Zibatha, and knows relatively little about her.

Despite her young age, at the insistence of her father, Ninma has been tutored on how to read and write and is quite adept at it, when she wants to pay attention at least

Ninma's favorite story or piece of literature is The Naked Lord and the Crashing Waterfall by the poet Ramu, a less than age-appropriate comedy. Much to Ninma’s displeasure, the tutor who allowed her to hear this tale was promptly banished from the palace grounds and replaced.

Ninma loves to climb and has already broken 2 fingers from various falls at the age of five.

Her favorite colors are yellow followed by red.

Her prized possession is the golden circlet which she wears on her head, given to her by Hutbari as a birthday present

Her favorite food is nubut tuntiwanash literally "ovened fish" or more simply "Baked fish". She is also quite fond of peaches, which being still new to Kishetal, introduced from the east, are an incredibly expensive delicacy.

And here is a bonus, an Excerpt from Book 1 Chapter 1

A pair of slaves wafted the king and his guests with fans of wood and parchment to cool the nobility and to shoo away the fat black flies that had a penchant for taking afternoon swims in the wine and the beer. A handful of the king’s children took seats around the pit. The king's once prolific proclivity for producing children had slowed considerably in recent years. A rumor had drifted around the palace that Hutbari had become particularly close with one of his young advisors favoring the young man's company over that of any of his wives. They often disappeared into locked chambers to discuss policy and foreign relations. These discussions must have been quite heated if the sounds the servants heard emanating from closed doors indicated anything. The king’s youngest daughter, Ninma, dipped her bread in the wine, so as to allow it to soak up the crimson liquid. No doubt the little princess was meant to be practicing her letters under the eye of a palace scholar but Hutbari was far too engrossed by the fresh bowl of wine in his hand and the scene before him to notice her.

@patternwelded-quill @flaneurarbiter @skyderman @blackblooms @roach-pizza @illarian-rambling @dezerex @theocticscribe , @axl-ul By the way if anyone wants to be put into a taglist, please let me know by replying to this or messaging me!

[mysticstarlightduck]

My Words Into Potions Intro!

The Event (@moon-and-seraph)

I'll be working on two WIPs this March - my goal will be to attempt to finish Enchanted Illusion's first draft and give Of Starlight and Beasts a good headstart!

Title: OF STARLIGHT AND BEASTS

Genre - High Fantasy (medieval) Adventure/Dark Fairy Tale (with a tad of romance, that's a subplot)

Summary - In an ancient enchanted kingdom, Corah, the daughter of their land's most renowned adventurer, seeks to become the best knight that has ever lived. However, after meeting a young man with strange magic and no memories lost in the woods, Corah finds herself thrust into an unexpected quest when the once-thought-dead Queen returns to enact her revenge on their peaceful kingdom - and now it falls to Corah and her mysterious new friend to prevent destruction from reaching their land, if she wants to achieve her dream to be knighted. But are things quite what they seem?

POV - Dual POV (for now?), with some occasional POVs from important side characters.

Lenght - Novel/Book

Tags/Hashtag - #wip: of starlight and beasts, #wip of starlight and beasts

WIP Soundtrack - Of Starlight and Beasts Playlist

Snippet/Excerpt -

[...] Corah climbed the sandy stone wall, expertly weaving her way up towards the broken ramparts despite the weight of her armor straining her arms. Her hands reached the ledge, and she was able to fling her leg onto the walkway, pulling the rest of her body upwards.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, she wiped the dust off of her hands onto her trousers, waiting for her friends to reach her. Arammys' sunny locks were the first to peek through the ramparts, though, in his struggle to get a grip on the stone, his hands nearly slipped - she lunged, grabbing hold of his wrist just in time, and helping him heave himself the rest of the way up.

Behind him, Eidan followed suit, pulling himself over the wall nearly effortlessly. Arammys stared at him, impressed and annoyed at the same time.

Turning around as the duo started to bicker, Corah rolled her eyes, looking down to the city below, the sprawling sea just barely visible through the white stone buildings was filled with trading ships from near and far, the sky seemingly filled with colorful flags and banners. But she knew better than to trust the city's apparent normalcy - the Crimson Queen's soldiers were already here, just waiting to catch them on the streets down below.

"We'll need to figure out another plan, it seems" She winced, sighting a suspiciously familiar hooded figure just out of the rampart's gate ahead. Her hand instinctively went to the hilt of her sword.

Just as she was about to back away, Arammys popped up beside her, not noticing the enemy just below. Corah pulled Arammys behind a pillar just in time before the person looked up, nearly spotting him. She whispered through gritted teeth, exasperated. "Do you seriously have a death wish?"

"I didn't notice that the guy was there!" Arammys replied, an indignant remark spoken through a whisper as he pulled the hood of his cloak meticulously over his head, obscuring his hair and face. He peered over the pillar, this time more carefully, onto the street below, noticing more and more of the Queen's men. "Gods, the city is really crawling with them. How are we supposed to reach the docks? They'll kill us!"

"No, they won't." Eidan broke his silence, motioning with his metallic arm for the duo to follow him, "I know a way in. But you're really not gonna like it." [...]

Title: ENCHANTED ILLUSIONS

Genre - Victorian-inspired Dark Fantasy/Mystery

Summary - The brutal war between humans and mythical creatures came to an end 100 years ago, with a peace treaty being achieved and the rival nations finally coexisting peacefully in the capital city of Ansburke. Now, however, a crooked secret organization - dubbed the Hemlock Society - seeks to plunge the city into civil war, preying on the prejudices left over from the previous centuries of warfare to feed the uneasiness between humans and Myths once more. Now, as tensions reach a boiling point, a group of misfits and outcasts must work together to thwart the Hemlock Society's dreadful plans before civil war erupts, in a race against time to save both the people of Ansburke and their own lives, as they dive deep into the world of intrigues and secrets that lay just beneath the city's perfect surface.

POV - 5 Main POVS, with occasional POVs from important side characters.

Lenght - Novel/Book Series

Tags/Hashtag - #wip: enchanted illusions, #wip enchanted illusions

WIP Soundtrack - Enchanted Illusions Playlist

Snippet/Excerpt -

Augustus and Harriet walked down the cramped alleyway, following their unexpected guide. Whilst the necromancer maintained his usual unphased composure - hands behind his back, chin held up high, relaxed smile - Harriet could not help but look over her shoulder once every few seconds. Every shadow seemed to be someone ready to jump at them, to drag them to the deepest bowels of this town and never return.

She pushed the intrusive thoughts down, scoffing at the outlandish notion. Still, the sky was unnaturally covered by smog - smoke continuously billowing from the foundries' skyscraping chimneys, mixing with the cloudy mist - and the lamplit streets were a cramped maze of shops, tents and intricate buildings, metal being the most prevalent sight. Nothing like Ansburke, she thought.

The quicker they find what they're looking for, the sooner they'll return home. And hopefully, stop this madness from unfolding. There was an unwelcome, fiery chill in the air and people bustled through the street around them. She inched closer to Augustus, their shoulders brushing - and tried to convince herself it was simply so she wouldn't get lost in this industrial maze, not to sate the pit of uneasiness that had taken hold of her chest since they reached the gates of the city. Ahead, the eccentric young man leading them whirled around.

"Alright, if ya guys wanna blend in and find out more about that scumbag of a Mayor, you'll need to get some local clothes - not that there's nothing wrong with," He gestured to their dapper attires, now slightly torn and dusty after their ordeal at the train ride, which stood out like a sore thumb when compared to the crowds around them "that, but you two scream 'Ansburke' just by existing." [...]

[fractured-shield]

WIP excerpt tag

Rules: Post some writing!

thanks for the tag @honeybewrites! here's something from my kind of sort of edited chapter 4:

One copper could buy some of the sweetest pastries on the market-street, even the large ones that she could share with Oenith and Condel tomorrow. Of course, now she had to choose between them.

She was trying to decide between a custard pie and a tart with fig filling when she was distracted by the sound of someone behind her speaking Cenaith. Therien turned quickly, looking at the crowd with wide eyes as she tried to place the voice—no, voices, at least two, and post-war Cenaith at that: variations on the mixed dialects found on young elves born after the old kingdoms’ remnants had blended together into Tarnuvin and Lauthein.

It didn’t take her long to find the two of them—one with tidy red curls wearing the white and crimson of Lauthein, and the other with black jaw-length hair in the grey and brown of Tarnuvin.

“Um—sorry, I—”

Therien probably should have expected them to stop their conversation short to look at her, but the intensity of their surprise to hear her speaking Cenaith was a bit intimidating. She stopped short, flushing nervously.

“Oh!” The dark-haired one said after a moment, lighting up with a grin of recognition. “Oh, you’re Therien, aren’t you?” They looked to the redhead and explained, “That’s councillor Idhren’s daughter.”

“Um,” Therien said again. She thought for a moment, as hard as she could, but still couldn’t find their name among the vague memories of junior councillors older than her, the ones who studied or worked as scribes while she and Oenith and the rest read books or fought with wooden swords and sticks. “Sorry, I don’t—”

“Aestarn,” they pointed to themself. “And don’t worry about it. You wouldn’t have seen me around, I didn’t travel for councils until a few years ago, and I wasn’t officially studying under your father until then either.”

“Really?” The other gave a curious frown—and hurried to introduce himself as Veor, before looking back to Aestarn. “I would’ve guessed it had been longer. I didn’t get to travel for a council until after five years with my mentors.”

“Ah, well,” they shrugged, and moved next to Therien to look at the pastries. “He wasn’t really taking on students for a while there. —Have you tried these before? Are they good?”

Therien shrugged at the last part, directed at her, and decided on a honey cake instead of either the custard pie or the fig tart. It would stay fresh longer, and she wanted to share it with Oenith and Condel. “Never tried them. Couldn’t you have worked under Rosmorn or Aina?”

Aestarn reached into their pocket for a coin of their own, and fussed over the button for a moment as they answered. “Sure, and miss my chance to learn from the war-council mediator? The only Alliance councillor from the Western Expanse? I wanted to research the geopolitics of territory shifts in the last war and western trade routes were crucial to that. It was worth the wait.”

She’d never thought about it that way before. To her, he was just her papa, and none of it seemed particularly significant or impressive, because it was just him. It wasn’t surprising that he’d wanted Aestarn to wait a few years, after her mother’s death, but the fact that Aestarn and Veor spoke about it like it was common knowledge—

How much do I not know about what happened after I left? And—

And Aestarn had been in the market yesterday. She flushed redder as soon as she realized it, and hoped that they wouldn’t bring it up.

Everyone saw me make a fool of myself, didn’t they?

“Doesn’t the second meeting of the day start soon?” She said instead.

“It does,” Veor cut in, trying to direct Aestarn’s attention away from the shop. He squinted at the sun for a moment. “We have a little time left, but they wanted to use the recess to see the market.”

“You wanted to look at jewelry! You said, ‘Ridanna earrings are in style right now, and the stone quality is nicer than we see imported to Lauthein—’”

Therien found herself laughing at the two junior-councillors’ antics. She turned back towards the shop to purchase a small honey-cake as they continued their teasing, then moved out of the way. The cake was wrapped securely in paper. She crumbled a bit off one side, then folded it back into the wrapping and stuffed it into her pocket.

She watched Veor and Aestarn’s playful arguing until she’d finished the bite of pastry. It was good, dense and fresh-tasting and so sweet and—no, that was childish, she didn’t like sweet foods that much. She’d only gotten it to share with Oenith and Condel, and only because the two councillors were there as well.

“So, what did—” she interrupted to catch their attention. Aestarn wrestled with the too-tight buttonhole on their pocket again, trying to put their coin back inside it. She tried again. “What did the Council say about the riots yesterday? I still haven’t heard the truth, only rumors.”

And only what her father and Hal had told her. If she was going to help, she had to know more.

tagging @bonniewame @themboty @runner-owen if you want to join, and anyone else who wants to jump in!

[sapphiel]

Would it be alright if you gave us some fun (or not so fun)facts about Verum and Mazziken?

Verum Timore is the Grand Minister of the Unified Church of Si'Roth, which is a faction made of refugees who managed to successfully escape the wrath of their tyrannical empress who plunged the lands of Si'Roth into war and chaos, while also seeking to return their gods to their rightful place as their rulers. Initially, they couldn't really get along due to varying beliefs and preferred deities of worship, so Verum formed the Unified Church so that everyone involved can work under one name for the greater good.

Verum did not start off with this appearance, as she used to be a healthy, strong, and valiant priestess, caring for the weak and needy. But after the Imperial Dominion found her people's secret hideouts, they were bombarded with weapons called blightcannons, harpoons that exploded into shrapnel infused with corrosive blightessence, breaking down any possible hiding spots and flushing out the people. Verum, caught in the attack and the midst of the blight's bombardment, laid in agony, slowly dying, until a mysterious deity found her and, after negotiating a pact, gave her vitality and strength to continue her service to the Si'Rothian gods.

The entirety of her skin has been melted off due to the blight, ever dripping a dark ichor, and most of her body is coated in dark stained bandages that need constant replacement. She is in eternal agony, but nevertheless maintains a warm and caring personality for those that look up to her, and even finds the time to visit random schools and orphanages to aid in caring for the children.

While she maintains a soft side, such as reading stories to children and caring for the weak and needy, she is a merciless and brutal warrior on the battlefield. Her weapon of choice is a long crimson halberd, and any foe who survives her encounters will talk of unfortunate souls gored upon her weapon, only to be viciously shook about, as if to drench the ground below them with their freshly spilled blood. Some even claim she has the capacity to inflict a primal fear on anyone who beholds her visage...

Currently a WIP, but you may visit her Toyhouse profile to see more info about her~

Mazziken Harrow is a nun who serves under the Church of the Sunken City. She is the adoptive daughter of the Head Priest, and is quite the fanatic servant. Being a servant of the Sunken City rather than Obsterkallen, she is not immediately trusting of the latter's people, only when approved by her father does she free them from her doubt.

Mazziken is not only a high-ranking nun, but is also the assigned Executioner for would-be prisoners or criminals. Her tool of choice is a massive greataxe, taller than herself, wielded with such precision and power that, despite its hefty size and unwieldly shape, cleanly and effortlessly decapitates a kneeling fool in need of swift judgment.

Should she go to battle or start an execution, she enters an alternate state of mind where she becomes rabid and berserk for blood and violence, yet seems to maintain her sense of self and awareness, cutting through foes as she madly cackles in glee, ecstatic at the thought that she gets to serve and please her Church to even greater lengths.

Her left eye is the result of a small pact between her father and herself. She had torn out said eye and given it to her father in exchange of a rite that allows him to observe through her eyes at any time he wishes. It also seems to flare up when she enters her berserk state, indicative that she may be losing herself to the joys of battle once again.

She is the caretaker of Navina Diavla, another nun of the Church of the Sunken City.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wips on Fridays.

And I seriously feel like it's Tuesday...where did the week go? Why are there earth tremors all the time? Why can't I just art more? idk.

Anyways tagged by @mareenavee and @thequeenofthewinter so thank you guys!!!

Going to drop this week's art and a snippet from something I finished on Sunday.

Art first!

At the stage where I can just use my own shit as references like the dork that I am.

More under the cut! That includes writing.

Because I like him so shhh.

And a cropped for the sensors line art. Ok Writing that relates in a way to all three of these arts..since they are all set within the same 6 months design-wise (sans guns and all that).

Why? Teldryn dressed in the armour he’d been wearing since he crawled out of that damn swamp, old netch leather he pulled off some bandit that tried to shoot him in the ass. He tied his scarf around his neck, stroking the faded vermillion fabric for a moment. Comfort, the only thing he has that provided it. As he slung his pack over his shoulder, something caught his eye. That damn Dwemer Coherer that he had apparently sold his life for. That curious little object just lay there on a shelf, one amongst many miscellaneous objects gathering dust in a storeroom. The thing was a marvel, used as a component on one of their brilliant machines… That sadistic old mer wouldn’t miss it? Would he? Why should he care? Teldryn snatched it from the shelf, quickly putting it in his pack. Fuck him, fuck all of them! He made his way towards the door and opened it into the cool evening air. He had so many things to do. So many reports to write, journals that Caius would want to look over. Every little sordid detail, every expense. He made his way to the shore, journal in hand, his leash that the Blades held him by. He opened it and began to write. - gave me the potion. It didn't cure me. But it did remove all apparent signs of the disease. Divayth Fyr said he didn't actually WANT to cure me, just remove the harmful features of the disease while preserving its virtues. Well, it worked. And now he is eager to test the potion on the other subjects in the Corprusarium. I must hurry back to report to…report to. He scribbled out what he had just written. Awful! Hurry? Why? What was the point of any of this? His skin began to itch again and he sighed. He ran a bandaged hand through his hair, felt the bare skin that dotted his scalp. Bare scalp? He pulled his looking glass out of his pack and assessed the damage. A long scar stretched across his right cheek, cutting into the old tattoos that snaked across his face. He looked drained, pale. His long hair patchy, matted. He hated it! He pulled a dagger out of his boot and began slicing at the strands, hacking, slashing, the hair falling to the sand below. Golden mask, crimson robes. A cacophony of moans, a legion of writhing bodies. A beating heart. He dropped the dagger and fell to his knees. He screamed, burying his fists in the wet sand. Child of his flesh. SPEAK WITH US! He screamed again, throwing a clod of sand into the ocean. He grabbed his journal, tore out the page he’d just written and threw that into the ocean too. Fuck Caius Cosades! Fuck the Blades! Fuck Divayth Fyr and his weird fucking daughters! Fuck that other old man with the snobbish attitude! Fuck the Empire! Fuck the Emperor and fuck the leash that they held him by. A fire ignited in his hands, the journal he had meticulously kept since being dumped in Seyda Neen almost a year ago smouldered in his grip. He’d rather spend an eternity in the prisons below the Imperial City than spend another second serving the whims of those uncaring fucks! “FUCK!” He screamed! His voice, or what was left of it finally returning. Ashen and coarse, unfamiliar. He pounded the sand, punched it until exhaustion overtook him. He slumped over tears threatening to choke in vision. The blur was permanent, everything was out of focus. He couldn’t shake it, couldn’t focus. He punched the sand again before rising to his feet. No, he would not go back to Balmora, he was done with this guarshit! Let some other poor sod chase an ancient ashlander fairytale. He was done! They could think him dead for all he cared. He wasn’t entirely sure that he wasn’t. He’d head west, he didn’t particularly care where so long as he could be alone. His skin itched, ash and sinew clouded his vision.

[bardic-tales]

7.27.24: WA: Issue 2

The daily writing updates are going to be stretched out, since it is summer. Next year will be my daughter's senior year. We have a lot of planning to do over the year. Senior year is definitely the busiest.

It's hard to find a time where I can sit down and just write. I am probably going to go back to a more structured writing schedule. Before I did my best work in the morning, but that changed shortly after I started to write again. Now, I find afternoons to be more productive for me.

Author’s commentary

I am still unsure where this short story is going nor do I know what's it title will be. Right now, I'm just titling it as wip: untitled. Hopefully, the title will come to me before I finish it. I am following Rachel's short story challenge for this piece.

I always found the concept of sirens luring men away to be fascinating. There is something about how a song can just enthrall someone. That is probably why the Little Mermaid was on of my favorite Disney movies growing up, since it features a stolen voice.

When it came to created the races for each kingdom in the Abyssal Plane, I decided that I would have to have some sort of siren there. My sirens will be based upon poisonous fish. For the main antagonist in this -- and the cult leader of Asmodeus' cult -- I naturally decided to design her off of a Lionfish, since I view these types of fish as elegant and powerful. Lysandra is no different.

Speaking of the name, I couldn't even think of a name for the siren, at first. I always feel like the names have to mean something or represent the character in some way, but as I sat there and stared at the blinking cursor, nothing popped up in my mind for her.

When this happens, I tend to go to my husband for help. He is he one who titles most of my work now, since I often blank when it comes to creating something. He suggested Lysandra and Cassandra Blackwood as her alias. I'm incredibly happy with both of them.

Snippet: (tw: Abduction / Kidnapping. Child Abuse / Neglect. Dark Themes. Psychological Manipulation. Stalking. Supernatural Elements. Violence / Threats.)

As always, this is my trash draft. There will be grammar issues and sometimes incorrect grammar. It is unpolished.

When Asmodeus tasked me in finding his daughter, I didn’t know what I expected to find, Cassandra Blackwood thought to herself as she sat on the bench awaiting the bush that would travel across the Alaskan wilderness while she kept a close eye on the two travelers who were huddled together as one of them looked at the bus times and the other the crowd behind them.

Cassandra looked down at her clasped hands. The well-manicured fingers folded together with the crimson-polished nails shining brightly against her black, puffer jacket with the white mink furred lined hood.

She could smell his scent on the girl: cherry blossoms, vanilla, and brimestone. In fact, she had smelled the young teenager two nights ago when she was standing outside of the type of decrepit motel that she and her father always seemed to stay in. It was obvious that the father wasn’t providing for the girl, and it would make it so much easier to break her spirit to return her to the Abyssal Plane.

[geralts-yenn]

WIP title ask❣️

I had a hard time deciding whether to ask you for more information about Believe In Me chapter 9 or the HTB piercing WIP.

And since I'm in dire need of both, may I get both, pretty please?

Hi, my lovely Maja 💕

I love talking about my vampires as much as I love talking about my biker boys, so I am giving you something for both fics.

Well, at least as much as I can.

The Hearts Too Big piercing doc is not more than an idea and a handful of screenshots of chats I had with @raccoon-eyed-rebel about this.

The plan is to give Mel a piercing, too. It's going to be a surprise for someone, it's going to be difficult for all of them for different reasons. And it's going to be sweet and hot.

I really hope I get to write this soon. Your ask definitely made me want to get back to it 😍

For Believe In Me, I have a little snippet for you.

I have re-written a lot of this chapter already multiple times, so I'm not exactly sure if this is going to end up in the story like that. But I do believe it's an interesting glimpse into the future of my vampire boys:

“Destiny has a strange kind of humor, don't you think, Augustus? Bringing those two together after stealing the love from his mother and me?”

August didn't answer except for a low grunt. The amber sparks in his crimson eyes seemed to glow brighter as usual as he stared down the man opposite of him. 

“No matter how you feel about it, Augustus, Nyx was meant to be mine. You can't deny that.”

“Are you here to argue about things that have been behind us for centuries and can't be changed anyway? Then I want you to go. We had a rough day. The worst in a long time. I almost lost Melot. Your daughter lost everything tonight.”

August stood up and leant forwards over his desk until his face was only inches away from the god he despised so much. 

“So if you are here to see Aurora, I ask you for one thing. You're not going to mention Melot’s past or Nyx to anyone.”

[carooosa]

WIP Wednesday

Ok so I know that i've been tagged in a couple of these and I know that I've been slacking so here's a bunch of my WIPs. Thank you for the tags: @harlequinromancing and @starryjuicebox

WIPs below the cut (the first one is NSFW)

Snippet from an Upcoming Longfic: He rummages through his bag before pulling out what looks to be a ball. When he brings it closer, however, you see that it’s a ball-gag.

“I was going to save this for later, but it seems like it could be useful now,” he says while fastening the gag on you. He pulls it tight, making you gasp.

He makes a slow circle around you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. "Look at you all tied up for me," he coos as he hooks a finger under your chin, forcing your attention on him. "It's a shame we don't have all the time in the world -- I won't be able to savor this as much as I'd like." 

You watch as he undoes the fastenings on his trousers with one hand, his cock flushed pink as it springs forth from the restraint. He gingerly rubs the head, slowly peeling the foreskin back. You've begun to drool from the show, and Astarion takes notice. "My, my, looks like someone is needy. Well, we shouldn't let this go to waste," he says as he swipes away your drool with his head. If it weren't for the gag in your mouth you would have surely taken him whole, but all you can do is whine.

Ascendant Dadstarion Drabble: So much had changed in the last 40 years. The Crimson Palace had been entirely refurbished, Astarion had successfully infiltrated every corner and faction within Baldur’s Gate, and his army of spawn had begun to grow. Albeit not in the way he had originally hoped as you were always quick to bring up the ethicality of creating new vampire spawn whenever he broached the subject. He wouldn’t complain though, at least not whenever you were near, as you gifted him with his first spawn; a daughter.

Fatherhood wasn’t what he had in mind when Astarion had begged you time and time again to let him make an army, and to be honest, he didn’t even know it was possible. But after many talks with some old friends, it was discovered that you could in fact, reproduce.

Corporate AU Fic: Shadowheart turns her body towards Tav at the semi-receptive response. “Tav, huh? Is that a nickname for something?” Tav nods their head before averting their gaze and turning back towards the window. “I won’t pry; everyone is allowed to have their secrets. Look, I hate to ask for a favor from someone I just met, but could you turn towards me again?” The request is weird enough to get Tav to look back at Shadowheart. A relief flashes across her eyes as she puts on a fake smile that doesn’t quite match the words she whispers. “Can you look to the seat across the aisle – without making it obvious – and see if that githyanki woman is still watching me?” She ends her sentence by tilting her head to the side, leaving just enough room for Tav to peek over her shoulder.

Sure enough, a githyanki woman sat across the aisle and is staring directly at them. She didn’t seem to notice Tav stealing a glance in her direction as her eyes were set on searing a hole through Shadowheart’s head.

“Um, yeah she’s looking over here – is she a friend of yours?” Tav asks only to be cut off by a forced laugh from Shadowheart. “A friend? Oh no, I wouldn’t call her that. I’d say she’s more of a disgruntled rival, if anything,” she says with an exasperated sigh.

Only tagging TWO people because we're all in the same circle and I want to make sure everyone has a chance to tag someone: @bloodinwine @dhampling (my gods do I want to tag like 10 of y'all)

[your-absent-father]

The daughter's of Lady midnight: oc introduction

I introduced a new wip yesterday. Here are first patch of the characters. These are the assasins of Lady midnight. Other character's will be on a separate one.

All pics are from pinterest. Send me an ask if you know the og creator.

Tw: lot of murder talk, mention of a racist attack

Lillian Blackburn aka "the ember"

Age: 27

The most well known killer in London since jack the ripper. Best known for the cross she leaves in her victim's bodies in a cross formation. Taught by a french soldier during her time as a nurse in the war how to use a gun.

Lillian Blackburn has been a cynic ever since her brother, the only living family member, died in a great war. There has always been only one person she trusts fully: herself. She has never even trusted Lady midnight, the enigmatic widow of a king of london crominal underground, who gave her a job as a assasin to Lady midnight's growing network, and a cabaret singer by day. Only time she has fully let herself trust someone, was the biggest mistake she has ever done. Victor Sharpe, her would-have-been husband.

Inez Morley aka "the crimson"

Age: 19

Inez Morley, even as full blown member of the assasin group, is the one not taken seriously, mostly due to her using seduction as a part of her killings. She is the most loud and brash of the group, getting into most trouble with the law, but get off most easiest with lady midnight. Lady midnight swears Inez to be the heir of her empire, a child of her and her late husband only known as Mr. Morley, but her darker skintone looks more like Mr. Morley's former assistant Gian Raval.

Inez loves her work though. She loves her weapons, the look on people's faces when they pass. She even loves her coworker's, especially Loretta, but totally non-sinful way.

Loretta Spencer aka "Scarlett"

Age: 20

Loretta Spencer is the sweetest of the daughter's. So sweet, you couldn't guess in your wildest dreams her profession as a killer. Loretta hates what she does, which she does only to stay with her mother, and repay Lady midnight for helping her with Loretta's abusive father. That's how her mother explained it at least.

Loretta has a plan to get out of killing, which includes Lady midnight's assistant Farhan Raval, and the happy ending she has imagined in her head. One without murder, bloodshed and poison.

Laila Spencer aka "nightshade"

Age: 38

Laila Spencer is a woman that has been trough hell and back. She got pregant at 18, lived on a street with a newborn, and finally, finally after a while, agreed to become the first female assasin under Lady midnight. Laila knows how the life has been to her, and the last thing she wants is for her daughter to repeat her mistakes. Still, even after all that has happened to her, she never stops being goodhearted abd softspoken.

Nellie Mitchell aka "Velvet"

Age: 24

The singer of the moonlight Cabaret where all the daughters perform in. When Nellie was a child, after her parents traveled from USA to UK for a better life, she was attacked by local kids which made her limp slightly while walking. It also gave her the most brutal of the murder weapons: a metallic cane Lady midnight gifted herself.

Nellie, like Laila, understands the shelter being under Lady Midnight was the most out of the group. Nellie has always dreamed of bigger, so much bigger than she felt was capable.