#nevena

[mareenavee]

(Tired) WIP Wednesday

Dragging ourselves through the week through the chaos <3

I've been ill but writing has been a balm! I'm gonna share a few snippets with you.

Was tagged by @thana-topsy (HUGE HUGS! Aiden and Sarel are adorable and you DID IT. You did the thing!) and @kookaburra1701 (I'm still waiting on Book 32 of your fic universe, and will cheer until its ready!)

Tagging especially @changelingsandothernonsense for the Sad Wars which have produced amazing content as of lately from me, for being writing exercises hehe. Not to brag, I'm just really fond of the work! And of course the amazing @paraparadigm, @thequeenofthewinter, @snippetsrus, @wildhexe, @nuwanders, @oblivions-dawn, @miraakulous-cloud-district, @throughtrialbyfire, @expended-sleeper, @inquisition-dragonborn @archangelsunited, @dirty-bosmer, @viss-and-pinegar, @ladytanithia, @polypolymorph, @gilgamish, @tallmatcha, @rainpebble3, @late-nite-scholar, @greyborn2, @saltymaplesyrup, @orfeoarte, and YOU. Because yes. You are tagged. Tag me back if you have stuff to share! I love to see it.

Below I have a few samples from some WIPs! I'll start with World, as I'm restructuring chapter 31 <3

This selection is long, too! 1,050 words, below the cut!

1) The World on Our Shoulders, Chapter 31 Athis's POV as he goes through Northwatch Keep to save Thorald. 219 words.

Still, there was something unsettling about how unnaturally quiet this part of the keep was. The hairs on the back of Athis’s neck stood up, some instinct he couldn’t place screaming of danger. Something was wrong. He’d felt this way once, years ago, before a bear charged out of the woods that time his hip had been shattered. He’d almost died, then, if it hadn’t been for Farkas and that priest out of Falkreath. Odd, that, as it was a priest of Arkay. The irony wasn’t lost on him. Now, however, was not the time to lose focus.

Athis pressed against the wall that lead out of the twisting passageways into a room that looked, from what he could tell, like some kind of torture chamber. Only, the air rippled with some kind of magic that felt like static on his skin the closer he crept. He remembered how it felt when Nyenna used certain spells nearby; this one didn’t feel like anything he could recall, and that didn’t bode well. None of it did, if he was being honest. He got the sudden notion that perhaps it wasn’t worth all the trouble — that Thorald might already be dead. But no. If there was the slightest chance that he was still alive, Athis couldn’t leave him here. He wouldn’t.

2) Storms Like This A secret WIP I'll be editing and finishing soon for a friend. 266 words.

He’d thought back to one of his favorite memories of her, besides their wedding. Before they’d decided to adopt and start a family, they were living comfortably in Proudspire Manor in Solitude. He’d been overwhelmed at first by the city he’d only ever passed through before. Living in it meant becoming entangled in the political nonsense, which Sigyn seemed to take in stride. She’d come home, fancy clothes thoroughly drenched from the rain after being gone a particularly long time on what was supposed to be a local errand, and deposited an old hip bone into a chest by the door. Unnerving, sure, but not too atypical for her.

She took him by the hand and dragged him out into the storm, onto their back porch, all while Jordis silently judged them both from her perch at the kitchen table. Sigyn had said nothing, only smiled as he’d exclaimed from the cold downpour the further she led him outside, but then, even over the thunder, he’d heard it—the Bard’s College, practicing for the Burning of King Olaf, bright and clear, almost enhanced by the storm, music reverberating through the very stones of the building next door. They danced together, on their porch, regardless of the weather. It was if, for a moment, the entire world consisted of only them. She’d laughed even as their sodden hair clung to their faces, and as water ran freely into their eyes. [He] knew then, despite all of her chaos, he would follow her absolutely anywhere for as long as he lived.

Storms like this always reminded him of her.

3) Fragment - part of The Bitter, Bitter End (Unpublished as of yet.) Featuring Nevena Ules as the POV and Orvas Dren. (Yeah. Ew.) 209 words.

Orvas was leaning over the stone parapets, looking down into the courtyard where regular people milled around on business relating to Vedam’s gathering. The moons shone overhead and, besides the noise of the crowds and bards inside, all was silent. She cleared her throat, and Orvas turned to her. He smirked—the same sarcastic look he’d won her heart with when they were younger and under far less pressure—and closed the distance between them.

His eyes, blood red in this light, held storms. She knew what had been worrying him, but she was trying hard to ignore that part, until it was safe to talk about it. Vedam’s overreaching included parlaying with the Empire and solidifying trade between Morrowind and other provinces. Only, there would be an embargo if the Blight situation got worse—which it already was, by the day. And if all of that work was so new, the newfound strength of House Dren would be the first to collapse. Orvas had said as much, and had been bringing it up in their conversations more often as of late, because Vedam wouldn’t see reason. He thought he could see a solution, but even thought of it scared her.

He wanted to ally the Camonna Tong with the Sixth House.

4) Fragment - part of It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn (Unpublished as of yet.) This one is is Danger!Bean Varlais's POV. 353 words.

Varlais never felt like he belonged anywhere in particular, to be fair. His parents had been elevated slightly after a few turns of events when they’d moved with Ondolemar’s family to Skyrim. That was, technically, his doing, all those years ago, but they were still othered by most Altmer of any rank, Thalmor or not. It was complex, of course, and he didn’t have the energy to parse it all. He’d leave that to Ondolemar, who seemed like he could hold every political detail in his head, as if his mind was some kind of tome.

All he knew was it had to do with the Ayleid ancestry that refused to fade into the background for his family, no matter how many generations. Aerissa, at least, never looked down at him for the blue eyes, thank Auri-El, but she was back in Alinor now, doing clerical work for the Thalmor. And, of course, he was stuck here. But at least, if he was here, he could try and save her from them. No matter how badly he missed her, he’d keep fighting. Before she became a thrall, well, she’d always stuck by him. He looked down at his ring, the gold band glimmering with a faint enchantment, the metal worn and scratched. Somehow, likely by Mara’s direct intervention, he’d not lost the thing, nor had it torn through his skin and bone in some horrifying way. He touched the edge of his left ear where he’d lost an earring that way, and was grateful at least in that moment, his magic worked to stanch the bleeding.

As of late, he’d been feeling even more unmoored than usual, despite Ondolemar’s best efforts—the man was seventeen different kinds of distracted, after all. They were and always had been close as brothers, but with so much changing and hanging in the balance, Ondolemar had to focus on the plan. They had a goal, after all, as impossible as it all seemed. The Civil War and the Dragons were mucking up pretty much everything. Varlais also tended to make himself a problem, though never intentionally. Not really.

[angsty-prompt-hole]

Because I might as well yeet another at you, future for Nevena and your choice for Creek

OHOHOHO

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

Nevena's worst possible future is definitely one where she gets scared and runs away from something big, like a massive confrontation or a battle, and she'd have to live with the guilt and consequences of her cowardice for the rest of her life. She doesn't really realize it yet considering how young she is, but she has a very stable support network to help her work through her anxiety problems, so this future will probably never happen.

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

Creek's biggest desire is just to be healed. No more scars, no more physical marks, no weird supernatural bullshit, no PTSD, just normalcy again. She doesn't say it in so many words, but it's clear in how uncomfortable she is with herself and her physical appearance, which is now massively altered due to her missing eye, her scars, and the marks left by the various possessions she's experienced.

She thinks she'd do a lot of things to heal herself completely, but she's slowly starting to realize that it doesn't quite work that way and that she might just have to get used to what she is now and learn to accept that she's changed. Everything is very complicated for her right, between her worst fear returning (Red) and her grappling with the fact that becoming "normal" again might strip her of her immortality and cause the other members of her family to suffer, since they would remain immortal and she would not.

[teresiel]

Favourite Character Bingo - 2023

Characters I first encountered in 2023 (not necessarily part of media released in that year).

These are intended to be ordered loosely according to genre, moving from classic to contemporary horror, sci-fi horror, thriller horror, on to drama, comedy, then comic/cartoon and fantasy. Naturally, plenty of these don't quite stay in their own prescribed mould and could be considered fitting for another genre, but this is MY PARTY and I make the rules >:(

The hardest thing I've ever done may just be forcing myself to choose only one Baldur's Gate 3 character. If this was ordered by fondness for the characters, Astarion would be up top, but it's not and I'm petty so he's last and least.

As may surprise no-one, the prevailing trends are trickster archetypes, gothic looks, autism coding, and sympathetic or misunderstood status and/or rebellion. Also Billy Crystal is there.

Listing below the cut!

Countess Marya Zeleska - Dracula's Daughter (1936)

Mrs. Danvers - Rebecca (1940)

Lady Sylvia Marsh - The Lair of the White Worm (1988)

Nevena - You Won't Be Alone (2022)

Kim Diamond - Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2 (2000)

Brynn AND the Aliens - No One Will Save You (2023) (as an interacting set of characters, not necessarily as interesting actors singularly)

Violet and Corky - Bound (1996)

Andrea "Dre" Greene - Swarm (2023)

Gunther - V/H/S/85 (2023) - Goth boy who saves the day through his prescient lucid dreaming and rebels against being falsely cast as the villain, hell yeah.

Willard - Willard (1971) - would be in the top three if this were sorted by level of favoritism.

Gerd Wiesler - The Lives of Others/Das Leben der Anderen (2006)

Primo - Big Night (1996)

Walter Tattersall - Yellowjackets (2021-) - of call the cast and I fixate on THIS GUY. Got me again, Elijah!

Willie Jack Sampson - Reservation Dogs (2021)

Barabara Howard and Melissa Schemmenti - Abbott Elementary (2022-) - My god these two gripped me. Just give them an entire season. Gregory can be there too.

Gregory Eddie - Abbott Elementary (2022-)

Sally Albright and Harry Burns - When Harry Met Sally (1989)

Raven - Teen Titans: Beast World (2023-) - solely for her design; I am practically floating at the departure from emo/punk Raven and a return to a more whimsical gothic look. Another artist draws her looking like Billie Lourd and I'm into it.

Sharon Apple - Macross Plus (1994/1995)

Spider-Punk/Hobie Brown - Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023)

The Medicine Seller/Kusuriuri/薬売り - Mononoke/モノノ怪 (2007)

Astarion - Baldur's Gate 3 (2023) - He's my best friend, he's my pal, he's my homeboy, my rotten soldier, my sweet cheese, my good time boy, and I've been so excited for you all to see his whole schtick since way back in 2020.

Runner Up's: Shin Hati (Ahsoka), Mirror Woman (The Art of Mirrors) - don't ask, Nearly everyone else form Baldur's Gate 3 but especially all the companions and the Emperor oopsies I'm a sucker, Padraic (Banshees of Inisherin), Mary (Carnival of Souls), everyone from Dungeon Meshi but esepecially Marcille and Senshi, Lorne Malvo (Fargo), Motoko Kusanagi (Ghost in the Shell), Brigitte (Ginger Snaps), The Harppy (Harpya), Joel and Ellie (The Last of Us; kept out because of the Zionist higher plot), Dracula and Clemens (The Last Voyage of the Demeter), Martin (Martin), Izzy Hands (Our Flag Means Death), Father Amorth (The Pope's Exorcist), Deer Lady (Reservation Dogs), Elora Danan (Reservation Dogs), Adam (SAW), Carl (Skyman), Kris (Solaris), Kurt Kunkle (Spree), Sammi Curr and Eddie (Trick or Treat), Bitch Cat (V/H/S/94),

[inuageux]

Hehe, I couldn't control myself and I gave her a new outfit 🫣 and I love it! (+ her husband)

the first version // the new one

the old clothes are like they were in The origins, with a more jovial and radiant

Already this new look is in A New Era, as a mature and elegant woman. (her hair is still long, in fact she let it grow longer, but she loves hairstyles!)

[thecollectibles]

Art by Nevena Nikolcheva

[rockzone]

Nevena - Nevena

Release Date: 9 Dec 2022

Serbian singer Nevena Djordjevic released of her self-titled debut album in December. The record sees the astounding vocalist partner with producer and labelmate Mike Palace to craft its contents, adding his magic touch to material that combines a melodic rock/AOR oriented approach with a contemporary edge.

Nevena is a vocalist, songwriter, pianist and educator known in her home territory for her diverse work in musical theatre, rock, jazz and pop. Having studied music since childhood, she rose to fame as a performer and finalist on the first series of ‘First Voice of Serbia’ while still at school. Since then, she has grown accustomed to performing to huge audiences.

Despite her success at home, she was keen to broaden her horizons and enrolled at the Berklee College of Music in Boston to continue her studies, becoming active there by taking on lead performing roles and joining productions with internationally recognised artists such as Tigran Hamasyan, Sheila Jordan, Theresa Thomason and Paul Winter.

With the release of her debut album ‘Nevena’, she is thrilled at the prospect of introducing herself to melodic rock fans worldwide.

Standout tracks on the album are "Bulletproof" and "Bad Sun Rising".

[jareckiworld]

Nevena Prijic — Hot Rain (acrylic and flashe on canvas, 2022)

[mossarchives]

Pyre has melted my brain, so wanted to draw my Reader, Nevena~! They start going Demon-y after the second liberation rite, but this is a couple years after the ending.

[psikonauti]

Nevena Prijic (Serbian, b. 1985)

Active Matter of Evanescent Bloom, 2021

Acrylic and flashe on canvas

[ervona]

Day 6: In Bloom / Blood for @tes-summer-fest

Somewhere in the mists of hopefully still Molag Amur, a boy had lost control of his guar. It was his fault, having ridden too far away from the lake, but he’d been meaning to turn around when it had knocked him off with never-before-seen force and started running away. He followed it still within sight, somewhat slowed down by his armor, but he would have to get used to it if he were ever to become a knight. At this point his absence was sure to be noticed, and Ser—

What was that? His guar let out a frightening cry. Alas, he wasn’t the first to reach it, though he had run so close and out of breath. There was an unfamiliar robed figure, a swipe of too-sharp claws, a sickly light, stains in the ash. He reached for his sword, heavy and slipping with sweat, when the sunken face came into sight and he screamed.

Help wouldn’t come, for he had ridden too far away. He could only pray to the ancestors now. His shaking legs tripped him up as he tried to run, the armor pinned him down beneath the looming wormlike snout and bloodied claws. Uncertain was which one of them was shrieking louder. Another flash of light caught his eye before he slipped on a rock and out of consciousness. 

When he came to, he was struck by the scent of flowers and a throbbing in his head. Was he taken to the Moonshadow? No, merely his bed, with a vase of fresh willow anther and stoneflowers for good health and peaceful sleep, he remembered from his lessons in a bid to pull himself into the waking world. He was back home, alive, though he could hardly move.

Ama who was sat at his bedside stirred before him, as he was tucked in too-warm blankets up to his neck and only managed a few blinks. She shouted at a servant to bring something and pulled closer, her long braid dragging itself like a snake, her face paler than usual.

“Mavus! Oh, finally. Are you hungry, dearest?” There’d been a bump on his head where she kissed him gently, and when he raised himself up on his elbows to sit upright, he could see peeking from under his nightshirt dark bruises in bloom. 

“Aha-gh,” he coughed, and Ama handed him a cup from the nightstand. The cold splash of water was needed but unpleasant, through half-shut eyes he could see a large tray with food coming in.

“You’d think I asked for it tomorrow,” her voice took on a chilling tone when she grabbed it, placing it on her lap in view of Mavus. “Now get out, I’ll ring the bell if I need anything.”

The servant closed the door hurriedly, making him flinch from the noise. Ama took a bowl of steaming crab stew and pointed the spoon towards him as if he were a little scrib. 

“Sup it slowly, I don’t want you to feel ill.”

It hurt to swallow it even slowly, his throat torn by crying out for help. Still unsure what had transpired, he only wished to feel relief for being alive. He must’ve been staring at Ama, for she craned her neck as if expecting a question, brow pinched in worry.

“What happened to me? I was…” Reaching into his last memory got a sob out of him, nearly stew all over him. The gruesome display, the creature that had savaged his guar so and almost him as well, was hiding in the shapeless mash of the bowl.

“Brought in down from Nabia by boat. We had the Temple healer treat you there and then, but you were more terrified than hurt. Thank the Three.” Ama offered him a comberry jam tartlet from the tray, to which he shook his head. “Ser Dren told me everything already, you don’t have to retell it, unless that would help you.”

What if he’d told her that Mavus was a terrible squire who’d wandered off and almost got himself killed? His voice escaped him, and he wanted to tell Ama so badly that he hadn’t meant to, he hadn’t been thinking, but his mouth was as dry as those ashen wastes he was crossing ever still in his mind, repeating and haunted by a myriad of misshapen monsters.

“The guar—” was all he could muster before gurgling hot tears, his face burning. 

“We’ll buy you a new one. A better one!”

“No, no, I saw it…”

Ama nodded knowingly, diverting the subject. “They went to scour the area, you know. Whatever was out there is nothing to fear anymore.”

“Can you read me a story?” he asked, muffled in her wide sleeve. All he wanted was for it to go away, but loomed over him, ravenous soul-sickness. Ama was eager to do so, laid down beside him and took a book from the other nightstand, The Song of the Alchemists, and her sing-songy voice rocked him to sleep once again, but kept the terrors away if only for now.

In the wee hours–and he knew so for it was all quiet but the nightly bugs outside–Mavus arose slowly, gripping the frame of his bed in case his legs gave out again. Ama was no doubt up in her room, finally able to sleep herself, and he didn’t know if Ser Dren had visited again. He’d dreamed of the day, and in his dream a warm light pulled him ever closer. Ama, he’d thought, but it must have been Cardama who had protected him in that waking nightmare.

He knew the way to give tribute to the ancestors–sort of–but Ama didn’t like him handling the hearth on his own, even though he wouldn’t be hurt. He threw one of the blankets over himself like a cloak and gathered what he could from his surroundings. Cold jam tartlets that sat out the night, and a handful of flowers from his bedside that filled the room with sweetness.

Descending in silence to where the family shrine encircled a still-living hearth, he paused to look around the hall. Darkest darkness was calling him, and within it lurked terrible things. His only way away was the fire, weak but welcoming and enveloping him with the strength he needed to cross the threshold. Laying down what he’d carried in his makeshift cloak, he took a deep breath. First he offered a tartlet that burned slowly, then a stoneflower, and his heart’s wish.

The fire roared scarlet, and he wasn’t afraid one bit. “Cardama, is that you?” he whispered, face so close to the embers that he could swim in them. To his astonishment, she answered.

“Indeed it is, scrib,” the fire crackled, “but do not accustom yourself to calling upon me as you did now. It is my duty to watch over you, and from that us spirits are weary enough.”

“I won’t keep you for long. Just wanted to thank you and give something in return.”

“Something in return? Then listen well, for all I ask—protect the helpless, as I have you.”

“I’m going to be a knight, so I’ll help everyone in need,” he hesitated for a moment, with his embarrassment in mind. Would a true knight just give up and flee from a monster as he had?

The embers huffed. “Do you think of who brought your cakes, who harvested the comberry and wickwheat, who planted the seeds, when you offer them to me? As a knight, would you lift your sword to strike at the bracers that hold them prisoner and spirit them away from this place?”

“They’re not prisoners, they work for Ama. I… think she wouldn’t be happy with that.”

With his words, the fire sputtered and went silent. Had he displeased his ancestor? He felt a chill on the back of his neck, as if a dreadful curse crept upon him, but he didn’t understand.

“Hear me now, not because you are of my blood, but if it flows from out of a good heart,” she finally whispered back to him, not through the fire, through the very air itself. “Do not fear to wander, if your cause is just. Perhaps you could do right by what I gave my life for.”

“I don’t understand, Cardama. You want me to die?”

The air around him laughed, somehow, and ash blew into his face just right to remind him of his lowest moment. He could not cry in the presence of his guardian, but wasn’t that always?

“Live, wander and wonder, and think upon my words, Mavus-la. Three blessings to you.” 

In the silent hours before dawn when he liked to go out on the balcony to look at the fields in spring, he curled his legs up to his chest next to the still lightly crackling hearth. There was still time to make it spotless. He took a bite from one of the leftover tartlets, strangely warm but more bitter than usual. 

[mareenavee]

For the ask game :D

54. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them? ( 👀👀 at this one. No idea how you whip up so many ideas but more power to you LOL may they keep coming)

Hello <3 I haven't actually answered an ASK in forever, but I love these!! AH. Thank you.

54. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

My absolute favorite part is the ability to slightly twist canon and provide readers (and myself) with new takes on ✨weird magic shit.✨ Hehe. I really love when I can read TES like a text (which it kind of is), find a strange detail and absolutely go wild with it. I like writing on the rails for World, too, for the most part, but I'm really enjoying the bits I get to make up, like new pieces of dungeons, or worldbuilding that isn't touched on in the source material. It's a ton of fun.

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

@paraparadigm teaches us this best with Undnar, but the best kinds of villains believe wholeheartedly that what they are doing is the best way to proceed to get to their goals. That they are, without a doubt, wholly correct in their approach because to them, there is no other way. There is such a super fine line between a hero and a villain -- it should be that if you flip perspectives and hop into the villain's head, the HERO of the original story or POV looks like the villain from there. Evil for the sake of evil is hard to get right -- Evil because of really high stakes for that character is also difficult but I find it to be more satisfying to read and to write. :>

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

HEHE <3 I just stunlocked myself and @archangelsunited with the answer. I have 41 WIPS at the moment. BUT to be fair, I am participating in a prompt challenge or two, and more than half come from prompts and are mostly being collected as a crow might collect shiny things.

It's tough to narrow down a favorite 1 new WIP I'd like to talk about...but I can speak on one that's not related to the main fic's universe, and that's The Bitter, Bitter End.

It came up from some brainstorming sessions on Skywind and ultimately we didn't go in this particular direction because of...oof so many reasons...but I still LOVED the concept and, since I do write fanfic, I can twist it even further.

The quote might sound familiar to other Morrowind Fans. It will be a doomed Morrowind where the incarnate dies, but that's background as to why the world is as bleak as it is in that one. The main focus will be a political snakepit and the narrative will center around two slimy POVS: Nevena Ules and Orvas Dren. Or rather. Nevena/Orvas. It will end with what happens with the fact that Dren has linked up with the 6th house and nobody is around to stop the spiral of destruction. This links up super well with the villain question above. How does one build a story around two villainous POVs? I think it'll be a really fun challenge.

[pajorko]

They're so unserious lmao

[dariusz-art]

Mój obraz „Apollo Struck by Eros” wyróżniony w ekskluzywnej kolekcji na 100-lecie surrealizmu!

Mój obraz „Apollo Struck by Eros” został wyróżniony w prestiżowej kolekcji „100 Lat Marzeń z Kolekcją Malarstwa Surrealistycznego” kuratorowanej przez Nevenę Bojinović, z okazji setnej rocznicy surrealizmu. Continue reading Mój obraz „Apollo Struck by Eros” wyróżniony w ekskluzywnej kolekcji na 100-lecie surrealizmu!

[slaskie-portale-internetowe]

Mój obraz „Apollo Struck by Eros” wyróżniony w ekskluzywnej kolekcji na 100-lecie surrealizmu!

Mój obraz „Apollo Struck by Eros” został wyróżniony w prestiżowej kolekcji „100 Lat Marzeń z Kolekcją Malarstwa Surrealistycznego” kuratorowanej przez Nevenę Bojinović, z okazji setnej rocznicy surrealizmu. Continue reading Mój obraz „Apollo Struck by Eros” wyróżniony w ekskluzywnej kolekcji na 100-lecie surrealizmu!

[thecollectibles]

Art by Nevena Nikolcheva

[ourbalancedlife]