#not the queer menace is here pose

[eldritchflowerwriter]

An Introduction;

“Any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.” - Homer

About Me:

I go by Mercury. I've been on various websites for writing such as AO3, Fanfiction.net, DeviantArt, and of course Tumblr. This is my newest and much more serious account.

My pronouns are they/them or he/him.

My day job is a corporate desk job. Very mundane and humdrum.

My favorite books of all time are The Iliad, The Picture of Dorian Grey, Kidnapped by the Pirate, and Song of Achilles. I'll read just about anything recommended to me(I cannot promise I'll like it, but I can promise that I'll finish it one way or another).

My preferred genres to write are fantasy and romance. Even better when they're combined. And they're always, ALWAYS, queer.

Main WIP

A Corruption of Souls

WIP Excerpts (x) | WIP Moodboard (x) | WIP Page (x)

"For the first and last time, Deklyn froze to watch the carnage. The gurgles of his dying words still echoed in his head."

The menace of The Corrupted has reached heights that cannot be ignored. Everything they touch is destroyed. The world of the Hawkerons is in danger as their forces dwindle each time they push back The Corrupted from their borders.

Prince Kai Hawkeron has managed to avoid marriage for twenty-one years. But now that the forces ailing his lands are posing very real danger to their way of life, the only way to boost their forces is through an arranged marriage with the princess of the neighboring kingdom, Zelia of Alderon. He has no choice but to fulfill his duty.

Deklyn Delonir is a Knight of the Redemptor's Order. He is renowned for his skill in battle, his ability to lead from the front lines, and above all his honor and loyalty as a knight. Having seen the destruction that The Corrupted leave in their wake, Deklyn accepts the job to escort the prince to Alderon to ensure the marriage that will bolster their ranks and prevent more needless deaths.

As they travel together, Kai and Deklyn must decide what is more important: Following the oaths they are bound to or following the desires burning in their hearts.

Other Works Not Yet in Production

Sapphic MermaidxHuman Peasant

Sapphic KnightxPrincess

M/M Fae Romance

M/M KnightxPeasant

Social Media Links

Twitter

Instagram

[queercapwriting]

Also possibly a bit of NB!Alex? Maybe more of domestic Sanvers and Kara and Adrian interacting? Today's been a bit of a shit day in terms of feeling like I'm normal and valid and not being purposefully ignored and shot down.

It’s Sunday.

It’s Sunday, and – miraculously – they both have off.

It’s Sunday and they both have off and there’s not a Cadmusinvasion in sight.

It’s Sunday, and it’s noon, and they’ve refused to get outof bed – a combination of naked Sunday morning cuddles and lazy Sunday morningsex, and Maggie tracing, kissing, caressing the scars painted on Alex’s torso,and Alex whispering how much they love her in as many languages as they canspeak, traipsing their gentle fingers, their tongue, down Maggie’s throat, hercollarbone, her breasts.

It’s Sunday and Kara and Adrian don’t bother knocking, butthey probably should have.

“Whoa, guys, seriously? It’s noon! Did you forget about us?”Adrian squeals and turns around, covering his eyes even though his back is now tohis queer moms.

Kara does the same, groaning and furiously adjusting her glasses.

“Maggie, can you please get some clothes on my sibling?”

“And yourself, Mags, I mean let’s be real: both of your bodies are bangin, but I’m your kid and Kara’s your sister and we’re not trying to think about you like that.”

“Wait, Ade, does that make me your aunt? Oh Rao, that is just – ”

“Nope, nah, I take it back. Brother. I’m their little brother. We’re all siblings here. Except those two. Are you dressed yet?”

They both have to fight their instincts not to turn around when they hear a small crash, a string of curses from Alex’s lips, and giggles and dirty talk from Maggie’s, which Adrian might not be able to hear, but Kara sure can.

She hums loudly and sticks her fingers in her ears and turns to whisper-shout to Adrian.

“They still need a few minutes.”

“No we don’t you nerds, you can turn around now.”

They do, and Maggie’s in boxers and Alex’s flannel and Alex in flannel pajama pants and an oversized NCPD shirt.

“Well if that’s not the gayest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Adrian dodges the pillows Alex and Maggie both launch at him, and Alex turns away, chuckling.

“I’m gonna shower. Babe, coffee please? Do you mind?”

“You got it, handsome,” Maggie kisses them softly, and Kara sighs happily.

“Awww, Maggie, they make you so happy. And, you know, more than a little bit whipped.”

He squeals as Maggie lunges to wrap her arms around his waist and tickle him senseless.

“He’s not wrong,” Kara chimes as she takes down four mugs.

“Sure, but he’s still fun to tickle. Lucky your binder gives you some shielding, kid.”

Adrian grins and preens. “You notice my arms are getting bigger?”

Maggie puts her hand on his bicep and kisses his cheek. “Oooh, look at you! Oh, I got that, Kid Danvers. You wanna go set chill on the couch? You had a long night last night, you don’t have to make the coffee.”

“Seems like you had a long night too,” Kara teases, her eyes on the complete disarray that is Alex’s bed.

“I swear you two are a bad influence on each other.”

Kara and Adrian beam and put their heads together like they’re posing for a picture.

Maggie chuckles and wonders when this family started happening. If – across the world and across the universe – it was always destined to happen.

It certainly feels that way.

By the time Alex comes out of the shower, their pajamas replaced by their glasses and the Star City University hoodie and sweats Adrian bought them during his first term, Maggie and Adrian have pancakes cooking and coffee brewing, and Kara – despite Maggie telling her to rest on the couch – is padding around the kitchen with them, sticking her fingers in the pancake batter and licking them clean at every opportunity.

“Hey pretty lady,” Alex kisses the back of Maggie’s neck, and Maggie melts into their arms.

“Mmm, you smell good.”

“I should hope so, they just showered!”

“You’re such a menace, Ade.”

“My straight mama raised me better than that, but queer mama raised me right.”

Alex fives him around Maggie’s body and Maggie heaves a mock groan.

“Maggie, can I flip the pancakes?” Kara wants to know, and Maggie normally doesn’t let anyone other than Adrian cook in her kitchen – and she does, now, consider Alex’s kitchen hers – but Kara’s eyes are wide and eager, and Alex’s arms are strong and warm, so she leans her head back into Alex’s shoulder and hums.

“Flip your heart out, Little Danvers.”

Kara and Adrian high five eagerly and giggle as they each grab a spatula and do battle over the pancakes.

Alex grabs two mugs of coffee and they pad over to the couch with Maggie, giving her the mug with no cream or sugar – gross – and giving her a space to sit, to snuggle, between their legs.

“I make you happy?” they ask after a few minutes of watching Kara and Adrian’s pancake wars.

Maggie turns to look up into Alex’s eyes, a grave expression on her face.

“Of course you do, Danvers. And I make you happy?”

Alex kisses her soft, smooth, permanent, in response, and when they pull back, Maggie’s eyes are shining and her dimples are on full display.

“I like when you answer things nonverbally.”

“Mmm, I bet you do.”

“Not to interrupt the continuance of Sunday morning sexy times, but breakfast is ready!”

“Breakfasssttttt,” Kara moans, reaching across Adrian to grab a pancake with her bare hands.

By the time the coffee is nothing but dregs and the pancakes are nothing but syrupy crumbs, Alex and Maggie are sprawled on the floor, intertwined in each other’s arms, and Kara and Adrian have claimed either side of the couch, his Supergirl socks occasionally doing battle with her fuzzy slipper socks.

They don’t say much as they nap and giggle their way through food coma, through the musical Kara’s put on in ths background, but they’re all thinking, feeling, the same thing:

Chosen family feels so, so, so good.

[kyung-seokie]

I sit here, staring at the bleak insipidity of the blank page. The coffee mug lies close by, drained, empty, and I see the dried, russet coffee stains appearing on it.

“I should probably go clean that up”, I muse.

I don’t move.

A forlorn, death-coloured leaf, falling to the floor from amidst the flowers in the vase nearby, captures my gaze. The flowers, just like their departed friend, have started withering, and I feel, I recognise the air around me, embayed in the scent of dejection.

Things have been pretty much alike since a couple of weeks now, and I don’t know if I can see them changing anytime soon. It’s just that, with every dying day, the apprehensions of my writing taking that eternal downward spiral are deepening their vicious tentacles into the mundanest of my realities.

What is different today, though, is that, my face isn’t smothered in silent tears, or my hand isn’t scrawling furious nothings onto this notebook that, I feel, patiently waits with me for the homecoming of those nights of rhapsodic enchantment. There is a chaotic calm I am feeling. It is like sitting right in the eye of the storm. It’s like sitting on the ocean floor without an oxygen tank, and slowly, wilfully succumbing to the illimitable blackness that embraces you as the air, along with your life, gets cut off from you forever. It feels calm, cold, and real - rarely have I felt anything so real, so palpable - the coldness gives me goosebumps, and I taste the rancour of fear, of despair in my mouth.

What poses this queer sangfroid of mine as menacing to me, is me not knowing, not being aware of its origin, of the bearings of its roots that are devouring the poetic diction out of me, and are yielding the pernicious fruits of my literary inertia. 🍂