#one for sorrow wip

[caninemotiff]

Favourite trope; forest that is a little bit alive

[nicstylus]

Lines!

[glorfindel-of-imladris]

In the House of the Golden Flower, there is a small falls that juts out of a crack along the mountains surrounding the hidden city.

Upon one of the larger rocks beside the pool sits Glorfindel, sketching, as he sometimes would, and this is how Ecthelion finds him.

"Who is that?" he asks, peeking over Glorfindel’s shoulder.

Glorfindel, far too used to his friend coming and going in his house unannounced, paused for but a moment to acknowledge the other's presence before continuing with his delicate task.

The face on the page is no one Ecthelion knows. He is an Elf, that much is clear, with dark hair, an intelligent face, and the most piercing eyes Ecthelion has ever seen. Ecthelion prides himself in knowing the ins and outs of Gondolin, for he values no task above the protection of their hidden valley. He is therefore certain that this Elf is not one of theirs.

"I met him in a dream," says Glorfindel. His charcoal tip tenderly traces the outline of a cheekbone.

“I see.”

Ecthelion makes himself comfortable, sitting beside Glorfindel as he nudges the other with a teasing elbow. “Is this how the people of Gondolin are put out of their misery? Our most eligible bachelor finally caught—and right under our very noses! In a dream!”

Glorfindel snorts. “Stop it. I am hardly the most eligible when you are also yet to marry.”

“You are right; we must therefore keep your newly found unavailability a secret, lest they remember to think about me.”

Glorfindel fondly shakes his head.

More seriously this time, Ecthelion asks, "What is he like?"

His friend thinks for a moment. "Intimidating."

"Intimidating like Maeglin at a party or intimidating like Egalmoth when asked a stupid question?"

"Intimidating like no one. I daresay he gives Egalmoth a run for his money."

“Huh. Didn't think you were into that."

Ecthelion watches the way his friend’s eyes go back to the page. He can hardly recognize Glorfindel like this, so long a brother-in-arms whom he never once saw regard another the way he is now regarding this mysterious dream Elf. But he is certain of the color on Glorfindel's cheeks, catches the nearly subtle way he bites his lip, a smile threatening to break.

Fondly, Glorfindel admits, "Neither did I."

[nightseeye]

Call me Rozer the way i. Uh. Put dozer. In red.

Anyways heres a better look at those references im using :]

[space-writes]

find the word tag

tagged by @artdecosupernova-writing, thank you! my words are basic, ground, bed, after, before, during. I’m almost five chapters done with the new Valloroth draft, so these are all from there.

no-pressure tagging @pens-swords-stuff @revenancy @ceph-the-ghost-writer and @ashen-crest with the words sound, might, cost, and scratch.

[ID - a green and black decorative divider]

basic simple

“One simple reason, vidaa.” He turned to her, leaned in, and tapped her on the nose. “I’m the boss.”

ground

His thumb brushed his ring once more, and with a twist of slithering shadow he was back in the street, moving even before his feet hit the ground. Darshana’s oasis. One of the less powerful Wives, but not one to take lightly. Quite the coup for her to get her hands on a prize like the witch. He headed north, the shadows of the city welcoming him like old friends. Indira would not greet him so fondly, but that was of little matter. He didn’t need her fondness. He only needed her powers.

bed

Vancis made a sound that wouldn’t have been out of place between the teeth of an ashboar, and tossed the note back to where Devotion had found it, neatly laid out on Prince Lucian’s desk. His whole room was like that; neat. Tidy. A decorative model of a young man’s room, with the finest silks perfectly arranged on his bed, paintings worth a full year of Devotion’s wages hanging on the walls—even the bars on the window were edged with silver and covered in decorative carvings.

after

“Well, Mundy, it appears there’s half a brain in that head after all.”

before

“Lock her up,” he said. “And if either of you breathe a word of anything you think you heard tonight, you’ll be out in Wild Infernus with broken horns before you can blink.”

during endure

[Lucian] poked at the undergrowth with the tip of his sword, looking for anything that might be a ‘track’ of some kind. Heroes didn’t complain about a few aches and pains, or lament leaving behind their libraries. They just got on with it. If he intended to be one of them, he’d have to endure discomfort and fear and frustration of all kinds, and come out the other side standing tall.

[ID - a green and black decorative divider]

Valloroth taglist: @cherrybombfangirlwrites @reininginthefirewriting @memento-morri-writes @foxboyclit @lawful-evil-novelist

@at-thezenith @morganwriteblr @fayeiswriting @serenanymph

@sam-glade @viscerawrites @thegreatobsesso (ask to be +/-)

[luvrluffy]

Resisting the urge to write this so I can finish my current wip is killing me

[helioscenic]

TAG GAME: PINTEREST NAME AESTHETIC

RULES: Search the name of your oc followed by the word,

1. Fashion

2. Pantone

3. Food

4. Mood

Then use the first pin (or second OR TENTH...) that comes up in your search.

Thanks for leaving this as an open tag @winglesswriter !!

- ALISTAIR

- MAGDALENE

- SORROW

TAGGING

@writingamongther0ses @cream-and-tea @serpentarii @wildswrites @strangerays

And of course anyone else who would like to play :)

[auburnlaughter]

Happy WIP Wednesday!! Please add a few sentences to Renegades Title Here? :)

And for a small anecdote, the entire time we've been doing WIP Wed together (of which I think I've requested RTH here and there), I had no idea that Renegades was the name of a show... until now! I just saw the gifset you reblogged of Hank Storm with the renegades tag and excitedly shouted "It's the hot guy from Numb3rs!!" I get why you like the show, and I might have to go out and watch some of it myself now! So thanks for the accidental rec :) Anyway, happy writing!!!

Alas, Renegades is a movie and not a tv show (oh how I wish I had a tv show's worth of stuff for Hank and Buster). Hank is totally the reason I watched it though. I had just finished rewatching all the Numb3rs episodes that Lou Diamond Phillips is in and I wanted more because look at his face. I just started going through his filmography looking for stuff that looked like it might be interesting. The summary on wikipedia included the line "Hank rescues Buster and nurses him back to health" and I went, potential for whump and/or hurt/comfort?Yup, sounds good to me. I, uh, may have gone and gotten obsessed.

Anyway, thank you for the ask! I got lots of editing done on Renegades Title Here (Two Halves of a Whole being the title I eventually went with when I started posting the earlier chapters on ao3), so here are three new sentences for you from Mraaaah.

WIP Wednesday Game - The Sorrows of Ra (fanfic)

"You will give it back when you're done, won't you?" Jonathan asked plaintively.

"Jonathan, of course I will," Evie said, favoring her brother with a disappointed frown. "Unlike you and Rick, I do actually know the proper meaning of the word borrow."

[kedreeva]

happy wip wednesday! hope it's a productive one, could i request a bit of Sentinel CH13

You could!

WIP Wednesday | Make Me Write | Guiding Light

-----

“It’s nothing,” he tells her. It’s unconvincing.

“You were doing that thing, where you zone out,” she tells him. “What were you sensing?”

[aheavenscorner]

WIP Wednesday

She wanted nothing more than to cradle his face in her hands, press a feather-light kiss to every single one of his scars. She wished to hold his hands close to her eyes in reverence, just as she had done when they first met, and so many times after. Yet, she knew it would be for nothing. If she knew him like she thought she did, he would push her away.

She wanted to love him, and he would not let her.

How can I accept your forgiveness if I have done nothing worth deserving it?

The Sage’s eyes darkened in ire. Tears burned the edges of her eyes as she stared intently at the pathetic sight in front of her. Had all their living years been for nothing? Did he believe her love to be so weak as to simply accept such an affirmation? No, he must have known her better than that.

Her hand rose to his cheek, wiping away the tear’s trail. Then, it quickly moved to the underside of his chin, forcing it upwards until his line of sight lined up with her eyes. Her voice was cold, lined with the anger and the pain she had held onto since the day she passed.

“So it’s punishment you believe you deserve.” It was not a question. “Very well.” Her grip moved slightly down, tightening just enough around his neck so he would not dare to move. She wished it had not come to this. She wished things had been easy, but she knew better. Nothing was ever easy.

In her tears, there was an apology. In her eyes… a plea. Come back to me, it said. Come back to me. She prayed to every deity that this would be enough.

With all of her strength, she lunged the steel blade forwards. It pierced his heart right through the middle, and blood had already started to stain the edges of the cut. Her voice was airy, like a broken whisper.

“Is this enough punishment for you to stop drowning in self-guilt, my love?”

From an rp between me and @linktheacehero, I have no regrets 😈

[unusual-ly]

🌹

Sorry, I ended up going to bed before you sent this last night so I’m answering it the next day, but thanks! From chapter 1:

She finally caught up with him and took his hand, but he snatched it away, grabbing her by the wrist instead and pulling her along behind him.

[caninemotiff]

- WIP: One For Sorrow

One for sorrow / Two for joy / Three for a girl / Four for a boy / Five for silver / Six for gold / Seven for a secret never told.

Eight for a wish / Nine for a kiss / Ten a surprise easily missed / Eleven for health / Twelve for wealth / Thirteen beware it's the devil himself.

- ABOUT

TITLE: One For Sorrow

GENRE: Contemporary Fantasy

POV: Third Person Limited, Multi

TRIGGER WARNINGS: death, body horror, mentions of domestic abuse, tba

THEMES: Coming of Age, Folklore, Magic Realism, Death, The Nature of Belief, Spirituality and Theism, Queerness

- CHARACTERS

Julian 'Jules' Silvera, The Psychic's Son

Isaac Grayland, The Knight

Harper Duarte, The Chalice

Margot Lamsdale, The Sword

Corinn 'Cory' Kin, The Piper's Prophet

- BLURB

One for sorrow.

Julian Silvera deals in death, the Silveras have always dealt in death. Tasked with keeping the balance between all things, Jules has been settling hauntings since he was twelve years old. But now settled himself in the small town of Endhaven, Pennsylvania, the balance is tipping and he is failing to set it right. There's something wrong in the Magpie Wood. Something that involves an oblivious boy with a god at his heels. And an all too knowing girl with an old debt wrapped around her throat.

Seven for a secret never told.

Isaac Grayland thinks his mother may be dead. It's hard to tell when she's humming in the kitchen and buried in the backyard at the same time. He thinks she may have been dead for a while. He thinks she might be getting stronger.

Thirteen beware it's the devil himself.

Corinn Kin dreams of rot and ruin. She dreams of the forest creeping ever closer, consuming everything in its wake. She dreams of despair. She dreams of hope. Corinn Kin dreams of magpies, thirteen of them to be exact.

- TAGLIST (ask to be +/-)

@cozyprompts / @writeouswriter / @stuffaboutwriting / @cream-and-tea / @stormharbors / @ladywithalamp / @philocalizt / @wildswrites / @darkgazer / @muddshadow / @ghostschemes / @lockejhaven / @froggywriter / @nightjarz / @moariin / @funerals-weddings-and-balls / @5targrrl / @cream-and-tea / @reneesbooks / @serenanymph /

[madeofbees]

after a long run of managing my time well, i have vanished from social media because, simultaneously, i am:

planning a novel

planning an etsy/patreon

designing patterns

stitching patterns

researching mythical animals

writing five different hannigram stories

planning to rewrite a ten year old full-length novel

planning a new heville story

actively reading eight separate books, not including books for research

having four separate really important doctors appointments in the next few weeks

relistening to all of crime junkie (again)

probably should have a social media presence but

turning my bedroom into a blanket fort (again)

more supplies are on the way

[thebarontheabyss]

This tale starts with your death.

Read WIP here

(Current wordcount: 240k!)

You remember only the moth, carrying you through the cosmos.

And so, the Abyss beckons you.

Now, you are a spirit, immortal. After a meeting with the Grim Reaper, Death, you were gifted with a peculiar inheritance: a bar.

This mysterious establishment and the Abyss around it serve as a nexus, connected to every realm in existence. It's a haven where spirits and deities, devils and angels, converge to drink and revel.

Yet, beneath the surface, an unease stirs. A voice calls out in your dreams—a loneliness that echoes through the Abyss. Why does it seek you?

A motley crew of spirits and immortals, each hailing from distant corners of the realms, stands with you. Bonds are waiting to be formed, or even love that transcends death itself—perhaps even with Death themself.

Manage your bar, where serving a drink to a god or an eldritch entity is just another day's work. Unravel a cosmic mystery, go on a date in infernal Hell, witness the universe's creation, or unlock the arcane secrets of magic.

Your new afterlife awaits.

A narrative-driven experience focused on character development and storytelling.

Play as any gender or none.

Shape your personality through meaningful choices.

Engage in deep and complex relationships with a diverse cast of characters.

Romance mortals and immortals alike - if you want poly, purely physical, or asexual - they will respond in kind.

Explore the afterlife, visit realms of immortals and gods, and uncover the dark secrets of the bar.

M\F\NB (Poly or Monogamous paths) Death reveals a surprising warmth beneath their eternal duty.

Is there room for love within their everlasting embrace? Read more >>>

M\F (Poly or Monogamous paths) This devilish being, a powerful magnet of desire, seeks more than power in the bar’s shadows.

Who dares to pursue the heart behind the flame?

Read more >>>

M\F (Poly or Monogamous paths) The Witch, with their feline companion, seeks a lost soul, their magic stirring trouble and passion alike.

Can a mortal love thrive in the spirit realm?

Read more >>>

M (Monogamous path)

A mercenary turned security guard, Hastur carries an immortal burden, guilt born of past battles and sacrifices.

Will your love heal his wounds?

Read more >>>

NB (Monogamous path) The spectral diva enchants with their voice, their performance a dance of beauty tinged with the sorrow of eternal life.

Can your love find a new song for them?

Read more >>>

M\F\NB (Monogamous path) A shade keeps the bar’s order, and his silence holds the weight of cosmic secrets and the tapestry of existence.

Will your heart fall for the being behind the shadow?

Read more >>>

With feathers dark and wit sharp, The Raven’s history is as rich as the bar itself. He offers piercing insight beneath a layer of humor.

Read more >>>

The stern soothsayer-turned-accountant Yaga guards the bar’s fortune while wrestling with her own spectral regrets and wisdom.

Read more >>>

Shelly, the bar’s assistant, brings life-affirming warmth but seeks a new family to fill the void of her lost one.

Read more >>>

Welcome to the cosmos: the tapestry of existence, a complex weave of ever-changing realms. Each domain is a thread in the grand design.

Read more >>>

Feedback on any typos, grammatical errors, or other textual issues.

Notes on any continuity errors to ensure a smooth and logical progression.

Thoughts and opinions on the plot, characters, and overall narrative experience.

Don't be shy about sending your feedback - as small as it may be. I'll be answering and taking each into consideration. You are very welcome to post your reviews here!

The game explores themes of Death in various forms, including suicide.

Alcohol indulgence and its various side effects (hangovers, vomiting, etc.)

Sexual themes (currently only non-explicit)

[storm-of-silver]

CLIMBS INTO UR ASKBOX

tell me about hawk pls

YOU'VE OPENED PANDORAS BOX HEHE

I'll actually have to go back and edit the intro post bc i dont think i mentioned it, but during the Final Light, the Colony of Mist actually survived! Sorta. They were the last colony to get hit since they live high in the mountains, and they were able to see the other colonies getting attacked before the broken ones got close to them.

Since they had time to react, the commander decided to go to drastic measures and ordered the collapse of the cave entrance to their settlement. It'd protect them from the broken ones, but they'd be sealed in the mountains (at least, until they dug their way out). Problem was, they needed cats on the outside to trigger the collapse- someone had to get separated and face the broken ones alone.

[Image ID: Two images of roughly the same character. The first image, drawn by may- on TH, shows a canine with black, cream, and orange fur. The second, the redesign, shows a tortoiseshell tom with brown eyes. There are three scars in a line on his side. End ID]

Queue Talon of Hawk- Wing of Hawk at the time! Up until the Final Light, he was perfectly happy with his life and was a role model to other trainees. Hardworking, honorable, kind, loyal, and with a strong sense of justice, he was mostly known for being a dependable cat with a heart of gold.

It ended up being his downfall of sorts though; The second the commander asked for volunteers, Hawk stepped up to the task immediately. His friend, Eyes of Storm, joined him right after, along with two others who looked up to Hawk. The two cats who joined him died triggering the landslide, and Storm was caught by a broken one a few days later. With the fate of the Colony of Mist buried under layers and layers of stone, Hawk was the last member of the Colony of Mist.

For two years he wandered, joining any small group he could, before finally joining the Colony of Clickers (a post-FL group, they use clicking ones/robots to protect themselves! I'll be making a post on the neverlight era factions eventually). The leader/commander, Voice of Snow, gave Hawk the epithet of 'Talon' in honor of his devotion to his colony. He numbly accepted the new title, the reminder of what he had saved and had lost.

He settled in, having craved the comfort of a colony life, but he can't help but feel completely alone now. The Colony of Clickers has hints of every colony, all of them but his. In his attempt to protect his home, he lost it all completely- and he'd never change a thing. His colony is safe, and even if he'll never see it again, he can rest easy knowing he did the right thing.

While other characters prooobably have more going on with them (looks at literally all the neverlight era leaders and commanders), Hawk fills the "normal guy" role which happens to be one of my favorite character tropes. He's in a cat faction that controls a bunch of robots to protect themselves from quadrupedal slendermen and he is COMPLETELY aware how bonkers it is. He's also just a kind guy who really doesn't have trouble figuring out whats 'right' or 'wrong'- closest he'll ever get is having trouble deciding between following the Sacred Decree or his heart and feelings.

Also since he's the last Colony of Mist member, he actually got dibs on naming the current era. The Colony of Mist is THE authority on naming important events and since there was no one else to name it, everyone was like "OH GREAT KNOWER OF HISTORY, TELL US YOUR WISDOM" and Hawk panicked and went "uhhh theres no light. ever. So the Neverlight Era? Ok get out of my lodgings now please-"

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Hugs

About time I finished this WIP that randomly appeared in my head. I've just finished defeating Cazador and mannnnnn I really really want to hug Astarion and never let him go.

Summary: Astarion learns to hug you.

“Can’t get enough of me, darling?” Astarion purrs into your ear, sliding his arm around your waist to pull you closer. He leans in, pressing a kiss to the tip of your ear before letting his lips trail downwards, sending a shiver up your spine but you push him away, placing a hand on his chest.

“We don’t need to do this.” You shake your head, “I just want you, not your body, not your services.”

He feels his heart jump into his throat, anxiety gnawing at him but he smiles outwardly anyways, as practiced. “Which part of me exactly do you want?”

“All of you,” you breathe. He blinks, surprised as you intertwine your fingers with his, a thumb gently brushing over his smooth skin. The warmth sends tingles from his arm to his body, a fuzzy feeling blooming in his chest that fills him with uncertainty.

Is this genuine love? Is this how love is supposed to feel like?

Why would you want all of him?

He cannot understand why you would want the monsterous side of him, the side that craves blood, the side that is spoken in hushed whispers, woven into stories parents tell their children to scare them into bed. He hides his fangs whenever he smiles, afraid that your gaze will be drawn to them and that they will be all you ever see of him but you never seem to be scared of them, always open to him sinking them into your soft neck so that he can drink the ambrosia that is your blood.

You place an arm around his waist, noticing that distant look in his eyes and press your chest against his, hoping the sensation will bring him back from whatever abyss he’s fallen into and his head snaps up, ruby eyes locking with yours with a look you’ve never seen in them before. You feel his hand tremble as he tentatively rests it on your back and he inhales sharply.

“If you’re not comfortable we can stop,” you murmur. “I don’t want to force you to do anything.”

“You’re…not, darling. It’s just…” He swallows. “It’s nothing.”

You narrow your eyes. If all this time spent with him has taught you something, is that every time he says ‘it’s nothing’ it’s always something.

“Astarion, you can tell me anything, but take all the time you need, alright?”

His lips quirk up for a split second, instinctively sending you a reassuring smile but the smile quickly fades, replaced by a sorrowful look. He gazes at the ground, suppressing the urge to just melt into you. You deserve someone better than him, someone who could love you properly, who understood what love truly meant and didn’t feel disgust rising every time they placed a hand on your skin because of their past. No matter how much he loves you, he’s not the best one for you.

You reach out to him, a hand gently touching his cheek but he pulls away with a snarl, fangs bared and you quickly stumble backwards, surprised at his hostility. His eyes widen when he realises what he’s done and guilt devours him even further. Your touch feels tainted, even if it lacks the usual lust and desire behind it, but that is no reason to hurt you. He forces himself to reach for your hand, muttering a quiet apology as practiced and rests it on his cheek, willing his body to remain still like always.

Doing this should be easy, he’s been doing this for centuries, so why does it feel so difficult now?

You look at him with concern, an emotion usually devoid in the eyes of those who touch him and pull your hand away of your own accord.

“I’m sorry.”

Why were you apologising? He was the one in the wrong, he was the one who had broken the moment, he was the reason the night had turned from one of tranquility to one of tension.

“There’s no need to apologise, love. Shall we continue?” He leans in once more despite the sickening smell that your scent has transformed into. “You’re just that intoxicating.”

Still, you push him away, noticing how he’s zoning out each time he moves closer to you. Worry creases your eyebrows and you take a step back, moving just out of his reach.

“Did I overstep any boundaries?” You ask. “I’m sorry if I did.”

“You didn’t, darling.” He shakes his head. “You’re far too perfect to make such mistakes.”

Far too perfect for him.

“Astarion,” you realise what’s plaguing him. “No matter how long it takes, I will always be by your side. You are my star, my entire world, no one else can possibly replace you or be better than you.”

“I shouldn’t be,” he mumbles. “I only add to your burdens.”

“Well, it’s only fair that you do that since I do the same to you.”

“No you don’t!” Astarion snaps. “Don’t you ever say that about yourself!”

He glares at you, fists clenched, his clawed fingertips digging into his palms. You raise your hands in surrender, slowly stepping away from the riled up vampire spawn upon whom realisation has dawned. He inwardly curls up even more, despising himself for taking out his anger on you and yet no matter what he does, you refuse to leave. You’re still standing there, a safe distance away but within his line of sight with no intention of leaving him. He cannot wrap his mind around why you would do such a thing, why you wouldn’t leave someone as unstable and unloveable as him, but a small part of him is grateful for that, he can’t bear to watch you leave.

“Sorry.” He chokes out, the word leaving a foreign feeling in his mouth. “I —”

“It’s alright, apology accepted.” You smile. “We should return to camp, the others must be wondering what is taking us so long.”

Astarion shifts from one leg to another, scratching the back of his neck, “wait, darling, please.”

You pause, turning around to look at him, “yes, Astarion?”

“I…” He starts. “It’s not your fault, it’s mine. Everything feels tainted, touching you feels disgusting, being so close to you feels nauseating, but it’s not your fault. It has nothing to do with you, I promise, it’s —”

“I know. You don’t have to say it out loud if you don’t want to. I’m sorry I can’t erase the past, but I want to help you forge new associations with touch.” You raise a hand, palm facing him. He does the same, shakily moving his palm closer to yours but encouraged by your smile, he presses your palms together. He swallows the bile rising to his throat and looks to you, waiting for you to make the next move. You take a step closer and he does the same, although his step is filled with much more uncertainty. You give him an encouraging nod and take another step. This time, his step is more certain, made with the signature confidence you know and love.

After a third step, the both of you are close enough that your nose fills with the scent of bergamot, rosemary and a hint of rosemary, overlaying Astarion’s real undead scent. You cautiously put an arm around his waist and when he doesn’t flinch, you grow bolder, removing your hand from his and putting the other arm around his waist.

He freezes, but the action raises no memories he’d rather keep locked away so he tries to keep himself grounded, to feel the soothing warmth of your arms around him that mean him no harm. He locks eyes with you and your gaze washes all the fear away, stirring something within him. He wouldn’t have dared do this before, but tonight you’ve given him more than enough courage to attempt this.

Astarion steels himself, and then puts his own arms around you. His undead heart thunders in his chest, fear consuming his mind. What if you pull away? What if you hate his cold touch? What if —

You lean into his embrace, silencing all his fears and nuzzle into his chest. He lets out a breath he never realised he was holding and buries his face into your shoulder, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Your embrace is vastly different from the previous embraces he’s had, all you want out of it is a display of love and care, you don’t want his body, you don’t want what he can offer, you don’t want anything in return.

As he continues to hold onto you, never wanting to let go, he lets a hand wander up your back, finding a better position to pull you closer and you hum in response, happily burrowing deeper into his arms.

“I like this, you know,” he whispers. “Whatever it is that we have, I don’t want it to end.”

“I feel the same way,” you whisper back, breathing in his scent. “Let’s stay here like this, the others can survive on their own for a little while longer.”

“I’m sure they can, my love.”

Hugging has definitely made its way to the top of his list of favourite things to do with you, Astarion thinks, listening to your happy hums as you soak in his embrace. He should do this more often.