#rough draft cuts

[ganondoodle]

Destiny, a pre-skyward sword legend of zelda fancomic ✨

Chapter 1: Demon (page 37 - 40 out of ca. 70 )

archive at @tloz-destiny

[seifrin]

ISAT-ober Day 2: Change

[brynnmclean]

WIP Wednesday

It's Wednesday!!!!!!! Tagging @butcharondir @dwarveslikeshinythings @rain-sleet-snow and @allatariel if y'all feel like participating :)

I made a post about this late last night (also one bemoaning the fact that my chapter count might grow again, seriously cannot emphasize enough that I have up until now been IMMUNE to that fic writer stereotype, I'm a chronic underwriter usually, I swear), but here's a section of the Hellblade fic:

“I want to know,” Ástríðr seethes, “I want to know you regret it—all of it, the sacrifices, the tributes, your father’s tyranny over everyone he deemed weaker than you.” Gods. Shame burns like bile in the back of Thórgestr's throat. “I do regret it,” he says, looking her dead in the eye, willing her to see the truth. “I never wanted any of it. I took no joy in it, I’m not—I’m not that kind of monster, not a draugr.” When nothing in her expression changes, not even a flicker of belief, something wrenches inside him, beyond anger. “I am not my father, Ástríðr, I will never be him.” He has to stop, has to swallow hard to keep from choking—I was wrong about him, I was wrong... Ástríðr releases him and he sucks in a sharp breath like a flinch. “All right,” she says, her voice the flat of a blade rather than the edge now. She sits back down on the edge of the bed, but Thórgestr feels no relief. There is no yielding in her. This is only her allowing him to catch his breath and adjust his splintered shield before her next swing. “You did fight him in the end, I’ll give you that.” “He nearly killed me,” he spits, gingerly pressing one of his hands over the bandages. “I was his last sacrifice to the giant. To himself.” Quiet falls in the room at that, and Thórgestr feels it like a weight on his shoulder—the place where Áleifr held him still for the sword. A shudder runs down his spine. He leans back into the chair, pressing that shoulder hard against the wood, trying to focus on that feeling and not the memory. He turns his face away from Ástríðr’s gaze, but his sight falls on Áleifr’s sword still there, leaning against the wall with his armor. Suddenly, viscerally, he wants it gone—broken, shattered, cast into the depths of the sea. “I want to rebuild Bárðarvik.” Thórgestr turns back to Ástríðr, but she isn’t looking at him anymore, she looks out to the hall and the world beyond it. “I want the tools to fix our bridges and our buildings. I want payment back for what your Björg took from my people. I want food for the winter, sailcloth for our ships—and I want to take the Vestmenn away from this place of cruelty. Your father is gone. So is mine. But I’ll have what I’m owed. Tell me, Thórgestr,” Ástríðr says, “what is your regret worth? What of your word?”

[sanchoyoscribbles]

I don't normally post full pages outside of the comic website (unless it's the chapter covers!) but I wanted to post both of the transformation pages from this chapter because I really like how they turned out TwT

maybe one of my fav things to draw, cannot WAIT to draw more of these in upcoming chapters!!

if you wanna read tokyo miracle, go here! :D (both of these are from chapter two, which is about halfway done rn and updates weekly! you can also follow @tokyomiracle for notifications about updates, news, and freebies like HQ downloads of the chapters as they finish ^_^)

[compacflt]

wip wednesday: boy you really would’ve thought I’d have posted these by now

[diamondsandtoads]

I have 16 pages written!!!!!

16 pages of garbage but hey!!! that's 16 pages of something!!!!

[particleseparationroom]

ough fuck these chapters keep getting longer

[moe-broey]

Finally..... I have.... The Three Pages......... all it took was 17 or so pages

[sexynetra]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Hi my lovelies :) welcome to a story I started writing at 2am last night <3 obviously this is a very rough draft but I am excited for this universe to come to life <3

~~~~~~

“I’ll be moping whether I’m here or in France,” Anetra grumbled. “Might as well mope somewhere I don’t have to watch Denali and her new girlfriend be disgustingly affectionate while I pretend that I still believe that love is real.”

“You do believe love is real. You’re, like, disgustingly sappy and romantic literally all the time.”

Anetra sighed, running a hand over her face. “That was before. I’m swearing off love forever.”

“You told me yesterday you’re still in love with Denali. What's the truth?”

Anetra’s silence was an answer in and of itself. She picked at a loose thread on her shirt, procrastinating having to respond.

[readingloveswounds]

i really need to fix up my footnotes, since this will essentially make or break my page count. i'm hopeful but also uh. lotta words.

[ganondoodle]

me taking so long to get chapter two of destiny going bc i am slow tm and also keep getting distracted with the totk rewrite and my stupid gamedev dreams has the additional negative side effect that by now the happiness, motivation and feelings of validation i got from tags on my comic work has basically run out and now i have to keep working on it through sheer determination (and spite) alone q^q

[landinrris]

Pour one out for the 12k I've written about decision-making through the lifespan in the last two weeks 😩✊

[brynnmclean]

I've been having a rough go of it, but have managed to write a little. I do like this part:

Death is coming, but not yet. Thórgestr drifts.  He dreams.

He is in the eye of a terrible storm, floating in dark water.  Every so often, his head slips under the surface and he chokes on strange sea-water, thick and metallic on his tongue.  He comes back up and turns his head to vomit up Áleifr’s poison.  There is no strength in his limbs, only shadow and pain. Senua’s voice reaches him, close in his ear—soft murmurs telling him to hold onto her, she won’t let him go again. But fear is ice in his veins, heavy as stones.  I’ll drag you under, he weeps, I’ll drown you.   She won’t hear him, her hands cradling his face, sword-strong grip lifting him up.  And he has no will to struggle against her, grieved and grateful.

Distantly, he knows there are poultices and bandages, needles and prayers.  Conversations swirl around him like smoke, nothing he can grasp.  He shivers and sweats in a sick-bed, lost in a maze in his mind.

[doom-dreaming]

progress is being made

also.

[denizenhardwick]

i'm going to try to start posting scenes and snippets from twewy wips that will never see the light of day otherwise because i love my writing and think it's valuable to share even if the project didn't pan out the way i initially intended. the biggest thing of note here is that this includes the cut joshneku confession and backstory scene from my post-apocalyptic road trip au, probably with some editing to make it work as an epilogue of sorts.

[delrcy]

SAVE ME POSSESSED MAN WITH SIDEBURNS,