#siuil writes

[fanaticsnail]

I remember you mentioned having a Mihawk playlist, and the way you manage to find songs that perfectly fit the vibes of your fics and enhance the reading experience is one of the things I love about your writing

So I was wondering if you could share some of the songs on your playlist? Or even some songs that you associate with certain characters/tropes/scenarios?

I always love it when you send me asks, @sexc-snail.

I absolutely DO have a Mihawk playlist. I share the playlist construction with another creator on Tumblr who I love, cherish and adore: @sordidmusings. We add to it as we write, recommend songs as they come to us to help with words in works.

I could get into a long, long rant about music so I will add a page break here ❤. Lots of song recs to follow for the OPLA cast so far.

I am a violinist; have been playing for 25 years this year (I AM GETTING OLD, JEEPERS CREEPERS). Music is a great, passionate love affair for me and I adore learning about songs and pieces new and old. Here are some recommendations for songs and vibes I associate with the characters and the tropes.

I never add lyrics to my fics so the readers can visualize their own favourite melodies where they see fit, but I do have tunes in mind when I write them. The only fic I've really centralised a song about is the "You Should Be Sad" Mihawk fic I wrote a while back and the Koby series I'm writing.

Here are some song recommendations: all songs are Spotify linked. Enjoy a peek into my madness.

For the Characters

Luffy:

Long Way Home: Walk off the Earth, Lindsay Stirling

Following the Sun: SUPER-Hi, NEEKA

La Isla Bonita: Madonna

Zoro

Work Song: Hozier

Promise: Voyager

Cold Shot: Stevie Ray Vaughan

Sanji

Love Story: Indila

Know You Girls: Franz Ferdinand

Family Line: Conan Grey

Nami (She gets four, because she's amazing and I love her)

Runaway: Aurora

My Mother Told Me: NATI, Cullen Vance, Jonny Stewart

Outside: Ellie Golding, Calvin Harris

Queen of the Kings: Alessandra

Usopp

Mechanical Instinct: Aviators

The Higher Ground: Red Hot Chili Peppers

Eastside: Benny Blanco, Halsey, Khalid

Buggy

Be Your Shadow: The Wombats

Gasoline: Halsey

I Wanna Be Your Slave: Maneskin

Shanks:

The One that Got Away: The Civil Wars

Atlantis: Seafret

Barton Hollow: The Civil Wars

Mihawk

Seven Nation Army: Postmodern Jukebox

My Heart With You: The Rescues

The Snake: Lana Lubany

Koby (He also gets four, because he deserves only good things, and because Morgan Davies is Aussie like me)

Grieve No More: Patty Gurdy

Siuil A Run: Ella Roberts

Mad World: Jasmine Thompson

Again: Flyleaf

Helmeppo

Fighter: Christina Aguilera

Torn: Natalie Imbruglia

Elastic Heart: Sia

Garp

Sharp Dressed Man: ZZ Top

Under a Violet Moon: Blackmores Night

Billie Jean: The Civil Wars

For the Tropes

Unrequitted Love (My all time favourite thing)

Wrecking Ball: Beth

Can't Help Falling in Love: Tommee Profitt, Brooke

I Found: Amber Run

Comptine d'un autre ete l'apres-midi: Yann Tierson

Derniere Danse: Indila

Only in my Mind: Kenya Grace

Over and Over: Three Days Grace

Broken Pieces: Apocalyptica Lacey

Too Close: Alex Clare

Stupid Heart: Sorana

Enemies to Lovers

FMLYHM: Sether

Closer: NIN

Hella Good: No Doubt

Play With Fire: Sam Tinnesz, Yacht Money

Why'd You Only Ever Call Me When You're High: Arctic Monkeys

For when they give into their feelings:

Surrender: Natalie Taylor

As the World Caves In: Sarah Cothran

Freeze You Out: Marina Kaye

Say Yes To Heaven: Lana Del Rey

For when they give up but feelings are still there

Lose you to love me: Selena Gomez

Liar: Camilla Cabello

Darkside: Alan Walker

Say My Name: David Guetta, Bebe Rexha, J Balvin

Only Love Can Hurt Like This: Paloma Faith

I See Red: Everybody Loves an Outlaw

If you made it this far, thank you. This was a labour of love. Happy listening ❤

[shivunin]

Songfic Tag Game

Rules: Pick a song to accompany each of your fics or as many as you like. This might be the fic's inspiration or just pure vibes that you'd like to share with readers. Tag as many people as fics you feature (or do as you please!)

Thank you for the tag @greypetrel!! You know I'm a sucker for anything music-related 💗

Lol well I sure have more fics than I remember, so I'll do them until I'm ready to go back to writing/editing the oc kiss things c:

Tagging back @idolsgf @nightwardenminthara @inquisimer @dreadfutures @bitchesofostwick @vakarians-babe @jtownnn @ndostairlyrium @dungeons-and-dragon-age @star--nymph @zenstrike

Your Fate For Mine: (Elowen decides to sacrifice herself instead of allowing Hawke or Stroud die in the Fade; her friends try to find and bring her back) Anywhere On This Road by Lhasa De Sela

Wander the Drifting Roads: (After a horrible accident, Emmaera loses her Commander and lover in one stroke of a knife. Separated, the two of them must relearn who they are and where their paths lead) Mausoleum by Rafferty or Remember Us by Gabriel Royal or Flowers from Hadestown

Between Strokes of Night: (Hawke and Fenris's first night after deciding to be together again) Awake at Night by half alive

Saccharine: (Arianwen gives in to emotion for the first time in her life and takes Zevran to bed) Saccharine by Jazmin Bean or Kiss Me You Animal by Burn the Ballroom

To the Bone: (Soulmate AU! The last person Salshira intends to seek out is the one on the other side of the flame brand at her jaw. Love is, after all, one of the most dangerous things a person can do. Luck--or fate--drags her to the Inquisition anyway) Die Young by Sylvan Esso or All I've Ever Known from Hadestown

Scattered Stars: (Fenhawke anthology fic--this is where all my Tumblr fics go when they've been edited and expanded upon c:) Right on Time by Brandi Carlile or Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac

Palimpsest: (Fenris's perspective of the events leading up to the romance scene in Act II) That Unwanted Animal by The Amazing Devil or Peregrine by Mako

Tempered: (The Inquisitor learns of a death in the family and tries to manage her grief) Good Grief by Dessa

In Any Life: (Fenris leaves for Tevinter; he and Hawke try to write to each other, but their letters have gone astray) Siuil a Ruin by Anuna or Francesca by Hozier

The Scourge of Sundermount: (A monster lives in the mountains outside of Kirkwall. What fate is there for a monster but a knight with a blade sent to kill it?) Leviathan, the Girl by Phemiec or The Killing Moon by Echo & The Bunnymen or Strangelove by Black Math

Misericordia: (An elaboration on the scene where Cullen explains lyrium addiction to the Inquisitor) The Myth by San Fermin or Nothing Fades Like the Light by Orville Peck

As Two Reflected Stars: (Hawke and Fenris's developing relationship, as traced by the healing of wounds) I Know You Know by Charming Disaster or Arms by San Fermin or Anybody Else by The Ballroom Thieves

Book of Memories: (Sequel of sorts to Wander; moments in Emma and Cullen's relationships, each carefully noted in a single book for later reference) You and Me On the Rock by Brandi Carlile or Photograph by Cody Fry

Sleight of Hand: (Hawke is a stage magician. She's asked very few questions about her surly assistant, which has worked just fine for both of them--until his past comes calling) Enchante by Dirt Poor Robins or The Magic by Lola Blanc

[suneaterdev]

November 1-8 Log

Finished the shading on this week's page.

Finished lineart for next week's page. (1/8)

Finished Volume 10 of Siuil a Run.

Began Volume 11 of Siuil a Run.

Watched The Thing. It was really good, just wish I went in blind! Some of the big scenes were spoiled to me when I was younger because one of my friends loved that movie.

Made 4 character sketches.

Made 2 worldbuilding sketches.

Sketched, colored, and added some detail to a late kinktober prompt thing.

Began writing something.

Continued listening to Dracula. Up to 62% done.

So far so good! I spent a day just working on the comic, which I really needed. I plan to watch Ringu tonight and Ju-On tomorrow because I've gotten a lot of stuff done (for art and school). I use Focumon and I get little points and rewards (self-set) for doing my tasks. Fun stuff!

[siuilaruinofthegale]

AAAAAAAAAH!

I commissioned the wonderful, amazing @hellomisa to draw a scene from chapter 2 of red strings and lilac skies.

This is the scene after their spar, prior to Kakashi's inauguration, and she did SUCH an amazing job!! I'm so happy!!!!

[siuilaruinofthegale]

Salvage, transitive verb (sal’vij):

to rescue or save, especially from wreckage or ruin.

I have been wreckage, and I have been ruined, but the ashes of one disaster enriches the dirt for whatever grows next; the warped wood of a wrecked ship may become the fence posts for a beach-side garden, or the crumbled remnants of a building may become part of the bricks for a new building.

I will not pretend I take every calamity, every misspoken word and wrong action, with the grace that befits someone of my age and experience. I rarely manage to be graceful, or to be anything other than violently reactive to everything that crosses my path, be it good or bad.

But in the end, it is a comfort to remember that nothing is the end. I have salvaged myself from the debris of what I once was many times, and I have little doubt I will do it again. The wreckage that surrounds me shows what I have survived, and it beckons those who need a shelter from the world’s various storms, though I am no saint.

Can anything be salvaged?

[rwwinton]

You’ve never heard this Irish folk song go this hard, I guarantee it.

Upon Goole Translating the speaking portion, I have determined that is my favorite part:

History says not to have courage, On this side of the end stone. But once in a lifetime, the wild wave of justice rises to the horizon shining and history and hope marry. So look for the sea change, on the other side of revenge. Believe in the white shore, it is not far from us. Believe in the miracle, believe in the peace, believe in the well of healing, Believe.

[editoress]

Comfort Reads

All the best novels, in my experience, for feeling calm and cozy.  If you want to be soothed for a few hours, check these out; most are probably at your local library.  And feel free to reblog and add on your comfort reads!  I think we could all use a little comfort at the moment.

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison

A forgotten half-goblin prince unexpectedly becomes the emperor of the elflands.  No one is especially pleased about this, and everyone is baffled at the fact that the new most powerful figure in the empire is so kind and polite.  A book the wonderful effects of compassion on a cynical society.

His Majesty’s Dragon by Naomi Novik

Yes, it’s another book about dragon riders.  Yes, it’s my favorite.  The thing that Novik gets right, more than most other dragon-rider authors, is the amount of cuddling one should do with one’s dragon.  A book chock full of love and bonding.

A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin

The start of a beautiful series.  This is about Sparrowhawk’s beginnings as a wizard, including a grave mistake that haunts him across the archipelago of Earthsea.  The writing is understated and patiently paced, and there’s so much care for humanity in the characters.

Rose Daughter by Robin McKinley

A thoughtful approach to Beauty and the Beast.  Beauty gets really wonderful sisters for once, and she keeps them close to her heart as she untangles the mystery of the castle, her gentle captor, the greenhouse of dying roses she cares for, and her own family’s past.  This one’s all about love, courage, and perseverance.

Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

A lighthearted adventure.  Sophie is cursed and becomes an old woman, and the only way to fix it is to seek out the rumored heart-eating, tax-evading wizard called Howl.  Bright, witty, and loving.

The Girl from the Other Side (Siuil a Run) by Nagabe

A monster looks after a lost girl in the wilds.  This is a manga series, and the equivalent of eating a brownie fresh from the oven.  It’s sometimes creepy, but the core of the story is how much the monster and the girl care about and worry for each other.

Beauty and the Beast by Megan Kearney

Another retelling, this time as a graphic novel.  And you can read it free online!  The beast has lost himself; Beauty doesn’t see her own worth.  Timidly, sweetly, they come together despite their strange and complicated circumstances.

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

A neglected orphan comes to her uncle’s manor a stubborn, unhappy girl.  But she finds joy in reviving the neglected gardens, and slowly the whole dreary manor comes to life.  A story about how nothing is beyond saving if you’re willing to put some care into it.

Fairest by Gail Carson Levine

Aza believes she is ugly, and that her singing voice is the only good or interesting thing about her.  A royal plan and an unexpected adventure prove just how wrong she is.  A darling book with a fairy tale feel.

[arlenianchronicles]

Hello!!💖💖💖 Can I ask if you have voices for the Silmarillion characters or for your Oc's?:D Idk if you think about it this way, but I'm trying to always find voices for them, so I can imagine it while reading XD Thanks for your answer!!!💖💖💖

Hi there! <33 Hmm voices for the characters, that’s an interesting question! Tbh I haven’t thought of it deeply enough, so I don’t have a real-life model for each and every Silm character and my OCs, but I do have a few!

For Elured and Elurin, I imagine they sound like Aurora when they’re young, and most especially when they sing. The same goes for Elrond and Elros (since their uncles disappear early on in canon, so I just reuse the model loll). They’re good at harmonizing with each other, and all in all they sound quite heavenly :D

With Aurora in mind, I imagine that Maedros sounds like Einar Selvik from Wardruna (mostly for the singing loll). This is because Wardruna and Aurora once sang Helvegen together, and I used that as a base for when Maedros would sing with Elured and Elurin in my AU (and the same would again also go for Elrond and Elros).

Something about Maglor gives me Tom Hiddleston-voice vibes -- something low and soft when he’s speaking, but also strong and clear, and elegant (and Tom did sing in the fifth Tinkerbell movie, so ... yeah XDDD)

I also just got an idea for Luthien while writing this. Maria Franz is an absolutely captivating singer in Heilung (here’s some excerpts), and I imagine her voice would be a good starting point for Luthien’s <33 OR another good one is Celtic Woman (my favourite of hers is siuil a run)!

That’s all for voices, I think! As for my OCs, I do have some models for them (if they were to be cast for a movie, for example). Noah Schnapp for Aurelydan, Rohan Chand for Meza, Sadie Sink for Rune, and (possibly) Anna Taylor-Joy for young Lullia.

The rest of the voices are usually just made up in my head ^^;; It can be quite tough to find a real-life voice that fits how you imagine it! The same goes for face models for me hahaa

I hope this helped, anon!! Thank you for this fun question! <333

[elefseija]

.a song of winter.

Characters/Pairing: Barnaby Lee x F!MC Aisling Baskerville

Genre: proposal fluff

Rating/Warning: lightly descriptive and suggestive language - PLEASE notice characters in this fic are OF AGE. 

Word Count: 3500 (WHAT)

A/N: Probably the most self-indulgent piece I will ever write but, DAMN the idea was so great in my mind (less great once I wrote it down, but whatever :c). AND HERE I AM 8D I’m sorry if it will be too cheesy, or maybe more daring than usual, but there’s this side of their relationship that can be really interesting: I mean, they “speak” a lot physically. Ah yes, the title. All the metaphorical implications. WELCOME TO MY MIND 8D also, a little help from some songs I was listening to while I was writing: Canto d’Inverno (aka Winter Song) by Furor Gallico and Wintersaga by Wind Rose and La Caccia Morta (aka The Wild Hunt) by Furor Gallico again~ Last but not least, Siúil a Rún by Celtic Woman. Elef suggests: READ THIS FIC AS YOU LISTEN TO SIUIL A RUN. ALSO - I played a bit with the myths I quoted, they do not correspond to the real myth/legend! Although, truth to be told, these myths have so many versions my head hurts.

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☘️ ☘️ ☘️

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Late in the evening – Aisling’s fingers were lightly drumming on the wooden table, chin lazily resting on her left hand as her chief, quite an authoritarian and boring man, was reading for the third time her report. (The seat in that office was really, really uncomfortable. And the air was suffocating.) Her eyes lazily rested their annoyed gaze on the Daily Prophet copy lying on the corner of the desk. The date was December 21st . «And that is all, Miss Baskerville. You did everything you were requested to.» A blink of her eyes, she turned her head just a tad. A silent nod, a light smile lingering on her lips (out of mere courtesy). «You have been away for quite a long time, haven’t you? I cannot help but wonder why it took you so long.» She lightly shifted on her seat, hands now resting on her lap: was that a hint of suspicion in his voice? «Yes. It has been… quite a complicated mission.» A doubtful hum was his only reply – with a wave of his hand he dismissed her. (Just a cold glance.) With a twirl of her warm cloak, she was already closing the door behind her. (How deep was her sigh.) She just wanted to go back home, after months. Months spent working for the Ministry of Magic. Months spent working for a newborn Order of the Phoenix – only to come back with no news: maybe this was a blessing, yet she could not help but ask herself “when? When will the war start? When will this quietness end?”

The number of thin, white scars on her skin had increased – he would surely notice. “They suspect something,” was her only thought as she left the Ministry of Magic behind her – dark, heavy clouds above her, chilling air and the ever so light scent of snow stinging her nose. Just a look at the sky, she covered her head with the fur hood of her cloak. “I shall let them suffer a little more.” She kept walking without even looking back, nervously twisting her Claddagh ring around her finger once again. It was soothing – feeling the cold metal against her fingertips, the heart-shaped red garnet, and those little diamonds following the outline of the small crown. It made her think of home. Of who was waiting for her. She could feel her heartbeat already getting a bit faster and the familiar warmth on her cheeks. Miss Baskerville had been starting to sound quite an incomplete last name since a long time. (“… maybe… when this will be over…” – “… but it’s such a long wait…” - “…will we even get through this?”) A smile – most sincere. And she Disapparated. Where there was no Ministry of Magic and no Order of the Phoenix. Where the moon was high in the sky. (“Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slán.”)

---

Late in the evening – Barnaby’s steps were rushing on the wet cobblestones, as he wrapped his coat tighter around him, against the cold breeze (and the twirling snowflakes) – little clouds of condensation, his breath was ragged. He had been restless for hours, even days. Waiting for a certain someone to come back home. (Right in his arms where she belonged.) That “certain someone” was Aisling. (Free-spirited, wild Aisling.) He had missed her so much – from time to time his fingertips would gently trace those words she had written in her last letter: she was going to come back soon. (A date - he had counted the days until that morning.) In his mind he would repeat them as a soothing lullaby – he had almost learned each word by heart. (“Everything’s fine. Don’t worry about me, mo ghile mear. I miss you. I love you. Yours, Ash.”) He had worried for her so much. It could not be helped – no matter what, his thoughts would inevitably wander and go to her. (That morning, a hippogriff had even snorted at him, deeply offended by the lack of attention. Even nibbled at his arm – it still slightly hurt. And in the afternoon he had not even properly paid attention to Tonks rambling about her training and about her last mission.) Those written words were not enough, now. Tonks reassurances were not enough – not any other word from other members of the Order of the Phoenix. The bittersweet taste of longing. He knew. He knew oh so well they had both agreed joining the Order of the Phoenix. He knew this was the right choice – he was nothing like his parents. But sometimes he could only think nothing good would come from this. He feared he would lose her sooner or later – gentle, reckless Aisling. (Everything - to hold her a little tighter to his heart.) He glanced at his Claddagh ring – so lightly the garnet shone under the moonlight. And something took over him. A desire harbored since so long - perhaps he had just realized something he had always known deep in his heart. Perhaps he had found the courage to say simple, short words. (“… maybe… as soon as possible…”) That ring. He wanted to see the Claddagh ring on his left ring-finger. He wanted to see the Claddagh ring on Aisling’s left ring-finger. As long as they both would live. Baskerville-Lee had a beautiful, most lovely and sweet sound in his head. (“Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slán.”)

---

Not a light inside the cozy cottage, or any sign of her presence: there was just her luggage near the door, abandoned. And footprints out of the front porch, the start of a path leading to the forest near their house. A pair of small boots, probably. Barnaby shook is head, muffling an amused laugh – the door was soon closed once again, the cottage left in utter darkness. It was easy to track down Aisling – a good sign she wanted to be found quickly. Barnaby followed the footprints on the fresh snow - a soft, white cloak covering everything, snowflakes still falling as the dim moonlight illuminated the wintery scenario behind the clouds. All was quiet. All was still. Except for Barnaby’s steps, snow crunching under his feet and eyes focused on the ground. He picked his way through the frozen moss, avoiding every twig and stick, the few frozen leaves that still refused to leave the trees, the stinging pine trees. At first, he heard the solitary sound of a flute, not too far from him: a melody that sounded so familiar, like a lullaby. (“Siúil, siúil, siúil a Rún.”) He could hear Aisling’s touch and mind in those slow and sweet notes. He stopped looking at the footprints, head now lifting up as he followed the soft melody. And then, the melody came to a stop. Then, he could hear her voice – the soothing and chirping notes that sounded even more familiar, like the tender and alluring words. (“Siúil, siúil, siúil a Rún.”) There she was. The glen was almost shining, snow reflecting the moonlight in a delicate white shade. Snowflakes still dancing around them. Some were resting on her braided hair, glinting like stars in the nocturnal sky, some were on her shoulders, where her black cloak rested. (She would never describe herself as a nymph, but Barnaby could never explain in a different way the wild yet delicate beauty of the young woman in front of him.)

«Seems like you have finished your song.» The sound of another voice (much welcomed) startled her. Quickly, she stood up from the trunk she had been sitting on, and turned around, facing a laughing Barnaby. (His eyes. His eyes! She wanted to see them, how they would shine, reflecting the moonlight – to hear again his deep voice, his laugh.) «Ah, it wasn’t meant for you to hear it so soon!» The light blush on her pale skin (he could not see it, but he was sure it was there, painting her cheeks in lively colours), the embarrassed smile – she slipped the flute inside her bag. «It’s not fair. You have the tendency to hunt me down whenever I hide.» Her words hid an ever so soft chuckle. She left her hiding spot in the very same moment Barnaby walked over her. (She fought the instinct to just run to him.) «Since school, if I remember correctly.» Waltzing steps – Barnaby noticed footprints all around the trunk (she had probably been dancing too under the moonlight – so sad for him to miss such a wondrous sight!). «And you still have the tendency to just run and hide, leaving me alone.» He carefully stepped closer and closer. (She could and would run from him – like the fae she was.) Like a doe in front of a hound, she stepped back, circling him. Giggles followed – the ringing of bells, the chirping of birds. «I forgot it’s the first night of the Wild Hunt. I wanted to honour it.» Another careful glance at her: she looked… tired. Her messy braid, those dark circles under her eyes, even her voice would be lower than usual. One step closer. «That is so… Aisling-esque of you.» Yet, she was there. Right in front of him. Safe – smiling at him, searching for his touch, still playfully challenging him. (That spark in her gaze – that was everything he needed to know everything was okay.)

«Ah-ah. Not so fast!» Again she fled, but swift he came. Her fingertips were cold against his hand. His skin was warm enough to send a pleasant shudder as he wrapped his arms around her. «You are just like the High King Nuada of the Silver Hand. He is said to lead the Wild Hunt.» A twirl, she left the warmth of his embrace. «He sought his prey. But he’s kind and merciful.» She lightly fled on dancing feet, and left him lonely still to search for her, in the silent forest listening to her chirping chuckle. Like children. Like a young couple – wandering in the Hogwarts grounds late at night, not caring about anything.

«There’s a legend which says both Nuada and the Morrigan lead the Wild Hunt. They were husband and wife. They were both warriors» Burst of giggles, quick embraces and twirls – she would run, and he would follow. He would gently grab her wrist and try to trap her in his arms – she would just pirouette and walk away again. «And what happened to them?» Swiftly, he reached for as she (most mercifully) slowed her steps. «They reigned over the Tuatha de Danann for years. They pledged to fight for each other. To die for each other.» Her fingers were slowly searching for the warmth of Barnaby’s hand – he did not flinch (never did) and welcome this sweet ambush. (It felt right. It felt perfect.) «They both died, fighting side by side. The evil king Balor killed them.» His grip on her hand tightened on instinct. She saw it, his smile faltering as he lowered his gaze, glancing at her. That stirring feeling inside both of them – the fear of losing the other, in the storm that was about to come. They knew. Barnaby, in particular. He had already personally seen what could happen. «It’s a sad story indeed.» She turned her head just a tad, so she could stare up at his severe profile, outlined by the moonlight. «It may sound like this,» she gently left the warmth of his hand, and sneaked her arm around his waist, tightening her grip. (Her head resting on his shoulder.) «I think they both still enjoy running free in the green fields of Tir na nOg. And visit our world from time to time.» Silence. Home was right ahead, the path behind them was still enlightened by the moonlight. All of a sudden – Barnaby would stop, his arms wrapping around her shoulders, his head burying in her hair, breathing the delicate scent of rain and wood. A satisfied groan rumbling in his chest. «Well, they are not so different from us. I would fight for you.» Her hand rested against his chest, feeling the rhythmic beat of his heart. She hid against the crook of his neck – closed her eyes. «And I would do the same.» She did bite her lower lip, muffling a pleased giggle. (He clearly heard it – the merry sound from her lips. Irresistible and addicting.) «You know, Nuada would often dream of her, when they were not together.» His lips were already on hers, . Ever so softly. «‘Come to me,’ he always said.» Another kiss he stole from her – he bit her lower lip. (And smiled. Smiled! That silver-tongued rascal.) «And what did she do?» The lightest whimper – she ignored the shameful blush spreading on her cheeks. «And she always did.» The last words were just a mere whisper against Barnaby’s lips. He leaned once again; she closed her eyes as her arms wrapped around his neck. «I missed you, Aisling.» And then, finally, she halted. She dared not speak nor move (her knees were weak) – but the desperate grip on his shoulders was more than enough for him. «How long did you want to make me wait?» The hint of a tease in the softest growl of his voice – longing and desire lingering in his murmured words: Aisling hid her face against his chest, her amused laugh was now muffled by his tight embrace. He felt like home. «Hm. Enough to make you worry.» «Don’t do that again.» -clack- «I’m sorry.» Her cloak silently fell on the floor, now forgotten - the door closed behind them as they slipped inside their cottage. He lifted her with such ease – another burst of giggles. The warmth of his hands as they sneaked under her too big flannel shirt and wandered on her colder skin – an ever so light gasp. The warmth of his breath against her neck, and then the familiar sweetness of his lips – she closed her eyes. Her legs tightly wrapped around his waist – his hands eventually grasped her thighs. (A gasp against his lips, she rocked her hips against him – he could not help but smile.) The softness of blankets and a mattress welcomed her, as they both stumbled on their bed. It was good to be home.

There was something reassuring. In the darkness of their home, everything else was far, far away from them. It was just the two of them, in their warm embrace – everything else cast aside. It reminded them so much of their nocturnal encounters in the Room of Requirement - they did not need one, now. His figure hovering over her was so familiar – how many times in those oh-so-long weeks she had been dreaming of him, longing him, missing him. Aisling gasped as broad (most gentle) hands slid around her waist and pulled her against his chest once again. She splayed her fingers against his scalps. His legs framed hers, inner thighs pressed against her hips. Her stomach was flush against him. And his lips were on her. At first they nibbled at her bottom lip. Gently, yet which such strength that would leave her breathless. She could barely feel the mattress against her back, or the hand running through her hair – unknotting the braid with enviable mastery (such haste as he tugged on the beads), leaving her corvine locks wild and free. (A contented sigh escaped her lips at the sudden feeling.) His other hand was busy freeing Aisling from her boots – a soft thud and they were gone.

And those very hands were soon on her arms -firm his muscles as they tensed, preventing her from moving away-, tracing with their tickling touch the smooth skin from her shoulders to her own hands. (“And Morrigan put off her guise and stood a gentle maiden under Nuada’s gaze”.) Against her ear, the gentle tickle of his warm breath. And such sweet words (imagined, yet never heard) that sent pleasant shivers through her spine. (She unconsciously arched her back against him.) «Marry me, Aisling.» (Her imagination was nothing like reality.) So sincere. So unexpected. So longed for. So natural. So right. So perfect. And she was speechless. Her emerald eyes widened. She did not breathe. Was her heart even beating? Had it stopped already? His words stirred again those very thoughts she had been indulging in for so long – her heart surged with so much love. It was almost terrifying – how both of them could just feel so, so much. (“This is it. I will surely die of happiness right here and now.”) Aisling gasped and whimpered, Barnaby’s teeth tenderly nibbled at her lobe – her own hands trembled and strained against Barnaby’s tender grip. (She wanted so, so much to just touch him. Kiss him. Say -cry- “yes. I want to marry you”.) His lips travelled lower, meeting her neck, gaining a murmured -hushed- “Barnaby” (how he wanted to hear his own name again) – the lightest brush of his fingertips on her Claddagh ring. She barely noticed him taking it off, but she clearly felt him entwine their fingers once again, and the cold metal now on her left ring-finger, the pointy end of the little heart towards her fingertip (towards him). «Marry me,» he whispered again against her lips, forehead pressed against hers. Her grip on his shoulders was now tighter. «Marry me.» Her fingers now on his hair, desperately pulling at soft locks – his lips on her bare collarbone. She felt like her heart would just burst out of her chest. He could feel it – against his own erratic heart. «Not because I wish to possess you. But because I love you.» Where was her voice? Her chirping laugh? All her words were stuck in her throat. All she could do was just look at him. «I just want to keep being part of your world. To miss you when you are far from me and to welcome you when you come back. I just want to see your untamed hair unbraided and run my fingers through these soft locks. And hear your voice and your songs. Just see you whenever I can.» There was a strain in his voice – softly, it trembled. «I want to keep you safe.» His fingers were gently tracing the soft skin of her hips – those new scar, he had already found them (a quite unpleasant reminder of a particularly playful Devil’s Snare).

«I-… I know I’m saying this all of a sudden, I was not even planning to propose like this.» A weak (nervous) laugh against her chest, his head lifted, and his eyes were on hers. (Such strength and determination that made Aisling almost gasp.) «Ah, I’m sorry, you deserve so much more.» His hold on her waist was less and less tight. «But I don’t know if I can wait. If we can wait.» A deep sigh – his voice low. (“No, no, no. Don’t say that. DON’T.) They both closed their eyes, lingering on each other’s presence – the soft murmurs, the ragged breaths, soft skin against his fingertips and most gentle hands on her hips. «You know I’m worried. You know this peace can end anytime.» Doubts – she had none. Not anymore. He had just been quicker than her. Braver. (“Things won’t change. They will just be official.”) «And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.» She almost panicked – an irrational fear of seeing him just slipping away from her fingertips. The coldness that lingered now on her skin instead of Barnaby’s soothing grip was not pleasant at all.

«I promise, you’ll have a ring-...» A most sweet and loving chuckle – her own way to reassure him he did not have to fret. «I have no use for another ring.» And now she was the one pulling him against her – her fingertips tenderly tracing his lips, her own soft lips brushing against his, claiming them in a hungry kiss where the taste of salt lingered. Tears. His, hers – it did not matter. «I may be mine. But I belong to you too.» Her words were trembling – whispered so softly. So quickly, they escaped her lips – thinking was not an option now. And her own hands were now searching for Barnaby’s – the softest kiss on his palm and then on his Claddagh ring, she mirrored him as she took it off, only to slip It on his left ring-finger. (And his eyes widened in marvel. A most sincere and natural smile was now on his lips – against her murmured words. A choked sound trapped in her throat.) «So, yes. A thousand times yes.» Those tears of joy – Barnaby wiped each one of them as they streamed down her cheeks. «Marry me, Barnaby.» «Mo chroí.» He pressed his forehead against her shoulder – arms wrapping around her waist ever so tightly. And she could just bask in his warmth, hands running through his lock, lulling him against her. «My heart beats for you.» (“Siúil go doras agus ealaigh líom Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slán.”)

[anunderratedgforunderratedthings]

First post!

Hey there! So, first things first, a little introduction to my new blog:

This blog will be dedicated to all the underrated stuff that I would like to write and talk about. Basically, I made this blog to talk about some underrated fandoms (shows, games, mangas and/or books) that I think deserve more attention. I’ll mostly be blogging about:

-The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance

-Little Misfortune

-Afterparty

-The Girl From The Other Side (Siuil a run, Totsukuni no shoujo)

These will be the 4 main things I’ll be blogging about for now, so expect some blogs/reviews on these underrated gems soon!

[siuilaruinofthegale]

melodies (chapter 6)

i updated this yesterday and forgot to post about it. top tier me

-

melodies of the war-born (~112k words)

story summary:

Sakura wonders, sometimes, who she would be if things were different.

Perhaps, had she not run into that infuriating boy in the cemetery, she would be a civilian now. Perhaps, were she able to ignore an insult, she would not have pushed herself so far or so hard. But war carves hard lines in every soul, and peace tastes strange to a child raised in strife.

Same age AU where Sakura’s born into Kakashi’s generation. Things change just as much as they stay the same.

-

chapter 6 here (~19k words)

chapter summary/triggers:

Life happens, and for once it doesn't hurt.

Possible triggers: Anko and Kurenai being playfully rude to each other, people being dismissive of their own health, accidental streaking, kids being mean to Naruto, Hiruzen being himself. untagged ShiSaku and IruKaka. they’re not endpair and i don’t wanna get anyone too excited

[siuilaruinofthegale]

aight so I have Some Thoughts on this, please forgive me.

While I don't post about all my stories, I have a lot of them, both originals and fanworks. For most of them, I've done A LOT of world building. Some of those stories will never see the light of day, I'm sure, but they've all got worlds to live in if they do. And in every one of those stories, in every one of those worlds, I have considered The Inherent Horror of This Existence And Other Things and built it into them. I have considered how magic might be a threat to already marginalized people, how science can be mishandled to shove others around, and so on.

I'm not saying that to toot my horn and say I'm a master writer. I'm sure lots of other authors do the same thing, whether they realize it or not. And here is where I may be off base or entirely spaghetti brain... I think there are two kinds of writers who write in worlds where they haven't fully realized that inherent Horror Of Being within their stories: #1, people for whom horror and fear is an every day experience, not something occasional, and #2, those who are privileged enough not to live in horror and fear every day.

I know privilege is a loaded word, but I can't think of any other way to describe it.

Writer type #1 doesn't build horror into their stories and worlds because this is their escape, this is where they go when things are bad, and they want a place that's soft and sweet and SAFE. I have absolutely no quibbles with that, because I have my fair share of escape stories, even if I sit on them like a hen sits on petrified eggs. Sometimes, these writers even go to lengths to ensure that some of the inherent horror of being isn't possible in their world (i.e., magical consequences for certain actions).

Writer type #2 usually doesn't build those things into their worlds unless they're specifically trying, because they don't know how horrific life can be on a casual basis. I feel fairly safe saying J.K. R-wling is one of these, and if you've engaged in much HP-critical discourse at all, I think you know what I'm talking about. There's a lot of things in the Wizarding World (as written by her) that have some really horrific connotations if you follow them to their conclusion. My brain is blanking at the moment, so I can't think of anything super specific off the top of my head, but they're there. The WW largely resembles Victorian society, and if Victorian mores are applied... well. (feel free to add examples or thoughts)

Like I said, maybe I'm utterly off base, and full of it. Maybe I just build horror into my worlds because my brain is an ornery little devil, or because I have anxiety and everything is scary, but this is something that makes sense to me.

I’ve said this before but I think all sci-fi and fantasy adventure needs a little bit of horror as seasoning. It doesn’t need to be full sci-fi horror or fantasy horror but a little bit of scary adds flavor. Build a world and then explore the fucked up implications of that world a little bit

[an-author-and-his-books]

`*•.¸(`*•.¸(`*•.¸★¸.•*´)¸.•*´)¸.•*´ The Curious Tale of Gabrielle ¸.•*´(¸.•*´(¸.•*´★`*•.¸)`*•.¸)`*•.¸ "Refreshingly unique. I don't think I've ever read anything quite like this book." -Amazon reviewer- "On of the few books that I just didn't want to put down." -Amazon Reviewer- ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ →Kindle Link: https://www.amazon.com/Curious-Tale-Gabrielle-ebook/dp/B01BJ5FS06/ →Nook Link:http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-curious-tale-of-gabrielle-zachary-paul-chopchinski/1121445311?ean=2940153553979 →Ibook Link:https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-curious-tale-of-gabrielle/id1158738117?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4 The First Book in The Gabrielle Series, a YA Fantasy with Time-Travel and Paranormal Twists Steeped in Druid Lore! When Gabrielle moves to the small town of Envisage, she is drawn to a hidden antique shop and its mysterious owner. She's given a strange gift and suddenly finds herself in the middle of an epic battle between good and evil. Follow Gabrielle as she ventures through the lives of many with the experience of only her own. It’s a journey through history, life, and love unlike anything that could be imagined—except perhaps by a curious young girl. "intriguing and refreshingly original" -5 star review "fast paced/fast read gem of a book" -5 star review "One of the few books that I just didn't want to put down" -5 star review Keywords: paranormal, mystery, suspense, fantasy, magic, scotland, english ruled scotland, evil kings, teenage girl, ya, young adult, strong women, curiosity, celtic, druid, time travel, castles,lucht siuil, time traveler, battle between good and evil, →Kindle Link: https://www.amazon.com/Curious-Tale-Gabrielle-ebook/dp/B01BJ5FS06/ →Nook Link:http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-curious-tale-of-gabrielle-zachary-paul-chopchinski/1121445311?ean=2940153553979 →Ibook Link:https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-curious-tale-of-gabrielle/id1158738117?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4 #book #books #bowtieauthor #bookstagram #booklr #read #reading #writing #writersofinstagram #paranormal #celtic #druid #sale

[cometkins]

otp question meme

nobody ever sends me asks so i’m filling this out myself

it is all theo/shouri bc who else would it be

Who is the most affectionate?

I think they’re both pretty affectionate equally? Theo just tends to be more reserved/private about his than maybe Shouri. Shouri’s prob more comfortable outwardly showing affection. Theo will write epic poems about how much he adores Shouri though.

Big spoon/Little spoon?

Theo’s usually little spoon just bc he smol but Shouri delights in being little spoon sometimes too.

Most common argument?

Pre-Jericho it was probably just about chores or about the elders/leadership training. Post-Jericho they haven’t really argued much, but I imagine Auril will become a point of contention as time goes on.

Favorite non-sexual activity?

Sunbathing, probably. Just laying out in the grass together on a breezy day and soaking up the sunlight.

Who is most likely to carry the other?

Theo’s strength modifier is a -1 and Shouri probably has a +5 w/ proficiency at least soooo. Shouri is probably the only one doing any form of carrying any time soon here. I would say pre-Jericho Theo def carried Shouri around plenty though.

What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

Theo adores Shouri’s eyes, and following that probably his curly mess of hair. Shouri would die for Theo’s freckles (and also his butt is cute).

What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Shouri was just crushing from afar, so he didn’t do much aside from stare at Theo a lot (and maybe follow him around a bit from a distance). He’d probably just get blushy and his heart would beat faster any time he saw him. Theo basically slammed into things like a train, but he would get pretty bashful when Shouri initiated affection for the first while they were together.

Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

‘Ma Vhenan’ is the elvish word for ‘heart’ and is a general term of endearment. They use ‘Emma lath’ sometimes which means ‘my love’. Specific ones, Shouri calls Theo ‘da’ean’ which means ‘little bird’. Theo calls Shouri ‘da’adhal’ which means ‘little tree’. Theo calls Shouri little tree bc his hair reminds him of tree roots. Little bird was a name Eli came up w/ so I could not say why Shouri picked it.

Who worries the most?

In the past? Probably Shouri. He’s a big fretter. He still is, but now Theo’s a constant paranoid worrier.

Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

There aren’t really restaurants in the canon universe that they’d go to, but Theo remembers all of Shouri’s favorite foods (because he likes seeing that dumb happy look on his face when he eats them).

Who tops?

99% of the time it’s Shouri, but once in a blue moon Theo has a turn.

Who initiates kisses?

It’s mostly been Theo; Theo adores kisses.

Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

Theo. He also adores holding hands.

Who kisses the hardest?

Theo agaaaaaaain bc he loves kissing.

Who wakes up first?

Before the fight w/ Jericho Theo had been waking up first just bc he couldn’t sleep. Otherwise it would prob be Shouri first.

Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Theooooooo. He hasn’t slept for 60 years and has a lot of catching up to do.

Who says I love you first?

Theo. He says it like day 1 and Shouri doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

In canon universe, it would be Shouri (and it would prob be little notes about doing his best for the day). In modern AU it’s Theo, since he stays home (and they’re all sexts).

Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

Shouri tells Theo’s family first; he initially wanted to keep it secret since Theo was popular in his clan, but they had no choice when Theo broke his arm showing off for Shouri.

What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

They all love it. A lot of Theo’s friends at the time didn’t like Shouri much bc they thought he was ugly and awkward. Theo ended up not spending much time w/ anybody outside his family and Shouri after the fact.

Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

Shouri. He’s a big goofball and he loves those kinds of things.

Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

Shouri probably cooked the most just bc he was home more and Theo had clan duties to tend to. By virtue of more practice he was probably better at it, but the things Theo made weren’t inedible or anything.

Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

Probably Shouri since he’s the bigger dork.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Yes hello his name is Theo Lavellan and he’s the worst.

Who needs more assurance?

In the past it was probably Shouri, since he got bullied a lot. Now it’s probably Theo.

What would be their theme song?

The 2016 version of Siuil a Run by Celtic Woman

Who would sing to their child back to sleep?

Theo. He’s actually a good singer, and he sometimes sang lullabies for Shouri. He'd do it for their kids too.

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Idk what goes through Shouri’s head currently, but in the past he’d just be kind of sad until Theo got home. Theo probably just daydreamed of quiet moments he hoped they could have in the past, and currently he kind of just. Quietly agonizes until they can be together again. Being away from Shouri now causes him a lot of distress and he feels very lonely.

[ajbrooks-writes]

3, 24, 25 for the ask game? :)

Heya! Thanks for the ask! This is referring to THIS writing ask game.

For my main project, For The Crown.

3) Which 3+ songs would make up a playlist for your novel?

I actually have a crazy eclectic playlist for my novel. Everything from Imagine Dragons to the Outlander soundtrack to Muse. If I just chose a few they’d be...

   - Who We Are - Imagine Dragons

   - Dance of the Druids - Bear McCreary for the Outlander soundtrack

   - Lord of the Dance - Ronan Hardiman (mostly for Joal and Orrian)

   - Feeling Good - Muse (my book has a romance plot, after all, so this is for Ryn and Elthian)

   - Siuil A Ruin - Lisa Kelly (mostly for Skye. It means ‘Walk My Love’)

24) Which character is most like you? Least like you?

Most like me? One of my main characters, Elthian. Amusing since he upgraded himself after about a third of the way through draft one. Elthian, El to his friends, is chill, compassionate, innately strong, a bit naive, honest (usually) and very loyal. He’s confident, respectful, intuitive, a pretty sensitive extrovert like me, avoids violence, but goddamn if you hurt someone he loves he will fight. He inspires me to be better and I’ve learnt a lot from him.

Least like me... tricky because I see myself in every character to a point. I guess Parthian, Elthian and Orrian’s father and the King of Mantha. Parthian is strong, and under that steel facade he loves his sons (a bit), but his decisions are fear based and often reactive. He has a lot of past trauma and has always been isolated. He was raised to see women as objects and love as weakness. I can pity him, even sypathise, but he hurts people for personal gain which is not okay.

25) Which character would you most like to be?

I would most like to be Kalen, with Ryn a close second. Kalen, or K, has a really rough past, but has grown from it and come out stronger. He is sensitive, observant, charismatic, expressive, fiercely loyal to his friends and protective of them. Kalen plays the flute, often in duet with Skye on violin. He hates violence, and is pretty soft. He’s aromantic, which he used to be nervous about but has now fully embraced, and has the most amazing, intimate platonic relationships with Ryn and especially Skye. K gets along well with almost everyone, and gives awesome bear hugs and the biggest, best smile.

Thanks for the ask! I had a lot of fun answering. I’m gonna go grin like an idiot and imagine myself meeting Kalen.

[siuilaruinofthegale]

i submit, as additional bullet points:

- staring off into the distance while you try to figure out That One Line. onlookers worry for you.

- making every facial expression you write and going through an entire spectrum of emotions in 20 minutes. onlookers think you possessed. whoops.

- wait what do you mean i need to stop and eat

writing is

listening to the same song over and over and over because its the only thing that can help you concentrate

writing continuously for fifteen minutes then stopping in the middle of a sentence and just staring at the screen because you forgot what you were going to say

pacing around the room because a sentence doesn't sound right and it won't leave you alone

posture slowly getting worse and worse as time goes on

finally hitting your stride only to be called to help with something

waking up in the middle of the night because a really good one liner just popped into your head (then never using that one liner. ever. or creating a fic JUST to use the line)

reading what you wrote aloud to your dog for his opinion

typos upon typos upon typos. oh and also commas

squinting at the screen bc you lost your glasses again but are to stubborn to not write