#snippets of eventide

[ghostcicadas]

hi i wrote something. this is the beginning of a prequel short story for the eventide reaper, to get me back into the mood of the story.

During Maurice Belmont’s high school years, he had always thought Julian Henning—mockingly nicknamed Jules by the most heteronormative boys at school—was kind of a prick. But, knowing first-hand how insufferable the dudebros of his third-year class were, he decided he could justifiably see himself in Jules’ company for the next two years. The pool for potential friends was meager in a school of hardly a thousand students, most of them being the type of boring Maurice couldn’t stand to share oxygen with. And if he thought about it, Jules had something pretty rare for a rich, pretentious academic—a passion for storytelling.

[galaxicalswriting]

“It’s okay.. There’s a reason creatures turn to darkness when the light fails them.”

“Because there’s no one else to turn to?”

“And because we understand.”

[wundrousarts]

Do you think Hawthorne has some sort of connection to Morrigans's wundrous song? I'm not going off on a lot except that the song talks about a son of the morning and that Hawthorne feels like the definition of sunshine. And the fact that Morrigan is an eventide kid and she has something with darkness. (??)

Idk what the song could mean, but maybe it's like a foreshadowing to their dynamic, maybe they'll become enemies or opposites or like kids with a destiny because so far it feels like they're far too buddy buddy. Hawthorne is Morrigan's first friend. And he's her best friend. Like. Help.

Also the song talks about the son of the morning being liked, or well someone who has something good ahead of him, and that reminds me of Hawthorne's promising career in dragon riding. He has a lot ahead of him, and in that snippet of Holliday Wu with Hawthorne she said 'the kids are gonna love him', and I feel like Hawthorne is gonna be super popular and well-liked. (Like maybe that's what the song means with 'up with the sun where the winds are warming', he climbs the social ladder.) Meanwhile Morrigan seems to become more and more unpopular because she's a wundersmith. Like it doesn't matter who Morrigan is, it just matters that she's a wundersmith. And soon she'll go down to where the pale things bite or something. As in she'll be an outcast. Or worse.

But if that's the case, then what could it mean??? What will it lead to?

Can we then connect the two wundrous songs of Morrigan's and Squall's? If Morrigans's song is foreshadowing then what if Squall's song is a warning? Or another foreshadowing? A foreshadowing to what then? Is it a prophecy? Are both prophecies??

Help.

🫠

Oooh this is a great question. I don't think that Morrigan and Hawthorne will find themselves not being friends at any point, because I feel like they've already gone through a lot together and have had each other's backs, so I can't see that ending at any point.

I do love any opportunity to discuss the Nocturne songs though!!

I'm hiding my ramblings on this below the cut, because as a true "spaghetti theorist", I am truly just throwing everything and anything at the wall:

One thing I wonder is if the Morningtide nursery rhyme is derived from Little Crowling, or if both songs are derived from a third same source, or if perhaps they are two songs that existed at the same time. Why does Squall seem to recognize Morrigan's song, and Mog recognize Squall's song?! It haunts me. I wish Wundersmith was adapted so maybe we could hear both songs (because hopefully Little Crowling will be in the movie...?). Maybe as Mog trains with Squall we might learn more!

On Discord awhile ago, I said

they’re not like 1:1 but like “o daughter of night” and “with button black eyes” have the same # of syllables (and are possibly depicting the same thing/idea), and “swoops down into the meadow where the rabbits all hide” and “deep down below where the pale things bite” are similar ideas and maybe even an inversion a bit

and I really think there's something there. Maybe it's playing with who/what is "good" vs "evil"? IDK.

In one of the Garrett interviews (which are my favorite Nevermoor/Jessica Townsend interviews everrrr), there's this bit:

ASTRID: Jessica, back to Ezra Squall. When a Wundersmith calls Wunder they sing something. They sing a tune that means something to them, and we know that Ezra Squall's tune involves the words ‘little crowling, little crowling’. Look, Morrigan Crow. Crow Manor. My question here is obvious. What can you tell me? JESSICA: Actually, I can't tell you anything… but that should give you your answer. ASTRID: Look, I had to try. JESSICA: I can tell you that's a really good intelligent question and it's a good observation. Don't worry, there will be satisfaction there. All I can tell you is that there will be satisfaction.

I hope we learn more about Nocturne songs at some point, because I wonder if Little Crowling has been Squall’s song the whole time, or if it’s a new thing? He calls Mog “little crowling” a few times, so yes there’s definitely a connection there.

You sent this question at a great time because I had asked a question about Nocturne songs during the Q&A and she answered it after you sent this. I asked if there was any reason the Nocturne songs sound similar, or if I was reaching, and (in short) she said:

This is a really good question. I think they probably sound similar because they're both intended to be nursery rhymes. I wrote them as to be nursery rhymes in this world, in Nevermoor. I think you should think about the fact that they both chose nursery rhymes as their songs to call Wunder.

I have many thoughts, but at the same time, it’s so hard to theorize when there’s no info to go off of. I hope we learn more of the verses of Little Crowling at some point— I don’t care if the last verse is too grim to end up in a book!

Some ideas:

— Do Wundersmiths write their own songs? Is this perhaps how Nocturne is mastered?

— Maybe choosing nursery rhymes to summon Wunder could indicate something about their personal relationships with gathering and using Wunder?

—— Are they above Wunder, or below it? Not sure if that's the right wording, but just trying to think about what the dynamic between Wunder and Wundersmith for both Squall and Mog could be.

——— While writing this point I misremembered for a moment and wrote "Summoner and Smith", for which the full phrase is, "Summoned Wunder shows itself to summoner and smith." Are "summoner and smith" both the same person or entity (such as a Wundersmith), as "once it's summoned, any old Wundersmith can see it," or are there people out there that can be a summoner but not a smith, etc.? IDK.

— Maybe Little Crowling is a song encouraging Mog to be evil? We don’t know how long Squall has been keeping tabs on Mog.

— Lots of discussion lately about that one dream and if it could relate to Mog’s mom:

—— Maybe she was singing a song and then Squall sung Little Crowling afterwards

—— Maybe Mog’s mom was singing a happier version of Little Crowling, or it’s a song that Squall twisted.

——— Unrelated: everyone thinks that Mog’s mom must have been nice and caring… imagine if she wasn’t really that kind, LOL

—— I think it would be interesting if Mog’s mom was singing Little Crowling (or a variation of it) because of a reference to a rabbit… perhaps inspired by a certain toy rabbit passed down from mother to daughter? And again the obvious “crowling” and a baby (Morrigan) Crow… 🤔🧐🤨

— Perhaps Little Crowling is an older (anti-?) Wundersmith song. Squall was part of the last generation of Wundersmiths so maybe when he was young people were getting tired of them and the system they are a part of.

—— The “button black eyes” just makes me 🤔 because so far the only two Wundersmiths we know notably have black eyes…

— Also back to rabbits having to stay with their mother to be safe from the crowling… y’know who doesn’t have a mother?? Both Mog and Squall!!

Anyways. I really just took a sliver of your ask and ran with it, lol. We don’t know much about Nocturne songs, especially these particular ones, and I hope we learn more soon. Perhaps by training with Squall, Mog might be able to learn more? More verses and more history and information? I certainly hope so!!

I also have to take a moment to shoutout u/AlexWigg on Reddit, who made these renditions of Morningtide's Child and Little Crowling that I really enjoy.

[bloomingdarkgarden]

A preview / snippet of the 10 Chapter Elucien story I have in the works, I’ll be releasing the first chapter later this week on AO3 for @elucienweekofficial

“What are you doing?” Lucien asked, his voice so soft it was nearly inaudible. Impossibly, hopelessly soft. The sort of softness she had never heard before from him. The whisper of the sound danced down her spine.

Elain’s fingers continued the featherlight trace up the high edge of his cheek as she touched him, truly touched him, for the first time.

Beautiful.

He was beautiful.

And Elain had never truly allowed herself to look, to admire that beauty.

Let alone reach out and touch it.

He was looking at her now, like she was a religion, like she was a dream. And perhaps she was. But something in her wanted to keep that light burning in his gaze, instead of watching it dim with devastation.

So Elain found her courage, and for once spoke true to him.

“It’s just-” she murmured, chestnut eyes meeting his without pause, “it’s just that you are rather beautiful.”

Lucien’s gaze tightened just slightly at her words. Something like wonder, like disbelief, tracing the russet.

He huffed a soft noise, shaking his head.

“Whatever is amusing?” Elain tilted her head at him curiously.

Lucien’s eyes lowered for a moment, unable to meet her stare. He swallowed slowly.

“The most bewitching female in Prythian saying such a thing about myself.”

“Is it so impossible?” she asked, her hand now tracing the shell of his perfectly pointed ear.

It was quiet for a moment then as his eyes shuttered closed.

“No more so than feeling your skin against mine.”

Elain’s heart stopped beating and she took the opportunity to trace her thumb from his cheek down to the curve of his soft lips. He didn’t seem to be breathing.

“If this is a dream,” he said quietly, “it is a rather cruel one.”

Elain’s features drew as the words speared into her heart.

“It’s not a dream, Lucien.” she said softly.

Lucien could not bring his gaze back to hers. She wasn’t sure he had a pulse.

“Say it again.” he murmured. “So that I might believe you.”

Elain did not hesitate.

“It is not a dream, Lucien.” she repeated, even more gently this time.

Ever so slowly, Lucien leaned his head downwards, resting it against her own, his eyes remaining closed.

The cool kiss of twilight’s breeze danced between them.

“Just stay,” he whispered, to the wind, to the summer night, to the dying sun, blazing in the distance.

“Just stay a moment longer.” His voice was softer than the breath of violet clouds above.

How could such a soft sound come from such a sharp, clever mouth, she wondered.

And the bond between them, which had been wrecked and abandoned for so very long, glimmered like a lost light, like a lost flicker of hope in the darkest night.

Elain’s hands slid to the base of his neck and she gripped him as if the world was shattering around them. And perhaps it was.

“Lucien.” she whispered in wonder, as they sat in the meadow, foreheads leaning against one another, sharing the same sacred air. “What is this?”

The bond was teeming with something, with energy, with possibility, with chance.

He was still hardly breathing, unmoving beneath her hands.

“I don’t know-” he murmured back. “- I don’t know, Elain,”

Lucien rose his eyes to meet hers again then, and a world of longing that he worked so very hard to mask for months, for years, was all there, lingering on his beautiful face.

“But I would have waited a thousand years to feel your touch.”

Elain felt her heart start beating again and she looked to him.

Beneath that sea of yearning, of fear and desire shimmering in his features, was something more- another word she had never seen before.

A word glowing like a lost beacon in the darkest eventide.

And that word whispered-

Hope.

[krsnaradhika]

Hello hi- this is a snippet or a chapter from a book I took back and will never write again.

I suck at angst so buckle up. Do not throw tomatoes just in case. I do not remember if I've posted this one before here. The writing is old and rusty and I did not care to edit so pardon me. Maybe I'll take it back or edit, maybe not.

All rights reserved.

Strength Embodied

His father securely swathed him in his turmeric yellow raiment, looking so very proud and practically glimmering with all his manly charm. Little Pradyumna giggled, reaching out for the slight stubble on Kanha's cheeks as the duo revelled in the company of each other.

A little time before, the new father had scooped his son from the cot, squarely darting in his shared chamber with Rukmini where their son laid, besieged in silk cushions and duvets that came from different parts of the subcontinent. To them, he appeared like the silvery beam of the lunar god who had just added beauty to the welkin doused in minuscule, scintillating stars. Their life had been just like the pulchritudinous eventide, and Pradyumna had added to the beauty of it.

And then, as surely not expected with a juvenile parent, the first scion of the newest generation let out a joyous chortle at the sight of his father; his eyes fluttering open at the momentum.

"My little Dyumna, aren't you my spitting image? I knew my son would inherit my handsomeness!" Kanha chuckled, gently patting his son who looked far from sleep by now, his almond eyes staring right back at his father with an unspoken mischief. Of course I am, and I did. Watch as I steal your woman too, Pitashree.

"My boy, you have stolen my woman." Kanha accentuated, rolling his eyes playfully as the duo turned to the new mother who seemed to have been in a mien, an empyrean smile flickering across her fair countenance. With her slender arms crossed over her bosom, Rukmini leaned against the threshold as the handmaidens were dismissed.

"See, Pradyumna, now your mother is going to run after both of us with a stick. I told you right, you ought to sleep!" He further whisper-yelled, a dramatic edge to his tone as his wife shook her head in a half-vexed half-mirthful usance, sauntering towards them.

Just as Rukmini reached out for her consort's ears, he ducked his head and performed a little sprint, though with their son now closely paying an audience to their capers as the queen gasped.

"Pranesha, careful! He's too fragile!"

Ramaa rose from her seat, and almost followed the fading apparitions of her husband and son, which now seemed to have been mocking her. Startled, her doe eyes traced the thin air, gaping, as epiphany dawned a little harsher than called for.

At the portal decked in cramoisy curtains, lingered Keshava, that bull among men with a blank look to his morose irises. His shoulders dropped a notch further if it was even possible, and she winced at the tension tardily making its way between them. Rukmini's breath hitched as she parted her lips, wishing a coherent word to be made out by her own self but was left appalled.

Several minutes passed, and neither of them made a movement. Long gone was even the eye-contact, and the hush roared like a forest fire, smoldering everything to stygian smokes, the dying embers of which charred their souls.

"Welcome back," she finally said, a vulnerability to her voice if not the tears that had long relinquished her. Through the curtain of his lashes, Kamalanayana saw a ghost of a smile casting itself on Padmavadanaa's unearthly visage, a strain to her features which spoke of her postnatal stage, a slight chuberic touch to her frame perceptible. Rukmini hadn't lost her Kanya status, she was still the woman blessed with amaranthine youth, but the signs of a grown queen and mother had graced her.

Then, casting the little memory of their son aside, the weaving which was a mindless gift to him because the winters were looming overhead. He'd catch a cold otherwise, innit? Who would wrap it around him and sing him to sleep?

Or had Nidra Devi been as ruthless to him too, as she had been to his ill-starred parents?

He's not gone, Rukku, he will come back.

Just not now.

Rukmini clasped Kanha's hand in hers as his head shot up to her again, from her lotus feet that were imprinted in his heart - the very place where his Shri resided. "Come," she ushered again, warmth sparking in their touch as she settled on the swing and he followed the suit, with more heaviness, as if his limbs had refused to heed his commands.

"Tell me, don't bottle anything up," she tenderly coaxed, running a hand through his forehead, the sheen of sweat settling on it as if pearls dancing to the tunes of oceanic waves. "Have you been nice to yourself, love?"

A gulp cascaded down from his throat, an ache birthing in it as if someone had wrapped their vicious claws around it. Through the blur of his eyes, Madhava tensed his wobbling lips between his teeth and shook his head in denial. Her heart broke a little more.

The despondency in his eyes had never lingered before for so long. Not when he had left his loved ones beside to put an end to his own uncle, and neither when his own people had thrown baseless accusations at him.

"I couldn't...I couldn't be a good father again." He wasn't even pretending to be fine before her, and as much as heartbreaking it was, she appreciated it. The armour of a de-facto king faded in thin air and it was just a father and a husband sitting beside, the man with just the picture-perfect family, the reality of which was shattered by the whims of destiny.

History repeats itself. Krishna had, of course, been mindful of the fact but never had he ever expected that to come at him this way. Yes, being the lord of the world came with clairvoyant abilities but no, emotional hurt could not be gauged before it occurred. Physical pain always was extravagant when premeditated, but its emotional counterpart came as an understatement when spoken of.

Rukmini envisaged that experiencing too many emotions at once and nothing at all the very next moment would render her numb to them but that just didn't seem to be the case. His words reverberated in her ears like a heart wrenching bellow in the carcass of bygone monuments that only deepened their fissures.

Could not be a good father. Could not be a good father. Could not be a good father.

Not as Ramachandra.

His Sitae retreated with their children in her womb to a jungle, rājadharma demanded such sacrifices. Raghava's eyes had never known euphoria after that, but surely his subjects did.

Not as Krishnachandra either.

Rukmini would still set up the cot of their firstborn who was taken away from them. She was the strength embodied behind the silver-tongued kingmaker whose duty was righteousness's establishment. Their son was to put an end to a despot, just like his father.

Krishna's hands casted away the crown proudly donned by his glorious head and raked through his scalps; his curls bouncing with the howling winds. It was all eerily lifeless and yet suffocatingly tumultuous, much like his eyes that poured elixir but now were red rimmed. Every passing moment came as a threatening knell to her, and she awaited the words that were sitting on his tongue.

He smeared his mildly calloused hands over his features and sighed, a shudder in every breath that was dragged in his lungs, "I am sorry Svamini, I- I don't even know what I can do-"

"Hey, it's going to be fine."

She smiled, at least she tried to. Her husband sunk his teeth to his lower lip again and sighed, blinking away the pooling hot tears in his lotus eyes that stung them maliciously. He abhorred the feeling, it gradually immiserated him like nothing else. "He will come back to us. Just a little time, Natha." Rukmini couldn't tell if she was comforting herself or him, murmuring the same words he was from the last few months.

His throat hurt from holding in the urge to thunder like the clouds that were hovering over Mokshapuri, the storms did not seem eldritch anymore. "The pain goes away?" His voice held a hoarse edge as he glanced at her from the corner of her eyes.

Vaidarbhi pursed her lips, her nimble fingers tracing the brocade on the silk as a fresh set of tears raced down her cheeks, unpleasantly scorching to the skin, "No, you just make room for it."

[jaeellec]

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Formerly apirateslifeforbudgie

Welcome! You've had the misfortune of stumbling upon my blog, but may as well linger while you're here!

My ask box and messages are always open! I don't mind chit chat about common interests or OCs, just be sure to keep things kind!

Commissions are currently open! I need to make another comm post, but feel free to message me in the meantime! I offer character art ranging from simple busts to full design sheets, Log Collection covers, Wattpad covers, wanted posters, devil fruit design, Hanafuda cards, fake screenshots, so on and so forth. And I have a graphic design background, so I can do logos too! Whatever you need, I'm your girl~

I've got all the basic bases covered above, but *Starship Troopers voice* would you like to know more?

I go by Jaeelle! At least on the internet I do. This is a One Piece blog that I made for the sole purpose of posting my fanart and fanfiction with JJK content showing up from time to time. You will also see my OCs often - especially my main character - I've had most of them for a very long time and they are a major part of me. Currently, they are in the world of One Piece while a handful are also in JJK at the moment. I will talk more of my fics a little further down!

As much as I love One Piece (despite trashing it for years and years please forgive me), it is not my only interest! I am very much into plenty of other anime (literally too many to name), video games (ranging all the way from Stardew Valley to the SoulsBorne games. Monster Hunter World, The Witcher 3, Skyrim and Fallout 3 are personal favorites), horror movies, TV shows (GOT/HOTD, The Boys, Love Death & Robots, Yellowjackets, Spartacus), comic books (I used to own a comic shop!), music, and dragons! I love, love, love dragons.

Clearly, I am very much into many fantasy tales of all medium. If there's anything to know about me, it's that I love deep-diving into lore and background for characters and worlds alike, and I hope that presents itself in my writing. And speaking of...

As I mentioned, my characters are currently in the worlds of One Piece and JJK. While I have written or posted nothing for JJK (and am unsure if I will), below is how the One Piece story has shaped itself!

ONE PIECE: WANDERING STAR - (In Progress/Unpublished for now) This is the main story! It focuses on the Captain Trio and is led by my main character, as this is her story - the classic One Piece tale of reclaiming a kingdom but take it a little darker. Lots of revenge, so much beheading, but a little wonder and romance sweetens the adventure.

If you would like to sample some snippets from the story to see if you're into it, check them out here.

There is also a playlist I made for the series here!

BLACK STAR - (Not Started/Not Posted) If Wandering Star is dark, then this prequel story of Carmen's time in Eventide is downright gritty. Glimpses will be given in WS, but this is the brutal uncut tale, and it takes place roughly around the events of Sabaody and the Summit War.

DAMN THE STARS - (Select Scenes/Not Posted) This is Wandering Star's sequel! It's a Kid Pirate story that runs parallel to the in-anime events ranging from just before Punk Hazard to the start of Wano. Still undecided how far I wanna take the mature content in this one.

There are also anime inserts to be written for my main character! While there are some earlier mentions, her first "official" in-anime appearance would start at episode 603 and (as of today) end at episode 1112. But I'm sure there will be more to come!

That should be a good start! Enjoy your adventure!

[maple-writes]

No.5: Bad End

This uh... This was something I wrote last night 

##

Not even the light of the full moon penetrated the forest canopy. Not even the rustle of the sea breeze in the pine drowned out his breath, sharp, rasping, desperate as he ran. Ran. Ran away from me. Me. My legs flew across the pine-needle ridden ground, fast, faster. I was getting close. I could hear him. I could hear him. Hear him. He was tiring. Soon. It was only a matter of time.

He cried out as his foot snagged under a gnarled root. His body fell. A thud and he rolled across the dirt and rocks and fallen needles. Fear flowed off him, cloudy. Like steam from a doused fire.

I stood over him, a grin spreading sharp across my face. Claws curled at my sides. Shadows drew nearer, pulled like light towards a black hole. Towards me. Grasses, shrubs, insects, they died at my feet, grey and brown and lifeless. And so too would he. So too. He knew it. oh he knew it too, didn’t he?

He scuttled backwards, shaking, trembling, scared. “P-please. Leave me alone!”

I dropped to a crouch, looming, leaning. Fear, terror, desperation poured from his skin, straight through the air and dying deep within the marrow of my bones. Past the fast-paced emotion, past the skin, past the bone, past the muscles, his soul waited. Sitting just within his ribs, it flared and pushed against it’s limits.

He thought he was going to die. He thought I was going to kill him. He thought this was the end. He thought. He thought.

I shot forward, slamming my hands against his shoulders. I held him against the damp cold ground. Fear raced cold and sharp through the palms of my hands. Through my skin, spiking my blood and coursing through me. My heartbeat drowned out his cries, fast, loud, in my ears. Fast, faster. He wasn’t going anywhere. No.

A clawed hand dragged across his chest, feeling, testing. Testing the edges, finding the weakest spot. Testing, until.

My hand snagged on the edge of his soul.

I tore it through the wall of his ribs into the cage of my fingers. The skin burned. He went limp, staring on the ground. My hands burned. I snarled, opened my mouth and crunched. His soul broke between my teeth. My mouth burned. It burned. It burned. My jaws fell open. What was left drifted away. Like mist. It drifted away, floating, disappearing like the mist on a morning lake.

The body lay still breathing. Still staring. There was nothing. Nothing anymore. A hole in the life that ebbed through the forest. A hole. Nothing. Nothing.

No foxes would scavenge the body. No birds would pick at the corpse. No insects would feed on the flesh. Here it would remain. Perfect, untouched. For so much longer than what was right. Then what was natural. Only the bacteria, the fungi, the plants which cared not for the state of it’s host would lay their claims on what lay here tonight.

[vellichor-virgo]

absinthe (makes the heart grow fonder)

blew off my schoolwork to write yet another fun little night's daughter snippet that doesn't fit into canon. inspired by the song “absinthe” by idkhow.

tw/cw: alcohol, sexual innuendos, and a smidge of romance

“If anyone asks,” Aedan says as Pollux passes the alcohol into his hand, “I’ve suddenly taken ill and retired for the night.”

“From Alcott’s lofty claims—” Iliana gestures with her chin toward the bottle, “—that may end up being true before night’s end.”

We’re sitting in a circle on the dining room floor, all dressed to the nines for the ball that we can faintly hear through the stone walls. It’s not yet midnight, but all of us have given up on the event. The night has been extraordinarily boring, even by my standards, so when Pollux cornered each of us in turn with a wicked grin and a bottle of spirits “strong enough to make you see stars”, it didn’t take much convincing for us to follow him and leave the ballroom behind.

Now, in a room lit by the flickering glow of a single lantern, we watch Aedan put the bottle to his lips. He grimaces, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before passing it on. “I think Iliana may be on to something.”

It’s Maia’s turn next. The first sip makes her cough; she nearly spills the alcohol down the front of her soft pink gown. “Gods above,” she splutters, hastily shoving the bottle in Iliana’s direction. “Where the hell did you get this from, Poll?”

Pollux’s mouth curves into his trademark smirk, brimming with mischief. “I made a new friend. Some emissary’s son. He was… very generous.”

Iliana takes a delicate sip and winces, but manages not to cough. Then she arches a brow at Pollux, pointedly eyeing his mussed hair and his shirt, unbuttoned to his chest. “Easily convinced, more likely.”

Pollux’s grin widens. His face is flushed, and there’s a hazy gleam in his eyes. I wonder just how much of the bottle he sampled on his own before he tracked us down. “It’s not my fault I’m as charming as I am handsome.”

“Harlot,” Maia mutters, drawing a laugh from me.

Pollux jabs a finger toward me. “You, Lady Celena, are not in a position to mock me.” He points between Iliana and me. “Did you think nobody noticed that mark on your neck? The one that happens to be the exact shade of red Ashstone paints her lips?”

My hand flies to my neck. Maia and Aedan both start to laugh. When I peek at Iliana’s face, I see that she’s trying not to smile.

“Did you know?” I ask her.

She holds her hands up in surrender. “I didn’t notice. Honestly.”

“And here I thought you were a good liar.”

Her smile breaks free, spreading across her crimson mouth. “The colour suits you, Lena.”

Blushing, I take the bottle from her hands and lift it to my mouth. The bitter herbal taste hits me before the burn does, fierce enough to make my eyes water. Warmth pools in the pit of my stomach.

“At least I wasn’t trading kisses for terrible liquor,” I say to Pollux, sliding the bottle back to him. The others burst into raucous laughter.

Pollux shakes his head at us, but he’s still grinning. “Ungrateful wretches, the lot of you.”

night's daughter taglist: @elhuei @writingbyjillian @wildswrites @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @zmlorenz @ghostsinthecupboards @cream-and-tea @chazzawrites @wannabeauthorzofija @strangerays @honeyscript @kahaaniyaa @viskafrer @hiddenhistoria @wisteria-eventide @ambsthom @bloodandmonsters @the-orangeauthor @writeblrfantasy

[zmwrites]

hello all! i am finally doing the thing!

basically i’ve hit a wall. and i’ve been working on this project forever without feedback (aside from tag games—which i am eternally grateful for). and i would like some godsdang validation!

so, things to know:

HERE is the wip intro for those of you unfamiliar with the project

i’m sharing six chapters, about 20k words, which constitutes “part one” of the book

the book is not done, nor has it been edited at all, so i’m not looking for feedback on the nitty gritty details. this is more to see if the general direction is interesting to people who aren’t me and if the characters are likeable outside of the fun snippets i’ve shared previously. and, as i said, some kind comments and validation would be appreciated as well but isn’t necessary if it isn’t deserved.

i’ll be sharing the section to each person individually, so everyone can comment freely without worrying about anyone other than me seeing them. as fun as the chaos of a shared google doc sounds, the privacy concerns are too great.

thank you to the people who interacted with my initial post about this idea for encouraging this!

HERE is the Google Form to sign up if you’re interested. i’ll start sending out docs tomorrow when i’m more awake!

taglists below the cut:

remnants: @starrywritingg, @elliotlpowell, @ayla-writes, @goldbonne, @draculinawrites, @wildswrites, @sinnerssaintsandcomplaints, @saint-orpheus, @akindofmagictoo, @stardustspiral, @josephinegerardywriter, @carminasolis, @wickerring, @wisteria-eventide

gen: @the-ichor-of-ruination, @professionalasshat, @writingbyjillian, @kitblogsthings

ppl who expressed interest in my initial post: @sleepyowlwrites, @pepperdee, @the-orangeauthor, @ashen-crest

[writeblrfantasy]

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snippets from acogs: dark, blank, or otherwise eerie nikolai

i'm very excited for you guys to meet the nikolai you would Not want to run into. you know the funny one? the flirty and kind one? this is not him. clocktenders lead a dark path.

He feels—empty. If he gives into it too much, he might develop an urge to unfreeze the clock again. It will do anything it can to convince him, forever seeking an outlet for the gods’ misplaced power inside of it.

That’s why he has the others. To pull him back when he needs it. To fill up his head with so much noise he can’t think.

In another reality, he gives in. In another reality, the Actium Empire isn’t together again and he has nothing to hold him back. In another reality, he has no one at all.

The thought doesn’t scare him as much as it should.

-

Not only is the diadem and plum coat gone, replaced by his hooded cloak, Nikolai has lost his smile, his cheer, his friendliness.

He’s all back to business. Back to the gravity Kayani asked of him, wondered why it wasn’t there.

It’s there now.

“You—” Kayani can’t find the words, so they settle for staring instead. “Was it all an act?”

“No.” Nikolai shrugs, effortless. “I said I’d do anything to convince her, just like I told you. Nothing is as important as the Staarenclock. I don’t think you all realize that.”

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“You want to be seen. The sword said so. I am giving you the opportunity to be the most seen person in Actium. For Cyril’s sake, take it. I will not let you be the downfall of everything I have fought so hard to achieve.” His fingers tighten over hers, chipped black paint to white knuckles to the strained glare in his face. That morphs into something like a sneer, something so satisfyingly ugly that he only allows her to see for a few seconds. In the precious time he allots, she tilts her head to take it all in.

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“Nikolai unveiled,” she murmurs.

Six shocked eyes turn to her like wolves.

“What did you do with our Nikolai?” Saige demands.

Katya rolls her neck, comfortable like a cat the first time Nikolai came to collect her. In the wake of the fire raging under her skin, warmth settles. She is content. “I gave him a mirror more effective than the reflections of those swords. Nikolai’s perfect companion isn’t someone who is composed and capable of sweeping him up. They’re stable. They’d prove to him with gestures, not words, that they’re not going anywhere, that they won’t hurt him.”

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He’s dreaming, so why does he feel like he’s in another hellscape?

He lays his hands over his ears and puts his head in his hands, trying in vain to block things out. “Please, leave me alone.”

The ticking gets louder, faster.

“Go away,” he screams, “for the love of the gods, shut up!” He throws his hands up like he’s Cyril bending the world to his will, making the skies and light obey him on his word.

All sound instantly disappears, leaving him in a world of darkness.

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acogs taglist (lmk to be added/removed and goddammit i missed you guys) @magic-is-something-we-create @inkflight @spencer-nyx @writing-is-a-martial-art @ashen-crest @wisteria-eventide @nikkywrites @denkis-phone-charger @myhusbandsasemni @lynolord @ettawritesnstudies @golden-apple-s-blog @chazzawrites @pen-of-roses @47crayons @wickerring @sleepy-night-child @florraisons@faithfire @croctears

only one more week till i can edit!

[darling-jack]

WIP Tag Games

Tagged by @perilit ♡

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips.

Yeehaw.

.... try not to judge me too hard.

the one idea- supernatural elements, canon divergent, angst

The Other One- sickfic with Young Arthur and Hosea

Red Dead Deception- pre-canon, OC-centric

LHsdkjgns- Dutch has weird hobbies

Bounty Wounty- Arthur and Dutch, H/C, canon divergent

bebies- Arthur and baby Jack, just a cute lil bonding fic

Arthur has anxiety :( - like it says on the tin lol

hooooooooors- A fic about Arthur's horse, beginning to end.

... for reference, Undone was titled "Garboog" and Eventide was "5vntord" so, yknow... I'm a champ at naming.

(Love to see what y'all got, @hoseadadthews and @whyyouacknsocraycray, and uh... honestly everyone, idk who writes anymore.)

[wundrousarts]

Some Silverborn ideas based on these emojis...

🕰️🌌 makes me think of the Skyfaced Clock and Eventide, which is fitting for a book that will explore more of Mog and her past/origins... the clock later on also makes me think of Ghostly Hours!

🕯️is likely the Black Parade. I really hope the "grr" snippet wasn't cut because I love it. I also hope the Parade isn't cancelled again because I'd love to see it through the perspective of Morrigan walking in it. If a Unit 920 member will have a "semi-importantish" role in the book, this would be the time to meet them.

🌳🎂 makes me think of the picnic snippet. Maybe a birthday for another 919 member?

🐙 intrigues me. Will we see an Octopuswun? I want to see an Octopuswun.

⛪️ is the church emoji... would love to get more lore on religion in Nevermoor, the Wundrous Divinities and the Divine Thing, etc...

🐉🩸💀📰🐉... is someone going to get killed at a dragon tournament? Someone's going to get killed at a dragon tournament aren't they... would they be killed by a dragon? Could the cover relate to this? (Could the "HAWTHORNE?!?" relate to this?) 🤔

Also the "teen Mog" snippet has Morrigan saying "I was there, I could help with the investigation" and I feel like it makes sense for her to be at a dragon tournament to support Hawthorne..... hmmm 🤔 🧐 👀

🕷️ I am going to be delusional and relate this to weaving. Because spiders weave webs... idk. More Wundrous Arts! More Wundrous Divinities! MORE WUNDER!

EDIT: did see someone say the spider could indicate Octavia, which makes way more sense and I do hope to see her? it? again.

🎂 the second time makes me think of Morrigan's birthday, since we know she turns 14 and it's "later in the book" and after the Christmas tree.

😭🥰😳😬 I have no clue if these are all related but I think it's kinda a funny sequence of emojis, lol. Perhaps Jupiter finds out about the apprenticeship at the end of the book? Perhaps this is something to do with Mog's mom, who Silverborn might start to explore? No clue. Excited to find out!

[sentfromwolves]

📝WIP Tag Game📝

tagged by @pinespittinink (i love you mwah) and this is a clusterfuck of a wip registry but here we go LOL 

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs (or as many peeps as you want, really- ‘tis just for fun!)

🌠 THAT DAMNED SPACE NOVEL 🌠

🐺 DARK FANTASY BUT LESBIANS 🐺

🚨 THE CARFUCKER WIP 🚨

��� ENCHANTED AT EVENTIDE 💝

🌺 CELESTIAL NIGHTS 🌺

🎨 LIKE NEON GUTS 🎨

🕊 CLEAVECROSS 🐍

🍫 COCOA & BUNNY 🐇

🌩 FIFTH SIN 🌧

👻 AMONG US GHOSTS & A MECHA NAMED FLOWER 👻

💥 THE WORLD BENEATH 💥

🐲 THE DRAGON NOVEL 🐲

I don’t have anyone to tag but if you see this and want to do it, consider me your tagger! Let’s spread some fun! 💝

[jackalsarchive]

WIP tag game

WIP tag game, swiped from @st0rmyskies and @drsteggy

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs (or as many peeps as you want, really- ‘tis just for fun!)

—————————————

Ah shit, here we go. These are WIPs that I’ve either been working on lately, or ones that I would actually have information and answers to give lol. The rest in my folders are barely any snippets, not fully formed yet! So just these posted for now. 

1. Keep the Home Fires Burning  

2. Witchbottle

3. TH/HSH Wild bartender fic (title pending) 

4. Love Me for Life   

5. Wind Waker fic (title pending)  

6. Pleistocene (Interstadial)  

7. Baby Lamb 

8. Hare in the Teeth of a Hound

9. Eventide Island 

10. Cherub

11. A Grace Period

[ximeria]

I seem to have acquired a WIP folder

This is a new thing for me. Normally it's single mindedly working on one story and then waiting for the next idea to hit.

I seem to have forgotten what it's like to get into a new fandom where the ideas are coming faster than I can write them XD

Current list of things in various states of undress being written - all legend of zelda fic...:

Soulmate AU (link/sidon) - status: on hold, missing plot ideas/plot holes the size of small planets.

Operation get Bazz laid (link/sidon/bazz) - status: Currently working on this. Should have been roughly 10-15K. Sits now at 30K and should hopefully be done within another 10/15K *cries*. Explanation: plot fucking snuck into the equation!

Return to Eventide (link/sidon) post-canon - status: ideas aplenty so just queued up to be written.

Snippets and smaller stories connected to the Buck Stops here (space AU). Just a very airy ideas folder.

Running Link ragged (link/sidon) - status: just a bunch of ideas, but shouldn't be a behemoth unlike the above 3some XD (I hope!)

Prisoner of the Devine Beast (link/sidon) canon-divergent - status: solid idea, some plot has been plotted, more to be done.

Law & Order (link/sidon) modern day-ish AU involving police work - status: I have so many stupid ideas for this one, so we'll see XD

A/B/O (a genre I dislike to hell and back most days) link/sidon - status: more ideas are being added. This veers off from the things I normally dislike about this genre, so we'll see where it ends up.

Pirate AU (link/sidon) - status: Just so far a faint idea. Might never go anywhere.

I can't start any of the ones because I'm currently on the 3some fic and I can not work on several at the same time XD. But, guys, you know what this means, if you do like the loz fic I have so far, I can assure you I am no where near done XD

Honestly, BOTW2 will be out before I'm done with this shit *laughs hysterically*

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

Would anyone like a snippet of Ch. 2 of Fast Falls the Eventide, and I In It?