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notyourmamasdeerbat · 29 days ago

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A Word With Friends!

I was tagged by @seaglassmelody and @davrinsleftpectoral ! 🧡 Thank you, my dears!

This week's word is Sanguine (I LOVE THIS WORD)

Definition (Adjective): optimistic or positive, especially in an apparently bad or difficult situation OR (noun): a blood-red color

Rules: Use the challenge word to write a sentence or scene and then tag a few friends. Happy writing!

I have some Coadi Aldwir backstory lore under the cut... and a sneak peak at a POSSIBLE (no idea if I'm gonna include it in Carry the Dagger for real) self indulgent little fancy formal wear espionage and deceit job in Minrathous with Neve! HOWEVER CW: Pre-transition/Nonbinary identifiers and terminology due to pre-game timeline, mentions of death, unhappy marriages and Orlesian nonsense. Just pure opulent nonsense. Enjoy! 👺🦚

Alois Cousteau was a man of principle.

A creature of habit, every year his chateau was host to a myriad of opulent celebrations and lavish parties. Most planned and organized by himself on daddy’s sovereign– Comte Denis-André Cousteau rarely left his study enough to even notice his bookkeeping when his head servant was not handling it himself. (Adelard had always been very discreet) The Comtesse was hardly ever in Orlais at all these days, much preferring to rub elbows (and other things) with the neighbors in the North.

This year, Alois was reaching his thirtieth winter. Young, bold and oh so very fashionable, his parties were widely popular, scandalous and crowded by the young and hopeful– praying to glimpse even an ounce of his generous hospitality or pick up an inkling of his infamous charm.

Presently, the son of the Comte was standing in the archway of the opulent parlor that led further into the chateau, all blue crown moulding and golden filigree, richly upholstered velvet and expensive diamond studded wall sconces. Within the cozy parlor and the ballroom beyond, every surface was draped in gauzy white ribbons. Live swans wandered the scene to come and go as they pleased from the lily pond in the overflowing garden at the height of summer bloom. A thousand monarch butterflies had been caught, gathered and released around the space, both within the house and without, to alight on every surface as welcome pops of warmth and color. They beat their wings in mellow time with the string orchestra in the west annex.

Guests had swarmed the place since noon, with more still arriving from around the city and beyond. Val Royeaux was so vastly popular in summer, and this year, the trending theme was birds. Feathers, rather.

True to form, Alois wore a peacock green coat with matching feathers at the collar, tall enough to tickle his cheeks when he moved. His wrists and throat dripped silver and emeralds. A startlingly red enamel mask swept up to cover most of his brow, the only contrast in the jewel toned ensemble that sparkled in the afternoon light.

Coadi stood on the other side of the archway of the main foyer, watching the line of arrivals swell and thin, fans fluttering, laughter trickling in and out of the chamber as their mentor cheerfully greeted his guests and ushered them inside. Always sanguine in attitude (and in cheek), the man was an electrical storm of good will. A startled gasp here, a friendly grin there, shaking hands and gently pulling arms.

A lull in the arrivals brought only the swell of the music into the space as the lordling caught his breath, still beaming. “I do hope Adelard’s kept the swans out of the kitchens.”

“Why?” Coadi mused, not smiling as they watched the doors. “They’d pair well with the roast pheasant.”

Cousteau laughed softly, throwing them a sidelong glance. “Maybe so. I do wonder if Lady Russe has maintained her aversion to fowl.”

“I imagine you don’t care for Lady Russe.”

“No, and she has no love for me either.”

“But she’s here.”

“Mhmm.” Cousteau beamed and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he crossed the room to stand beside Coadi, looking down at them fondly before training his gaze on the doors once more. “She was always jealous of my choice of footwear. Been trying to wring the name of my cobbler out of me for years.”

Coadi’s lips quirked bitterly.

“You are not laughing.” Cousteau’s smile fell instantly. “Oh, Coadi, are you ill?”

“No,” they sighed.

“Usually you find me delightful, no?”

“Of course,” they murmured, near fondly, gaze dropping to their polished boots and ruffled green coat.

“You’ve already wished me a pleasant name day. Are you displeased with the outfit?”

Coadi smiled wryly, eyes still on the gold veined marble floor. “No, Cousteau. It’s lovely. Thank you again.” They shifted, their waistcoat rustling and delicate silver lapel chains glittering over their shoulders and biceps in a mockery of military epaulettes. “You look wonderful, as usual.”

“I know, petite. Believe me.” The man preened, as if to make a point, turning in a slow circle. “A joke, really, the peacock feathers. But I find the beasts so charming.”

“They suit you,” Coadi said with a crooked smile.

“You think me pretentious.”

“Just the opposite.”

“Authentic in my flaunting. Perfect. From you, petite, a mighty compliment indeed.” Cousteau winked. “Actually, there is something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”

Coadi sighed. “I did get you a gift.”

“No! Not that. Oh– You did?” Cousteau laughed and slung an arm around their shoulders. “Lovely little student of mine. You shouldn’t have.”

“Every year,” Coadi groaned, rolling their eyes.

“And every year I love it. You have a generous heart, ma petite.” He frowned and shifted his weight, leaning against the wall more casually beside them. “But every year, you grow taller.”

“Mmm? Is that unusual?”

Cousteau barked another tittering laugh. “No, not at all. Our name days are not so far apart, you know. You will be twenty soon. Two decades alive. That is a large step! An honor, really, to see you reach such an age– and with such beauty. I must say, I pray you learnt it from me. A pity we share no blood.”

Coadi eyed him warily.

“Do not look so alarmed!” he chuckled. “It’s a compliment. Nothing more. Your father blessed you with excellent eyes. Sapphires are very in right now.”

“Mmm.” Coadi swallowed their scowl. Cousteau pressed on like it was of no consequence.

“Change often comes quickly at such an age. You’ll be entering your second year of University. You will hone your path, your future. I will of course continue to fund you as generously as I have, and our own lessons in etiquette and the arts will go on as usual. But, as my sole benefactee, some requirements must be… upheld.”

“Oh, Maker, spare me this.” Coadi resisted the urge to rub their temples.

“You could think about getting married,” he hummed innocently. For the millionth time this summer.

“No.” The silver half mask was heavy. The curve of the ridged silver filigree and a single teardrop diamond on a chain bumping unpleasantly against the bridge of their nose with every twitch of their head.

“And, that is what you said… last year.” He threw up his hands, as if there were just no helping them. “What about that girl… what is her name… Agnes?”

Coadi grimaced. “Cousteau,” they warned as the doors of the chateau swung open once more one the arms of filigreed guards.

He shushed them, smiling broadly as he reached out to shake someone’s hand as they swept into the ornately furnished salon behind them. He turned back to Coadi with a soft, tittering laugh. “Oh, come now. You think I don’t know what happens in my museum?”

“Comte Coustaeu’s museum,” Coadi corrected sourly, dipping into a curtsy as another lord and lady drifted past.

Alois sighed. “And there you go. Putting your clever tongue to just the wrong uses. Again. You could be making someone very happy. Laughing, of course. Forgive me, I know how that sounded.” He shot them a wicked grin, the salacious undertone hardly unusual.

Coadi scoffed and rolled their eyes, quickly throwing on a simpering smile as a baron from Perenvale cast them a small, patronizing wave. Evidently he remembered them. Coadi did not.

“Ma petite, I take care of my own. Your studies are progressing beautifully, you have made me very proud. I am only suggesting that you begin looking… forward.”

“You mean up,” Coadi observed, folding their hands behind them as their gaze followed the crowd.

“It is the only way.” Cousteau beamed and waved merrily at the duke and duchess of some lovely little city in the countryside as they rushed to meet with him, exchanging laughs and kisses on either cheek before disappearing further into the salon for tea. “You are in an incredibly foul mood tonight, petite. What has you in knots? It concerns me. Where is my charming, smiling Coadi?”

They shifted on gangly legs. The high neck of their jacket collar itched. “...I need to tell you something.”

“You do?” Cousteau beamed at them sidelong. “Keeping secrets now, then? That's good.”

“Cousteau, I–”

“Shh.” He turned to embrace a portly man in a maroon waistcoat. “Baron Le Gris, welcome! It is so good to see you. How is your wife?”

“As cold in the ground as I left her, I hope.”

The two men guffawed and squeezed each others’ hands. “A treat to see you again, ma ami. You are most welcome in my house.”

“Thank you, Alois. Lovely to see you as well.” The baron's eyes flicked to Coadi behind his silver mask. “And your…ward? You have no children. Unless of course I have missed something– you old dog.”

Cousteau tittered. “Baron,” he began cheerily, laying his hands on Coadi's shoulders. “May I present Coadi Aldwir, my protégé. She is performing with most incredible prowess.” Coadi winced, a nauseous feeling turning in their stomach. But they curtsied anyway.

“An honor, my lord.”

“Ah, still taking in strays. Even after the last one? You surprise me, as usual, Alois. She's lovely. Catching on quick then? Good, good.”

Again, Coadi winced. Twice over, actually. The last one. That was a story Alois had told them only once. They outright refused to carry red wine now, as a precaution.

“And the happiest of name days to you, my friend. I will see you inside.” Baron Le Gris clapped Cousteau on the shoulder and shuffled through the archway.

Alois dusted off his hands and allowed himself the slightest sneer after the man’s turned back. “Pompous pig.”

Coadi felt their lips quirk, against their better judgement, as they leaned close to their mentor, their voice a low whisper. “Did he murder his wife?”

“Not officially.” Coustaeu’s eyes sparkled with mirth behind his mask. “Truthfully, I don't know. He did not do it himself. Fat hands are only good for strangling thin necks. She was not a thin woman.”

Morbidly amused, Coadi started to laugh, smothering it as Cousteau ushered the last of the guests and a woman in an outrageously wide hat inside. “Come, ma cherie. I would have you mingle before the night is out. Make at least one friend, no? Better yet, some trouble?”

“My father would have my head.”

“I will tell him nothing. Go.” Cousteau beamed, making a shooing motion. “Enjoy. My treat.”

“Hmm.”

“There are plenty of young men– and ladies– all eligible, I assure you, who would die to dance with you.” Cousteau fanned himself theatrically.

“Cousteau,” Coadi groaned, feeling their face heat.

“One waltz. I insist. No, I demand.”

“...I will see.”

“You will know. No student of mine will linger in the shadows like a skulking phoenix. Go! Be charming.” He swept them along under his arm and into the parlor, into the masses of skirts and shed white feathers on the marble.

Immediately, he was pulled into the throng by grasping gloves and manicured hands– eager smiles and wagging tongues, all masked. It was eerie, the unchanging halves and angles of passionless faces and the living flesh beneath. Coadi wasn’t sure they’d ever grow used to Orlesian nobility, despite the years and years they’d spent lingering on its fringe. Like a moth on well worn curtains.

Left to fend for themself, Coadi kept to the walls, exchanging polite nods and carefully dodging any attempt at overly familiar conversation. Their stomach turned a little as they caught sight of an expensive porcelain vase, not unlike those housing the myriad of blooms in Comte Cousteau’s personal art (and history) collection.

They brushed their apprehension aside, hoping to seek out a drink and maybe find a study to duck into and hide amongst the bookcases. Lost in that subtle hope, they nearly slammed headfirst into the duchess of Montfort.

“Coadi!” she squeaked, beaming as she snapped open her golden fan to cover her all too genuine delight. Fanning herself, and the sparkling feathers of her metallic finch mask, she reached for their hand.

Coadi forced themself to relax and sighed softly, smiling as they took her delicate gloved hand. “My lady. Very nice to see you.” The duchess was not much older than they were, newly married to the duke– a severe man with a fondness for the color black, near as dark as his sense of humor and as bland as his palate. Unfortunate, really, as in this marriage Duchess Sabrine had given up her love of sweets. Coadi sympathized.

“You look lovely, my friend!” she chirped, leading them away from a group of milling men.

“As do you.” Coadi followed clumsily after, somewhat startled by the sudden and authoritative movement. “Is everything alright?”

“Why, yes!” Sabrine covered her mouth with her fan, eyes crinkled in a smile behind her mask, before she released Coadi’s wrist when they reached the far wall, reasonably out of ear shot. “I am so glad to see you. What was it, last Wintersend? My Maker it’s been torture. Absolute torture.”

Coadi started to laugh, but Sabrine shushed them violently. “I’m serious! Viktor is insufferable. But I met someone!”

“Oh no,” Coadi groaned, hiding a grin. “Not the gardener.”

“You remember!” Ecstatic, Sabrine seized their hand once more with a reassuring squeeze. “He’s asked me to elope!”

Coadi put their head in their other hand. “Sabrine.”

“I think he really likes me, Coadi. And I like him.”

“Better to just have the affair, no? Viktor is insanely wealthy.”

“Oh!” Sabrine scowled and playfully whacked across Coadi’s chest with her fan. They only laughed. “You have no sense of romance!”

“None whatsoever,” Coadi agreed, rolling their eyes.

“Really. How is Jeaneau?”

Coadi winced.

Sabrine frowned. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she gushed, holding Coadi’s hand over her heart. “Did he find someone else?”

Coadi scoffed. “No! He was lovely. But it was… not meant to be.”

“Hmmm.” Sabrine pouted, studying their face. Coadi’s gaze wandered over the duchess’ shoulder, glimpsing a head of tawny red curls and pointed ears. Revas looked up from where he was pouring tea for a group of lounging lords and ladies in a circle of armchairs. Clothed in softest grey, he was nearly invisible in the riot of color and noise. He caught their eye and winked, miming strangling himself with his cravat.

Coadi smiled in earnest, even as Sabrine launched into another tirade about how lucky Coadi was to have been born common so that no arrangements had been made or hands promised since the day they could walk, and that they shouldn’t be so ungrateful as to dismiss the opportunity of finding real chemistry at the University as they ‘weren’t getting any younger’ and ‘they would be lucky to find maybe a minor earl– not that she thought they couldn’t do better!’”

“You’re right,” Coadi agreed solemnly in the middle of her breathless rant, patting her hand. “You’re absolutely right. I wish you and your beau all the luck in the world. Let me know what you decide sometime. Write me, perhaps, if you can find the time outside your embroidery and pearl stringing. Lovely to see you. Goodbye, my lady.”

They slipped away before she shut her mouth on her own startled farewell. They weren’t halfway across the parlor before someone caught their arm. A young man with golden blond hair, in a red mask and a bright scarlet tailcoat resembling the plumage of a cardinal. In fact, near everything he wore was the most intense shade of crimson, down to his handkerchief and cufflinks, Coadi had ever seen.

“Hello! Watch yourself.”

Indeed, he’d just caught them before they could tumble headfirst into a meandering swan. The bird honked indignantly and continued its waddling path, parting an amused crowd in twos and threes as it made for the outer archway and the gardens beyond.

Coadi caught their breath with a startled huff, near laughing. “Thank you!”

“You’re quite welcome.” The young man beamed. “Do you have a moment, Mademoiselle Aldwir?”

“Rook?” They were running their thumb anxiously against the center of their palm, their gaze far away. Neve snapped her fingers, voice tight with urgency as she paused in the doorway of the main hall. “Rook!”

They were pulled from their reverie, eyes wide. “Hmm?”

Music spilled from the room beyond. A controlled string quartet. Light and laughter spilled down the grey marble halls, the geometry of Tevinter architecture unforgiving.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes.” Rook scowled and straightened their spine, the thin golden velvet of their borrowed gown swaying around their inked leg, a delicate gold chain jingling softly down their chest in its plunging neckline, a match for the loops dangling from their coppery Orlesian mask.

“My contact spooks easily.” Neve laid her hands on her hips, expression severe. Her white coat was spotless, a jeweled turquoise broach at her throat circled by golden serpents. “You need to sell this.”

“Oh,” Rook began with the smallest of bitter smiles. “I can sell this.”

“Good. Try to keep it together.” The mage cast them a long suffering look, equal parts concern and irritation. Then she pushed through the curtain drapery into the hazy lounge full of red Venatori cloaks.

Heheheheheeh I'M A LITTLE INSANE ABOUT DESCRIBING FASHION/FORMAL WEAR IN MEDIA I TRY REALLY HARD NOT TO WRITE SIX PARAGRAPHS ABOUT SOMEBODY'S SHOES YKNOW. HOWEVER. IF YOU EVER WANT TO SEE ROOK IN A DRESS (don't tell Lucanis) AND I WILL KEEP WRITING THIS FOOLISHNESS. Because I can. Probably. Idk. Thank you again for the tags and this lovely lovely game. If you made it this far- mwah! I kiss you on the forehead! Woe! Tags be upon ye! (no pressure of course, and only if you're interested <3 ) @hedwigoprah @fenrelmercar @sunny374940 @draco-illius-noctis @nevarrantorte @jenn2d2 @caughtnyact @redheadsramblings @starfleetteddybear @fireheartedpup @strugglinggranola @the-bear-and-his-sunbird @spinfins @thesummerstorms and YOU 👁️👁️

#a word with friends #carry the dagger #coadi aldwir #coadi aldwir lore drop #da veilguard fanfic #neve gallus #me randomly picking out orlesian cities and french names on my little map of thedas and baby name sites #dragon age rook #batty rambles in the rafters

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icwasher · 8 months ago

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My first idea for the @inklings-challenge (the space cowboys one) did not work out. I pumped this out tonight, and I'm actually pretty pleased with it!

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Title: Honor Among Devils

Summary: Erebus, a thief and conman, steals a magical object from an illustrious mage. After being captured, an unexpected ally frees him, sparking an inner conflict over the darkness of his heart.

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And here, displayed on these ink-ridden pages, the musings of a man who should have been a poet, but was forced to be something else. Something some would deem greater, something others would deem lesser. And, by others, something deemed a combination of the two. - An excerpt from the private journal of Erebus Penn

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Among the scum and villainy of the Harbor, I considered myself an honorable man.

The description might not hold under the scrutiny of the nobles, or under the eye of the Church, but from the perspective of a part-time gambler, part-time thief, and all-time conman, I was, for all intents and purposes, incredibly honorable.

“You toe a dangerous line” my mother had often told me, usually after I returned from an escapade picking fights with older boys, who had picked fights on weaker boys, who were unable to defend themselves.

“Angel or devil,” my father had said. “Sinner or saint. You must choose one. You cannot be both.”

Well, I thought differently. There was no honor in devilry—stealing and maiming for the sole purpose of profit (or among the more twisted, pleasure). Nor was there honor in sainthood—for saints were often killed, and their names were cursed by drunken sailors who had long given up on faith.

And honor, cursed as it may be, was a goal I could not help but aspire to.

The streets of the harbor were slowly growing dark, the grime so visible during the day falling under a mask of inky black. I strode along the cobblestone road, hands in my pockets, whistling a tune under my breath. My shoes, polished to a shine so bright I could see my reflection on the tow, made soft tapping sounds on the stones. A beat for the tune I whistled.

And a warning for those who lurked in the shadows.

This night was one that often appeared in my musings. For a good long while, I was not certain why the memory wished so ardently to appear on the pages of my journal, but when I finally set my quill to the parchment and honored its request to be written, the memory revealed all of its secrets to me.

Lights were turned off, curtains drawn closed. A part of me liked to think that the reaction was due to my passing. I enjoyed toying with the idea of people cowering in fear before me. Yet the other part of me, the part that still yearned for the golden cathedrals with their colored windows and marble statues, recoiled at the very idea of having a reputation that sparked such fear.

“What sort of dark path must you be falling down,” I said to himself, “that you would wish for people to fear you?”

The people’s reaction wasn’t for me, though, so I pushed my worries aside and continued on my way.

It was soon completely dark, black as pitch. For the briefest of moments, I could no longer see my way. I had it memorized, I could make the turns with my eyes closed, yet I stopped, and waited for the lights.

They blinked into existence slowly, little golden rectangles and arches high on the hill above. Slowly they wound around the incline, growing brother and larger until the palace itself began to come to life.

Nobles were nocturnal creatures. I had learned this during my time as one of them. Their parties would begin at dusk, and continue until the last dregs of the night. The nobles would be asleep before sunrise, and they would only wake in time to prepare themselves for the next party.

It was not the sounds of the parties that I was waiting for, however.

No, I was waiting for the Vallant.

They did not arrive in the same fashion that nobles did. The Vallant were more subtle, their cloaks richly embroidered, yes, and their tunics made of fine cloth, but of dark colors, and decorated with thread that would only shine under the direct light of the moon.

I could see the Vallant now, jumping over rooftops, the moonlight lingering on their cloaks briefly, so I could only see brief flashes of their visages. I could not help but watch in awe, standing alone in the middle of the street, my eyes wide.

But this position provided a horrible vantage point. I stepped off the street and found a drainpipe to shimmy up. I alighted upon the roof and settled comfortably on the tile, content to sit and watch the activities of the Vallant as they trained and performed throughout the night.

I had long since wanted to learn their magic, which allowed them to pass through the shadows unseen, to turn into particles of light and travel from one spot to another thousands of miles away. They could jump from roof to roof with not a single fear of falling.

For they could fly. They could soar. They had invisible wings that could carry them high enough to touch the stars.

And I would give anything just to brush a finger over a star.

Tonight, though, I wasn’t here to watch the Vallant.

I was here to steal.

Luckily for me, a Vallant saw me sitting on the roof, a black silhouette against the flickering lights of the Hill. The figure in its resplendent cape leaped toward me until it landed on the building beside the one I sat on. The Vallant perched on the chimney like a bird prepared for flight, the cape waving gently behind it.

“You are not supposed to be out after dark,” said the Vallant. The voice was female and sounded like the thrum of a fiddle. Her cloak was deep blue, decorated with hundreds of twinkling stars. They were diamonds, I saw, framed by starbursts embroidered with shimmery silver thread.

“I am not supposed to do many things,” said I, tilting my head to look directly into the Vallant’s eyes. Shrouded by the hood of the cloak as they were, I could only make out their vivid purple color. “It is unfortunate that the majority of the things I wish to do fall under that category.”

The Vallant was not amused. “I advise you to return to your home. The others are not as lenient as I.”

“Hmm.” I leaned back, showing that I had no intention of leaving. “I was under the impression that you were supposed to hunt Shadows and capture criminals, not argue with simple folk who wish to watch the lights of the Hill.”

The Vallant’s brilliant eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you are a criminal.”

I grinned, my teeth flashing brilliantly white in the dark. “In that, my dear, you are horrifyingly right.”

And I sprung from my perch.

I leaped upon her, fingers grasping around her throat. I had seen the glint of silver there as the wind shifted her cloak. My hand came back clasped around a silver necklace embedded with emeralds and pearls. Yet it was not the worth of the gems that intrigued me. A Vallant did not wear jewelry out of mere vanity—there would be something more to this necklace.

Likely, I thought, a cache of magical energy.

The Vallant wasted no time in attempting to take the necklace back, but I had already slithered away, jumping across the space between roofs. My feet hit the tile with a scrape and then I was running.

I heard the Vallant turn sharply and chase after me, her feet casting sharp thumps on the tile. She was faster than I—I couldn’t beat around that fact—but I knew the streets better than she did. I could tell that from the way she hesitated before following me down an alley or leaping to another roof.

The Vallant didn’t know where she was going.

I smiled. “Perhaps they should train you better!” I called.

The Vallant growled. “They train us perfectly well!”

And she dissipated into a thousand tiny particles of light.

I reached for my knife warily, waiting for her to reappear. I hadn’t forgotten about that particular ability the Vallant had, but I had foolishly believed this necklace would be her only cache of magic.

Clearly, I was wrong.

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I turned, seeing the Vallant emerge from the golden sparks.

She jumped on me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I fought down the panic that was threatening to rise in me. I placed my hands around her wrists and shoved, trying to remove her viselike grip.

I had no luck.

My vision began to spot as the Vallant squeezed harder. Her hood had fallen off, revealing a pale face and white-blonde hair that had fallen from its careful braid. Her expression was furious. I could almost feel her white-hot anger that was directed, unfortunately, at my neck.

In the corner of my dim field of vision, I saw another Vallant appear in a cloud of sparkling light. This Vallant—male, with shockingly orange hair—knelt down and carefully plucked the emerald necklace from my weak hands. I could not even attempt to tighten my grip, and let the Vallant take the piece.

At least, I told myself I was making the decision myself. I knew I really had no choice—and no ability—to do anything else.

The female Vallant pressed harder, and I saw hazy darkness overtake my vision. Only then did I fight, did I writhe and scream and shout for help. But the black forced itself upon me, and I succumbed.

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Despite having spent three years of my life gallivanting with the nobility, I had yet to see the throne room.

It was, admittedly, very grand. Gold covered almost every surface, coating the statues that lined the walls, gilding the throne, and even dusted on the King’s skin and hair.

The male Vallant who had assisted in my capture pushed me to the floor, the chains around my neck jerking against me painfully. I reached up to touch the collar, pulling it so there was a bit of distance between the cold, grating metal and my skin. Already, a raw line was present on my neck.

Again, I considered the nocturnal nature of the nobility.

The King, dressed in rich red velvet and draped in silks, studied me. “Why have you brought this common thief before me, Vallant Cadmus?”

The man bowed, saying, “It is not my complaint, but rather my companion’s.”

The King turned to the female Vallant I had stolen from. “Vallant Khione, what is your complaint?”

The girl stepped forward, her nose pointed to the floor. “This man stole my necklace and attempted to run off with it. I was able to intercept him using light displacement, even though the theft of the necklace severely depleted my access to magical energy.”

“How fascinating.” The King turned to the male—Vallant Cadmus. “Do you not train your apprentices better than this.”

The female—Khione—flushed as Cadmus said, “She is most resistant in following my teachings.”

“A sorry fact that must be fixed with discipline.” The King gave Khione a chilling smile. “I shall leave it up to your master to decide upon the punishment.”

Again, Khione bowed, her eyes closed.

While I was fascinated with the inner workings of the Vallant, I would much rather speak of my punishment. “Pardon, your Majesty,” I said, ignoring the appalled looks my words sparked in the two Vallant. “I would greatly appreciate a chance to speak for myself. Is that not how these courts work?”

I could see the King grit his teeth, but he nodded.

I smiled. “My defense is not against the accusations against me—I did steal from Vallant Khione. Her necklace was incredibly tempting, but not for its monetary value.” I fixed my eyes on the female Vallant, shivering under her cool glare. “I cared only for the magic the jewels possessed.”

“You must know that magic is only to be held by the Vallant,” said Khione, throwing her hand into the air. “It would be a crime to use it yourself—a crime, that, like this one, would result in your immediate death.”

“I am of the opinion that it should not be a crime,” I said.

One of her pale brows raised. “The stealing or the using of magic?”

“The latter.”

She frowned at this.

“Nevertheless,” said Vallant Cadmus, “the man has committed a crime—high treason against the Crown.”

“Now, that seems like a bit much, does it not?” I said, masking my nerves with a tone that conveyed I was telling a joke. “I simply wished to have a chance to fly.”

Both the King and the two Vallant turned their cool gazes upon me. I raised my hands in pretend submission.

“He should be hanged!” cried Khione. “Justice must be served!”

“I agree,” said the King. “He laid a hand on one of my Vallant, be it a product of her negligence or not. Send him to the dungeons, and I will have him hanged with the upcoming round of traitors.”

“Yes, my King,” said Vallant Cadmus.

He took me by the chains and dragged me from the throne room.

✠ ✠ ✠

The first warning I received was that the dripping—the dripping that had been aggravating me from the moment I stepped into my cell—stopped.

I slowly sat up, having been lying on my cot, and peered around the dungeon. From my cell, I could see the smallest bit of the common area, where the guards played a game of cards at a rickety little table.

They were no longer playing the card game, for they were no longer there.

Alarm immediately coursed through me. I automatically reached for my boots, preparing to pull the knife I kept there out, before remembering that the guards had relieved me of my weapons upon entering the dungeon.

The second warning I received was when the shadows covered every cell but mine.

My eyes went wide as saucers and I pressed against the wall, watching the pools of black creep across the dungeon floor, sinking into the stones in little rivulets. The shadows shrouded both cells next to me and the common area, yet stopped at the bars of my cell.

After a moment, I deemed it safe to come away from my position pressed up against the wall, and stepped close to the shadows that pooled outside my cell. Mesmerized, I reached out a finger to touch the shadows.

“I would not.”

The voice startled me, and I jumped back, both hands raised in fists.

A figure stepped out of the shadows, which billowed like smoke around him. He was draped in black wool embroidered with a deeper black. The hood of his cloak covered all but his mouth, which was set in a neutral line.

A Shadow.

I balked, returning to the wall.

I had no love of Shadows, the same as every sane person who had ever heard of their existence. They were heartless murderers, serving only the darkness.

The last time I had seen one was when they killed my family.

I did not know why this one was here now.

The mouth shifted into a smirk. “Do not be afraid. I have come to set you free.”

Of course. I laughed softly. “And you think I’ll believe you.”

“It would be dangerous not to.” The Shadow moved closer to the bars, then passed through them, the edges of his body turning into clouds of shadowy black smoke. He reformed in my cell, shoulders rolling back as if the use of magic had left him with a crick in his muscles.

“I’m sure it would,” I said as I inched away.

He only stepped closer.

“We reward those who stand against the Light,” he said, lifting a hand. I flinched away, expecting him to utilize magic and disfigure me in some morbid way, but he only lessened the shadows so that I could see better.

At my reaction, he laughed. It was an awful sound, and I fought to not cringe away. “Erebus Penn,” said the Shadow, “poet, conman, gambler.” He smiled, showing bloodstained teeth. “And, as of the last hour, master thief.”

I shivered.

“It is an honor to steal from the Light, you know,” said the Shadow. “It is my—and my order’s—greatest calling. If only you had not been caught. The power in that necklace could have been twisted so wonderfully. We could have used it.”

He crept closer to me. “But for your tenacity, I wish to reward you. Honor among devils, Erebus. I shall do the good thing and offer you freedom. And perhaps someday, you will assist my order again.”

I did not tell him that I had no desire to help him and his order. I only nodded, desperate to escape this cell—and my death.

“Very good.” He pressed both hands together, and a shadowy arch appeared in the wall of my cell, revealing an empty courtyard beyond. “Go to your freedom. Escape this city. Then, when you are ready, call for me. I will find you.”

He disappeared.

✠ ✠ ✠

I wasted no time in crawling through the arch. There was no one in the courtyard, and I shuddered to think of what the Shadow might have done to the guards. I had no doubt they would kill me on sight, but the guards likely had families, children, who would be grieved to find them missing.

I tried not to dwell on it as I made my way out of the city.

There was a stark contrast between the city and the land beyond it. A wall separated the two, the streets turning immediately from neat, though grimy, cobblestone to dirt. The clutter of buildings that was the city abruptly turned into vast acres of empty land, the landscape peppered with trees and bushes, the mountains in the distance.

I traveled along the road for a bit, then decided that if the Vallant deemed to look for me, they would search along the road first. So I stepped off of it and continued through the long grass, hidden from immediate view.

The stars and moon were my only source of illumination. I followed them religiously, my eyes flitting to check my course almost every minute.

I was traveling North, away from the city and to the wilder lands, where the Vallant had little authority and where the Church kept the Shadows at bay.

As streaks of orange and pink began to touch the horizon, I saw a cathedral in the distance, the rising sun framing the bell tower in brilliant gold. It was to the East, far enough away that my course would be greatly disrupted should I go in that direction.

Even now I do not know why I changed course. Perhaps it was the distant yearnings of my heart—I had long missed the cathedrals. Or perhaps it was because I knew the Church would be safe.

But the explanation did not matter. What mattered was that my feet turned, and then I was walking to the cathedral.

It did not take me long to reach the elegant building, with its tall, arched windows and intricate stonework. I wearily climbed the stairs and rapped once on the big wooden doors.

I did not expect anyone to answer and was prepared to break in if needed, but then the doors swung open and a short man dressed in a plain brown robe poked his head through the crack.

A smile lit up his face. “Welcome, young one. Come warm yourself inside.”

I stepped into the cathedral gratefully, my breath taken away by the sheer magnitude of the room.

Even the King’s throne room, drowning in gold and wealth, could not compare to the beauty that was this cathedral. The windows climbed all the way to the ceiling, the brilliantly colored panels of glass depicting scenes from the Saints’ stories and scenes from the Maker’s Book. The sunlight filtered in through the windows, casting a colorful pattern on the floors and pews.

An altar stood at the far end of the cathedral, centered underneath a skylight. The sun had not risen enough for the light to pass through that particular window, but I had no doubt that when the time was right, the sun would cast a golden halo around the altar.

The Priest must have noticed my awe, for he said, “It is beautiful, is it not?”

I nodded, my gaze still transfixed on the intricate carvings that framed the windows.

“Have you not been to a cathedral before?” asked the Priest.

“Not in a long while,” I said, finally looking at the Priest.

He tilted his head. “Why ever not?”

The questions Priests asked. I supposed it was part of their trade—it is their job to ask why one does not attend church. Still, I did not want to answer.

I did anyway.

“I have . . . fallen out of the practice.”

The Priest did not frown, as I thought he would. He only nodded. “Is there a particular reason why you have not attended a service recently?”

There were a thousand reasons, but I only gave one. “I am a criminal, Priest. The Maker’s Book condemns those like me.”

“And he forgives those like you, too.” The Priest lay his hands on my shoulders. “It does not matter what you have done. He will forgive it all. Hw will forgive you.”

“I do not think you will be saying those words when I tell you what I have done.”

He told me to tell him.

I did.

I recounted my tale, starting with my childhood, telling him that I was raised in the Harbor with little to eat. I recounted how the Shadows came when I was thirteen, killing my family. I told him that I escaped with nothing but the clothes on my back, and had to resort to stealing to survive. I told him that the local Priest banned me from the church because I continued to steal from its coffers. I told him about how I climbed up the ranks of one of the Harbor’s gangs, conning and gambling and cheating my way to the top. I told him about how I was betrayed by my sceond-in-command and left, again, to starve. I had been eighteen. I told him of the nights I spent watching the Vallant, dreaming of flying. I told him of how, three years after the betrayal, I stole from a young Vallant girl, and about how the Shadow came to visit me before my execution. I told him that I had been freed by the Darkness, and how I had come here to escape.

He was silent for a few minutes after I spoke. Then he said, “You are still conflicted.”

I started. “How—how did you know?”

“It is in your voice,” he said with a smile. “What conflicts you?”

I looked down, rubbing my fingers over the smoothly polished back of the pew. “I thought my actions were warranted. Only the Vallant have magic. Is it unfair that the common folk cannot wield it. I’ve always wanted to fly.” I picked at a fleck of white paint that was on the pew. “Yet when the Shadow condoned my actions . . .”

“You believe the Shadows are evil, yes?” said the Priest.

I nodded.

“Then think. If they approve of your choices, what does that say about you?”

“I am evil,” I said promptly.

The Priest raised both brows.

“Fine,” I said, squirming. “Not evil. But my actions were.”

The Priest raised his brows further.

“I—I am evil?”

He sighed. “We all are. Darkness corrupts even the most pure of hearts—even mine. All but the Maker’s. You—” He poked my chest. “You are just listening to the Darkness, obeying it. It is corrupting your heart, turning it to stone.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I said grumpily, “Do you realize that’s not helping?”

“I am not finished,” said the Priest. “It is corrupting you, yes, but you can let the Light back in.”

“The Light will pierce the Darkness and vanquish it,” I quoted. “Yes, I know. But I cannot—no Priest will accept you.”

“You should not seek the acceptance of Priests,” said the Priest. He walked away from me, and I thought he was leaving, but then he reached into a row of pews and procured a beaten tray with a pitcher on it. I only then realized my thirst, and gladly accepted the cup he offered me. “Seek only the Maker.”

“That is a bit difficult when no Priest will let you into a cathedral.”

“I let you in, did I not?” asked the Priest.

I smiled. “I suppose you did.”

The Priest patted my arm. “Come, son. I will show you the tower, where there is a room where you can stay.”

I stepped back a pace. “I cannot.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Then allow me to pay you.” I reached into my pocket. “I doubt you want stolen coin, but it is all I have—”

A hand forestalled mine. “No payment is required. All I ask is that you join me in my morning readings of the Maker’s Book.”

“ . . . that is all?”

His smile, already large, only widened. “Yes.”

I tucked the coins back into my pocket and considered. It was my best offer, and should the Vallant come after me, I would be protected by the Church. The same would be true should the Shadows seek me out.

Yet, it wasn’t the protection the cathedral offered that drew me in. It was the offer of teachings, to join a Priest in his pursuance of the Light.

So I lifted my chin and said, “I accept you offer.”

#inklingschallenge #team tolkien #genre: secondary world #theme: admonish #story: complete #writing #short story

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ilreleonewikiart · 1 year ago

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TDIOBCB challenge - day 10:

Doomed Ship - Alys Rivers and Harwin Strong

Jesser's brother nodded in agreement, his face etched with concern. "Indeed," he affirmed. "The peculiar actions of our Lord have only served to ignite the twisted imaginations of certain individuals. Dark tales from the past, once believed to be mere fables, have resurfaced like poisonous mushrooms in the seedy corners of taverns, where our Lord's watchful eyes cannot penetrate." "And neither can his sword," Jop added, his voice heavy with implication. Jesser couldn't help but glance around the dimly lit tavern, his mind swirling with curiosity. "What manner of rumors plague these tongues?" the young emissary inquired, though he already possessed a somber inkling of what would be revealed. Weel, attempting to navigate the treacherous path of his impending discourse, began, "Many a morning, as the women gather by the lake to wash their garments, they have borne witness to Alys Rivers, leaving her secluded island on a raft and venturing to her brother's castle. There, she remains for weeks on end before returning to her abode." Jesser's heart quickened with anticipation, for he knew where this unsettling narrative was leading. "This is indeed a curious occurrence," he mused aloud, "especially considering our Lord's purported desire to distance himself from the woman in question. It seems that some of the gossiping women, well-acquainted with the ancient whispers of Harwin Strong's unrequited love for his half-sister, have begun to insinuate that his decision to let Alys Rivers reside within his lands, rather than exile her, was driven by a darker motive. They suggest that he keeps her close, so he may have her in his bed whenever his twisted desires beckon, just as he had fantasized during his youth." "And not merely to exert control over her husband, as Lord Strong himself has claimed," added the other, his words laced with veiled implications, "a husband who is undoubtedly oblivious to these insidious rumors." - from TDIOBCB chapter 4

(warning: these illustrations are inspired by an AU Divergence and have nothing to do with canon (book or tv show) events and are not meant to be reposted outside of their contest)

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polizwrites · 2 months ago

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PoliZ's WIP Update - 16 Apr 2025

The stars continued to align for a nicely productive writing week! I touched 3 fics (2 new and 1 WIPs) for a total of 1823 words this week - mostly on one fic.

On Ao3, I posted:

Chapter Seven of Half of the Flesh and Blood That Makes Me Whole - Stucky → Stuckony wingfic remix

A Damper on Dinner - Stony No Powers (literally!) fluff ficlet.

On Tumblr I posted:

A Mysterious Magician - No Powers College WinterIron AU

I’m juggling 10-ish active/semi-active WIPs with my current deadlines being the Tony Stark and Beginning bingos.

See below cut for what I’m working on/planning to work on - arranged more or less by bingos/challenges/etc. As always, feel free to send me prompts or plot bunnies as well as asks regarding any of these projects or any other WIPs I’ve got out there. Interaction really helps feed the Muse and keep me motivated!

Character A/Character B Bingo [CACBB]

The Character A/Character B blog () & Discord server run a bingo where you get monthly 3x3 themed cards - I managed two fills on my February Rare Pair Bingo card - might sign up for May’s card if I get my writing mojo back on a semi-consistent basis.

Beginnings Bingo [BB_25] (Ends 31 May 2025)

This new all-fandoms bingo event (courtesy of @sweetspicybingo) celebrates beginnings. I’ve got a 3x3 card and have four fills so far and technically one bingo - would like to get at least “real” one bingo before it wraps up!

* A2 - first impression - Combined this with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF289 Blinding Gaze] for Close Encounters of the Blue-Eyed Kind - a Stony College AU meet cute/meet ugly with Tony literally running into Steve. It came in as a double drabble (200 words) and will get posted to Ao3 before the event ends.

* C2 - first sexual encounter - Combining this with my brand-new WinterIron Bingo prompt Alpha/Alpha relationship for a WinterIron PWP where Tony and Bucky are hooking up for the first time and Tony offers Bucky a new experience. It’s sitting at 224 words with probably at least that much more to go.

* Alt2 - first touch - Filled this with the next chapter of my Stucky → Stuckony wingfic remix that’s been on WIP hiatus: Half of the Flesh and Blood That Makes Me Whole. with Bucky preening Tony for the first time.

Tony Stark Bingo - Mark VIII [TSB_R8] (Ends 31 May)

This amazing bingo event from the folks over at @tonystarkbingo is still open for pre-made card signups, I believe. I have twenty-eight squares filled - may try to pick up another adoptable or two before the event ends.

* T3 - KINK: praise kink Combined this with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF290 Midnight Distractions] Sweet (Tech) Talk where a pining!Steve visits Tony’s workshop late at night and the way he’s sweet-talking his tech sends Steve’s mind right into the gutter. It came in at 456 words and will get posted to Ao3 before the event is over.

* Oct Adoptable: Facial Hair Bros - Filled this with New Kid in Town- a double drabble that crossed over with the Flash Fic Friday prompt [#FFF287 I Can’t Stand It]. Tony is complaining to Pepper about that so-called wizard stealing his look - she thinks Tony doth protest too much. It came in at 200 words and will get posted to Ao3 before this event ends.

Post July Break Bingo 2024 [pJBB_24] (Ends 30 Jun 2025)

I requested two 2x3 cards for this Discord-server only event from @julybreakbingo – so if you want to join in the fun, let me know and I’ll try to get you an invite! I have ten fics posted with a blackout on one card & 0 WIPs - need to figure out some more crossovers.

* C1_C1 - “What are we?” - Combined this with the YOTP March prompt Florist/Tattoo Artist AU, my FFB Feb - A1- Body Art square and the Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF298 Hidden Chemistry] for More Than An Inkling, where Tony is all too aware of the trope and tries to resist the chemistry he has with his next-door business neighbor. It came in at 373 words and will get posted before this event ends.

Fandom Free Bingo - FFB

The @fandom-free-bingo blog offers up themed cards on a monthly basis - either 3x3 or 5x5 - you have a year to create your fanworks if you want them reblogged.

Gingerbread Edition (December) - Ends 30 Nov 2025

Four of nine fills completed - no WIPs at the moment

* A2 - "I can't believe you!" Combined this with last week’s Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF299 Stranger Than Fiction] for Caught In the Act - a Tony & Pepper IM1 canon-compliant double drabble - expanding a bit on the scene where Pepper walks in on Tony being extricated from the armor after Gulmira. It came in at 200 words and will get posted to Ao3 before the event ends.

* C1 - Juice - Filled this in combination with the Flash Fic Friday prompt [#FFF296 Before the party’s over] and the YOTP March: “What are you doing with that?” prompt for It Takes a Miracle (Berry) - a No Powers workplace AU where Tony brings something to experiment with at the monthly team brunch; his crush gets involved. It came in at 526 words and will get posted to Ao3 before the event is over.

Half-Baked Edition (February) - Ends 31 Jan 2026

Five of nine fills completed with one bingo - no WIPs at the moment.

* A1- Body Art – see pJBB C1_C1 - “What are we?” above

* B2 - FREE - I combined this with a previous Flash Fiction Friday prompt [FFF#294 - Cursed Trio] for Horning In - a SamBuckyJoaquin ficlet where Brock tries to hit on Sam’s two partners at the club. It came in at 222 words and will get posted to Ao3 before this event ends.

* B3 - "Stay with me." - see BB B3 - First Snow prompt above.

Fool's Edition (April) - Ends 31 March 2026

One fill and one WIP already!

* Alt 2 - Muscles - combined this with an older Flash Fic Friday prompt [#FFF295 Help Not Wanted] for Offering a Hand - No Powers AU where Tony happens across two hunks, one of whom might qualify for a Stark Industries program. It’s coming in at 570 words and will post either this week or next.

* Alt3 - Aftercare - see TSB March Adoptable KINK: Overstimulation above.

Year of the OTP [YOTP_25] (Ends Dec 31 2025)

Making good progress on this challenge where you create (at least) twelve works for a specific pairing by using the monthly prompts provided. I’m a bit of an over-achiever with seven prompts filled so far!

* January - Stockholm Syndrome - Posted Redirected Aim to Ao3 this Winter Soldier & young!Tony ficlet combined this prompt with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF288 Loud Lie, Quiet Truth] for Redirected Aim . The Soldier’s mission had been to retrieve the serum Howard Stark had reformulated, leaving no witnesses. He chose a different target. It came in at 685 words.

* February - Bed Sharing - Managed to get Chapter 4 of Carrying Things Forward posted on time - see pJBB - C1_B2 - Learning to accept that what happened to them wasn't their fault above.

* March - “What are you doing with that?” - see FFB December C1 - Juice above.

* March - Florist/Tattoo Artist AU - see pJBB C1_C1 - “What are we?” above

WinterIron Bingo Round 3 [WIB_R3] (Ends 16 Jan 2026)

@winterironevents is bringing back their WinterIron Bingo event for a third round! I help co-mod this event and custom card signups are still available (through 10 May) - I've got my card and have 0 fills and 1 WIP!

* B3 - alpha/alpha relationship - see BB C2 - first sexual encounter above.

Warm and Fluffy Bingo [WFB] (no end date)

Nine fills on my card, courtesy of @warmandfluffybingocards - need to try for another crossover or two!

* G1 - Kiss on the Forehead - Finally posted A A Damper on Dinner to Ao3! It’s a domestic Stony ficlet where a power outage threatens their romantic dinner. It came in at 151 words

————

On other creative fronts: I’m working on a Racing Suit Tony figure for a commission, with Gamora and probably Yelena on the way!

If you’re looking for one of a kind gifts for birthdays or other celebrations, check out Stuffed With Character over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 150!). These soft stuffed figures are mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star Trek, DC and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design requests for any fandom! I do have one commission slot open for May - feel free to reach out via DM or to [email protected]!

#writing stuff #wip wednesday #wip update #shameless self promo

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human-psyche · 2 years ago

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HOUSE OF THE RISING RED.

" for them, eternity could last an hour, and an hour infinity... "

title: house of the rising red

characters: jungkook x reader

genre: romance, dark, vampire!jungkook, slightly older!jungkook, mature content

about: when y/n's millionaire family faces bankruptcy, they are reduced to moving in an antique mansion on belle-île-en-mer island, property owned by jeon jungkook一 a so called distant relative whose mysterious persona preceds their questionable blood ties. y/n discovers there is more to the mansion, to the island, and particularly to the secrets surrounding the ungodly handsome jungkook, submerging herself in a history of the preternatural.

a/n: chapter one will be up soon, share if you like. also follow me for more bts stories and content, and feedback is much welcome.

. . .

"Mr. Kim, I don't have time for stupid games. Step aside."

"And if I don't?"

"If you don't, we'll have a problem." the imposing presence of Jungkook makes itself known next to her.

She feels his hand on her lower back, his fingertips sending a slight shiver up her spine even through the thin fabric of her dress. Y/n glances to him, he's an epitome of perfection, from the top of his styled hair to his formal suit, but his eyes are fixed on Taehyung in a challenging stare.

Taehyung has the inclination to say something, it's clear this is not his first encounter with Jungkook. He doesn't in the end, swallowing a discontented gulp of his glass before walking away.

"Are you okay?" Jungkook's head swivels to her.

"I'm fine." she discreetly puts some distance between herself and the dark haired man, still avoiding to look him in the eyes. It's like he has such piercing gaze, searching for an inkling inside her that she's foreign to...

"Come, let's get you a drink. Don't just stand there all night." he grabs her wrist, not bothering with her evasion of him.

Her options are limited, she lets him maneuver her through the hallway and to a calm place in the foyer.

Jungkook whispers an order to one of the maids, not a minute later the woman's return bringing an iced, red colored drink with her on a tray that is unlike the champagne most other guests consume.

"I don't want alcohol."

"It's not. It's a cherryade receipe from Greece."

Satisfied with that explanation, Y/n accepts the glass, taking a few sips. The taste of sourcherries mixes a combination of sour, bitter and sweet, its fruity perfume offering it an aromatic taste. "Do you travel? Some of the items in the mansion are originar to other countries from Europe."

"You noticed?" he muses at her keen sense of observation. "Not anymore. I used to travel before old man Franco died and I inherited the mansion. I have to take care of business here." though that's not the entire truth.

"Aunt Charlotte told us you got your doctorate to the best university in France, why stay here when you could have become a successful businessman somewhere in a big city?"

"This island has sentimental value to me." his gaze dips upon her while she's glimpsing over the attendees of the party.

Y/n sees how it lingers on the curve of her neck from the corner of her eye, his irises darkening imperceptively, and she's shaken back to reality: even if he comes off as an ordinary man, it doesn't change the peculiarity of last night's scene.

"I know this might offend you, but please stay away from my sister." she hands him the drink, finally confronting the unspoken issue. "She's interested in you but if you have ill intentions, I ask you to think carefully about this. I will not let you harm my family in any way."

Jungkook chuckles. "Brave little thing, aren't you?" his touch is edged with the tug of his lips upward, stroking a strand of her hair between his thumb and index finger. "Pretty, too..."

Her brows knit, he's not taking her seriously, yet it's not just because she's a girl.

It's because she's unaware of many things.

"But are you really worried for your sister or for yourself?" he towers over her, once again messing her unyielding composure. "Do you want me to stay away from her...or from you?"

CHAPTER 1 |

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novice-at-everything · 8 months ago

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So this is what I have so far for my own submission to the @inklings-challenge for 2024, it's about half-finished, but I might be editing this later tomorrow with the finished product. I was a part of Team Chesterton, going with an Intrusive Fantasy. My chosen themes were Admonish, Counsel, and Forgive.

Some warnings might be added later, as I'll probably be touching on some rough topics.

All too Real

It all happened so fast.

One minute, everyone on Earth was behaving as they always had. Some very good, some very bad, and many floating somewhere in between. Few even considered the supernatural anymore, and many had, consciously or not, sunk into a dimly realized materialism. Life seemed to be ready to go on as it always had. People looked to the future and saw all manner of possibilities. Save one.

The next thing anyone knew, the world itself seemed to turn on its head. Crops withered without any warning and despite all good farming practices. Storms sprung up out of nowhere, deceiving even the bones of old grandparents. Oceans swelled with such fury that many ports had to shut down. It was as if someone had thrown a divine tantrum at being denied a favorite toy. That statement proved more accurate than anyone could’ve predicted.

The first to make themselves known were the oldest. No one’s quite sure which one it was, as the stories would break earlier or later, but soon it didn’t matter. Egypt suddenly started putting great effort into restoring their old temples and researching ancient rites. Greece did as well and had a little easier time of it. The Scandinavians had the bumpiest ride, but they got the hang of their new norm before being wiped out. Asia, for all its efforts to modernize, found their transition remarkably easy. Tribes all over the reservations in America found little disruption in their lives. In short, the world was shaken out of its supernatural snubbing when the pantheons of old caused a ruckus. It is in such a world of “real” gods and goddesses, nymphs and dryads, faeries, and all manner or demon, that our story begins.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Arthur barely remembered the early days of the Revelation, as many came to call it. He’d roll his eyes whenever he heard anyone on the news stations call it that. He didn’t know who first coined the phrase, but he was all but sure it at least had a partial origin in mocking his faith. Nearly every religion that had a pantheon had surged into reality seemingly all at once. The three notable absences were the three major monotheistic religions: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.

He did remember some of it, when churches all over had swelled with new attendees, only to shrink to only a fraction of their size from before when no angels or saints showed up. His atheist friends had suddenly become much more open to him whenever he spoke about his faith, and he had tried to impress upon them not to look for angels flying in the sky. They had been confused when he said this, to which he would only answer, “If you knew the Bible as I do, then you’d know that God prefers His followers to cooperate with Him than to simply obey out of only fear or sit back and worship Him as He did all the work.” That was usually about as far as he’d get before they’d roll their eyes and walk away.

“…you hear me? Hello, Earth to Arthur.” Snapping fingers in his vision jolted him out of his musings. He blinked in confusion, registering the hand as belonging to one of his coworkers. Marcus chuckled as Arthur refocused his attention on him.

“Sorry, Marc,” Arthur said, abashed, “I was a little lost in thought.”

“Clearly,” the other man said good-naturedly, “Anyway, just thought you’d like to know that our lunch break is almost up. We’d better get back to work.”

Nodding, Arthur cleared his place and went to clock back in. A few hours later, he was clocking out and getting ready to go home. Marc was just behind him.

“Hey, Arthur! Me and some of the guys were going out to the temple district, want to come?”

The temple district, something now commonly found in almost every city across the world, was the location at which nearly every temple to any god was built. Some areas that were dominated by one culture had temples to only one pantheon. Multi-cultural places, like the U.S, had massive, sprawling temple districts that catered to almost every faith under the sun in most major cities. It was because of this multiculturalism that the U.S. was one of the nations hit hardest by the Revelation. With so many cultures intermingling, the pantheons and their acolytes would often vie for the worship of the population. Where gang warfare had once been a large worry of inner-city people, now it was holy wars that ranked among the largest source of crime.

“I don’t know, man. I’d rather not repeat what happened last time,” Arthur said, though he knew that it was mostly his fault to begin with. A fact that Marcus pointed out.

“You’re the one who interfered with the Mayans. Yeah, I wouldn��t do human sacrifice, but if that’s what their gods demand, then what does it matter?” Arthur again had to fight to keep his face neutral. It got harder and harder to do when he saw what the worship of these gods entailed. Seeing his friend’s continued hesitancy, Marcus tried to pacify Arthur’s reluctance.

“Look, we can avoid the tribal division if it helps. Me and the guys were just going to pay our dues to Hephaestus anyway. Gotta keep him happy if we want to keep our jobs, right?” he teased, playfully slugging his friend. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh.

“More like bribe him to tell you how to do your job. Need to be reminded on the difference between a Phillips head and a flathead?”

“I don’t need to be reminded how to use a hammer.”

“For the job, right? Or do I need to keep my helmet on around you from now on?”

“You ladies gonna clock out or make out?” Another voice chimed in.

“Hey, Rob. I think I got Arthur to join us at the temple district,” Marcus said with a wave and a point at his friend.

“You sure that’s a good idea, Marc? Remember what happened last time?” Rob asked, glancing skeptically at Arthur.

“I’ll behave. Marc just said that y’all were gonna bribe Hephaestus to do your jobs for you.”

Rob barked out his own harsh laugh at that. “Funny, Artie. I, for one, will be paying my respects to Aphrodite,” he said to cheers and wolf-whistles from most of the guys there. Arthur was just glad no one was paying him too much attention to see the smile fall from his face for a moment.

‘It wouldn’t do any good, anyway,’ he thought to himself.

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Traffic around the temple district was always crowded. The gods were not bound by mortal needs of rest. As such, it took most of the guys time to park and make their way to the pre-arranged meeting place. Trevor arrived first to the Greek fountain, only to find Arthur sitting on the rim.

“One of these days, I’ll remember to ask you where you park to beat us here every time.”

“You could just ask now,” Arthur answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Where’s the fun in that? It must be a dramatic reveal of epic proportions,” Marc chimed in, slinging an arm around Arthur as he spread out his hands dramatically.

“You sure you’re not also a follower of Apollo, Marc? You’re certainly dramatic enough for it,” Trevor said with a smirk.

“That’s Dionysus, Trevor. I thought you knew that,” Marc shot back. “In fact, let’s all visit his temple after this. I could use a drink. Meet us there once we finish up, Artie?”

“You just want me to drive you home when you get hammered.”

“Why do you think we keep you around?” Rob wrapped a meaty arm around Arthur’s own solid shoulders.

“I might be willing to drive you drunks home, but I’m not a taxi service for your conquests, Rob.”

“Not even gonna be a problem, Art. Those Aphrodite ladies live at the temple. You won’t have to worry about driving me home.”

“Good thing it’s the weekend, eh, Rob?” Marcus jeered.

As the two men laughed and walked up the steps to the temple of Hephaestus, a brick-and-mortar thing that always smoked, Trevor noticed Arthur draw back from the group and sit once again at the fountain. His friend watched as they all entered the temple and went deeper in to pay homage to the patron of their craft.

“Wait a minute, guys,” Trevor called to his Marc and Rob. “What do you think Arthur does while we worship?”

“Beats me,” Marc shrugged. Rob did as well.

“Why don’t we find out?” Trevor prompted.

“Eh, why not,” Rob said, “S’not like I’m gonna get much sleep anyway tonight,” he chuckled.

“Let me see if he’s still at the fountain.” With that, Trevor peeked around the incoming devotees of Hephaestus to find Arthur walking away from the fountain, weaving through the crowd.

“He’s moving, c’mon.”

Marcus, Rob, and Trevor followed their unknowing quarry as he strolled away from the marble and pillars and slipped into an alley between a temple to Zeus and Poseidon. They followed him through alleys and behind temples, winding a path to the middle of the temple district. Their confusion grew as the evening shadows darkened to night. The deeper they went in the middle of the temple district, the more tightly the walls of these temples seemed to close in until the three men had to walk single file, with Marcus in the lead and Rob bringing up the rear.

“Where’s he going?” Trevor whispered. Though they would usually just catch Arthur disappearing around another corner, the three men didn’t want to risk him hearing them.

“Don’t know,” Marcus shrugged. “Not sure there’s even anything here anymore. I never came to this part of town before the Revelation. Got any ideas, Rob?”

“There was a strip mall around here awhile back, but not much else that I remember. I doubt Artie’s here for shopping. What was that?” Rob sharply asked.

They all froze at the sound. A deep, wooden groan, followed by a creak and a thunk. A door had opened and closed somewhere around the next corner that Arthur had vanished around. In the silence and surrounded by the tall walls of the temple storerooms and defunct buildings, the three men began to wonder if Arthur’s secret was of a darker nature. But in that silence, they heard something else.

“Is that singing?” Trevor asked.

“Sounds like,” replied Marcus. They drew closer to the sound and peeked around the corner. This alleyway was wider than the one before it, allowing the three men to stand side by side before the tall wooden door. It was an unremarkable thing, like the front door to some sub-urban house, but lacking the windows. Above the door was a shallow carving in the shape of…

“A fish?”

“Wait, I think I remember that fish from somewhere,” Rob said slowly, “Yeah, I used to see it on the back of trucks and cars and stuff, before the Revelation. It’s been years since I’ve seen one though.”

“Do you know what it means?” Marcus asked.

“Not really, but I do remember…Bible verses under them sometimes? At least, that’s what I think they were.”

“Wait, wait, Bible verses!?! You mean…”

“Excuse me.” The three men startled as an old man hobbled past them. Leaning on his cane and breathing heavily, they watched as he opened the door and slowly shuffled in. They heard more clearly the sound of singing for that brief moment, the lyrics rang clear in their ears.

“…my heart to sing Thy…”

“So, this is Arthur’s big secret? He’s a Christian,” Marcus said, crossing his arms at the door and the fish above the door. “Why a fish? I thought the cross was their symbol?”

“Didn’t Christianity get illegalized recently?” Trevor asked.

“Not really, but I think I remember seeing a lot of burnt churches when I was little. It’s been years since the Revelation. I didn’t think Christians were still around. Let alone that we were working with one.”

“Excuse me, sirs.” Another voice piped up. One of the prettiest girls they had seen walked around them and through the door. Rob couldn’t shake the feeling that he had seen her before.

“Well…” Marcus began, “Maybe we could peek in for a bit…”

“You sure, Marc? I mean, what if someone finds out?” Trevor asked with a strange sense of caution.

“It’s not like they’ll force anything on us right? Besides, think of how Arthur will react. Oh, I can’t wait to see his face.” Marcus started for the door, and with a hesitant look to Rob, who simply shrugged his broad shoulders, Trevor and he made for the door.

It wasn’t like anything they had seen before. The lights inside the simple church glowed the same as in some of the temples they had been in, but this place and a more intimate feeling compared to the grandeur of the something like a temple of Zeus or Odin. At the far end of the room, a large cross hung on the wall. There weren’t any pews like their dim pictures of churches predicted. Instead, several groups of people huddled together with their heads bowed. One group was responsible for the singing the three men had heard before. The old man they first saw enter was sat upon a bench, his cane leaned against the wall. The young woman was nowhere to be seen. But Arthur was.

He was facing away from them, kneeling before the cross with several others. With almost providential timing, he rose from his prayers and turned to find the three men standing awkwardly at the door. He walked over to them.

"You followed me, then?" Arthur asked them, a blank expression on his face.

#inklings challenge #inklings challenge 2024 #team chesterton #intrusive fantasy #theme: admonish #theme: counsel #theme: forgive

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ablatheringblatherskite · 2 years ago

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So sorry to bother you @queenlucythevaliant, @lady-merian, @catkin-morgs, @mrgartist, @magpie-trove, @freenarnian, @swinging-stars-from-satellites, @incomingalbatross, @muse-write, but I was wondering if you have any advice for the Inklings Challenge! This is my first time joining, and I'm rlly excited and a little nervous (especially since I'm gonna have to step out of my comfort zone for this)!

#inklingschallenge #asterrisks

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inklings-sprint · 9 months ago

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Space Travel

?Questions?

Where are we traveling to? Is it someplace known or unknown? What does the space travel look like? Flying saucer? Traditional rocket? Something like you'd see in Star Trek, Star Wars or Stargate or any other space show or movies?

Are there aliens? Are we the aliens? Are there any humans at all? Are the characters human or alien?

When does the story take place? Now? Not far into the future? Distant future? So far into the future that now is ancient history? The past maybe?

Do you come across any anomalies? What planets, if any come across you path? Any stars of interest? What about space debris?

#inklings challenge #inklings sprints #inklingschallenge #inklings sprint #inklings-challenge #musing on the inklings challenge #inklings challenge musing #team lewis #space travel

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allisonreader · 2 years ago

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I think I'm going to post what I have started for both of the other stories that I had originally intended for the Inklings Challenge. Just because I can. And because I really do like the Selkie Cinderella Little Mermaid story. And just to get a reaction to at least the start of The Mysterious Mansion.

#musing on the Inklings Challenge #inklings challenge musing

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allisonreader · 9 months ago

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I have definitely decided on a story and for the challenge it is the only story that I intend to focus on. It's actually a story idea that I had vaguely conceptualised from the very first challenge that I've always sort of wanted to play around with. It's pushing me outside of my norm because I don't usually write on the technological more sci-fi side of things. (The science behind how everything works in the story isn't important to me and won't be focused on.)

I'm starting to weave a little bit more of my theme in by just mentioning it (prayer) but we'll see how that shifts and changes as I get into the story.

I don't know how long it will be. Maybe about 5000 words at the longest, I don't want another Tales Of A Frozen Sailor on my hands (which is about 30,000 words in its current state.) not that I don't love the story, I just don't want this project to be that long.

I'm hoping that if I can get the story done before the end of the challenge that I can use the other sprints I have scheduled to work on other writing projects like the rewrite of Tales Of A Frozen Sailor.

But at the moment I'm kind of at the point where I feel like I need to look at a couple of maps. One being a world map, which I can save the image of and place where my towers would be and then a map to semi plot the journey my characters are taking.

Overall I'm getting there slower than I would like, but I am moving forward, even if it means the story is broken up weirdly.

The Eagle and Child: End of Week 1

Now that we're a week into this year's Inklings Challenge, it's time to return to the Eagle and Child to chat about our writing.

You can share things like:

Have you settled on a story idea yet?

Which genre/themes are you using?

What kinds of things–music, images, stories, themes, etc.–are you using to inspire your story?

How have your ideas changed over the course of the week?

Have you written any of your story? How much?

Do you have an idea of how long your finished story will be?

Have you created any extra things related to your story–artwork, playlists, moodboards, etc.? Do you care to share?

What are your plans for the coming days? What do you hope to accomplish?

How are you pushing yourself with this writing process? Are you hoping to develop any new skills?

Have you learned anything from this writing process?

Or anything else you care to discuss. As always, this is just for fun, so you can share as much or as little as you like. Thank you all so much for continuing on this writing journey with us. Have fun!

#the eagle and child #musing on the inklings challenge #inklings musings

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chounaifu · 1 year ago

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💘 - What traits personality-wise are attractive to your muse?

Let's talk about romance! Muse questions // @infernalpursuit

Personality-wise, Proton is attracted to:

Ambition

Pride

Charisma

Fearlessness

Ruthlessness

Dedication

People who are capable of filling a room with their energy and personality are very alluring to him! He needs a lot of stimulation to keep him interested-- otherwise he is going to grow bored, and once he's bored of someone, they're better off as playthings to him. (In a derogatory manner.)

This doesn't necessarily mean that they have to be extroverted. Introverts are able to assert their personality as well. It's all about being authentic and shameless about themselves.

On the flip side, Proton is also VERY fascinated with people who are stuck in their shame, and seem like they need a nudge in order to shed that part of themselves. If you have even an inkling of interest in being more open or bold, Proton is going to show up and REEAAAALLLLLLYYY pull it out of you. He enjoys getting people to crawl out of their shells. He thinks it's endearing.

He's also attracted to personality types that are willing to put him in his place or challenge his world views-- but ONLY if he and that other person have a stable connection already. You cannot just walk up to this guy as a stranger, or a casual acquaintance, and try to get him to come to heel. He will laugh at you, he will maul you, and there will be some assembly required afterwards.

#➤ 《 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞 》 Headcanon #➤ 《 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐌𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 》 Answered #infernalpursuit

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maxmoffs · 6 months ago

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like i said the other night , you are always welcome to send me memes ! just bc the best way to interact with me if you’re shy or just wanna start it off with writing is prompts/memes , so if we’re mutuals and u find the inkling to write with wanda OR/AND my other muses ( to which i have actually been enjoying a lot jumping between characters when i need a break from the other , it’s really fun for me & challenges my creative writing ♥️ ) pls do, bc im also a slow burn and often times cannot reach out quick for plotting , and honestly in my experience , at least with me the interactions i have rn have been through prompts first which then ignited spark of ideas 💡 truly the best way to twinkle ideas from me bc i immediately run to u to plot ♥️

#im gonna add this to my rules as general first thing tbh #♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️#&. ( love ellie! ooc. )

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polizwrites · 2 months ago

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PoliZ's WIP Update - 23 Apr 2025

Woo - three productive writing weeks in a row! I touched 3 fics (2 new and 1 WIP) for a total of 1846 words this week - nearly all on one fic.

On Ao3, I posted:

To New Beginnings - Recovering (and Jewish) Bucky ficlet (no pairings)

Offering A Hand - No Powers platonic Stucky → meet cute WinterIron ficlet

When The Lights Go Down in the City - Peter Quill & Rocket & Groot & Tony ficlet

On Tumblr I posted:

Aftermath of a Scrap - Steve & Bucky (and Sarah Rogers) pre-war ficlet

I’m juggling 10-ish active/semi-active WIPs with my current deadlines being the Tony Stark and Beginning bingos.

Character A/Character B Bingo [CACBB]

Beginnings Bingo [BB_25] (Ends 31 May 2025)

* C2 - first sexual encounter - Combining this with my brand-new WinterIron Bingo prompt Alpha/Alpha relationship for So Into You - a WinterIron PWP where Tony and Bucky are hooking up for the first time and Tony offers Bucky a new experience. It’s coming in at 1526 words and will get posted on Friday.

* C3 - first victim - May be filling this with a Tony & Bruce ficlet where they’re discussing the Winter Soldier. It’s sitting at 123 words and will get posted before the event is over.

Tony Stark Bingo - Mark VIII [TSB_R8] (Ends 31 May)

This amazing bingo event from the folks over at @tonystarkbingo is heading towards the finish line! I have twenty-eight squares filled - may try to pick up another adoptable or two before the event ends.

Post July Break Bingo 2024 [pJBB_24] (Ends 30 Jun 2025)

Fandom Free Bingo - FFB

The @fandom-free-bingo blog offers up themed cards on a monthly basis - either 3x3 or 5x5 - you have a year to create your fanworks if you want them reblogged.

Gingerbread Edition (December) - Ends 30 Nov 2025

Four of nine fills completed - no WIPs at the moment

Half-Baked Edition (February) - Ends 31 Jan 2026

Five of nine fills completed with one bingo - no WIPs at the moment.

* A1- Body Art – see pJBB C1_C1 - “What are we?” above

Fool's Edition (April) - Ends 31 March 2026

One fill and one WIP so far!

* Alt 2 - Muscles - Posted Offering A Hand last Friday. It’s a crossover with an older Flash Fic Friday prompt [#FFF295 Help Not Wanted] for a No Powers AU where Tony happens across two hunks, one of whom might qualify for a Stark Industries program. It came in at 575 words.

Year of the OTP [YOTP_25] (Ends Dec 31 2025)

* March - “What are you doing with that?” - see FFB December C1 - Juice above.

* March - Florist/Tattoo Artist AU - see pJBB C1_C1 - “What are we?” above

WinterIron Bingo Round 3 [WIB_R3] (Ends 16 Jan 2026)

@winterironevents is bringing back their WinterIron Bingo for a third round! I help co-mod this event and custom card signups are still available (through 10 May) - I've got my card and have 0 fills and 1 WIP - need to look for more crossovers with my active cards!

* B3 - alpha/alpha relationship - see BB C2 - first sexual encounter above.

Warm and Fluffy Bingo [WFB] (no end date)

Nine fills on my card, courtesy of @warmandfluffybingocards - need to try for another crossover or two!

* G1 - Kiss on the Forehead - Finally posted A A Damper on Dinner to Ao3! It’s a domestic Stony ficlet where a power outage threatens their romantic dinner. It came in at 151 words

————

On other creative fronts: I’m working on a Thunderbolts Yelena figure for an upcoming con, with a Cap!Steve and Spider-Gwen/Ghost-Spider on the way! If you’re looking for one of a kind gifts for birthdays or other celebrations, check out Stuffed With Character over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 150!). These soft stuffed figures are mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star Trek, DC and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design requests for any fandom! I do have one commission slot open for May - feel free to reach out via DM or to [email protected]!

#writing stuff #wip wednesday #wip update #shameless self promo

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