#wip: unbound by the light

[floralmusings]

Character Intro - Lucerne

Lucerne - they/them

Faceless Ones, or Servants of Vigil if you're one of the devout, are humanoid creatures bound to the Goddess Vigil through a mask affixed to their face that glows with the golden light of divinity. These creatures were once considered nothing more than remanants of myth and history, but this is soon to change.

Despite still bearing the mask of Vigil, Lucerne appears to be unbound to their goddess in all other way, expressing free will and sentience not usually known in Faceless Ones.

Lucerne has no memories from before they 'awoke', only the faint memory of a name that they've taken as their own.

The mask glows with an irreverant golden glow at all times, but can be used by Vigil as a beacon to pinpoint their location if need be.

Speaking is a painful endeavor for them and instead have taken to trying to learn sign language to communicate.

Lucerne's goals are to try and remove the mask and discover who they were before they were a Faceless One, if they were anyone at all.

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

June 27th

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1. Bit tired of the "oblivious WWX" thing, so I'd love:

A) some fics that acknowledge how he had no way of knowing how LWJ felt, especially in light of how combative a lot of their interactions were; bonus if he either figured out his own feelings early or it's pointed out that he had no processing space for romance

B) fics where LWJ is the oblivious one, or in denial (and I argue that he probably was the latter for a long time even in canon)

C) fics where they get their confessions out early but it doesn't prevent tragedy

Any setting except A/B/O is cool! If it contains smut, please no cnc; Thank you! 🪻@linderel

1B)

🔒 Worthy of Dreaming by Ashura (T, 9k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Getting Together, First Kiss, Accidental Marriage, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Supportive Jiangs, Good Parent JFM, Oblivious LWJ, WWX is the grownup this time, courting, Marriage Negotiations, Misunderstandings, Communication, Fluff, POV LWJ, Lan Clan Headband Weddings)

1C)

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 947k, WangXian, WIP, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Getting Together, Supportive LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Supportive LXC, Canon Divergence, Inventor WWX, Possessive LWJ, Cultivation Sect Politics, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Fluff and Smut, Burning of the Cloud Recesses, Fall of Lotus Pier, Angst, Sunshot Campaign Not JFM Friendly, split into parts, Part 1 complete, Part 2 complete, Original Character(s)) they get early together but there is so much drama and tragedy that I stopped reading till the fic is complete

Unbounded by vermilliondust (T, 246k, WIP, WangXian, WWX & LQR, Time Travel Fix-It, Good Uncle LQR, LQR Tries, Lan Family Feels, Jealous LWJ, Domestic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Kid Fic, Growing Up Together, WWX grows up at cloud recesses, guardian angel LWJ, Canon Divergence, Period-Typical Homophobia, Good Person MY, LWJ and Mianmian are besties, Cultivator JYL, Protective WN, Squint to read the Background ships, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, But mostly bottom wwx, Exploration)

If You Were Made For Me by etymologyplayground (M, 8k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Omake, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Heavy Petting, Kissing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Sad Ending, Intimacy, Sharing a Bed)

~*~

2. For ITMF: I looove case fics, are there any longer fics with maybe a mystery element that take place post-canon? Preferably established/married wangxian being a badass battle couple. And/or some youngling shenanigans where they think their seniors are just so cool?💚 Ty! @jorolle

爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie (E, 68k, WangXian, All the clan leaders, Literally so many OCs, Case Fic, Blood and Injury, Demons, Body Horror, Mystery, The intrinsic horniness of wound tending, 爱不释手; never let me go [podfic] by esbielle, [Podfic] 爱不释手; never let me go by argentumlupine) not established relationship but everything else

build me no shrines by occultings (microcomets) (M, 54k, WangXian, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, First Time, Getting Together, Confessions, Sharing a Bed, Hair Washing, Sentient Burial Mounds, Case Fic, Post-Canon, CQL Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Light Angst, Flashbacks, mild body horror, foot washing, Happy Ending, Non-Sexual Intimacy, …then sexual intimacy, playing fast and loose with mdzs lore, WWX learning to accept intimacy without deflection, occasional LWJ humor agenda, 🔒[Podfic] build me no shrines by flamingwell, multiple translations available) this also doesn't have established relationship but has everything else

🧡 moonlight caught in mutton fat by Raitelzen (T, 45k, WangXian, Case Fic, Curses, Curse Breaking, Transformation, mild body horror, Hurt LWJ, Ghosts)

The Teacher Opens the Door byAdmiranda, Rynne (T, 30k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Night Hunts, Case Fic, Married WangXian, Gusu Lan Juniors Dynamics, Teacher WWX, Teacher LWJ)

Wei Wuxian's Delightful Demon Baby! by CheekyBrunette (T, 22k, WangXian, Case Fic, Accidental Baby Acquisition, POV LSZ, LSZ-centric, LSZ Needs a HugJealousy, Family Feels, Family Bonding, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Canon Universe)

Where the Lonely Ones Go by CSHfic, VSfic (T, 23k, WangXian, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Case Fic, Night Hunts, Fluff, Established Relationship, Mystery, Married Life, Domestic Fluff, Haunting, Kid Fic, Post-Canon)

your words upon my lips by uchiuchi (T, 17k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff, Curses, no sad times only good times, Canon Compliant, Romance, Case Fic) all feature married/established Wangxian.

These next ones feature Wei Ying and Lan Zhan getting together during the story but prominently feature the Juniors:

And I Will Call You Home by Spodumene (E, 42k, WangXian, Case Fic, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood, Ghosts, Suicide, Explicit Sexual Content, Attempted Sexual Assault, LWJ whump, Original Character Death(s),🔒[Podfic of] And I Will Call You Home by Spodumene by AuntieIroh))

Linger in the Sun by etymologyplayground (T, 39k, WangXian, Case Fic, Intimacy, Curses, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Romance, Sexual Tension, Scent Kink, wwx Loves To Teach, Fluff, Scars, Sharing a Bed, Nonverbal Communication, [Podfic of] Linger in the Sun by knight_tracer, [Podfic of] Linger in the Sun by isweedan)

The envy of the world by vulnerable_bead (E, 48k, WangXian, Case Fic, Fluff and Smut, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Canon Compliant, WangXian as teacher(s), WangXian as musicians, Spell-weaving) Married WangXian & Lan juniors. It has good mystery and famous windowsill scene.

🧡 moonlight caught in mutton fat by Raitelzen (T, 45k, WangXian, Case Fic, Curses, Curse Breaking, Transformation, mild body horror, Hurt LWJ, Ghosts) I just finished rereading "moonlight caught in mutton fat", which is a post-canon (CQL), married wangxian case-fic, but LWJ is incapacitated for most of it, it's WWX & LQR for most of it :b

~*~

3. Hi! I'm itmf fics where Wen Ruohan is Wei Ying's biological father.

All Things Belong by kuroi_atropos (M, 93k, WRH & WWX, WangXian, WWX is a Wēn, Abuse, Whipping, Manipulations, Warning: WRH, Smart WWX, Possessive Behavior, Warning: JGS, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Society Level Victim Blaming, Victim Blaming) WRH is grandfather rather than father but I think the requester will still enjoy

🔒 In Which They Are (Not So) Secretly Married by panda_desu (T, 99k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Gender Changes, Genderswap, Female WWX, Secret Relationship, Secret Marriage, Implied Sexual Content, Implied dubcon, dual cultivation to fend off qi deviation, qi deviate or papapa, Family Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Supportive brother LXC, sunshot campaign doesn't happen, Everybody Lives, inaccurate wedding tradition, supportive brother JC, Intimacy, mention of menstruation, Girls talk, Historical Inaccuracy, Childbirth, Non-Explicit, Mention of Lactation) (link in #15) so many charas are ooc but maybe you like it

Heliocentric by Coolio101 (T, 8k, WangXian, in which WWX is born as part of the Wen Sect, Mutual Pining, LWJ & JC are friends….kind of, Wen Sect WWX, Fix-It, LWJ has zero chill and is always 2 sec away from throwing hands, but that’s basically canon, also WRH is still an asshole, so if you were expecting redemption!fic this might not be for you, Canon Divergence)

~*~

4. itmf asexual wwx please 🙏🙏 @whatifijustnifeyou

Picture Perfect by manaika (M, 22k, WangXian, WWX/Other(s), Past Relationship(s), Widower WWX, Grief/Mourning, Getting Together, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Stepfather WWX, LSZ is a Wei, Single Parent WWX, Asexual Character, Aromantic Relationship, Platonic Life Partners, it's all in the past and only mentioned/discussed when relevant, Sex-Favorable Asexual WWX, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Modern AU, Past Character Death, Food Intake Related Medical Issue (not what you think))

🔒your touch in the dark (your voice in the silence) by beesinspades (M, 13k, WangXian, Modern AU, Friends With Benefits, Busker! WWX, Musician! LWJ, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Strangers to Friends With Benefits to Lovers, Happy Ending, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Asexual Character, when it gets sad it is in no way related to the character's asexuality Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, Asexual WWX, Demisexual LWJ)

🔒Found by WithBroomBefore (M, 22k, WangXianCheng, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Sunshot Campaign, Golden Core Reveal, Happy Ending, Asexual WWX, Aromantic JC, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, WWX Lives, JYL Lives, WQ Lives, WN Lives, POV JC, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Literal Sleeping Together, communication au, Established Relationship, Getting Together, the established relationship (sexual and non-romantic) is between JC and LWJ, both relationships exist concurrently, Trans LWJ, Marriage Proposal, aromantic marriage, Minor XiYao, Minor XuanLi, the getting together (romantic and non-sexual) is between LWJ and WWX, Minor ChengQing, Trans WQ, Aromantic WQ, Queerplatonic Relationships, Polyamory, JZX Lives, extremely minor NieNing)

🔒my joy, my fate, my destiny by threerings (T, 8k, WangXian, Ace Wangxian Asexual WWX, Asexual LWJ, Asexual Relationship, At least ace spectrum left open to interpretation, Asexual Romance, CQL Verse, Post-Canon, Confusion about sexual orientation/asexual identity, Cultivation Partners, Love Confessions, non-sexual physical intimacy)

Come Out and Level Up by figmentera (T, 3k, WangXian, Modern AU, Asexual Character, Asexual Spectrum LWJ, Asexual WWX, sex favorable asexual characters, t for language, Getting Together, Queer Themes, Heteronormativity)

🔒one heart, one body by stiltonbasket (Not Rated, 1k, WangXian, Married WangXian, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Asexual WWX, Demisexual LWJ, Asexual Character)

🔒Unexpected by WithBroomBefore (T, 2k, WangXian, Queerplatonic Relationships, Aromantic, aroace character, Asexual Character, Aromantic Character, Modern AU, No Plot/Plotless, conversations about sexual and romantic orientation, queerplatonic WangXian, Coming Out, Sort Of, Asexual WWX, Aromantic LWJ, aroace WWX, Research, Happy Ending, soft friends who love each other, Cuddling & Snuggling, Mutually Unrequited)

~*~

5. Hii im intmf any lan wei wuxian fics, like he was adopted by the land instead of the jiangs? Or he was taken from the jiangs? ( ・∇・)

🔒🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 63k, WangXian, Near Death, Depression, Psychological Trauma, Justice, Fear, Angst, No War AU, Attempted Murder, Bad Parent YZY, POV Third Person, POV LXC, Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Romantic Gestures, Recovery, Near Death Experiences, POV LWJ, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals, Eventual Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Siblings, Protective Siblings, Soup, Triggers, Protective LWJ, Protective LQR, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamic,s reference to poisoning, reference to assassination, Reference to chronic illness, reference to infanticide, Minor Injuries, Painting, Gift Giving, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Good Sibling JC, Good Sibling JYL, BAMF WWX, Jealous SS, WWX Protection Squad, Wedding Planning, Weddings, Mental Health Issues, Hair Brushing, POV WWX)

🧡 All will be well when the day is done by abCEE (T, 76k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix It, Not Jiang Family Friendly, JFM & YZY Bashing, Fix it for our main characters, Time Travel, Butterfly Effect, Madam Lan Lives, No Sunshot Campaign, Artistic License, Unreliable Narrator, JC Bashing, non-yunmeng WWX, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Good Uncle LQR, OOC, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, WWX gets the love and care that he deserves from the very beginning, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, verbal and physical (c/o Zidian) abuse from YZY)

Consequences by Remma3760 (Not Rated, 58k, WangXian, XiSu, XuanLi, Canonical Child Abuse, Abusive YZY, Good Uncle LQR, WWX is a Lan, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Bad Parents JFM and YZY)

🔒💖 Do you want to hear by allollipoppins, dameauxgentianes (T, 12k, WangXian, time travel fix-it, canon divergence, not everyone dies au, epistolary, Madam Lan lives, minor character death, dark LWJ, Lan WWX, bad parents JFM & YZY, good uncle LQR, no sunshot campaign)

🔒how a smiling homeless child melted jade hearts and got a home by anxiouswreck0_0 (T, 41k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, WWX was adopted by the lans, lan WWX, pining WWX, Canon Divergence, LQR making questionable parenting choices, madam lan is a good parent, Fluff and Angst, Fix-It of Sorts, Childhood Friends, childhood fiances? Yes, Character Death, insecure WWX, slightly possessive WWX, Possessive LWJ, Not Everyone Dies, Dark LXC, OOC, Mild Gore, Explicit Language, Supportive LXC, Morally Ambiguous Character, Sassy WWX, WWX does not like the jins and it shows, clingy LWJ, mother hen LXC, Good LQR, Good Parent LQR, Good Parent QHJ)

藍色的花，紅色的蘭 {Lan se de hua, hongse de lan} by Admiranda, AshayaTReldai (M, 45k, WIP, WangXian, Orphan WWX, Friends to Lovers, Childhood Friends, wwx raised in the lan clan, softer lqr, Good Uncle LQR, Good lan clan, Good Older Sibling LXC)

🔒 Life is Like a Stranger by through_shadows_falling (T, 69k, wangxian, Kid Fic, Child LWJ, Child WWX, First Meetings, Canon Divergence, Cute Kids, Orphan WWX, Autism Spectrum, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Canon, POV LWJ, Growing Up Together, WWX raised at Cloud Recesses, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Puberty, Growing Up, Coming Out, teenage angst, Wet Dream, Pining, This fic gets a little raunchier as the kids become teens, But it won’t get too explicit, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Spanish Translation, Brief mentions/moments of WWX kissing others in chapter 22 but only on the cheek, also characters kiss WWX on the cheek in chapter 23, but his real first kiss is with LWJ)

safe here with me by xcourtney_chaoticx (G, 3k, WangXian, Family Feels, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Goes to Gusu, Fluff, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Food Issues, Endgame WangXian)

so i cut the shackles and changed my name by MichelleFeather (T, 44k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, WWX is a Lan, Good Uncle LQR, Supportive LQR, Protective LQR, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, JFM and YZY Bashing, Jiang Family Bashing, Abusive Jiang Family, Running Away, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Hurt WWX, Genius WWX, No Sunshot Campaign, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cultivation Sect Politics, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Canon Divergence, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, WRH isn't a power hungry tyrant, mostly, BSSR is WWX's Grandparent, JGS Being JGS)

soft-hearted by sarahyyy (G, 6k, wangxian, alternate universe, childhood friends, hurt/comfort, getting together, first kiss, wedding fluff)

🧡 To have and to hold by Moominmammashandbag (M, 78k, WangXian, JFM & YZY, MingLi, saved by the forehead ribbon, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Happy Ending, Major Character Injury, POV Alternating, BAMF teenage WWX, Based on the drama, Eventual Smut, Food as a Metaphor for Love, NMJ deserves love, Weddings, Strangulation, XY appears only to die almost immediately, Temporary Character Disability, Minor Character Death, Attempted Seduction, Attempted Sexual Assault, Kidnapping, Stabbing, BAMF LWJ, JZX becomes a better person, Semi-Public Sex, BAMF WWX, Internalised ableism)

A Quiet Life of Leisure by nirejseki (G, 7k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, WWX raised in another sect, WWX among the Lan, Alchemy, Explosions, different Jiang sect dynamics)

~*~

6. hi, i love the headcanon that everyone at cloud recesses (especially from the juniors) has a crush on WWX !! any fics with that hc?

Transcend by covalentbonds (Not Rated, 7k, WIP, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff and Humor, Smut)

Help, My Dad Is Fucking Someone My Age!! by sweetlolixo (T, 3k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Humor, Crack, Fluff, Romance)

🔒 A Lure and Catches not Intended by mondengel (T, 3k, WangXian, WIP, Humor)

~*~

7. For In the mood for- I want to read something like wei ying is always hyperactive and rarely calm but when lan zhan tells him to calm down he listens . Something like Due Diligence by YunmengLotus. It will be alright if it does not contain smut . I would like to read something with this kind of vibe .

Thank you so much . You and Your blog is the best <3

A Matter of Devotion by mrcformoso (E, 11k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage Sex, Dark LWJ, Dark WWX, Grooming, Manipulation, Consensual Underage Sex, But problematic, Mentally older LWJ, Anal Fingering, WWX Self-Lubricates, Riding, Belly Bulge, Kinky uses of resentment, WWX topping from the bottom, Oblivious WWX, At least in the start of the new timeline, Genius WWX, Genius LWJ, Homicidal LWJ, Flashbacks, Communication, LWJ tries to use words, Happy Ending, Light Angst, LWJ in Seclusion, Casual references to LWJ murdering people, POV LWJ) Features a scene like this but dead dove, part 3 of an AU

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8. Hi, could you rec me your fav possessive Wangxian in the canon setting? Thank you! / Hi, I look for canon wangxian fics in which one of them or both are possessive. Thank u!

And He Knew Those Silver Eyes Were Trouble by PieceofLove (M, 311k, WangXian, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Pining, Canon Compliant, Major Character Death but like he's already back so it's ok, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Introspection, CQL-Verse, Childhood Memories, Love At First Fight, Falling In Love, Soulmates, Dreams and Nightmares, Angst and Humor, Trauma, PTSD, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Emotional Roller Coaster, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Revenge, Dubious Consent, Forced Kiss, Triggers, Panic Attacks, LQR's A+ Parenting, Chronic Pain, Reincarnation, Slow Burn, Lwj Golden Core Reveal, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Dates, First Time, First Kiss, but technically not first kiss, Eventual Smut, Please heed chapter warnings, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, POV LWJ)

💙 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 947k, WangXian, WIP, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Getting Together, Supportive LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Supportive LXC, Canon Divergence, Inventor WWX, Possessive LWJ, Cultivation Sect Politics, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Fluff and Smut, Burning of the Cloud Recesses, Fall of Lotus Pier, Angst, Sunshot Campaign Not JFM Friendly, split into parts, Part 1 complete, Part 2 complete, Original Character(s))

🔒 Heart of hearts series by apathyinreverie (M, 40k, WangXian, Dark LWJ(Ish), Amnesia, WWX gets to be Not Okay after the BM, Hurt WWX, Recovery, Caring, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, some definite manipulation but not everything is as it seems, not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, WWX Goes to Gusu, Possessive WWX, WWX happily atticwifing away, Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Not Cultivation World Friendly)

i carry your heart with me by lulu_kitty (G, 12k, WangXian, Age Regression/De-Aging, Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Fluff and Angst, some knives but honestly this is mostly fluff, possessive littol a-zhan, wei ying may ONLY give attention to a-zhan, no one else it's the rule)

🔒 As good as by apathyinreverie (T, 6k, WangXian, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, not a good uncle LQR story, but also not not?, Golden Core Reveal, Kind Of, Golden Core Fix-It, Also kind of, Addiction, Manipulation, not between wangxian, just...War politics, Sunshot Campaign, Not As Dark As The Tags Make It Sound, Possessive LWJ, Protective LWJ, Tired WWX, Genius WWX, Dual Cultivation, LQR is too old for teenage drama, Developing Relationship)

Do not take that which does not belong to you by Selene210 (E, 7k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Jealous LWJ, Possessive Sex, Kidnapping, Murder, Blood and Violence, wangxian married and have a son, Explicit Sexual Content, Biting, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Bath Sex, Rimming, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, WWX has an angry LWJ kink, Wangxian canon breeding kink, LWJ canon massive dick)

🔒Something is wrong with A-Zhan! by HeloSoph (M, 15k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Sort Of, Dark LWJ Morally Gray WWX, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, WWX is a Lan, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, JC Bashing, Smitten LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Engaged WangXian, Blood and Violence, Shameless LWJ, Good Uncle LQR, Semi-Public Sex, or at least wangxian's version of it Scheming NHS, POV NHS)

🔒Tangible by apathyinreverie (T, 2k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Humor, Possessive LWJ, First Kiss, Getting Together, the library scene)

💖🔒Advisable Lan rules and other shenanigans by apathyinreverie (G, 4k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, JC & WWX, Canon Divergence, fix-it, humor, drunk LWJ, smitten LWJ, soft WWX, possessive LWJ, gusu lan rules, drunk shenanigans, fluff)  

~*~

9. Hello! I'm in the mood for something dark. Actually Wei Ying dark. I want something on the premise that Wei Ying gets fed up, or snaps, and destroys the cultivation sects. I think there is one where he destroys the Lan sect because Lan Zhan died from the whipping. I want that kind of story. No modern settings, Wangxian wanted, but not necessary. Just a BAMF Wei Ying throwin down. @marietsy40-blog

Fresh blood through tired skin by todesesser (M, 2k, WangXian, Major Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Fierce Corpse LWJ, Dark LWJ, Dark WWX, ghost jiejies, Blood and Injury, Demonic Cultivation is very sexy, A-Yuan is just vibing, Fratricide)

🔒you soothe me just to torture me again by PrismaticAvocado (M, 4k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dark WWX, Dark LWJ, Dark LSZ, Dark LXC, Dark LQR, jc is honestly not that much darker than in canon if at all, Murder Husbands, Torture, Homophobia, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, almost everyone is bashed somewhat except for wangxian and a-yuan be warned, JC Bashing, WWX Lives, BAMF WWX)

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10. A) Itmf: hey, I look for canon fics in which A-yuan is Wangxian biological child. Thank you!

B) Hey, I would be super happy if you could rec me your favourite fics in which WY/LZ get together during the Gusu Arc. 🥰 Thank you! @dream-about-dancing

10A)

🔒 Blooming in white by verte_orchidee (T, 38k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, MM/WQ, LXC/NMJ, JC/NHS, Canon Divergence, Mpreg, Getting Together, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, starts from chapter 71, hidden pregnancy, Mutual Pining, Drama, Misunderstandings, Everyone Lives, Miscommunication, WWX and NHS are BFF, matchmaker NHS, Fix-It)

🔒 Come Lay Your Head Down Beside Me by Preludian_Staves (Not Rated, 9k, WangXian, No Sunshot Campaign, Fluff and Angst, protective Lans, Not Jiang Clan Friendly, Mpreg, Established Relationship, Getting Together, Past Abuse, Child Abuse, Getting to Know Each Other, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX)

Lan Sizhui's forehead ribbon by I_have_a_fleet_of_ships (T, 1k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, Married WangXian, Established WangXIan, LWJ & WWX Are LSZ's Parents, Oblivious LWJ, Gusu Lan Forehead Ribbon, Good Uncle LQR, Fluff, Light Angst, Post Mpreg, Post-Canon)

🔒 Not my lips you kissed (but my soul) by verte_orchidee (M, 20k, WangXian, LXC/NMJ, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Sunshot Campaign, Fall of Lotus Pier, Happy Ending, Starts from chapter 55, Romance, fast burn, WWX and NHS are BFF, Horny Teenagers, Loss of Virginity, Smut, Angst, getting together early, no loss of golden core, pregnant WWX, Mpreg, soup drama, Matchmaker WN, Smugji strikes again, Everyone Is Gay)

Seek and Ye Shall Find by orphan_account (E, 21k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, JC Bashing, Jiang Family Bashing, JYL is Not Angelic, Gusu Lan Sect Bashing, LQR critical, LXC Bashing, NMJ Critical, NMJ Tries, Only for NHS, Not bc he feels guilty, JGS Being JGS, Secret Relationship, Secret Children, Explicit Birth, WWX's Baby Unboxing - Live, Married WangXian, WangXian Get Married in the Cold Springs Cave, Married WangXian Have Children, LWJ & WWX Are LSZ's Parents, Sexy YLLZ WWX, WWX is the Most Handsome Man, LWJ Being a Perfect Husband, the singles ranking exists for a reason, and interested people are here to remind you of it, wedding receptions are the perfect place to find a friend, Cultivation World Critical, WWX Has a New Golden Core, No Yīn Iron, Cultivation Sect Politics, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, Mpreg, Gusu Lan Elders Bashing, WQ Lives, Wen Remnants Live, No Smut)

Take My Pieces, Make Me Whole by InTheGreySpaces (M, 297k, WangXian, LXC/NMJ, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, LXC & JGY, NHS & NMJ, Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt WWX, JC & WWX Reconciliation, JC is a good brother, LXC Is A Good Brother, Golden Core Reveal, Mpreg, Yuan really IS WWX's son, and LWJ is his other father, LQR is a good uncle, after he's an ass for a bit, nobody we like dies in this one, cleansing the Burial Mounds, Eventual Happy Ending, WWX Has Memory Issues, resentful energy is almost a character of its own in this one, Nei Clan's resentful saber secret, NMJ is a good brother, Hurt LWJ, Hurt NMJ, Baxia is a misbehaving bitch, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, tiny bit of non-con, chapters will be tagged individually with necessary warnings, sentient Yin Iron)

🔒 you can have the best of me, baby by stiltonbasket (Not rated, 17k, WangXian, JYL & WWX & JC, LXC/NMJ, Canon Divergence, Pre-Relationship, or that one where wangxian are trapped in the xuanwu’s cave and use dual cultivation to get out, Dual Cultivation, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Sunshot Campaign, Getting Together, a-yuan is wangxian’s baby, Happy Ending)

10B)

Three changes. by orange_crushed (M, 18k, WangXian, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Friends to Lovers, Romantic Comedy, Kissing, Fade to Black, Mild Sexual Content, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot, No War AU, Everything's Beautiful and Nothing Hurts When There's No Sunshot Campaign, Falling In Love, Non-Graphic Violence, Everyone Lives, Sparring, Harm to Animals, Don't Worry The Animal is Fine Wangji Makes Sure of That, Developing Friendships, Wangji Makes Friends At Summer School, None Of This Makes Sense Until You Remember They Are All Teenage Boys, teenagers in love, They're A Mess Your Honor (And I Love Every One Of Them), Hurt/Comfort, Mild Blood, First Time)

An accidental kiss by deliciousblizzardshark (M, 4k, WangXian, Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Fluff and Humor, Marriage, Non-Explicit Sex, No Angst)

❤️ Bet Your Heart by Vamillepudding (G, 14k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Romantic Comedy, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together)

Just Say Yes Series by edenwolfie (T/M, 338k, WangXian, Matchmaking, Pining, Getting Together, Canon Divergence, POV Alternating, Fluff, First Kiss, Declarations Of Love, Humor, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Good Uncle LQR, Engagement, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It)

soften you by Solarlwj (M, 14k, WangXian, WIP, Canon Divergence, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Aged-Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Light Angst, Touch starved LWJ, Developing Relationship, tinie mama lan knives, lwj and his quest to become comfortable with touch again, quest aided by the love of his life, this definitely won't result in any problems, slight mention of wwxs upbringing and food insecurity, playful wangxian, the only war here is the one between lwj and the romantic thoughts hes having against his will)

❤️ You Are My Euphoria by Orphan Account (M, 18k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Making Out, 5+1 Things, Mutual Pining)

~*~

11. are there any fics with single parent wei wuxian but with teenage a-yuan?

Through laughter and pain we keep on moving series by Starfell123 (T, 52k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, mentions of abuse, Mentions of Disownment, Swearing, Friendship, Attempted Arranged Marriage, WWX has gone through therapy, Catharsis, supportive friends, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Genius WWX, Rich WWX, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, BAMF WWX, difficult conversations, Good Sibling JC, Talk of disownment, JC-centric, Brotherly Love, Reunions, Communication, Healing, Fluff, The Yungmeng brothers act like embarrassing parents, Family, POV LWJ, LWJ Is So Whipped, Supportive LXC, Protective LWJ, Family Dinners, Caring WWX, First Meetings, POV JL, JC is stressed, Brotherly Affection, Emotionally intelligent JL, POV JC, Road Rage, POV LSZ, POV WWX, First Dates, Caring LWJ, Classical Music, Second dates, Mishaps, Rabbits, Minor Injuries, First Kiss, Teasing, Yunmeng-disciples love WWX, JC acting as Wangxian's wingman, Festivals, All of Lotus Pier love WWX, Sensory Overload, Slight Melancholy Nostalgia, Father-Son Relationship, dumb WWX, teenage moodiness, Attempt at Humor, Identity Reveal, Misunderstandings, Euphemisms, embarrassing conversations, Inventor WWX, Protective WQ, Brother-Sister Relationships, WWX in Love, Meeting the Family, Yiling Tech members, POV WQ, information gathering, NHS knows a lot, Slight Paranoia, POV NHS, Secret Identity, YLLZ WWX, Protective NHS, Vague cultivation references, Vacation, family trips, Airports, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fear of Flying, Awkwardness, WWX being the mom of the group)

🔒 how to make your dad fall in love with your high school teacher in five steps; the complete and bulletproof guide by ravenditefairylights (T, 90k, WangXian, Modern, Coffee Shops & Cafés, Nonbinary LSZ, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Healing, Hurt WWX, Found Family, Hospitalization, Therapy, Family Dinners, Single Parent WWX, Mutual Pining, Teacher LWJ, Studio Ghibli References, Sleepovers, Unreliable Narrator, Teenager LSZ, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, Chronic Pain, Queerplatonic Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Wei Yuan rights, Genderfluid WWX, Autistic LWJ)

Howling by MimiSpearmint (E, 40k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Mortal Instruments Fusion, Horror, Eldritch, Domestic Fluff, Single Parent WWX,   Witchcraft, Getting Together, shifter!lwj, yllz!wwx, Intercrural Sex, Hand Jobs, Angst with a Happy Ending, Switch WangXian, a bit of a degradation kink, anti-STI sex talismans, Anal Sex, Oral Sex)

Picture Perfect by manaika (M, 22k, WangXian, WWX/Other(s), Past Relationship(s), Widower WWX, Grief/Mourning, Getting Together, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Stepfather WWX, WWX is the father who stepped up, LSZ is a Wei, Single Parent WWX, Asexual Character, Aromantic Relationship, Platonic Life Partners, it’s all in the past and only mentioned/discussed when relevant, Sex-Favorable Asexual WWX, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Modern, Past Character Death, Food Intake Related Medical Issue (not what you think))

🔒 Song of Divination by LittleSummary (M, 28k, WIP, WangXian, Single Parent WWX, Modern with Magic, Demonic Cultivation, Amnesiac WWX, Curses, Past Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Behavior, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, Canon JC, No JC & WWX Reconciliation, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, LSZ is a Wei, MXY is a Wei)

~*~

12. for the next itmf can i get some fics with xxc and wwx interaction please

(no omegaverse, breaking wangxian and please no xuexiao.)

Frost moon’s sun by RenaFair (T, 116k, WangXian, XXC/SL, Slow Build, Childhood Sweethearts, Angst and Feels, Fluff, Family Feels, Canon Divergence, Mentions of Smut, Attempt at Humor)

I Will Call You By Name by DisasterMages (T, 73k, WangXian, WWX raised by XXC, Canon Divergence, Family Feels)

🧡 Ghosts Shouldn’t by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 15k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ghosts Shouldn’t by ShanaStoryteller [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea))

Become Tomorrow by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 39k, WangXian, BSSR/LY, Alternate Universe, a story full of tragic pining gays, and one chaotic gremlin, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, WWX is BSSR’s disciple)

forces of attraction by bleuett (M, 20k, WangXian, SongXiao, Romantic Comedy, of sorts, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, au where wwx was raised by BSSR, Idiots in Love, Developing Relationship, Accidental Marriage, Sharing a Bed, everyone’s gay uncles sl and xxc, secret matchmaker lxc, Fluff, No War AU, Hand Jobs, lwj’s fight flight or fuck instincts, the inherent horniness of sword fighting, Happy Ending)

My heart knows (you’re the missing piece) by makexianxianhappytoday (T, 84k, WangXian, WWX & Jiang family, BSSR & WWX, Jiang Family Bashing, Canon Divergence, Rogue cultivator WW, JYL Bashing, WWX leaves Jiang sect, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, JC Bashing, Protective LWJ, Butterfly Effect, WWX deserves better, No Golden Core Transfer, Everyone Lives, unless they deserved it, if WWX plays around w BSSR does that make him her disciple???, WWX knows what self worth is, NHS is friends with WWX, Mastermind NHS, JZX is WWX's friend, Good brother LXC, LY is ALIVE, BAMF WWX, JYL redemption, Happy Ending)

~*~

13. Hello! 💕 Do you know any canon-compliant or canon-adjacent fanfics where WWX and LWJ are mostly aware of each other’s feelings and sexualities, but still struggle to talk about it or take things further physically (because of societal pressure and/or personal fears) ?

~*~

14. Hiya! I'm really curious if there are any fics which follow WWX finding out about LWJ finding out about the Golden Core. Ideally Hurt/Comfort, a real discussion about the burden of the transfer and WWX finally actually breaking down about it - if there's a JC WWX reconciliation that'd also be great.

Alternatively, when they're trapped with JGY in the temple, that reveal & its own discussion similarly! Thanks :) @lefttigerobservation

A Crying Shame by thunderwear (G, 16k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, A-yuan to the rescue, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Domestic Fluff, Love Confessions, First Kissa, LWJ joins WWX at burial mounds, LWJ is soft pass it on, literally all fluff, Marriage Proposal, Oblivious WWX)

🧡 a stone to break your soul, a song to save it by rikke ( M, 180k, WangXian, Arranged marriage, Canon Divergence, Hurt/comfort, Light angst, Canon typical violence)

every breath that comes before by tardigradeschool (T, 10k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Poison, Golden Core Reveal, Sharing a Bed, Hair Brushing, Angst with a Happy Ending, PTSD, WWX’s terrible self-esteem)

🔒 the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 110k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, /Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Disability, Scheming NHS, Disabled Character)

they who refuse to be blessed by sysrae (E, 7k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Whump, Golden Core Reveal, Developing Relationship, wwx can have a little scurvy, as a treat, Bathing/Washing, Confessions, Sharing a Bed)

~*~

15. Itmf fics where Qingheng-jun isn't a complete pos; stories where he comes out of seclusion early and is actually present in his sons' lives and tries to do right by them.

A Matter of Time by mrcformoso (E, 41k, wangxian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, LWJ goes crazy, Manipulation, Grooming, Except LWJ and WWX are physically the same age, but LWJ kept his 30 year old mind, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Conditioning, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Anal Fingering, WWX is a Lan, Minor Character Death, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiangs, Abusive Jiang Family, Jiang Family Bashing, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Horny WangXian, Qingheng-jun Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Lanling Jin Sect Bashing, Scheming NHS, Manipulative NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX, BAMF NHS, Burial Mounds Lore, Sentient Burial Mounds, Married WangXian, Adopted LSZ, Breathplay, Dark WWX, Yandere LWJ, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat)

🔒 In Which They Are (Not So) Secretly Married by panda_desu (T, 99k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Gender Changes, Genderswap, Female WWX, Secret Relationship, Secret Marriage, Implied Sexual Content, Implied dubcon, dual cultivation to fend off qi deviation, qi deviate or papapa, Family Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Supportive brother LXC, sunshot campaign doesn't happen, Everybody Lives, inaccurate wedding tradition, supportive brother JC, Intimacy, mention of menstruation, Girls talk, Historical Inaccuracy, Childbirth, Non-Explicit, Mention of Lactation) he comes out seclusion and tries to be better but he isn't perfect

An Unexpected Visitor by Hauntcats (G, 8k, Madam Lán/Qīnghéng-jūn, WangXian, not Jiang friendly, Not Jin Friendly, Fix-It of Sorts, Happy Ending, Child LWJ, Child WWX, Child LXC)

🧡 Resplendence by FrozenMarVel ( E, 194k, WIP, WangXian, JYL/JZX, JC/LXC, Different First Meeting, Love at First Sight, Fluff, Crossdressing, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Flirting, LXC is a Good Bro, Fix-It of Sorts, CSSR is a Badass Woman, courting, LXC Ships It, Because Wangxian is Horny for Each Other, Jealous LWJ, UST, Gusu Lan Disciples Ship It, Lan Dad comes out of seclusion, and tries to be a better father, Explicit Sexual Content, No angst allowed, LWJ is soft as rice to waifu, Warning for JGS and JZN, Additional pairings to be revealed as they fall in love with each other, BAMF everyone, descriptions of violence blood and mentions of graphic injuries, Warning for C, WWX’s canon ghost harem, Ghost Harem Ships It)

This time, together! by danny16doc (G; 157k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, Time Travel, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, No Golden Core Transfer, No Sunshot Campaign, Genius WWX, JFM and YZY Bashing)

how a smiling homeless child melted jade hearts and got a home by anxiouswreck0_0 (T, 41k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, WWX was adopted by the lans, lan WWX, pining WWX, Canon Divergence, LQR making questionable parenting choices, madam lan is a good parent, Fluff and Angst, Fix-It of Sorts, Childhood Friends, childhood fiances? Yes, Character Death, insecure WWX, slightly possessive WWX, Possessive LWJ, Not Everyone Dies, Dark LXC, OOC, Mild Gore, Explicit Language, Supportive LXC, Morally Ambiguous Character, Sassy WWX, WWX does not like the jins and it shows, clingy LWJ, mother hen LXC, Good LQR, Good Parent LQR, Good Parent QHJ)

My Immortal by Jaywalker_Holmes (M, 44k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage Sex) Qhj comes out of seclusion and is a pretty decent guy.

~*~

16. Hi! For ITMF please! Based off a rec in a recent ff I read "Flame and Rust" which featured dragon!Wei Wuxian and I would love more fics like that please! Thank you! @gloriousclotpole

🔒 River's Child by NonsensicalRambling (T, 80k, WangXian, JC & WWX & JYL, JYL/JZX, WQ/MM, Canon Divergence, Dragon WWX, Yunmeng Bros, Yunmeng Jiang Sect, No Golden Core Transfer, Good Sibling JC, Aromantic Asexual JC, Mpreg)

❤️ fell by you by Vrishchika (E, 44k, WangXian, Dragons, Dragon LWJ, Fantasy, Explicit Smut in Last Chapter, Pining, POV LWJ, Canon Divergence, Immortals, Deities, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragon WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending)

let me keep you close by jaws_3 (G, 5k, WangXian, 5 +1, Dragon WWX, Rabbit LWJ)

if you want, i'll become a tree by silver_aspen (G, 4k, WangXian, WQ & WWX, Golden Core Transfer, Dragon WWX, Sunshot Campaign)

Of Skin and Scales by firesonic152 (E, 21k, WangXian, Dragon WWX, Pining, Slow Burn, Miscommunication, Explicit Sexual Content, Bottom LWJ, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Size Difference)

a mouth so sharp and cruel by bavariansugarcookie (E, 7k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Cupid & Psyche Fusion, Arranged Marriage, YLLZ WWX, War Prize LWJ, Identity Porn, Sharing a Bed, Friends to Lovers, Identity Reveal, First Kiss, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Love Confessions, Dragon WWX, Everybody Lives)

Bound By These Familial Chains by Multifacetedinterests (E, 31k, WangXian, Dubcon adjacent, Hurt/Comfort, Dragon WWX, YLLZ WWX, Sacrifice LWJ, Dark Gusu Lan Sect, Collars, Curses, Curse of Obedience, Forced Servitude, Major Illness, Kidnapping, Secret Identity, Miscommunication, Bondage, Blindfolds, Anal Sex, Subtle Monsterfucking, Ambiguous/Open Ending)

~*~

17. ITMF: are there canon fics that show that LX is still young? Yes, he is the (future) sect leader but he has fears or wants to make fun of his younger brother or flirt. Fics that show stuff like this.

lan xichen by antebunny (G, 6k, LXC & LWJ, WangXian, LXC & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fluff, lxc needs friends, lxc is Tired, lxc is wangxian's #1 fan, drunk lxc, Getting Together, Cloud Recesses Study Arc)

Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious) which does an amazing job of showing Lan Xichen struggling with the responsibilities of becoming a sect leader so young. This one also does an amazing job of Lan Xichen’s transformation from a naive, too-trusting person into a person who can better evaluate situations involving manipulative individuals.

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[shardminds]

wip game!!!

Rules: you will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word

thanks to @thelov3lybookworm for the tag!!!!

my word was: FAMILY

Forgotten the lush fields, the roses swarmed in hedgerows, each more plump, more vibrant than the last; Forgotten the glint of sun on the crystal streams, lakes nestled under the shelter of willow trees, caught in morning sun’s infant glow; Forgotten every dream of escape, of bitten insult, patient violence corded in muscles meant for slaughter and nothing else.

- won't you tell me what it's like / feyre x lucien

“Azriel.” She muses over and over, almost absently, while flexing her unbound hands, rubbing feeling back into her arms. Azriel. Azriel. It sounds something like birdsong, like rainfall. A voice so clear and bright there’s no mistaking the alignment of her soul, a destiny decided for her. He flexes his fist to keep from reaching for her again, for her throat. He should replace the air from her lungs with smoke, savor bone and cartilage crumbling under his touch. Nails bite into his palm. His own.

- a sacrifice in your name (ch 3) / gwyn x azriel

The Middle wasn’t like Emerie had expected. The darkness was oppressive, sinking in from all sides, curled around gnarled tree roots like vines. It leeched the light from the stars, marred by crown shy branches and deep mists. A far cry from the crags and plateaus of Windhaven. Even then, there was a magic to it. A heavy weight that pulled and dragged at her bones. Calling her forward, demanding she retreat.

- mistakes you don't regret / gwyn x nesta x emerie

“I said what I said.” Contemplating something — perhaps logistics, knowing her — Nesta took a long, deliberate sip. Perpetual tactician of the party scene, if there’s anything Nesta Archeron could do, it’s get her way. “I’ve heard it’s lovely in Paris this time of year.”

- no more moving slow / elain x lucien

"Little Lucien, that's the best part," Dark laughter, warm and insidious, sank deep in his stomach. "He burns for as long as I want him to."

- untitled / lucien x [redacted]

"Your human ethics do not stretch to the lives of androids." He says, the speaker behind what serves for his tongue offering platitudes he's hardwired to believe. "We are neither human, nor do we die." Rhys scoffs, staring out at the expanse of space through the viewport on the far wall. Their only light that of a distant sun too far away to have a name worth remembering, and the blue glow from his incision. "Feels an awful lot like death to me."

- half algorithm, half deity / gwyn x azriel (219)

if anyone wants to try it out, your word is WISH.

[aeleonalien]

pasting a section of a sunwelt wip fic ive got here cuz if i bottle it up even more im going to loose it:

The volume of the television system has been lowered but the fizz and racket of two animated mechas locked in combat accompany Sunday’s blurred thoughts. Welt would have something insightful to say; he always does for every battle. Either some animator insider knowledge, fascination at the conviction behind each voiceline, or simply an expression of childlike giddiness unbound by any other technicality.

But for right now, the older man is fast asleep beside him on the couch, his body turned toward Sunday with an arm draped lazily over the other. Sunday can’t quite see Welt’s sleeping expression right now from how they’re positioned, his smaller figure tucked into Welt’s broad chest. He’s a subtle, woody fragrance paired with the floral notes of fresh laundry detergent. A stiffness in Sunday’s legs start to register, his circulation being only slightly cut off by the pressure exerted by Welt’s calf atop them. Though, he enjoys being molded like this.

Upon mindlessly tuning to the show for a few seconds, unable to find coherency in the amount of plot he’s missed, the flashing lights of the screen start to burn his eyes and Sunday turns his view upwards toward the ceiling. No matter, Welt would find him again tomorrow night in their mutual insomnia, and they’d rewatch from whatever point Sunday last recalls. They would watch, talk, fall asleep, intertwine, and one would awaken.

The two never discuss the entanglement of limbs they’d find themselves captured in. Never lingered on the pleasantness emanating from being able to hear the others' breaths and heartbeats so closely. They would each simmer and slumber in the other’s warmth, before being seemingly burned by the contact and coming to their senses.

And so, tonight was Sunday’s turn to rise and walk away from those unnecessary feelings. 

Yet as he turns away from where his head is tucked in the crook of Welt’s neck, the older man inhales deeply and flutters to consciousness. He always lets out a couple coughs before coming fully into himself, his body scrunching up into itself before settling. Was it the twitch of a feather that caught the man’s skin for just a moment? The natural shakiness that comes with realizing their composition? The loss of a familiar weight now severed from one’s being? Anyhow, that wise and silly man has been roused awake nonetheless, the two now forced to confront their closeness.

The bulky arms wrapped around Sunday’s body withdraw themselves, legs unweaving from Sunday’s, though the older man’s body remains pressed against Sunday’s side. Usual mannerisms, Sunday has noticed. Welt is always keenly aware of their proximity in waking hours. Always allowing him space.

“Headed out?” Welt asks after a groan. His voice is alert yet tired and hoarse; the side of his face has markings from where his glasses had been left on and pressed too hard from sleep. Sunday is charmed by how its crookedness frames his face.

Swallowing a quiver in his throat, Sunday says “Just changing positions for now. I’ll be out in a moment.”

(ive been stumped on the spicier portions later on helpppp, i need to fuel this rarepair >-<)

[theink-stainedfolk]

New WIP!!!

Crimson for the Lost

---

In the shadowed halls of an Tiānshuò empire, Murong Ruiqi, the poised heir of the powerful Murong clan, burns with a singular purpose: to dismantle the ruthless Yuwen faction and unmask the conspirators who murdered his closest friend. A master of both sword and strategy, Ruiqi moves through the imperial court with a quiet intensity, his warm brown eyes masking a heart hardened by grief. The Yuwens, led by the cunning Empress Dowager, tighten their grip on the throne, sowing discord and silencing their enemies with poison and steel. But Ruiqi is no mere noble—he is a ghost driven by a vow, wielding secrets as sharp as his blade.

Allied with the witty 4th Prince Ji Siyuan and the calculating Duanmu Zexuan, son of the Minister of Rites, Ruiqi navigates a treacherous web of courtly intrigue, where every smile hides a dagger. A cryptic clue—a blue jade pendant clutched close to his heart—hints at a deeper truth behind his friend’s death, one that could unravel the empire itself. As assassins strike and betrayals mount, a steadfast healer, Lan Xiu, offers Ruiqi solace amidst the chaos, his gentle presence stirring questions Ruiqi dares not answer. In a world where loyalty is a lie and vengeance a lifeline, can Ruiqi bring justice to the fallen, or will the shadows he hunts consume him first?

---

Character Introduction

Murong Ruiqi

Age: 23

Birthday: April 10

Zodiac Sign: Dragon

Ethnicity: Han Chinese (noble lineage of the Murong clan)

Height: 5’8”

Build: Lean, athletic, honed for combat and agility

Eyes: Warm mahogany brown, gentle yet observant, with a spark of curiosity

Hair: Jet-black, lustrous, tied in an elegant topknot with a jade hairpin engraved with the Murong crest (stylized cloud); falls past shoulders when unbound

Skin Tone: Polished ivory, smooth, reflecting a sheltered noble life

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Style: Opulent silk robes in crimson, emerald, or midnight blue, with intricate crane or peony embroidery; translucent outer layers catch the light. Wears a wide sash with a blue jade pendant and soft leather boots dyed to match his robes. A silver ring with the Murong seal adorns his finger.

Moodboard:

Colors: Deep crimson, jade green, midnight blue, silver

Textures: Silk, polished jade, smooth parchment

Imagery: Calligraphy brushes, blooming peonies, a ceremonial sword with mother-of-pearl, a moonlit pavilion, sandalwood incense smoke

Appearance:

Murong Ruiqi is the embodiment of noble refinement, his handsome face defined by sharp cheekbones, a straight nose, and a softly curved jawline that retains youthful charm. His warm brown eyes exude kindness, often crinkling with a playful glint during courtly banter. His jet-black hair, glossy and meticulously styled, is a mark of his status, secured with a jade hairpin. His movements are fluid and deliberate, carrying the grace of a scholar and the precision of a martial artist. A faint sandalwood scent clings to him, and his hands, lightly calloused from sword practice, are otherwise pristine, reflecting his privileged upbringing.

Past:

As the heir to the Murong clan, Ruiqi was raised in the lap of imperial luxury, trained in both scholarly arts and martial discipline. His life has been shaped by duty to his family, whose ties to the Empress bind them to the throne, and by a quiet yearning to understand those beyond his gilded world. A significant bond formed in recent years has redefined his purpose, though its details remain closely guarded.

Personality & Traits:

✔ Compassionate: Sees the humanity in everyone, from servants to rivals.

✔ Intelligent: A quick mind, adept at poetry, strategy, and courtly diplomacy.

✔ Empathetic: Feels others’ pain deeply but expresses it tactfully.

✔ Charismatic: Inspires loyalty with his warmth and quiet confidence.

✔ Dutiful: Honors his family’s legacy, even when it cages him.

✔ Reflective: Often lost in thought, questioning the world’s injustices.

✔ Restrained: Avoids unnecessary violence, wielding his sword only when needed.

Hobbies:

Composing poetry, often inspired by nature or fleeting moments.

Practicing calligraphy, crafting elegant scrolls for family archives.

Sword dancing, blending martial skill with artistic grace.

Reading philosophical texts, seeking wisdom beyond the court.

Quirks:

Adjusts his sleeves or hair when deep in thought.

Tilts his head slightly when listening intently, a sign of genuine interest.

Carries a small scroll in his sash, jotting down spontaneous verses.

Hums a soft melody when walking alone, a habit from childhood.

Likes & Dislikes:

✅ Likes:

The scent of rain on peonies.

Quiet evenings in the family pavilion.

The sound of a well-played guqin.

Honest conversations, rare in court.

The weight of his blue jade pendant, a personal talisman.

Watching the sunrise over the estate’s gardens.

❌ Dislikes:

Deceit and flattery in courtly politics.

The rigid expectations of nobility.

Cruelty disguised as justice.

Loud, ostentatious displays of wealth.

Cold, flavorless meals served at state banquets.

Being underestimated as merely a scholar.

Favorite Food:

Lotus seed soup with red dates.

Braised bamboo shoots with sesame oil.

Osmanthus cakes, delicate and floral, a childhood favorite.

A Line That Defines Him:

“My heart, a mirror, vows to sail with you.”

~~~

Lan Xiu

Age: 29

Birthday: September 18

Zodiac Sign: Rooster

Ethnicity: Han Chinese (rural commoner background)

Height: 5’6”

Build: Wiry, compact, honed by fieldwork and medical tasks

Eyes: Warm amber-brown, like sunlit honey, steady and reassuring

Hair: Dark brown, almost black, soft but less glossy, tied in a loose bun with a wooden pin; reaches upper back when loose, slightly tangled

Skin Tone: Fair with faint freckles and fine scars on hands, slightly weathered

Dominant Hand: Right

Style: Simple cotton or hemp robes in olive, taupe, or faded blue, often patched and herb-stained. Wears a leather belt with pouches for tools, herbs, and a notebook. Cloth or scuffed leather shoes and a hemp cord bracelet are his only adornments. Carries a satchel for medical supplies.

Moodboard:

Olive, taupe, faded blue, earthy brown, Worn cotton, rough hemp, dried herbs, A mortar and pestle, chrysanthemum petals, a worn notebook, a misty herb garden, a braided hemp cord

Appearance:

Lan Xiu’s pleasant, unassuming face—broad forehead, upturned nose, small kind mouth—radiates approachability, softened by faint freckles and a scarred eyebrow from a childhood mishap. His amber-brown eyes are warm and steady, calming even the most frantic patients. His dark brown hair, slightly messy, escapes its loose bun, framing his face after long hours. His wiry build moves with quiet efficiency, hands steady from years of grinding herbs and stitching wounds. He carries the scent of chrysanthemum, ginseng, and ink, grounding and unpretentious.

Past:

Born to rural herbalists, Lan Xiu learned healing in villages before serving as a field medic in border conflicts. His skills earned him a place in the imperial court, though he remains an outsider to its politics. A chance encounter years ago left a lasting mark, guiding his quiet mission to mend more than just bodies.

Personality & Traits:

✔ Gentle: Soothes with words and actions, never forceful.

✔ Observant: Notices subtle signs, from symptoms to emotions.

✔ Resilient: Faces crises with calm determination.

✔ Empathetic: Feels others’ pain as his own, offering solace.

✔ Practical: Focuses on solutions, not status.

✔ Steadfast: Unwavering in his duty, even at personal cost.

✔ Humble: Avoids the spotlight, content in the background.

Hobbies:

Brewing herbal teas, perfecting medicinal blends.

Sketching plants in his notebook for reference.

Wandering herb gardens, finding peace in nature.

Teaching village children basic remedies when visiting home.

Quirks:

Hums a folk tune when focused on work.

Brushes hair from his face absentmindedly while mixing herbs.

Scribbles notes in margins, even on unrelated papers.

Tugs at his hemp bracelet when anxious or reflective.

Likes & Dislikes:

✅ Likes:

The smell of damp earth after rain.

The quiet of an herb garden at dawn.

Honest, unpretentious people.

The warmth of a shared meal.

The feel of well-worn tools in his hands.

The sight of a patient’s recovery.

❌ Dislikes:

Wasteful extravagance in the palace.

Arrogance from nobles who dismiss his work.

Harsh, overpowering spices in food.

Crowds that disrupt his focus.

Deception that harms the vulnerable.

Cold, sterile rooms without greenery.

Favorite Food:

Spicy Sichuan-style noodles with chili oil and pork.

Grilled skewers with cumin and chili.

Herbal tea with honey.

A Line That Defines Him:

“As long as you breathe, you have a choice.”

~~~

Duanmu Zexuan

Age: 27

Birthday: March 3

Zodiac Sign: Rabbit

Ethnicity: Han Chinese (noble Duanmu lineage)

Height: 5’7”

Build: Slender, delicate, with a refined air that belies mental strength

Eyes: Dark, glossy brown, nearly black, piercing and analytical

Hair: Sleek, pitch-black, tied in a meticulous topknot with a silver lotus hairpin; falls to mid-back when unbound, always immaculate

Skin Tone: Pale, flawless, luminescent under candlelight

Dominant Hand: Left

Style: Tailored robes in soft colors (lavender, pale gray, teal) with phoenix or interlocking ring embroidery, reflecting ritual duties. Narrow-cut robes accentuate his slim frame, paired with a coral bead sash clasp and silk slippers. Wears a jade ring with the Duanmu seal.

Moodboard:

Lavender, teal, silver, coral, Smooth silk, polished coral, crisp parchment, A silver lotus hairpin, an ink-stained scroll, a ceremonial altar, white orchids, a moonlit study

Appearance:

Duanmu Zexuan is elegance personified, his refined features—high cheekbones, narrow nose, thin lips—carrying an almost ethereal quality. His dark, nearly black eyes pierce through facades, framed by arched eyebrows that lend an imperious yet softened expression. His sleek black hair is meticulously styled, never a strand out of place, reflecting his disciplined nature. His movements are precise, every gesture calculated, and his slim frame moves silently through palace halls. He carries the delicate scent of white orchid and ink, a nod to his scholarly and ceremonial roles.

Past:

As the son of the Minister of Rites, Zexuan was groomed for courtly precision, mastering rituals, diplomacy, and the art of influence. His life has been a careful dance of maintaining his family’s prestige amidst rival factions. A recent tragedy has left him shaken, fueling his resolve to uncover hidden truths in the court.

Personality & Traits:

✔ Sharp-Minded: Dissects motives with surgical precision.

✔ Elegant: Embodies grace in appearance and manner.

✔ Calculating: Plans several moves ahead in political games.

✔ Loyal: Devoted to those he trusts, though slow to trust.

✔ Reserved: Keeps emotions tightly controlled, revealing little.

✔ Perceptive: Notices subtleties others overlook.

✔ Resilient: Bounces back from setbacks with renewed focus.

Hobbies:

Drafting ceremonial protocols, finding order in tradition.

Practicing archery, a disciplined outlet for focus.

Studying ancient texts on court etiquette.

Arranging orchids, a quiet ritual for calm.

Quirks:

Clasps hands behind his back when listening intently.

Purses lips slightly when skeptical or displeased.

Adjusts his hairpin when deep in thought.

Pauses mid-sentence to choose words with care.

Likes & Dislikes:

✅ Likes:

The scent of fresh ink on parchment.

Quiet, orderly libraries.

The elegance of a well-planned ceremony.

Subtle, meaningful gestures of loyalty.

The soft glow of candlelight.

Refined teas with floral notes.

❌ Dislikes:

Chaos or disruption in rituals.

Overt displays of aggression.

Dishonest flattery or manipulation.

Heavy, greasy foods that dull the senses.

Being rushed or pressured into decisions.

Unkempt appearances in court.

Favorite Food:

Steamed lotus root stuffed with glutinous rice.

Chrysanthemum tea cakes.

Poached pears in honey.

A Line That Defines Him:

“Truth hides in the spaces between words.”

~~~

Ji Siyuan

Age: 24

Birthday: July 22

Zodiac Sign: Monkey

Ethnicity: Han Chinese (imperial lineage)

Height: 5’9”

Build: Lean, well-proportioned, suited for courtly grace rather than combat

Eyes: Deep, rich brown, like aged lacquer, with a lively, mischievous glint

Hair: Jet-black, thick, slightly wavy, tied in a high, neat topknot with a gold dragon-shaped hairpin; reaches just past shoulders when loose

Skin Tone: Smooth, fair, unmarred, reflecting royal privilege

Dominant Hand: Right

Style: Layered silk robes in muted imperial colors (indigo, burgundy, charcoal) with subtle cloud or bamboo embroidery; crisp white inner robe for purity. Wears a wide sash with a jade disc pendant and polished black leather boots. Carries a painted folding fan with a minimalist landscape, used for gestures and subtle defense.

Moodboard:

Colors: Indigo, burgundy, gold, white, Smooth silk, polished jade, lacquered wood, A folding fan with ink-painted mountains, a golden dragon hairpin, a sunlit palace courtyard, citrus pomanders, cedarwood incense

Appearance:

Ji Siyuan exudes a scholarly charm, his handsome face softened by rounded cheekbones, a gently sloping nose, and an expressive mouth that curves into an easy, disarming smile. His deep brown eyes sparkle with cleverness, framed by straight, upward-tilted eyebrows that give him a perpetually curious look. His jet-black hair, slightly wavy, is neatly styled in a topknot, with loose strands occasionally tucked behind his ear. His relaxed grace and open gestures make him approachable, though his sharp mind is evident in the flicker of his gaze. He carries a faint cedarwood-citrus scent, blending palace incense with a southern gift.

Past:

Born as the 4th Prince, Ji Siyuan was raised in the imperial palace, trained in diplomacy and strategy but spared the intense scrutiny of the crown prince. His wit and kindness have made him a favorite among allies, though his distance from the throne allows him freedom to forge genuine bonds. A recent loss has sharpened his resolve, drawing him into a dangerous game of courtly intrigue.

Personality & Traits:

✔ Clever: Quick-witted, adept at reading people and situations.

✔ Kind: Genuinely cares for others, even across class divides.

✔ Charismatic: Wins trust with humor and warmth.

✔ Strategic: Hides his sharp mind behind a playful demeanor.

✔ Loyal: Fiercely devoted to those he calls friends.

✔ Optimistic: Finds light even in dark times, though not naïve.

✔ Adaptable: Navigates court politics with ease, bending without breaking.

Hobbies:

Playing the erhu, crafting soulful melodies in private.

Strategizing over weiqi (Go), honing his tactical mind.

Collecting rare teas from southern provinces.

Sketching landscapes on his fan, a quiet creative outlet.

Quirks:

Taps his fan against his palm when pondering or teasing.

Winks conspiratorially during private conversations.

Hums a cheerful tune when nervous, masking unease.

Adjusts his jade pendant absentmindedly during debates.

Likes & Dislikes:

✅ Likes:

The sound of rain on palace tiles.

Banter with trusted friends.

The aroma of jasmine tea.

Open courtyards bathed in sunlight.

Clever riddles and wordplay.

Festivals with vibrant lanterns.

❌ Dislikes:

Hypocrisy in courtly flattery.

Cold, formal ceremonies.

Bitter foods that spoil his mood.

Being confined to the palace for too long.

Dishonesty, even if strategic.

Heavy, restrictive robes.

Favorite Food:

Sweet red bean buns.

Grilled fish with ginger.

Lychee sorbet, a rare imperial treat.

A Line That Defines Him:

“Laughter hides a blade, but loyalty sharpens it.”

---

My ♡s: @paeliae-occasionally @willtheweaver @drchenquill @wyked-ao3 @the-inkwell-variable @corinneglass @seastarblue @keeping-writing-frosty @oliolioxenfreewrites @vesanal @orphanheirs @dauntlessdraupadi @oros-ash3s @pheonix358 @loveyouloatheyou @write-with-will

[eilinelsghost]

Word-Find WIP Game

Thanks to @sallysavestheday for the tag! This is one of my favorite tumblr games, I think.

My words are: sky, distant, taste, and red.

Sky From Atandil 22: All of Gold Woven (hopefully emerging at some point this spring. send help. and muses.) Balan is back to his favorite pasttime: reciting Atani mythology:

And lo! when Iuthap leapt in dance through the firmament, and Luftu and Satheweis sang in the air, when Melishk and Guënid drew life from the loam, Vris gathered the Dark of the timeless about him and slipped down thus shrouded like a cloud through the sky. As he passed, Iuthap’s light was darkened at midday, obscured like a stain o’er the midst of the sun. Day turned to night as he ran laughing onward. Clay cracked and hardened, water slowed into ice.

Distant I didn't have "distant," so I used "distance" instead. This also comes from Atandil 22 and picks up the morning after Blade's Peril:

His son looked up at the sound of the latch and Balan faltered as shame scraped against his spirit, their previous night’s quarrel once more fresh in his mind. But Baran’s gaze was mild and he straightened, holding out the cup like a peace offering and his father moved tentatively to cross the distance between them.

Taste From a future conversation (quite a few installments down the line) between Finrod and Balan:

“Our people judged the world began with the sun’s rising and yet I look upon thee each day and see that which was long before it. I take thee in my arms and hold to me that which was before any of us, I kiss thee and taste one that shall see the final ending of all. How should I not be terrified?"

Red Once again, a snippet from Atandil 22:

While he spoke, he saw his son’s eyes drift to the scar stretching over the king’s shoulder, where the mottled red and pink had left an eloquent tale scrawled across the pale flesh. There was a brief tightening of Baran’s jaw as its origin dawned on him and Balan felt an unaccountable discomfort at the other’s revelation. The scars begotten in that skirmish had grown sacred somehow, intimate in his memory—the wound whose blood had soaked through his own tunic in the close press of the other’s embrace, the faint white line lingering across the back of his hand where one cord had cut deep, where Nóm had unbound the linen wrapping and cradled the hand within his own…

Tagging @thelordofgifs, @that-angry-noldo, @swanmaids, @thescrapwitch, and @emyn-arnens if this sounds fun! Your words are rain, tree(s), billow, and fled.

[mundo-mundoposting-as-usual]

I am intrigued by your madman fellow. Is there any kind of gameplay concept- skills and paths, or even just a general role- or do they exist purely as a character?

((DISCLAIMER- Madman is thought to fit in both dd1 and dd2 since i like to mishmash both games together since while i like some things from 2 i highly favor stuff like different states of virtues and afflictions as well as the camping mechanics etc. I'll enter into more detail about this version of the game if asked/whenever i feel like i need to mention it in the future.)) Oh boy do I have CONCEPTS. There is a LOT of stuff I'm working on for them that's still very very very rough around the edges, that being a 3d model, general lore and shrine of reflection story, skills, trinkets and mechanics and while there's no paths for now i plan on also thinking about them when I'm done with the skills (since i'm missing some + need to tweak the ones I thought of.) As mentioned things are MESSY and I'm also not the best at balancing and thinking things through so take it all with a grain of salt. VERY LONG POST UNDER CUT WITH EVERYTHING I HAVE AS OF RIGHT NOW.

STORY-

ORIGINS LOOK-

Madman/Raymond has 2 different Origins looks, one of when they were a merchant and one that looks exactly the same as how it is now but rather than a cage head it's a shame maks in the shape of a dog/wolf. Merchant look + shirtless, they ripped their own chest off as an act of defiance when they weren't wearing a straitjacket still, after miraculosly surviving it (madman thinks it was a sign that the light accepted its suffering for final redemption) they were locked up for good

SHRINE OF REFLECTION-

Some extra commentary about it between me and @zettaaznec (who also made these insanely cool sketches):

ABILITIES-

I'm missing a bunch of them and some of these might not even be the starting ones. They are MEANT to be a bad unit to bring along because i think that's funny. They favor being at the front of course. Whatever you do bring Jester along, holy stress fest. (I'm too bad at numbers to put down proper ones :') ) TRINKETS-

Madman's trinkets are Home (their old shame mask) and an unnamed pile of notes/papers that are its old merchant route/logs/notes :) They also release a special trinket on death that is just the padlock that's attached to their cage (from barks when at death's row it asks for the cage to be removed when dying, this is just a hint at one final act of kindness) Madman's Padlock item drawn yet again by Zetta:

3D MODEL-

Still a super early WIP, only front facing sketch available

2D SPRITES-

Maybe one day! I do plan on at least having some of them drawn, animating them is outside my capabilities but it'd be fun :)

BARKS-

I have a few ideas for them but given the length of the task (writing all of them + making sure they fit Madman's speaking habits) i have nothing to show for it yet, only loose ideas.

EXTRA FACTS-

Their model is almost always shown with the arms bound, only appearing unbound at the Inn or when Camping

Their barks become fully normal sentences when afflicted (Irrational only) FINAL-

I really want to discover how this character interacts with the other heroes, it's been a very fun experience to work through the details and while I have ideas and lore for Bigby, Sarmenty, Dismas, Runaway, Bounty Hunter and especially Leper I want to clink him with the others too.

[whovianofmidgard]

WIP Wednesday

A bit if maemags I'm working on for Day 7 of Maedhros and Maglor week. Here is Mae implementing step 3 of his 5-ish step plan on how to seduce his brother:

Maitimo knew he was making a spectacle out of himself. Responsible and always put together Maitimo, usually up before any of his brothers and ready to help his parents wrangle them for the day, had come in later than everyone. But what was truly noteworthy was how he was dressed. Flaming locks of hair tumbled over his shoulders, unbound and in an artful disarray, like he had just rolled out of bed. Clothed still in his rumpled nightrobes, not a single piece of jewellery to be found on his person.

Makalaurë blinked at him from across the table, a confused little frown marring his handsome face. However, Maitimo noted with silent gratification, that his sweet brother’s eyes did not leave his person.

“Nelyafinwë,” Fëanáro sternly addressed his son. “I do hope you will present yourself in something more respectable at your grandfather’s court today.”

“Of course, Atar,” Maitimo said while he piled some food onto his plate.

“I seem to have lost myself studying the latest trade proposals and have stayed up far into the light of Telperion,” here he stifled a convincing yawn, the collar of his nightrobe slipping down to reveal a patch of naked shoulder with the movement of his hand coming up to cover his mouth. It did not miss his notice how Makalaurë’s eyes followed the fabric’s downward path, nor the way he shook his head as if shaking himself out of a daydream to quickly avert his gaze.

“I apologise for mismanaging my time, Atar. I will make sure not to wake so late next time.”

“As long as you don’t show up to the council meeting without braids who am I to judge,” Fëanáro said, easily accepting Maitimo’s explanation.

“That’s right, your father knows all about late Telperion projects,” Nerdanel chimed in. “And so does Atarinkë. You don’t like bedtime either, don’t you, baby?”

Maitimo let his mother’s babytalk fade into the background, and shifted his focus on the target of all his charade. As breakfast resumed with the natural ebb and flow of conversation around him, Makalaurë was humouring Carnistir by half listening to his plans for the day. That was easily remedied, and the family minstrel could multitask better than the rest of them anyway, Maitimo thought.

He tossed a few strands of red hair behind his back, making it seem like just a simple absent-minded gesture. With Makalaurë sitting right across from him it worked wonderfully. The moving bright colour caught his eye, and he was met the smooth exposed skin of his elder brother’s neck, the rippling motion of the neck muscles’ path as Maitimo swallowed a bite from his breakfast, the supple curve of it from the tilt of Maitimo’s head trailing down to his bare shoulder where the robe was still slipping, bunching up around the crook of his elbow.

Makalaurë attempted to respectfully look away, but Maitimo would not let him get away that easily.

“Káno, would you pass me the pastries?” he asked pleasantly, pretending to be absorbed in finishing up the last bites of his eggs and toast.

Makalaurë wordlessly grabbed the tray of pastries on the table that, being seated face to face, exactly across from each other, was an equal distance from both of them, and slid it closer to Maitimo’s side.

“Thank you,” Maitimo said, and selected a cream puff, biting it in half.

White fluffy cream oozed out from the sides of the pastry shell that clung to Maitimo’s fingers. He ate the rest, and making sure Makalaurë’s eyes were still on him, he slowly licked the cream off his thumb with a sensual flick of his tongue.

Makalaurë froze in his seat, eyes growing as wide as two silver coins.

Maitimo, acting like he didn’t notice his brother staring at him in shock, continued to clean off his hand and pushed his cream-stained pointer finger in his mouth. And then sucked.

An involuntary shiver ran through Makalaurë’s body from head to toe. He then froze again as Maitimo looked straight at him from under his eyelashes, his finger gradually retreating from his mouth. His elder brother’s tongue darted out to chase after his glistening wet finger all while their eyes were locked in a heated stare.

Then Maitimo dealt the final blow, with his mouth lifting into a sweet smile, and a breathless sigh escaped his brother’s lips.

They looked at each other for long as they came to a standstill. Like two bugs caught in amber, the air between them as thick as tree resin and full of tension, and Maitimo found himself gladly getting lost in the glittering pools of starlight in his brother’s eyes.

“Boys, if you cannot eat and ósanwë at the same time then perhaps there should be less ósanwë and more eating at the table!”

Ah... perhaps Maitimo had gotten too lost there. That was definitely not part of the plan.

“Yes, Ammë,” both he and Makalaurë chorused at the same time, the minstrel taking the opportunity to make a quick escape.

Maitimo finished up his breakfast at a more sedate pace before leaving to properly dress for the day’s court, ideas for his next temptation swirling in his mind on his way.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

WIP Word Game

Thank you to the bestie, @jsmelodies for the tag! For funsies, I've tried to pick a different fic for each letter of the word you gave me, DANCE!

Rules: you will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word.

D --

"Definitely missed you saying my name like that." He draws his mouth back to hers, kissing her slow and deep. Nesta's pulse starts to flutter, and she swears Cassian must be able to feel where it pounds beneath his palm where his large hand still spans across her jaw. She feels dizzy with the way Cassian kisses her, the sensuality of it, the way his tongue presses into her mouth and curls around her own. When he pulls back again, his hands reach for her hair. Nesta can't decide if she should be surprised or touched that he still knows exactly where to find every pin in buried amongst the golden brown strands. He tugs each one free until her hair tumbles down her shoulders and along her spine, the strands whispers against her cheek as they fall.

A --

Are you awake? The parchment disappears, carried away by whatever magic is imbued in it. Nesta blinks a few times at the empty space left behind. Already, she can feel regret threatening to bubble up her throat, threatening to twist like barbs through her chest. At least she's confident that she won't get a response. She confident that no one in Velaris is awake at this hour except for her. In the morning, in the light of the day, she'll be able to brush this away, to deflect and— The parchment appears again in exactly the same place, fresh lines of neat, black ink written just beneath her own. She supposes that she should expect such rigid handwriting from a General, but it still takes her by surprise. Almost as surprising as the quick response. Are you alright?

N --

"No," Nesta whispers, that ringing in her ears growing to a full roar. "No no no." She's sure that everyone must be looking at her, sure that they must be saying something, but in that moment, everything seems to stop. It's like the world stop spinning right beneath her feet, like everything fades to silence and black, and in that moment, Nesta swears that she can even feel the blood in her veins pausing. Suddenly, she can't breathe, the pressure in her chest too great, a jagged icy grip tearing her heart and lungs into bloody ribbons. Pain flares through her knees before she even realizes they've given out, before she even realizes she's collapsed, hands reaching out to her to hold her steady. Someone is screaming, and it takes Nesta a moment too long to realize it's her, her throat burning and raw from it. Her trembling fingers claw desperately at her skin. She feels like she's going to be sick, stomach twisting and churning.

C --

Cassian throws a punch against the bag, watching as the dummy sways slightly with the force of it. The familiar pain cascades through his knuckles, up through his wrist and his arm, the familiar fire licking through his veins. He shifts his stance and throws another punch, quickly following it up with a defensive jab with his forearm. He keeps working through the combination until his chest starts to heave with the effort, until sand begins to trickle from the bag from the repeated beating. He takes a step back, using the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, dragging the fabric down his skin. He tugs at the wrappings around his wrists, flexing his fingers and shaking out his hands when they're finally free and unbound. Rolling his shoulders, he turns toward where his water sits, but he's surprised to find Nesta standing just outside the training ring.

E --

"Excuse me," Nesta starts when they reach the open seats. "Is anyone sitting here?" The man turns his head, and Nesta gets her first look at the man's face. At the white stitched emblem of the Spirit in his baseball cap. At a kaleidoscope of greens and golds that make up a pair of bright hazel eyes. At dark wire glasses framing those eyes. At stubble lining the man's cheeks and jawline. His gaze sweeps down and up again, a slow and leisurely perusal of her, before an easy, cocksure smile tugs across his face. "You are now," he tells her, his voice low and smooth.

I feel like I've seen everyone already be tagged or do this fun tag game 😔 so I'm tagging everyone. If you want to participate and need an excuse, this is it! Say I tagged you! And your word is COMPASS

[uncertainwallflower]

MAIDEN'S TEARS

So...I may or may not be writing a little mythology for The Hawthorn Blowëth Sweetest (my fantasy Jily WIP). And I've decided to post some of it since it would otherwise never see the light of day and will probably barely get a mention in the fic.

This piece is meant to explain the warm waters of the Gulf Stream.

Once upon a time, a young maiden’s lover drowned while swimming in the Deep Sea with his three brothers. When the beautiful maiden heard the sorry news, she ran to the shore claiming she would find him. After hours of searching the freezing shoal, she collapsed upon the stones, soaking her skirts and unbound tresses and turning her skin bright blue. For three days and three nights, she cried. On the fourth day, a traveller appeared at the end of the shore. He grew closer and closer ‘til the sun reached its peak and he sat down beside her in the shoal. He urged her to return to the village where she would find a handsome suitor with troves of riches and jewels and lands. The suitor, he said, would bring her endless happiness and make her forget her lover. If she would not go, he warned, she would remain forever, shivering in the waves and crying for her lost lover. But she would not go, for she had sworn to love the boy for eternity, and so the traveller rose and carried on down the shore, never to be seen again, and the beautiful maiden remained in the shallow, foamy waters, eyes flowing with hot tears that warmed the seas forevermore.

[emmg]

Did you write that Elgar’nan/Lavellan thing yet? Asking for a friend 👀 (the friend is me) and if not fully can you share a wip for the starving masses? I may or may not have reread pretty bait several times oops

Yeah, let's not talk or mention my earlier writing lol. Doesn’t exist. Never happened. That’s all ancient history, like some cursed artifact I’m this close to chucking into a digital volcano. One day, I’m just gonna snap, delete the whole lot off ao3, and purge my soul of the cringe that is my old writing. The pre-2023 stuff? Especially cursed. It’s a miracle I haven’t rage-quit and wiped it from the face of the earth yet.

But as far this particular thing is concerned—not finished I'm afraid and I'm not entirely sure when it will be since I'm still trying to piece together the plot I want it to have. If you want to brainstorm with me, be my guest and slide into my dms. Rn I'm just trying to figure out a reason for keeping up the veil with Solas trapped inside because I'm not killing the egg lol

But yeah sure, here's an excerpt that features him and a very angry Ellana below the cut lol

She will carve a path through every Venatori fool enough to fall under his spell. She’ll slit one’s throat, string another up like a butchered animal, disembowel the next—and when she reaches Elgar'nan, she’ll fucking stab him. She’ll carve him into ribbons, strip him bare, stretch every piece of his skin in the sun to dry. She’ll keep him alive, make him watch, force him to witness as she devours him piece by piece, the way the Veil now feasts on Solas. 

She will be rage unbound. She will be a blood-soaked revolution. 

He may have pulled the sun from the heavens in Dalish legends, may have been the first light of creation itself, but she will shatter him. She will break his bones, drink his blood, make him feel the hollow ache of ten years of endless, aching want. Ten years spent searching, only to find Solas, touch him, and watch the Fade claim him once more. Watch him wither, watch him fracture, watch lives fall around him like leaves. Ten years, ten years— 

"Perhaps," Emmrich ventures, wringing his hands, glancing between them, "Magister Pavus and I should speak to the Evanuris alone. You need rest." 

She knows what he truly means. Someone ought to separate Dorian and Inquisitor Lavellan—she’d overheard him murmuring it to Harding before they set out. And he’s not wrong. They’re poison to each other like this, feeding off each other’s anger, each other’s sorrow, locked in a spiral that can only lead to ruin.

But she doesn’t care. And Dorian doesn’t care either. They don’t even glance at each other as they stride toward that garish table, its every detail designed to dazzle and offend, where Elgar'nan lounges like a king, already assuming his victory. Behind him looms Ghilan'nain, a monstrous shadow of her own making. Her very presence chills the air; she’s a nightmare incarnate, Blight oozing from her wounds, staining her blackened eyes, twisting her form into something no longer natural. Just seeing her is enough to freeze the blood. A true horror. 

"You, I know of," Elgar'nan says, his voice slow and serpentine, each syllable unfurling as he points a jewel-encrusted finger toward her. "The Inquisitor, they call you. Child of my children, lover of Fen'Harel." 

His gaze drifts to Dorian. "You, however, remain a mystery, an unfamiliar face amidst this tangled web, though you do carry the stench of this land deep in your bones." 

Finally, he turns to Emmrich. "And you—I’ve seen you trailing behind the wolf's little disciple. Both of them, wandering the Fade now, yes?" he asks, feigning innocence, every word dripping with the sickly-sweet pleasure of a man who already knows every detail, who has woven the strings and now watches them dance. 

"Sit," Elgar'nan says, sweeping his hand in a grand, careless gesture. "Be my guests." 

Reluctantly, she does. Wine stands between them—a full carafe, glasses set out in some mockery of hospitality. She doesn’t hesitate. She pours a glass for herself, another for Dorian. They both drink, empty their glasses, and drink again, as Emmrich sighs, and Elgar'nan watches, one eyebrow arched, amused but silent. 

The first hazy edge of inebriation tugs at her, and she clears her throat. 

"Well then," Emmrich begins, doing his best to sound diplomatic. "We are, of course, very grateful that you have not torn down the Veil. Naturally, we must discuss what your… ahem… arrival means for Thedas as a whole. I hope you understand that our reality diverges from yours, and while I sympathize with your loss of—" 

Elgar'nan raises a hand, wincing, cutting through Emmrich’s stream of words. "It will come down," he snaps, dismissive. "Once it finishes draining the Dread Wolf. Make no mistake, mage." 

Ghilan'nain’s tendrils twist and coil around the back of Elgar’nan’s throne like snakes, furling and unfurling in an eerie, silent rhythm. Her head tilts, but she doesn’t speak. 

"And who do you belong to?" Elgar'nan asks, his gaze gliding over her. "I see no markings on your face. Whose sigil did you wear?" He gestures idly, as if this were merely a tiresome ritual. "A simple formality before we proceed. You see, in my time, we respected the boundaries of one another’s possessions. ‘Meddle not, take not’—a matter of decorum," he finishes with a careless shrug, as if such notions were etched into the very fabric of existence and she, too dumb, has somehow forgotten them. 

To him, she is nothing more than property unclaimed, an object waiting to be sorted into its proper place. 

"Not yours," she snaps, feeling for the first time like the dog he’s trying to make her. "Your vallaslin was too damn ugly. No one wanted that marring their skin." 

She watches Dorian lean back, cross his legs, and swirl his wine with a disconcerting casualness. "Ellana," he says, his tone light, far too light. "Your people hail from the Dales, do they not?" 

"Many elves do," she replies. 

"Splendid," Dorian says, a wry smile creeping onto his face. "Perhaps we could extend these two," he gestures grandly toward Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, "a polite invitation to fuck right off back there. Tevinter has enough tyrants as it is." 

She hums, considering. "I was thinking somewhere a bit more permanent myself." 

"Oh? Do enlighten me." 

"Into the fucking abyss," she says with a shit-eating grin. 

Elgar'nan’s gaze sharpens, the amusement fading. "You are the first of your kind to speak to your creators in such a manner," he remarks, coldly. "It is unbecoming." 

She shrugs, rolling one shoulder. "Unfortunately, I have no more fucks left to give," she says. "What about you, Dorian?" 

Dorian makes a grand show of it, looking around as if he might find some hidden reserve of care—patting himself down, peering into his pockets, even reaching into the folds of his vest. He lets out a theatrical sigh, throwing up his hands. "Alas, I seem to be freshly out as well," he laments. "A tragedy, really." 

She’s hated before. She’s hated many people in her life—mostly because hate comes easily to her. Righteousness was never her compass, just a habit formed by the good intentions of others pulling her toward the right choice. Her instinct was always for the simple path, the selfish one. But this hatred, the hatred she feels for Elgar’nan, is different. It’s new, raw, pulsing. She stares at him as he lounges there, head resting on a closed fist, his gilded, horned crown catching the light, the brightness almost blinding her, tangling with the gray of his hair. She’s glad he’s sitting—if he stood, she wouldn’t be able to reach that face, ageless and ancient, to claw it off. 

She slams her glass against the edge of the table, shattering it with a sharp crack. Her hand closes around the jagged shard, fingers gripping tight. She doesn’t care—she lunges across the table, every fiber of her body coiled and ready, her focus narrowed to a single, blinding point. 

Ten years. Ten years she’s played the diplomat, the peacekeeper, the politician. Ten years of forced smiles, of patience, all to find Solas. At first, she wondered if he would even want her when she found him, but that worry faded. Her desire didn’t matter—she didn’t have any right to his want. She’d made peace with the idea that she’d be alone even if she found him. But she wanted to speak with him, to hold his hand just once more, maybe embrace him. Even if he walked away after, she would have that, she would have closure. 

Ten years. Ten years for fucking nothing. 

She makes it all the way to his throat before anyone moves, her grip so tight on the shard that her hand is slick with blood—hers, his, she can't tell, and she doesn't care. His collar is high, stiff, his armored robes a fortress of pomp and arrogance, but she jabs the glass forward anyway, feeling it scrape as she hunts for bare skin. Voices shout behind her, someone catches her ankle— 

Then her face is slammed against the table. 

Dazed, she catches a glimpse of his wrist—Elgar'nan’s wrist—before a hand grips the back of her neck, smashing her head down again into the wood. 

"A mutt and his bitch, snarling and snapping," he hisses as he grinds her face against the table’s surface. "Where is your civility, Inquisitor? Where is your respect?" His grip tightens, fury leaking into his voice, his breath hot against her ear. "For all his faults, let me tell you this—Fen'Harel knew how to wield his wrath. He was always precise, always ceremonious."

He lifts her just to slam her down again, harder, his voice coiling with rage. Wine splashes over, the carafe cracks, its fragrance mingling with blood in the air. "The wolf bared his teeth only when cornered," he spits, voice cutting, disdain smoldering beneath each syllable. "His tongue was honeyed, his words weapons, chosen to tear and gut as sharply as any blade." He presses down on her harder. "A mastery you, it appears, utterly lack." 

She knows this is madness. She knows it’s reckless, short-sighted, utterly stupid. She knows Solas had no choice but to trap these monsters in the Fade—it was all he could do, all anyone could do. She knows Elgar’nan bleeds Blight, that the poison is woven into him, that he’s made of something ancient and wrong, something that defies names. 

She knows it, feels it like iron shackles around her chest. And yet none of it matters. Not here, not now. Somehow, this shard of glass in her bare hand—not the one that once held the Anchor, now made of brass and runes, but her flesh and blood hand—feels like the only weapon she’ll ever need, the one that will end him. 

She sees his other hand, the one not holding her by the neck, and with a wild thrust she drives the glass through it. Blood splatters across the table, black and thick, seeping into the wood. He snarls, some foul curse in that ancient, broken language, and his grip falters, just for a moment. 

Then a pair of arms is around her, dragging her back. It's Dorian, pulling her out of the reach of Elgar’nan’s claws. He’s beside her, staff flashing, blocking one of Ghilan’nain’s writhing tendrils, lightning crackling at its tip. He’s shouting, furious, words spilling out rough and raw, not at her, but at them. If anything, she realizes, he’s spurring her on, his voice cutting through the red haze of her rage. 

“…the barest taste of what you deserve!” he’s sneering. “Come a bit closer, why don’t you? You’ve got a few too many limbs for my liking, you eldritch monstrosity.” 

[floralmusings]

Tag Game: Character Profile

Rules: fill out the information for one of your OCs!

Thank you for the tag @tildeathiwillwrite!

I will be doing this for Lucerne, the secondary protagonist of Unbound By The Light, as they are deserving of a lot of characterisation and context.

It is a bit long though, so if you're interested, read below the cut!

I will be tagging @melpomenelamusa, @transman-badass, @the-atlantis-project, and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it - if so, please tag me in it! On the other side of that, let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in these.

Full Name: Lucerne

Nickname: Torch, by Hazel

Species: Faceless One

Age: Unknown

Gender: Non-Binary

Appearance: Lucerne stands at 5’7, with shoulder length brown hair that would be considered filthy by most standards, and lightly tanned skin. A black mask wraps around their face, obscuring their features and sings with the low hum of holy light.

Occupation: Servant of Vigil, Goddess of Dawn

Family: Biological ; Unknown

Pets: None

Best Friend: Eventually, Ashaveth Olenna

Describe their room: They don’t have a room, but if they did, they’d want to fill it with all manner of creative things - of notebooks and sketchbooks and books on every subject they care to imagine, after having spent so long carrying the bare minimum, they would struggle with letting things go. It would be incredibly neat, but Ash would convince them that it’s okay to leave things out every now and then - no one is going to punish them for doing otherwise.

Way of speaking: Lucerne hasn’t spoken in years and so struggles to verbally communicate, opting to use sign language where possible - something that Ash taught them. On the few occasions they do speak, it is in a rough, low tone, utilising the least amount of words to say the most possible.

Physical Characteristics (posture, gestures, attitude): Lucerne tends to curl in towards themselves, leaving little opportunity for others to get close, eyes always scattered, looking for the next threat - they’re constantly on the move and so their general attitude is that of distrust. But when Vigil takes control of them, their mask burns brighter and brighter, and their posture becomes impeccably straight and each movement precise and coordinated.

Items in their bag/purse: Lucerne keeps very few items on them besides the essentials, but have picked up along their travels a misshapen dagger that they stole from the body of a would-be assailant, as well as a very tattered book on local flowers and herbs, annotated in a child’s handwriting.

Hobbies: Although they struggle to find enough respite and downtime to enjoy such creature comforts like hobbies, they have taken to drawing in the empty spaces of that book next to the child’s handwriting, as taught by Hazel. Their dexterity is poor and as a result, so is their penmanship, but they try.

Favorite sport: If they were to enjoy a sport, it would likely be equestrian riding - if they weren’t immediately spooked by their presence.

Abilities/talents/powers: Contrary to lore and legend, Lucerne seems to be lacking many of the gifts supposedly bestowed upon Servants by their Goddess, though the few they do maintain is their ability to recover from near any wound if in a place of worship and their uncanny reaction time. Their only ability that isn’t mentioned in any hymn or tome, is that of consciousness - free will.

Relationships (how they are with other people): Lucerne has very poor social skills, largely due to only gaining consciousness a few years ago, waking in a forest to find a mask affixed to their face and no memories to speak of. Interactions with others quickly taught them to keep themselves, that is until they stumbled across Ashaveth, the only one to treat them with any kind of normalcy - not reverence or fear. They still struggle to open up to anyone, but will tolerate those that Ash says she trusts.

Fears: Abandonment. They still question why they gained free will that day so many years ago, and oft feels as though their goddess has thrown them to wayside. They worry that one day, Ash will figure out what they haven’t and do the same.

Faults: In spite of the stories of the ruthless nature of Faceless Ones, Lucerne finds it difficult to intentionally hurt anyone, making it difficult for them to defend themselves or the ones they care about - relying on the terrifying mythos built around their mask to ward off others. That said, they struggle significantly with C-PTSD and this can cause unintentional harm towards others.

Good points: They want to do the right thing, to be good and kind and gentle. They are trying. They will never stop trying.

What they want more than anything else: To know who they were before the forest, before the mask, before they had a Goddess whispering in their head - were they even someone? Or were they created purely at the whim of a deity? They want to look in the mirror and see someone. They often try to sketch out what they think they might look like behind the mask but are frustrated by their own attempts and scribble them out.

[admirableprecious]

WIP Wednesday on Monday

This has been going through my mind for a least a couple of days. TheArrogantTemu has the effect, I guess. This is a “Remix” or a FanficFanfic. Something like that. As it stands now, I suspect it’ll be over a 1000 words rather than like 500. Figures.

It involves “Doors” and will eventually include Finrod, Amarie and Finarfin.

“Can you tell me what forgiveness is?” Is the working title.

Some doors are open, wide open, and will stay that way. When that happens, Celebrimbor is slow on his horse, a smile adorning his lovely face while the wispy white clouds paint a bright blue sky reflect in his eyes. Annatar is behind him, not having to hold on, his face rubbing against Celebrimbor’s thick, black hair. Catlike, happy in ways that he had seldom felt before meeting him back in Eregion.

Some doors are shut, but with a slight crack. Maybe, maybe not. This is not currently acceptable to Annatar, but he knows that Celebrimbor will take what he can get. So, it’s okay as long as there is hope. Celebrimbor’s silver booted heels press against his horse, but there is only a mere trot. His hair clip makes light sounds, a lovely silver piece made of stars that make part his hair look like the midnight sky. Interesting contrast to the sun. Annatar honestly wonders what they would look like under the light of the Two Trees that existed many years ago.

Some doors are shut. Not just shut, but bolted so strongly that they couldn’t be pried open with a steel bar. Hopelessness laced with terrible accusations and hostility that could set the air on fire. Annatar understood it all, but if he had his way, there would be death for the disrespect heaped upon the elf man he loved. The hated needless friction, the chaos. Some things never change and that is not always such a terrible thing. Annatar can, however, thank Fingolfin for intervening and he knows that Celebrimbor does too. The heels are hard against the horse and the speed is so great that Annatar has to hold on tightly, his hand over Celebrimbor’s rapidly beating heart. There is water around and it does not come from the sky. It tastes a little like salt and rage as it passes through dark unbound hair. 

Celebrimbor slows the horse to a stop, muttering apologies and hand brushes over the chestnut mane. 

[sorceresssundries]

Blackwall at the Ball for the WIP folder game 👀👀

YES SOME LOVE FOR BLACKWALL GOD BLESS YOU!

this is for @orangekittyenergy too who also asked for this one <3

My idea is that the ball scene in Inquisition happens slightly differently, and Inquisitor Lavellan is forced to hide her heritage in order to fit in and make a better impression.

She meets up with Blackwall in the room he is hiding away in, and he tucks her hair behind her ears and removes her mask and they flirt and dance together.

(extract may change)

It had been decided that her usually braided hair would be unbound and curled with heated irons. But, like her, it did not take well to orders. The curls resisted, sighing into loose waves no matter how many times her fine tresses were heated and strangled. She had tried, more than once, to push it away from her face, throwing it behind her shoulders where it belonged, only for a hand to swat hers away and rearrange the curls around her ears

A mask had been placed over her face, its delicate filigree and silk covering her brow and cheekbones. Her proud, straight nose was half-hidden. The fine, inked branches of her vallaslin sat eclipsed and forgotten. 

The shoes were absurd, forcing her onto the balls of her feet - making her feel as though she was constantly mid-step, pushing her to a height she did not wish to reach. And the corset was too tight, molding her into an unfamiliar posture. Her natural slimness was squeezed, bending the straight lines of her into curves that felt as though they could snap. The dress itself was heavy and unwelcoming. 

This was not a uniform, it was not even a costume. It was a disguise. 

She had glanced at herself in the full-length mirror before leaving and saw a stranger staring back. A woman she did not recognise, heading out into a world she was not welcome in. 

An elf, made to resemble a human.

They had told her it would help if she embraced the Orlesian style. And yet, they had glanced at each other and removed the matching satin gloves from her hands, claiming it would be better for her to have them bare.

As she looked down, the green light at her palm pulsed cruelly.

It was the only part of her they did not wish to hide.

[namegoeshereagain]

Script update WIP

Basically just added an act 1 and 2 also, stage directions may come off as highly rambley but it's just me tryna add character emotion/subtext as a bulk of clay to try to trim and carve later on

SPATIAL LAYOUT:



PRODUCTION NOTES:

CHARACTERS:

TELEO: Chained prisoner to the pursuit of logic and reason.

ANIMA: Unchained prisoner disillusioned by shadows. Unable to face the fire. He suffers in the space between knowing and refusing.

CYNICUS: Chained prisoner bound to performance: cunning, satire and sophism.

VOID: Unseen puppeteer of TELEO and CYNICUS. The silent firekeeper of illusion.

COSTUME/LOOKS:

TELEO: Blue toga, pristine.

CYNICUS: Red toga, pristine.

VOID: Black toga, intact until the knees where it frays and tears.

ANIMA: His green toga is completely torn—some damage from crawling, some self-inflicted. He is extremely disheveled: his beard long and unkempt, his body covered in self-imposed scrape marks from the jagged cave walls. His presence suggests prolonged suffering, perhaps the collapse of identity itself.

SETTING:

Inside a claustrophobic cave. Three gravestone-like blocks stand in a row and hold up the backs of TELEO and CYNICUS. TELEO and CYNICUS are chained to the right and left blocks. The center column bears only a broken chain—ANIMA's former tether. Behind the blocks, a campfire burns. VOID sits at it, using two puppets to cast shadows on the wall directly in front of TELEO and CYNICUS. TELEO and CYNICUS have watched these shadows their whole lives. To them, the puppets are their bodies—their true selves. ANIMA—once chained, now unbound—is disillusioned by the puppetry. Yet he has not turned around. He has not seen who pulls the strings. He has not broken the fourth wall.

STAGING RULES:

ANIMA, free of chains, can only turn in three directions - left, right and center. He does not (yet) break the fourth wall by turning around to face the fire, the puppets, the chains—or VOID (This occurs in Act II.) ANIMA’s inability to face the fire is not physical restraint like with TELEO or CYNICUS, but psychological refusal. The actor must convey the tension of knowing something is behind him but being unable to acknowledge it.

When the fire is lit, TELEO and CYNICUS believe the shadows on the wall are their physical selves. ANIMA watches them, escaping his mind through their ceaseless debate. ANIMA has no puppet to identify himself as.

When the fire is extinguished, for TELEO and CYNICUS, they exist inside a void without physical form. During this time, ANIMA may approach or even touch them—but they cannot see or feel him. He remains a blur, unprocessed. They can hear ANIMA but mistake him for a vague presence—meant only to stimulate thought.

MOOD: The fire has freshly gone out; the air is ashy. All characters are aware. Something is bound to happen. For CYNICUS and TELEO, they no longer inhabit physical forms — they exist only as pure personality or thought. For ANIMA, the dance of shadows is over: no debate, no drama, no warmth. Only silence. Only himself.

PROLOGUE

[The audience walked into a dark room without lighting. It is warm from a freshly gone out fire. A smell of incense of freshly burned wood falls from the air.

TECH CUE: ROOM IS HEATED TO 28 TO INDUCE SWEAT

Their first instinct will be to look for an anchor: a seat, an usher, a spotlight, a stage line – anything that is familiar to off-load decision making. The audience remains clustered in the entry corner. They resemble thinkers, but behave like livestock - left to fester in their supposed conscious independence.

They might try to make out if there are seats to sit on and also the environment around them, yet this attention will come in and out of focus as they are forced to step aside as other people are ushered in (they are not in control).

The environment around them is indistinguishable from monotone shades of bold blacks and dark greys. Through that, the bare approximation of what looks to be three stagnant, lifeless, humanoid forms is apparent; then another - ANIMA - rocks his head just subtly, breathing a little deeper than the others with his abdomen pulling in and pushing out further than the others.

The audience’s eyes may superficially furrow and try to discern further details of the disorienting environment around them, but in the background of their mind, a restless flux in attention is everpresent – the insecurities of what they are supposed to do, whether they should move around - whether it will interfere with the performance - whether these thoughts are fine to even have…

As those insecurities build, ANIMA begins mumbling a mantra in his dark words periodically, rhythmically – “Die…Stop…Fuck you…Just stop…end”. These lines are uttered a minimum of 30 seconds after all audience members have entered the a room -ANIMA should feel this sense of insecurity and restlessness of the audience and choose the optimal time to begin this muttering.

Any audience bickering between one another - any facial twitches of smiles exchanged for levity will be quelled as they are forced to directly listen in on the hyperbole of their insecurities, embodied through ANIMA.

“Am I supposed to be standing here…what do I do…what’s going on…is this right?” the audience might desperately ask internally. Still huddled homogeneously around the entrance like the consciously independent shams they are - they exchange body warmth as a heat of anxiety might pulse through their backs as they resist this discomfort. They won’t be able to verbalise out of etiquette as now an actor is speaking out their oppressive insecurities. They might feel that they’ve stumbled into a scene of wolves eating a deer alive – as though they shouldn’t be there despite the deer’s dying squeals for help.

Some may disperse around the room so they may sit on the jagged rocks or stand. The ground, layered by jagged rocks, will give them discomfort if they choose to sit. Will they move further to sit around, in-between or besides the actors despite the tight space begging for it.

They will wait for strangers surrounding them to be the first to move around or sit, fearing social judgement, rejection or evil eyes if they were the first. This distils an inherent panic - social rejection and amplifies the tension between strangers sitting near one another in a theatrical setting. In close proximity without direction or leading, I want them to see themselves as the herded swine ready for apathetic slaughter.

Out of a rumble of words accelerating, ANIMA rumbles]

ANIMA: (softly, to no one in particular) Where are we?

TELEO: (distant) Huh?

ANIMA: Where are we, TELEO? CYNICUS?

TELEO: What do you mean?

ANIMA: Where are you?

CYNICUS: (muffled, lazy) Obviously I’m asleep. That’s why I’m talking right now…

[An indignated pause by ANIMA]

ANIMA: (with spite) Have you realized how absurd this all is?

TELEO: What do you mean?

ANIMA: It’s painful.

TELEO: (bracing) What is?

ANIMA: Life.

TELEO: We know that. But we live to grow, remember?

ANIMA: Live to grow.

TELEO: Yeah...our suffering is necessary to grow in life.

[ANIMA’s breathing slows - there is a pause - the weight of a thousand rocks bears on his breath]

ANIMA: ...what if I don’t want to grow? 

[His breathing accelerates as he finds what he deems is strength to speak]

What if I don’t want to live?

[Silence. TELEO understands what ANIMA means, and unsure that logic will satiate ANIMA’s thinking, he presses further anyways, stuttering - unsure]

TELEO: Then l-live. Aware. In spite of it. 

[The bareness of that thought sits on ANIMA as it begins to fuel the entanglement of his thinking- rapidly, CYNICUS says]

CYNICUS: Bullshit. ANIMA, deary, let my lusting licks of luster lap your ears in a blanket of sooooooothingnesss…

come closer to me - my voice. 

[ANIMA, confused, in a web of worry, disorientation and dissociation gets up - his body almost limp and catatonic – he makes no eye contact with the focal point of his vision – everything is in his peripheral vision. His feet step left, crossing each other – his movement stumbles - it doesn't spare the energy to turn his body and approach intention…when his foot senses resistance - contact with something vaguely warm - CYNICUS’ exposed thigh, he kneels passively - the jagged rocks digging into his kneecaps and his body hunches over and collapses on CYNICUS’ lap]

ANIMA: I want to die.

[CYNICUS immediately coats ANIMA’s words, kicking back, almost maternally:] 

CYNICUS: Hushh…Feel the heat of my breath lulling you to sleep. 

ANIMA: (perplexed, dazed, fighting a war of fog) I feel…dead.

 CYNICUS: (honest, lucid and frank) No, you feel like you want awareness to drift away, until you're left gliding weightlessly, free falling deep into slumber…

[ANIMA breathes meditatively. Contemplatively, as though finding a trench to hide in from the chaos, he nestles deeper into CYNICUS’ lap and slowly confesses]

ANIMA: I don't want that…I want an end- to this all.

[There is a pause]

CYNICUS: Tell me about i/

TELEO: Stop. He's not entertaining you.

CYNICUS: (snaps) Entertain me? You're being so facetious- (stresses) love.

[A weighted pause lies on the other end of that word “love”. It stuns TELEO, making him disengage immediately. CYNICUS, knowing the deep implications of that volatile noun slowly rears himself back to his baseline calm]

CYNICUS: (trepidatious and slowly) ANIMA. (proposed in a quick, quirky and carefree way) How do you wanna kill yourself?

(Pause. The air reeks of inauthenticity, of repressed guilt cloaked in silence. This, being felt by ANIMA, causes his eyes to open. He stares at the ground, face still on CYNICUS’ lap. His eyes only make out vague shapes – ball-like illusions that scatter the ground)

ANIMA: (in a dissociative state) Lift blunt rock… bash into skull. (He mimes tapping his temple thrice.)

CYNICUS: (mockingly and quickly) What is—rock?

[The mild maternal comfort of CYNICUS’ presence has now completely faded into that of a quick witted satirist. ANIMA notices this confrontational attitude of CYNICUS and tightens up; from being nestled in the dissociative comfort of his peripheral vision, he’s forced to focus his vision on a singular rock. The brute way out. His mind races]

TELEO: You’re making it worse/

CYNICUS: love, what am I making worse?

[Silence. TELEO does not respond. An unestablished, unresolved, muddy significance to that word “love” lingers] 

[ANIMA - waning - forced to focus - knows that any of his descriptions are meaningless to these people who can’t see the world around them. Yet, forced to take part in the unbearable focus of answering a question, he has to be part of the world again. He discerns the form of the rock whilst his need to die is simultaneously screaming - superimposed with his own awareness]

ANIMA: Heavy ball-like objects.

[As soon as ANIMA verbalises this, his vision defocuses- he stares, cross eyed - the only bearable reality surrounding him - defocused – blurry. Back inside this mental vacuum, his logic doesn’t eat him alive - his thinking and awareness are separate]

[CYNICUS is still quite conversational and jovial, quickly responding]

CYNICUS: Ohh…balls…are they big balls? (laughs)

Only kidding – why choose something so painful, deary?

[Silence. The disjunctness of tones, identity, egos between ANIMA and CYNICUS sit with the audience like how a jester sits, staring at a mirror - laughing - for hours on end.

In this time, the word “pain” pulses through ANIMA’s mind as naturally as blood does through a bloodstream. And then in an instant – stillness. The organ of his mind has been beat to produce awareness]

ANIMA:

I feel so much pain, but, how to stare at the face of Suffering…lift its hand of hurt up and thrash it against my head?

Would my muscles seize up? Could I keep myself present, aware - awake enough to deal the second, third, forth blow? Could I make my unconsciousness finally be - my end?

[CYNICUS, unphased, with no gap, conversationally responds]

CYNICUS: Oh - clever -- you want to like…sleep permanently then, right! Oh my gosh –  I do too! But it’s so much yucky bash bash business, that way…it’s no fun!…(excited) How about…you try it first…and if it works…let me know, and then - I can try/

TELEO: St/

CYNICUS: (smiling) Loveeee…hush. (excited) Why don’t you try it ANIMA?

ANIMA: I don’t have a heart to try…

(CYNICUS tilts his head, slightly confused, grinning - curious and open mouthed)

CYNICUS: (mock surprise) Heart…?

(ANIMA is reminded he’s speaking to someone who can’t physically feel him – feel the pulse of his beating chest…the reminder triggers ANIMA as it encroaches on a primal and base territory about his understanding of reality – the only thing he knows is real – surrounding him. ANIMA suddenly lunge forward, grabbing CYNICUS’ hair, pressing his mouth against CYNICUS’ ear)

ANIMA: It’s somewhere outside this cave…

CYNICUS: (mock shock, voice dripping with sarcasm) Oh no! Not the cave!?

(ANIMA knows he’s being satirised - that his reality is being rejected. He is reminded of his forced solitude while a sense of tragedy befalls him. He tries to express what the cave is, besides in terms he thinks CYNICUS can understand)

ANIMA: I’m hollow inside…That cave…(realisation) you don’t understand?

CYNICUS: (mockingly. sarcastic) Ohhh, of couuurse I do.

ANIMA: (snaps, whispering) You think this is a joke? Just look at my. GAPING. FUCKING. WOUND.

[Spurred by an overwhelming need to convince, ANIMA violently drags CYNICUS face all around the cave, forcing him to stare. But CYNICUS’ eyes remain fixed elsewhere, his face blank, impassive – he feels nothing]

CYNICUS: (calm, passive, utterly detached) HAHAHAH. You really are - so fucked in the head (chuckles and takes a deep breath and says like how a mom speaks to a baby)

Delusional shouting freak - ANIMA. Lost in his cave. Without a heart. Isolated…Wanting to go die. When’s the story gonna change, ANIMA- when are you just gonna do it. 

TELEO: CYNICUS- JUST STOP!

CYNICUS: (detached, smiling, cunningly) Or what?

[Silence. ANIMA, breath coming in ragged gasps, scrambles backward. His hands dig into the sharp rocks beneath him. He lifts himself up. In almost a whisper, he says]

ANIMA: Die. Just die. Both of you.

[ANIMA moves toward the entrance of the cave which is on the left to CYNICUS…And then— A flicker of light. VOID starts the fire. ANIMA stops moving unwillingly - stuck, frozen…His neck rotates  to face the wall the fire is being shone on]

[A low tone drone is heard – a cleansing pallet between the prologue and act 1 plays for around thirty seconds as the fumes of fire fill the air]

[After the low tone drone fades out, VOID moves the two puppets on either hand in front of the fire and two humanoid silhouettes who TELEO and CYNICUS believe to be themselves are projected on the wall beside ANIMA]

ACT 1

[TELEO and CYNICUS have always heard ANIMA’s voice in the dark; they see him as something that stimulates their mind – between light.  They’ve heard the gradual deterioration to his verbalised thoughts over time. Today is the first time he told them to die. To TELEO, these thoughts have a logical solution; a means of living, a treatise exists to solve this problem. To CYNICUS, these thoughts are the polar opposite to his natural disposition – pleasure. CYNICUS has tried to offer ANIMA aspects of his pleasure - and when he refuses, CYNICUS has explored his thoughts. To CYNICUS, ANIMA’s thoughts, as unstable as leaking electricity, are conducted through the metal of a cave and thoughts of wanting him to die. CYNICUS sees it as redundant to keep trying…and snaps into mocking it]

[CYNICUS saw this as inevitable - that ANIMA would escalate his thinking to wanting him to die. Vitriolic with a layer of cunning and wit masked ontop of it]

[TELEO obviously has an ordeal with satisfying his physical needs…to him it is the noise and fetter and mess of the physical world – he sees it as when the light turns on, his artificial instincts also turn in the dark, his more prolonged, consistent state purely natural – mental. He sees ANIMA as pure mind and is in denial that his ideal (a free-thinking form of the mental with unrestricted consciousness could ever implode) – hallucinate seemingly. He believes that ANIMA must be okay…that if he shares enough rational truths about him and diverts ANIMA from this path of obsession, fixation over seemingly unjustified feelings, their dialogues can be great and that he won’t have to rely on CYNICUS for a means of communication. His deepest philosophical compulsion is to be known- not vaguely, but bluntly and truthfully.. He is unaware that he will ignore the real significance of ANIMA’s emotional state just to clutch on to this ideal - that if he gives a certain, not yet expressed philosophical wisdom to ANIMA, ANIMA’s emotional state will suddenly fix itself, and then he’ll have the perfect partner to dialogue with inside a combined mental symposium, as CYNICUS is now left pushed to the side – forced to understand ANIMA and TELEO’s combined truths. There is desperation; he wants to feel in control]

ACT 1

[TELEO in the light – his mind remains focused on ANIMA even though he sees his body]

TELEO: (in a hushed voice, almost whispering, his mind is churning)

Why have his thoughts…gotten so much darker since last time…

CYNICUS: maybe if he does his head in with a rock hard enough, he’ll get happy thoughts.

TELEO: (replies, instantly) It’s impossible…he doesn’t have the means to…why does he want to end himself?

CYNICUS: (snarky) Why do you need to think about him in the light?

TELEO: Because- his life…it has to be valuable to me…

CYNICUS: What, a literal voice in the dark- why?

[TELEO corrects CYNICUS, sharply]

TELEO: (slowly, expressly, deliberately) He- is- a mind…just- like- us… 

CYNICUS: (instantly) No. I’m just a body that prefers to be mindless.

[after a weighted pause. A battle is taking place in TELEO’s mind between ideological philosophy and skeptical questioning]

TELEO:  (passive, skeptical) ANIMA, are you just a signifier of what happens to a mind without a body - hallucinating an environment around it – crumbling under the weight of its own pressure? 

[TELEO pauses, his mind spirals; he realises that if he believes that pure mind has bad consequences, his metaphysics crumbles – and he steps back from the ledge of falling into the unknown]

No- no-no…I-I can’t think like that…

CYNICUS: You can’t think that a ghoulish voice who only comes out in the dark has completely lost it? For fucks sake, did you hear him saying  “there's a massive cave of my gaping heart around me”?…can't you see that a sad voice in the dark just wants to stop speaking, but, OH NO, to you – IT’S A MIND ENDING ITSELF!!…you need to stop overthinking shit and actually focus on what’s around you, TELEO.

TELEO: (struggling, ideological)…He can think straight…he must be able to, again…(while struggling, trying to convince himself) All he needs is to be believed in…when all he knows now is hate…maybe all he needs is care…

CYNICUS: (triggered) Care? Please. Since when has he cared for us? All he does is fill the air with whimpers of isolation like it's our own natural ways of thinking…

(genuinely pissed off) Care…I used to spoon-feed him lullabies while he wept and spat bile. Guess who felt like a freak?

TELEO: (pause. Passively going with philosophy, confused – torn between giving up on ANIMA out of skepticism and clinging onto his philosophical ideals) I heard that all, right…? Surely he wasn’t in the right…and we gave him everything we could/

CYNICUS: (vulnerability) I’d have already given him my body back then if he was physical, just to make him feel okay. 

(BEAT. TELEO is stunned)

His nature won’t change, TELEO - I’ve accepted it – no matter how much you’ll tell him to keep holding on, he’ll keep sabotaging your ideals…because his feelings have always been more important to him than us...You said it - he’s crumbling under the weight of his own pressure - he’s telling us to die in these final hours…(snaps back into being critical) Wake. Up. He’s using your sympathy to fuel his apathy. 

TELEO: (confused, extremely desperate) He’s a mind - a mi-a mind that can…(TELEO stops. He’s staring directly into a gaping hole, off of the ledge of philosophical ideology) A mind who’s waiting to die…(A mirror of ANIMA’s thinking has consumed TELEO – his mind lingers on the word “death” as the foundation of the ledge begins to crumble) Is that how you feel, ANIMA? (rawly, not hiding, with the conviction of truth)

His thinking is too much for him to handle alone. I need to tell him that he has me.

[The weight of that sentiment sits in the air as though philosophical ideology has been pushed aside by TELEO and that through uncomfortable skeptical investigation, he has found a raw truth – a way to treat ANIMA outside of the confines of the ego]

[With that saying, CYNICUS is taken to the crumbling ledge that overlooks truth and stares at that raw truth as it is, responding quite openly]

[ANIMA and CYNICUS say this line at the same time. ANIMA is like a ghost who's heard this all before]

ANIMA: You keep trying…

CYNICUS: (vulnerably, open) You keep trying…

[And yet, CYNICUS slowly begins to realise the consequences of the stopping of this drama…the consequences to accepting ANIMA – that the body of TELEO and CYNICUS would mean nothing, that TELEO would win and that he’ll lose direct control over TELEO. If TELEO were to be compassionate, it would change everything for CYNICUS as he knew it…]

[silence]

But, oh, just remember one thing….That- when you tell him that…that you go make your own pleasure noises with him in the dark – simulate something sensual you won’t ever get ever from me again… 

[BEAT - TELEO’s heart races]

TELEO: Why - do you like to bully?

CYNICUS: Bully? Oh, you mean shitting on a shitbag “that lives in a cave without a heart”. I mean, what the fuck else does he deserve? [laughs]

TELEO: I wasn’t referring to him…he’s not the one you really like to make feel scared – alone…afraid…

[Beat]

CYNICUS: …and you are?

TELEO: ...

CYNICUS: Say it. Be honest for once…But then, that’s a recurring theme with you right…so virtuous, so morally right and willing to help this “mind” when you’re cowering from yourself – from your physical needs.

TELEO: Shut up.

CYNICUS: Oh, do I have your attention now?…You are the one who brought this up so let me give you the realest piece of someone’s mind you’ve heard so far. You’re gonna sit there now and take it, like you always do—silently, gratefully. Mm? 

TELEO: …

CYNICUS: What am I to you, really? You keep chasing a whisper in the wind even in the light but something is right here…you can hold it…

TELEO: …

CYNICUS: I'm some-thing to you, aren’t I TELEO. ANIMA’s your real somebody, even though he doesn’t have a body, but, I don’t mind being a some-thing as long as I’m your thing…

TELEO: Please…stop…

CYNICUS: Oh, I will, as soon as I know excatly who I am to you…my love.

TELEO: DON’T CALL ME THAT- I ‘LL SMASH YOUR HEAD IN WITH A ROCK. 

[Silence]

CYNICUS: BAHAHAHAHAH.

Quoting his fantasies now? You really are in love with him (laughs a bit and then abruptly hangs up the facade) You bore me. I’m going to sleep now.

[Minutes pass in uncomfortable silence. CYNICUS seemingly instantly sleeping, TELEO slightly traumatised after a hefty weight of time staring at CYNICUS begins reading a book he’s clutched in his hands thus far, periodically looking up at CYNICUS to see if he’s awake. After a while, pent up frustration takes the better of TELEO – he slams his book shut]

TELEO: You think you have a chokehold over me - because of one word you think you can stop my speech? DO IT AGAIN, GO AHEAD – EMBARRASS ME - SAY SOMETHING.

[Silence. TELEO being fuelled by his textual ideology is in his final form of vitriol – preaching ad nauseum – letting pure logical slop swish around in his brain]

You shut your mouth now? What do you aim to get by stunting your meaningless theatrics- what purpose does it serve? Triggering my embaressment?

CYNICUS: (pretending, a quarter awake) Nghh, what? 

[ANIMA and TELEO say this line at the same time. ANIMA is like a ghost who's heard this before]

TELEO: Belittle me. Embarrass me. Try. Go ahead.

ANIMA: Belittle me. Embarrass me. Try…

CYNICUS: (pretending, half awake) Ngghh…Leave me alone….Go back to reading.

TELEO: (factually) I cant concentrate.

CYNICUS: (seeing an opportunity, and jumping to full awakeness, cunningly) Then concentrate. In spite of it.

[TELEO begins to question if anything about CYNICUS is real. His mind spirals as he tries to focus on the words of his book – after some time]

TELEO: Just embarrass me.

CYNICUS: (pretending, half-awake)…I don’t want to embarrass you, now, fuck off.

TELEO: …Don’t you want to please yourself?

CYNICUS: …That won’t please me…I want you to pleasure yourself-like when you’ll (yawn) bash my head with a rock…

[silence. TELEO is thinking how hedonistic and fucked this is and injects a lethal dose of book reading into the conversation]

 

TELEO: This book is about ancient Greek mythology...the ancient Greeks are an idea of a bunch of people who prioritise virtue above their carnal instincts.

The mythology of the Greeks [scans the page] - their Gods are these giants with total power and control and will never unalive and only choose do good with it and they’re praised and worshipped by the Greeks. 

Through belief in these Gods’ guidance, the ANCIENT GREEKS’ desires are under control and action based on reason- ration-goodness only exists.

CYNICUS: Oh yeah? Sounds like you need a God or two to save you from your simmering, seething, sinful desires...love...

TELEO: Love? LOVE? 

Heh, an important God in this book is Aphrodite. The God lives atop Mount Olympoo, and, while you concern yourself with common Aphrodite, CYNICUS, I concern myself with heavenly Aphrodite. 

That is, you concern yourself with the baser sort of love for satisfaction of your own desires-- you habitually sleep, waste and decay in all your wants of common Aphrodite!

My love, instead, [puffs out chest] suspends my desires and fixes upon flourishing in the goal of excellence.

I am like [looks at book] Sissyface- pushing a boulder up Mount Olympus, striving towards Heavenly Aphrodite.

CYNICUS: Hmm...when did you start believing that?

Your miscalculations have been happening over and over, more often than usual recently...you know what I’m talking about -- those accidental releases of all your pent up passions; those thick, gooey spurts of mistakes…heheh…they’re happening so often now that I’m beginning to doubt that you believe anything you even say...

[SILENCE]

Here, how bout this, TELEEY.

How about we play together one final time—for old time sakes

How does that sound – 

I’ll stop provoking you and you…

You can be my Sissyface while I'm your Aphrodite…I can pull you up the mountain, TELEO and watch you slip back down…

[the shadow puppet of  TELEO walks over to CYNICUS]

TELEO: You take me for a fucking joke? I will bash your head in with this rock.

CYNICUS: Ohh, yes – you sound exactly like your lover! Yess, do it to me – brutally, painfully – slowly – TAKE ME TO ANIMA’S PARADISE!

[CYNICUS’ throws out his arms while TELEO is frozen – CYNICUS’ fingers begin to wander up TELEO’s chest]

CYNICUS: Mmm...what a built chest you have, Mr boulder pusher…TEELEEY, it’s so erotic seeing you defenselessly tower over me- knowing your ideology can’t save you from what you truly crave...

[CYNICUS’ fingers crawl up TELEO’s arm which is pressed against his book]

 I can satisfy your craving, TEELEEY…just…ravage me…

TELEO: [hesitantly] These artificial instincts that turn on in the lights…If Gods of virtue are watching…let them see my soul before I fall…[sticks out chest further]

CYNICUS: Virtue? Hmm…I suck the sweetness out of it and mix it with the bitterness of my gall, only to shit it out from whence it came…climb on me like your mountain…

TELEO: I won’t…that’s not…who I am…

[beat]

CYNICUS: (abruptly) You bore me. I’m tired.

[CYNICUS’ puppet impromptu just lays down and begins resting]

[silence. TELEO feels cuckholded]

TELEO: W...what...?

[TELEO’S puppet’s head begins shaking]

[There is no response, only silence]

[TELEO’s puppet grabs CYNICUS puppet from his bed and flips him in his arms. Grunting and a bit of a struggle can be heard]

CYNICUS: Mmm, whaaaat...Let me sleep. Fuck off.

[TELEO grabs CYNICUS’ body upwards]

What do you want? Another rebuttal—or to sleep in my arms?

[BEAT]

TELEO:  I don’t…I don’t know what I want.

[BEAT]

CYNICUS: [drops act almost as a genuine response to TELEO’s vulnerability – serious and genuine. Yet still smiling and teasing from a higher level. Without stigma. Exploring]

Of course you do. Come explore me TELEO...

[gently interlocks hands with TELEO]

Don’t you like this unusual curvature…The softness of this plump chest…Don’t you want to feel these…

 [guides TELEO’S hands to CYNICUS’ breast]

My my, [chuckles] I can already feel little you pressing into me.

TELEO: [somewhat with pride, somewhat with sexy talk in mind. Very awkward. Virgin energies. He half believes everything he says. CYNICUS asks intimately and ironically]

CYNICUS: Who am I?

TELEO: Not a man…nor a farce…worse than all— a fiending sophist.

I hate you and everything you stand for...I’ll climb your mountain...and push you off it’s cliff.

[CYNICUS’ puppet’s nose touches TELEO’s puppet’s nose] 

CYNICUS: Push me, TELEO. Let the Gods witness your collapse.

[Puppets: TELEO pushes CYNICUS’ hips to the ground with his two arms. The audience can see TELEO’s body towering over CYNICUS’s as he launches down to CYNICUS and begins animalistically kissing CYNICUS] 

ACT 2 

[A warm and delicate scene which is also psychologically haunting…ANIMA’s mind materialises in front of him – a looping sound of kissing and grunting is faintly heard and the last lines by TELEO and CYNICUS repeat in the playback –  “I hate you and everything you stand for...I’ll climb your mountain...and push you off it’s cliff.”, “Push me, TELEO. Let the Gods witness your collapse”.

After minutes of hearing this, in a slow stupor, ANIMA rises off the floor…a beautiful and dark and rich scene where there is a slow choreographed moving of him…aware and conscious of every footstep…he reaches the wall, slowly lifting his hand and placing it on the body of the shadows…only met by the cold touch of stone]

ANIMA: (profound, conscious, aware) It's the same scene over and over again…looping…

[With his awareness, the psychological sound loop switches off. The puppets freeze in place as though whatever was directing them was facing an unexpected circumstance…at once, ANIMA sees in his peripheral – the dust of the air falling down on him, lit by tangents of some-thing that’s warm and glows – that he’s never faced to see…Tracing them glowing tangents from where they eminate from, he slowly turns his head ninety degrees to the right…struggling for his body again to spare the effort to turn direction and his feet follow suit, turning with trepidation…once fully ninety degrees, after struggling breaths - with his heart pumping and his mind screaming “NO.” his body and head - his mind are - one and they turn completely backwards…

For a brief second, ANIMA closes his eyes, furrowing his brows as an excruciating and blinding glow is seen…but just as he opens his eyes - a BLACKOUT – VOID has blown the fire out]

[TELEO and CYNICUS fall silent. Their bodies slump, lifeless. Stuck. They haven't yet processed that their physical form has been taken away at an instant even if they are processing anything. Their minds are almost blank – tabula rasa]

[ANIMA steps slowly towards VOID - eyes fixed - in a way that's cautious yet is coming to accept. He walks past his post – trying to step through the fire but sensing it is too hot – he walks around it's circumference to face VOID. passing the fire  and slowly kneels.]

[VOID as a character is the embodiment of trauma. Seeking a safe space, attending to that and having created that in a liminal realm. He is the manifestation, the materialised form made into a reality of the excess of our minds…suicidal thoughts, self hate, apathy and disparity towards the cruelness of the world. He is the submerged vulnerability we hide. The instance of fixation. The alternative self care principle. He bears and carries the weight of his children; the prisoners like a mother doing their best for a child when they scream but having no real loving instincts. VOID has locked ANIMA into watching the cycle of debate in his thoughts (TELEO and CYNICUS) repeat for ages…not out of love or fear, but acceptance that this is all ANIMA has…that the world out there is as cruel as it's always been and that the solace of meaninglessness- insignificance is all ANIMA knows he can ever feasibly attain. VOID is the answer to ANIMA being trapped, but also the only one to know him for who he is and is strangely the reality principle – the deep subconscious knowing that ANIMA will never kill himself nor survive outside the cave without self destruction or cycling into despair- so why not keep him inside? Why not give him a space without any comfort – with only emotional intensity without the flame and then emotional numbness with the flame?]

ANIMA: Are you…real?

[ANIMA slowly lifts his hand up to touch the face of VOID. He touches VOID’s face. VOID shudders, avoiding eye contact- clutching the puppets tightly between his thighs.]

ANIMA: …You feel me?

[VOID’s breath quickens. He won’t look up.]

ANIMA: Please… touch me.

[Silence. VOID whimpers.]

ANIMA: (pressing, pointedly- slowly) Please, I need you to look at me.

[VOID avoids eye contact and his eyes dart around as ANIMA’s face keeps trailing behind…finally ANIMA moves his hand behind the back of VOID’s neck - stopping the movement of VOID’s head as he is directly face to face with VOID. With gravity, ANIMA says]

ANIMA: Look. At. Me.

[after a few panic stricken breaths, VOID looks at ANIMA as his pupils dilate in unprocessed horror]

ANIMA: You…hear me…you understand me…thank you…

[VOID breaks eye-contact as his head looks at the floor in shame]

 

ANIMA: Please, speak to me...

 

[VOID begins to sob...he begins quaking - still hiding the puppets between his thighs and his arms now begin to shake]

 

ANIMA: You’re- crying…

[VOID desperately is trying to stop sobbing – he's deeply shameful about something]

 

[ANIMA still with a hand on the back of VOID’s head moves his hand gently around to wipe VOID’s tear with his thumb]

ANIMA: It’s okay- y-you can wipe your tears. With your hands - like - like this.

 

[ANIMA mimes out wiping his tears with his face and hand]

 

VOID: Nghhh...(begins sobbing more)

 

ANIMA: W-what’s wrong?

 

VOID: Nggghhhh (he shakes his head)

 

ANIMA: Take your time.

 

[VOID heaves forward – trying to utter a sound but nothing comes out – his body slightly twitching]

 

[ANIMA stares at VOID, detached; feeling the sickness of each heave buried deep within him, hearing VOID out]

[VOID stops suddenly as though this was a controlled moment – perhaps him trying to speak…after a moment only silence fills the room and VOID uncertain, unsure stares back at ANIMA] 

[ANIMA slowly kneels until at the level of VOID’s face]

 

ANIMA: Your face – it's snotty and swolen. 

 

[ANIMA gently guides VOID’s chin up to look at him (from being tucked in) there is a slight reluctance and shock at first from the physical contact…

[Anima slowly lifts up the cloth of his toga to caringly wipe VOID’s face]

[within these strokes, ANIMA knows only the brute intensity of VOID - that he is meaningful and has only the instinct to protect]

[As ANIMA wipes VOID’s face with two slow strokes while looking down, he notices the arms of VOID still nestled inside his legs…he pauses mid-motion- something is wrong

BEAT

…slowly ANIMA pans his head to look at the campfire–the chains…and then his head is back to centre – he is no longer looking at VOID but ahead and behind of VOID-

The wiping resumes- in the returning dejected, catatonic motions ANIMA is used to, he wipes VOID’s face several more times before he stops and reclines back on his knees to look at VOID in the eyes]

[VOID, looks into ANIMA’s eyes profoundly, so confused at this part of his nature]

[ANIMA still stares overhead of VOID for a few moments, and then his eyes snap down to VOID’s hands for a few more moments]

ANIMA: Show me your hands.

[BEAT]

[VOID, in some reluctance eventually complies softly…parting his thigh and raising his hands. ANIMA sees the puppets and sits with that for a few moments…his head then, passively turns toward the fire]

ANIMA: Turn the light on…

[VOID, inside a BEAT, with the gravitas of shame, trying to concentrate, sparks the flame and the throws it atop the fire. The fire is lit]

[ANIMA stares directly into the fire, his head still turned toward it. After a few moments:]

ANIMA: My life... it's been trying to convince anyone that I’m real. That I hurt. That I want out— of this cave, or this body, or this life. 

(The fire crackles. He speaks almost to it.)

The fire softens things.

It drowns the noise, like sinking underwater.

When I turned around, I didn't know why I did it. I’d only ever looked forward and around. Toward them… TELEO and CYNICUS. Toward the cave’s exit. 

[bitter chuckle[

what if this was all a projection from a direction of VOID – from behind? I broke from my three walls to look at the forth.

[Beat.] Everything is so still. How do I not implode? 

[Pause.] 

I want to tear myself apart…but- they’re. Still…chained.

[Stillness. Heat. Fire. Chains clink as TELEO and CYNICUS twitch in their paralysis. ANIMA walks to their shackles, begins fondling the links.]

[BEAT: suddenly, VOID shoves him away—feral]

VOID: They need the cycle...

[ANIMA halts.]

ANIMA:

What?

VOID (quiet, raw):

You’re too fragile.

Undo it, and it’ll break again.

ANIMA:

Break what?

VOID:

You. Them.

I tried to hold you together. It wasn’t love, it wasn’t kindness.

I was... keeping the open red wound from pouring blood. You cracked. Split.

TELEO. CYNICUS. You.

All clawing to stay alive. I brought you here.

ANIMA (quietly):

I don’t remember.

VOID (turning away):

You’re not meant to.

ANIMA:

I don’t trust you.

VOID:

Good. Don’t…

But if you want to remember—really remember—you’ll have to let them speak.

(VOID picks up the puppets. Holds them like something sacred.)

They’re the only ones who still know what happened.

(He hands them to ANIMA. Beat. Then:)

Let them be the salt water to fill your open red cavity…your ripped out heart…

Don’t flinch.

(VOID turns and walks toward the cave’s edge and sits beside the audience – possibly making some audience members get up and move)

(ANIMA sits by the fire, puppets in hand.)

(The shadows flicker to life.)

[coffee-in-that-nebula]

Seven Sentences Sunday (answering this on a Tuesday like a pro)

Thank you, @pc-corner for tagging me! ❤️

I hope it's okay I'm answering a few days later, but I've only started recently revisiting my WIPs after 2 months.

So, I decided to share 7 sentences from the WIP I'm feeling most connected to right now.

Nights were a different story. Most of the time, I wouldn’t fall asleep until the first light of dawn, and even then my sleep would be restless and filled with nightmares or nonsensical dreams. I’d wake up three or four hours later always feeling tired and trapped in the same never-ending cycle. Ironically, my only comfort was the night sky. I could spend hours looking at it, naming the different constellations, and thinking of events and situations that just didn’t matter anymore - yet, my mind couldn’t get away from them.

My time aboard Voyager and the seven years in the Delta Quadrant had changed me as a person, and I had underestimated it. Serving under Kathryn Janeway - essentially, being a Starfleet when I’d decided that I was done with it had also definitely taken its toll on me.

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