levwrites - Tumblr blog

[levwrites]

If you're an aspiring author working to get published, slaving away on a novel in progress with perfection as your goal... I would highly advise you, every once in a while... to write.

Not on your novel, not in your notes and concepts document, not on anything even remotely professional and not in a journal. Simply tell a story, stress free, with no expectations. Could be fanfiction from your favorite series, a random short story idea you had three months ago, or a writing prompt you found online. Allow yourself to have some fun again. Remind yourself why you love what you do. It will make you all the more determined and inspired to one day complete your ultimate work.

Fanfiction was how I originally fell in love with writing (that and my adventures in my paracosms). I started putting my story ideas on paper when I was eight. Four years ago I stopped writing fanfiction altogether, deeming it a waste of time when I could be putting my talents elsewhere. But a couple days ago I randomly decided to sit down with a computer and a few ideas, no outline or notes whatsoever, and just have a good time. Incredibly cleansing.

[levwrites]

The divine right of kings but it's a curse

[levwrites]

strange omens gather at the end of the street

[levwrites]

My dash is dead and I need way more writeblr's to follow and play tag games with so...

Pls rb/like this post if you're a writeblr and post about any of the following:

Writes adult fiction

Primarily writes romance/fantasy/scifi/paranormal/etc.

LGBT+ themes and characters

A monster fucker (bonus points if you write about angels, demons, or dragons)

Write graphic violence and sex scenes

Write about mental illness

or

you like rock and roll

And I'll check you out and give you a follow! I follow from @mercurialsmile so if you see that username hi its just me.

[levwrites]

it's always so fascinating and heartbreaking when a character in a story is simultaneously idolized and abused. a chosen prophet destined for martyrdom. a child prodigy forced to grow up too fast. a powerful warrior raised as nothing but a weapon. there's just something so uniquely messed up about singing someone's praises whilst destroying them.

[levwrites]

Hi! I’m looking for some more tumblr writing blogs similar to yours if you had any recommendations you’d be willing to share!

There are a lot of hero and villain writers on tumblr! @creweemmaeec11 has a whole community going, so may be more up to date than me!

(Sorry if this list misses anyone! It's by no means exhaustive.)

@gingerly-writing, @yourheartonfire, @thepenultimateword, @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room, @saltydumplings, @save-the-villainous-cat, @creweemmaeec11, @amethystpath-writes, @selene-stories, @some-messed-up-writing-for-you, @onestopheroxvillain, @booberryfun, @watercolorfreckles, @vigilantetendencies, @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers, @nuttynutcycle, @defectivehero, @caffeinewitchcraft, @recklessfiction, @snowshowerwriting, @deckofaces

Anyone else who writes in the hero/villain, enemies to lovers, romance/fantasy ballpark, please feel free to add your name so people can find you!

[levwrites]

False Pretenses

Part 1: The Spark

At the peak of the war between angels and demons, a demon general finds out a newly captured angel is his soulmate - or is he? 

Stuck in enemy territory, an angel needs to escape before his nemesis finds out his true identity - or worse, before the lie he’s weaving between them comes to light. 

When his friend goes missing in enemy territory, Nimai loses all reason. It’s not a good idea to sneak into demon lands searching for them, and yet he makes a plan that’s bound to fail and goes anyway. 

He is the first one not to be surprised when he’s found and captured. 

The demons bind his wings in an uncomfortable harness meant to keep angels grounded. They touch them to do it, which is worse than the harness itself. The crawling sensation makes Nimai grit his teeth and fight not to lash out and make the situation worse for himself. If he fights back, they will break them. 

They hang him up by his wings and leave him in a cold, dark cell, waiting. 

What a foolish way to die. He hopes his friend will never know what happened to him. They are probably dead. Nimai is a pragmatic angel, and maybe - just maybe - he doesn’t want to live in a world without them. 

It takes about an hour before the door opens again and none other than Commander Zeran walks in. 

Despite having made peace with his circumstances, the sight of the demon still makes Nimai tense up. There’s no real way to escape, no one will come to rescue him. Now it’s a matter of going out with dignity, and keeping his lips sealed. 

That won’t be possible if Zeran recognizes him. 

Nimai hides behind his hair, head hung low, and listens as the footsteps approach. 

“I am told you were found putting your nose where it doesn’t belong,” Zeran says, a hint of amusement to his words. “Awfully unwise of you.” He takes a minute to circle Nimai’s bound form, watching him, his bound wings, the simple uniform he’s wearing - not his usual, proper uniform, thank the gods. 

When he’s done, he comes in front of him and reaches for his hair, taking hold of the roots and pulling Nimai’s head back. “Now, let’s see what…” His voice trails off, his dark eyes going a little wide. 

Nimai looks back at him, blank faced, slowly breathing out. “Commander.” For once he allows his accent to give the words a gentle lilt. “A pleasure.” 

The demon tilts his head gently to the side, eyes strangely intense. “Hello, darling.” A soft murmur, almost awed. “What a situation you got yourself in, mh?” 

[levwrites]

If you ever struggle with finding ideas for a story, my best advice is this:

Read bad books.

Read bad books in genres you're interested in and get so angry at the story, the character development, the writing itself, that there is not other choice but to take the skeleton of that book and make it better. I tend to allow myself one deep hate read once a year or so and so far, I've always came out of those, even DNFs, with ideas of how I would handle a story with the premise better, or even a hint of an idea the author never explored.

It's almost like fanfiction, but you hate the original material so much you scratch the serial number off before you even start writing it. It starts with spite, then turns into love as the story takes shape into something that is your own.

So whenever you're struggling with new ideas, read bad books.

[levwrites]

[levwrites]

my sad (but happy!!!) little sapphic book THE ANATOMY OF DYING is coming out FEB 2 and it would mean the world to me if you could add it to your tbr ♡

[levwrites]

[levwrites]

For 10+ years a child goes to a forest to play/talk with the fairies there despite local legends of their sadism/cruelty, and afflicting fates worse than death. So when the now 16 y/o child is abducted, the traffickers find out not all local legends are BS when the fairies come for their “pet”.

[levwrites]

"After all that you've done to me, to us, why would I let you live? Why shouldn't I kill you right now?"

I love you. It's a useless thing in their chest, words that will never get to be spoken from their lips. Instead, they say what they know will actually save them: "I know where your lover is."

Their enemy's eyes, the eyes of their most beloved, go wide. The weapon raised over them trembles, then lowers.

"For your sake, I hope you are not lying." There is only anger in that voice so dear to them. "Now lead the way."

[levwrites]

[levwrites]

November looms near, so I'll ask the hard question: who's prepping for NaNo? How is it going?

We are mildly going insane over here.

[levwrites]

[levwrites]

The King's Favorite

The Knight just wants to give his report, but today his King has other plans.

A prequel scene featuring the Knight and the King from Vows.

For a while the Knight's reports have gone directly to the King. Sometimes in person. There is a specific sitting room that seems dedicated to that, or at least so the servants murmur when they think the Knight will not hear them.

He knows they love to gossip, and tolerates that behavior as long as they're not disrespectful towards his King. A single out-of-line word is always met with harsh reprimand.

Nothing scandalous ever happens in that room, in any case: the King always sits on one of the couches, and the Knight can enjoy the soft armchairs.

Until one day, the King pats the cushion next to him. "Sit here, my Knight."

The Knight stops halfway to the armchair, perplexed for a second. But it's not his job to question orders. He goes to the King and sits down next to him, leaving a few centimetres between them. Not daring to invade the King's space.

Not the most efficient way of giving a report.

The King turns a little to look at him. "I'm listening."

"Sire." The Knight imitates him. "The villa had the information we'd been looking for. I personally interrogated the owner-"

Suddenly, the King's hand is on the back of his neck. His warm calloused fingers dig in the Knight's muscles, rubbing gently. "Yes?"

The Knight trembles, words failing him. Oh. He tries to keep going, desperately struggling to maintain composure. "The owner. He told me about his work partner, a certain Decimus Tane. We believe-"

The King starts scratching his scalp, fingers getting under his hair. Mussing it up, just a little. He says nothing, just keeps looking at him with his dark, intense eyes.

The Knight shivers, waves of desperate pleasure coming off of him. He bites his lips and stops his sentence in its tracks again, afraid a helpless sound is going to come out instead.

"Go on, darling." A quiet order, low.

The pet name resonates inside his head like a bomb going off; the shiver is more violent this time. The Knight sends him a desperate look. What are you doing to me? He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping to get through his report if he at least doesn't have to look at him. What's going on? An overwhelmed thought.

Little by little, the King has been drawing him in. Leaning him sideways, towards himself - and the Knight has been too focused on not melting in his arms to notice.

"...we believe the operation is using them as faces. Their business is the perfect cover." He takes another breath to keep going.

His cheek meets the King's shoulder.

The breath gets caught in his throat. His eyes open again, shocked.

The King wraps his other arm around him in a loose hug. One hand holding his nape, the other caressing his hair.

Immediately, the Knight gives up on his useless fight: he melts in his King's arms, rewarded by the King's pleased hum.

"There you go."

The Knight isn't really sure where this is going. He feels terribly unprofessional, overwhelmed, faintly shivering every few seconds.

But the King is holding him, and caresses him gently. He can't believe the King is holding him. He can't believe he is melted in his arms, on his couch, in his sitting room.

He called me darling. A faint thought.

"How are you feeling, darling?"

The Knight shivers again at hearing the pet name, helpless to do anything else. Said with that voice...

He is my King. He asked me a question.

"...I feel overwhelmed, Sire." It feels odd to call him that while leaning on his shoulder, his arms around him. "I am not... used to this." Then, more quietly. "I am enjoying it." Like he's afraid he'll be punished for it, no matter how nonsensical the thought.

Despite the nervousness, he is happy. He never let himself even think about something like this, even after the King started touching him sometimes. Now that it's happening...

The Knight stays very still, afraid he will do something wrong.

His King smiles, pleased. "I know." He keeps touching him. Keeps caressing his hair. "Can you keep telling me about your mission?" Not an order, but a polite request.

If you stop doing unexpected things, Sire, perhaps I could concentrate. No bite to the thoughts.

"Of course, Sire." The Knight supposes he can tell him everything from against his shoulder. In his arms. He doesn't quite understand how he ended up here, but he's not going to protest.

And when he's finally done despite the shivers and the gentle pleasure of being held, the King presses warm lips against his temple before finally releasing him. It's a curse and a blessing - especially since the Knight is starting to suspect this will not be a one time thing.

It's going to be the end of me.

But there is no protest in his heart. He would deny his King nothing.