#7 snippets 7 people

[autumnalwalker]

Seven Snippets Seven People (Part 1)

Thank you for the tag, @mysticstarlightduck.

I've actually had two of this tag game sitting in my Drafts for a while now, and given what I just wrote last night for Chapter 21 of Empty Names I thought it might be fun to combine them a bit. This most recently written bit was basically one long sequence of Eris tripping out and losing her sense of self due to exposure to a Lovecraftian eldritch entity and experiencing warped hallucinatory versions of old memories that have either happened or been referenced earlier in the story.

So I thought it would be fun to put all those scenes back-to-back with the earlier parts that they're referencing.

But before I get started, softly passing the tag to @talesofsorrowandofruin, @druidx, @emeraldmew, @oh-no-another-idea, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @theimperium, @acertainmoshke, and the usual open tag for anyone else who wants it.

(And here's the link to Part 2)

(Content Warning for some violence and mild body horror.)

Starting off with a conversation between Eris and Gretchen (her ex) a bit before this whole sequence starts:

“I’m sorry,” Gretchen says.  “Like you said, I wasn’t really myself when I was going on like that.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“It’s just… You know what it’s like.  The rush, the thrill, the anticipation.  The drumbeat in the back of your head that seems too loud to be simply your own heart.  The electric tingle down your spine that spreads through your whole body.  The way smell and taste start blurring together and your other senses all start feeding each other so that the whole world seems more.  The craving.  The memory of blood’s viscosity and the way a drop’s trail down the back of your hand catches on all the little hairs and gathers in the pores and creases.  The constant knowledge of how good the climax of the hunt feels.  Has felt.  Will feel next time.”

“I do.  All the more reason for you not to go in there.”

“It’s like that all the time now.  Even basking in that moment right after a kill it only ebbs away to a murmur.  It’s enough to make you think it might not be so bad if you never felt anything else.”

“Only ever feeling one thing?  Sounds like death to me, and I’d rather die as myself.”

Gretchen’s laugh is soft and bitter.  “You always say that.  Have you ever stopped to think that it might be becoming more yourself, not less?”

Now let us rewind a bit, back to the side story "There Are No Dogs In the Dog Park" with a scene from the POV of a werewolf being helped through her first transformation by Eris:

Howling.  All around her.  Inside her.  From her.  From her?

Lights growing so bright.  Nearly hurts. Colors warping draining distorting.  No more red.  No more green.  Wash of blues and yellows and grays. 

So loud.  Noises deafening.  Too much all at once.  Smells too.  So many.  So sharp.  Sickening. 

“She’s panicking!”

“First time’s always a trip.  She’ll get through it.”

Skin crawling.  Stretching.  Bones cracking, extending, filling in.  Doesn’t hurt but feels wrong.  Alien.  Itchy.  Where’s the mass coming from?  Can’t think about that.  Itches too much.  Outside and in.  Try to scratch.  Skin feels too soft.  Scratch feels too sharp. 

Look down.  Flinch back up.  Down again.  Arms covered in fur.  Hands end in claws.  Muscle growing as she watches.  She whimpers. 

“Sarah.  Sarah, look at me.”

Look up again.  Piercing eyes.  Solid face.  Holding her in place without touching.  An anchor. 

“You’re going to be alright.  Just breathe.  Take it slow.”

Nod.  Try to speak.  To say “okay.”  Hear a bark instead. 

Clap hands to mouth.  Hit her face too soon.  Mouth and nose are too far out.  Don’t think of the word for it.  Don’t make it real. 

Try to stand up.  Stumble.  Center of mass is all wrong.  Joints don’t bend right.  Body so heavy.  Struggle back up.  Look around.  Surrounded by wolves and things that are almost wolves but wrong.  Where is she?  How did she get here?

“Sarah…”

People here too.  Staring at her.  Why are they looking at her?  Please stop looking at her.  Go away.  Get away.  Need to get away.

“She’s running!”

“It’s fine!  She just needs time to work through it.  Follow but give her space!”

Keep moving.  Two legs?  Four?  Which works better?  Find a rhythm.  Pick up speed.  Just need to get away.  Can’t get away from herself.  Something wrong inside her.  Need to get it out.  Get it out!

Fence ahead.  Trapped.  In a cage.  Need to get it out.  Need to get out.  Need to escape. 

“She’s going for the fence!”

“Should I tranq her?”

“Jeez, calm down guys.  Don’t worry, I got this.”

Hand on the chainlinks, furry and clawed.  Is that really her hand?  Who else’s could it be?  Feels wrong.  What does right even look like?  Stop looking.  Just climb.  Pull to climb.  Pulling rips the metal away.  Breaks the links.  Snaps and pops hurt her ears.  Too loud.  Everything is too loud.  So strong.  Monstrously strong.  She’s a monster.  She’s a monster.  She’s -

“Sarah…”

Is that her name?  Is that her?

Turn around.  Someone right behind her.  Looks familiar.  Looks too small.  

“I know yer freaking out right now, but I’m going to need ya to get away from the fence.  Can’t have you getting lost out there.”

Solid presence.  An anchor.  Remember to breathe.  A hand extended.  Reach out to take it.

“That’s right.  Now let’s get you back to the others.”

Now then, let's us look at the nightmare version of that:

Eris is hunting.

A chill wind blows across a moonlit prairie.  The rush, the thrill, the anticipation, are almost too much to bear as she chases down a pack of lupine shadows.  One falls to a spear.  Another is caught by its tail and dragged to the ground.  A third turns and raises itself on two legs to face its hunter.  Its claws meet with only open air.  Her claws meet with its heart.

There is a disappointing lack of blood.  They are naught but shadows afterall.

The pack’s lone survivor sprints for the treeline, wild with fear, only to find a chainlink fence between itself and safety.  She is still half human, and her eyes are fully so when she looks back at her hunter.

There’s a name Eris should remember and call out at this part.  She doesn’t, but what does it matter?  It’s just a beast.

What was she hunting again?  It doesn’t matter.  It’s all just prey in the end.

The clock turns back to another conversation between Eris and Gretchen, reminiscing on old times:

Eris gasps in mock indignation.  “Me?  A menace?”

“You got an amusement park shut down.”

“Miraclezone Fun Park had already closed its doors for four whole days by the time we got there, thank you very much.  You know, on account of all the mysterious deaths that got our attention in the first place.”

“Maybe, but derailing a roller coaster so that it crashes into the middle of an amphitheater certainly didn’t help their odds of reopening once the weird ape spider things that were eating the night shift employees were dealt with.”

“Says the woman who decided to draw the beasts out by plugging her phone into the sound system, turning on all the stage lights, and doing a solo dance number without realizing how many there were infesting the park.  You’re lucky my aim was good enough to take out half of them when I landed.”

“More like you’re lucky I was fast enough to dodge that mess.  I’ll hand it to you though, you made one helluva first impression climbing out of the wreckage, ripping off one of the coaster’s safety bars one-handed and using it as a club to lay into the rest of the… what even were those things anyway?”

“Some alchemist’s escaped mad science experiments.  It was in the Crossherd papers a few days later when the guy got bagged for a gross violation of the Masquerade after the cops showed up and found a bunch of dead eight-legged monkeys.”  Eris shakes her head in exasperation.  “I still can’t believe we didn’t get caught for that.”

“Fitzy’s always been good at covering for his bar’s patrons.  It’s half the point of 121813.”  Gretchen pauses, searching her memory.  “That night was your first time there, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.  You offered to buy me a drink and I was too busy trying to hide the fact that my arm was broken to turn you down.”

“Your arm was broken?”

“And a few ribs.  Did something to my ankle too, but by that point I already had a good grasp on how fast I heal and I was trying to look cool for the chick who was killing rabid chimeras with a spear in time with the baseline on metal music blasting from stadium speakers.”

But this memory too can become twisted:

The chainlink fence rattles and shrieks when she tears it down and stalks between the support struts of the rollercoaster.  The drumbeat in the back of her head seems too loud to simply be her own heart.  Perhaps it is the music pounding from that amphitheater over there.  Eight-legged shadows leap from support strut to support strut and skitter along the tracks above.  What an annoyance, that noise is luring her prey away from her.  

A freezing from the spear, a few good kicks, and a mighty heave are all it takes to knock out the nearest pylon and set the entire rollercoaster around her crashing down.  The music of the collapsing metal all around her is enough to drown out the metal of the music from the amphitheater, but the drumbeat in her skull is louder still.

She steps on one of the wretched chimerical shadows trying to free itself from the wreckage as she stalks toward the alleyway behind the amphitheater.

Oh, yes, that’s right.  She’s hunting Gretchen.  The snake, the spider, her lioness.

A moment of comparative memory from Lacuna's POV, back in Chapter 10, in the wake of the team's first mission together as a group:

It is well and truly night by the time the two of them ascend the stairwell of their building.  Neither of them break the heavy silence as they pass Lacuna’s floor on by up to Eris’s together.  Lacuna strains to keep from grunting as Eris leans on her more heavily than she had been for the last ten minutes - ever since she started limping - while she fishes out her keys and opens the door to her apartment.  It’s Lacuna who quietly flips the lightswitch as they step inside and then gently shuts and locks the door behind them.

It’s not the first time Lacuna’s helped her friend to bed.  That had been about three months after meeting her, and had thoroughly killed the crush she’d had on her at the time but thankfully been too scared to confess.  The fact that Eris took to calling her “sis” not long after had nailed said crush’s coffin shut tight.  But in all honesty, she prefers their relationship this way.

It is however the first time Lacuna’s seen what got her friend into this state for herself.  Sure, even that first time Eris had regaled her with the dramatic tale of the monster hunt that left her tired enough and badly cut enough to ask for help getting home (that one had been something called a “hodag”), but she’d always found her friend already some distance away from wherever the battle had taken place, even on the night when she took Eris to Doc’s instead of home.  And even on that worst night, sitting in the waiting room of the clinic they met at, the reality of what her best and only friend does for fun never truly sunk in until now.

What was that first encounter that made Eris ask Lacuna to help her get home? It wasn't this. This is just a twisted shadow of that memory cut short...

The alleyway is awash with the scent of buzzard meat, skunk perfume, and pine scented car air freshener emanating from the dumpster at the far end.  An electric tingle runs down her spine and spreads through her whole body as she walks past the garbage truck that has taken her to so many trailheads with signs of new quarry within the dream-born city.  The shadow that erupts from the refuse is all horns, claws, spines, and teeth.  It is long enough to wrap itself around her, heavy enough to pull her down to the ground when it does, and vicious enough to keep wrestling with her even after she snaps off its saber fangs.

She recalls a dim memory that this thing once hurt her badly enough that she called for help to return to her home lair afterward.  The one who answered should never have had to see her like that.  She will make this shadow pay for that.

By the time she realizes the shadow is dead and gone, the pavement is shattered, the dumpster is rent in twain, and the engine of the garbage truck she was once responsible for is totalled.  There is no proper satiation to hunting shadows.  All chase and fight, but no release.  She retrieves her spear and vaults over the wall at the end of the alleyway.  Perhaps when she finds her true prey at the end of this she will bring satisfaction.

No, that’s not right, she’s supposed to be searching for Gretchen, not hunting her.

(Continued in Part 2)

[tabswrites]

7 Snippets, 7 People Pt. 2

I was tagged by @ceph-the-ghost-writer here and @winterandwords here! Thanks to you both :)

I decided to share some snippets from a couple of my sidelined WIPs that I still have some love for, as well as ToL!

Rules: Share 7 snippets and tag 7 people!

1. Ascension (side WIP) Ch. 1

The knight surrendered to him willingly. He stood at the entrance of the fur-lined tent, the torchlight casting shadows on his angular face. His armor, it seemed, had been left behind, leaving him barefoot in a plain blue jacket and brown linen trousers that hung loosely from his hips.

“I’ve come for my men,” he stated clearly, staring directly into the prince’s eyes.

He tilted his head to the side and gave him a crooked smile–indulging the knight’s boldness, for now. “One man in exchange for three? I’m not so sure that’s a fair trade, human.”

The knight seemed to anticipate his reluctance and grinned with ease, two tiny dents becoming visible on each side of his face. “No? What about the location of the Umbra?” He took a step forward and lowered his voice. “What is that worth to the prince of demons?”

2. Ascension, Ch. 3

He watched the crocodile continue to sit there, unmoving, a single green eye staring at him with a thin, vertical pupil. It unnerved him more than he cared to admit–and he didn’t scare easily. “Does she have a name, Madame Kosara?”

“Graisse,” she replied with a bigger grin. “It means ‘fat’, for she is fat and happy.” The amusement slid off her face as she got to her feet, the wooden floor creaking beneath her. “Can you say the same for your people, young prince?

3. Ascension, Creation Myth

It is said that the sun was born first, and lived alone for thousands years in her palace of clouds. This was a time when the land had not yet formed, so as she gazed down at the world below, she saw only the endless blue sea. She took comfort in the monotony of the glittering mirror that reflected her melancholic existence. It was nice to have the world to herself, but it was lonely and unchanging. When she would sleep, sometimes she would open her eyes, hoping to see something new, but all she saw was light. Her light.

4. Ascension, Prologue

Before Lady Itis severed the soul of the woman she loved, she gave her one last kiss. The taste, once so sweet, turned bitter as they parted, and how could it not with all the blood between them? The war had ended, but man’s violence was unforgiving and ceaseless. Itis had grown used to seeing the shadows of grief in Queen Sadira’s eyes, but they had consumed her as of late, leaving a fractured shell in her place. When she came to her and asked to be sealed beneath the earth, Itis felt no surprise, only deep sorrow.

5. Tomb of Light, Ch. 4

“Well, well, well.” A voice said just above his head. He twisted his neck and looked directly into a pair of the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. They were a deep blue, so dark they were nearly black, with tiny starbursts of silver around slitted black pupils. Slitted pupils? They floated above a low-hanging tree branch. As he watched, the branch brightened into a pleasant shade of moss green, revealing an otherworldly creature so strange he nearly collapsed at the sight of it.

It was a cat, he guessed, or a cat with some sort of flesh-eating disease that had left it completely hairless. As it stretched out its tiny feet he noticed it had long, webbed toes that bent back at awkward angles. Upon closer examination he determined the cat was not only hairless, but covered in tiny scales like the snakes he used to find in his backyard, though these scales looked much softer. He watched as they changed color once more, this time to bright yellow.

6. ToL, Ch. 6

It was then he was forced to acknowledge what he had been avoiding–he was disgraced, just like her, and no amount of posturing would convince people to ignore the shadow that had settled over him once his uniform had been stripped away. He was a fool to think he could outrun it. The plain black trousers, gray tunic and black boots were all he had left–even his beloved sword, a gift from his father, had been taken from him. He had nothing left but a bitter taste in his mouth and the looming shadow of the girl he loved.

“I don’t know what to do,” he said finally, lowering his head.

“Then stand aside and wait for someone to tell you.”

There it was–control, just within reach, slipping through his fingers like smoke.

7. What We Long For (abandoned WIP)

“As time passed, I watched the small lines on her forehead become more pronounced and her black hair became peppered with gray before she reached the age of 30. I asked her about it once, when I was nothing more than a bratty high school freshman with poor social skills.

She gave me one of her biggest smiles. ‘Who even cares about wrinkles? One day you’ll realize that all of the marks on your skin, every scar, every freckle–they make up constellations that tell the story of how you lived to see another day.’”

Gently tagging: @writingmaidenwarrior @athenswrites @talesofsorrowandofruin @pandoras-comment-box @mysticstarlightduck @pheita @mthollowell-writes

[writinglittlebeasts]

7 snippets, 7 people

tagged by @tabswrites

RULES: i have no good goddamn idea

i will tag @writingamongther0ses @illusionofwriting @indigowriting @thedahliafrog @moonluringfrost and Whoever Else; Open Tag!

from FIXED

Alma took a sharp step back from their opponent and swung a tight, arcing punch into his side. He raised his arms to block a second blow and they aimed low. He bent near in half as their fist collided with his abdomen and Alma leapt onto his back, crawling down his body to wrap their arms around his legs, bunny-kicking his shoulders and taking him to the floor. ✩ Beck was hardly out the door when Anita Koval landed at the bottom of the staircase. Her timing couldn't have been more perfect if she meant to miss him, and Danyil thought that she must have. She fingered the stones that made up her shimmering necklace; not nervous, rather a practiced motion to bring attention to the accessory. From the twisting of the diamonds in the light one's eye traveled to her rings and higher, the sizable earrings. Danyil knew that his mother enjoyed compliments, and so much that she would fish for them even in empty rooms. The world is a stage, she said. It was why, even in the hall, even alone, he was to be on his best behavior. ✩ "You left your pack?" Danyil sounded bewildered and his face was severe. Beck suppressed the urge to step back, trying to seem as confident as he'd felt a moment ago. He'd been foolish to think that Danyil wouldn't be upset. It was obvious how desperate he was for the support of a pack of his own, and to know that Beck had just walked away from his… It had to burn.

from SOME UNNAMED FANTASY WIP

The Tenth Street Melodia Boarding House is the oldest sentient building in Denanm, and so it follows that there convene the most powerful witches. Melodia is so named for the woman who had, presumably, died where the building would one day be built, and a grand portrait of this woman– long-necked and long-haired, with sable eyes that stare unerringly at whoever should enter there –holds sentry opposite the front door. She had been painted long after her death, based on historical records from which the artist had somehow extrapolated details like the riotous bulk of her eyebrows and the placement of her moles. Melodia House herself had not opposed the portrait’s placement, so it must be somewhat mildly accurate.

from A WOLF'S TOOTH FOR REVENGE

She looks up from her book when he enters, her eyes flashing quickly over his face and then away again, like she’s afraid of him. She’s done it every time she’s seen him. Thinking about it after the fact, it’s more likely that she’s trying not to stare at his rather jarring facial scar, but hindsight is clear where the present is unfocused, and Raleigh’s shoulders rise in a defensive shrug. She thinks that he’s a werewolf. The unfamiliar makes her fearful, and she’s uncomfortable in his presence. ✩

Raleigh’s rolled all of his clothing into his shirt when he comes out of the bathroom. It’s a tidy place, mismatched pieces of furniture aside. The blankets on the bed look more inviting than any motel blanket has ever looked before. On the bed are the set Kirby’s chosen, a faded blue shirt and fresh underwear.  “You brought me pants, right?” Raleigh asks, stuffing what he’s holding into their bag.  “As much as I want the answer to be no; yes.” Kirby is at the small table, examining Raleigh’s jacket. “We should’ve put this in the laundry when we had the chance.” ✩ Following the simple act of shifting finds the new turns in a backyard that has, itself, transformed. Raleigh and Kirby rise with the sun alongside a handful of pod deputies, and under the instruction of more senior wolves (and young hecklers awoken by the bustle who call down from windows or out the sliding back door) construct what could generously be called an obstacle course. Baseball tees, kitchen chairs, traffic cones, and fire pits are arranged across the lawn, alongside short stretches of fence and a web or rope pulled taut between trees and furniture. In maneuvering the course, the new turns will get a  feel for their new proportions and posture.

[theunboundwriter]

7 Snippets, 7 People

thank you for the tag @tabswrites !!

Tagging (with no pressure) @stick-a-pencil-in-my-eye , @toribookworm22 , @wild-daffodils , @aether-wasteland-s , @kittensartswriting , @autopsy-im-ill , @gailynovelry

The Sea is in Her Blood Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @fearofahumanplanet @marinesocks @parttimeghost @houndsofcorduff @creatrackers

one:

She hummed, deciding something, and turning away from Jesse. June addressed the rest of his crew, “I’ve decided to show you mercy.” Sheathing her sword, she gestured vaguely with both of her hands, “You are all free to go.”

The rest of her crew followed suit, putting away their various weapons and watching questionably as the men that had boarded their ship pulled themselves to a stand. When Jesse did the same, June was quick to snap her fingers and gain Daring’s attention. “Not him,” she pointed at Jesse, where Daring quickly grabbed hold of both his arms, twisting them uncomfortably. 

“What—?” Jesse began to protest, but June cut him off.

“Throw him in the brig.”

Jesse thrashed wildly in Daring’s hold, but it was not enough for the boy to escape him. “You can’t do this!” Jesse argued. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“You insulted me, Jesse. Be grateful I’m not having you thrown into the sea to join your incompetent captain.”

two:

June gripped the cell bars with an iron-hold. “Give it to me.”

“Nah, not until you let me out of here.”

She squinted her eyes at him, “You realize I can just take it from you, correct?”

Jesse folded the map over itself, folding it and folding it until it was a small fragile square that he could fit between his fingers. He held it up to his lips. “Try it, and I’ll swallow it.”

three:

“How can you say you love me?” June’s eyes snapped back to him. “After everything I’ve done to you?” 

His gaze drifted over to her. Her amber eyes were as bright as the sinking sun outside. “I—” he tried, unable to think of a definite answer. “I can’t explain it. I just do.”

“And that makes you stupid.”

four:

June wanted to scream. She wanted to break through the walls of her cell brick by brick with her bare hands and cry all at the same time. This was for his own good, why couldn’t Red just see that?

“Convincing you to let me stay on the ship, telling you about my past so that you would trust me, trick you into falling in love with me so that I could gain control of your ship and crew, it was all planned. Every single moment we spent together was calculated and plotted and it fulfilled some greater purpose that you wouldn’t understand. So, no, Red. I didn’t love you. I can’t, and I won’t.”

five:

“You thought you could run from me?” He bellowed, laughing at the pitiful form of his former first mate crumpled on the ground. Her amber eyes stared up at him with a seething hatred he had seen before, but this time they were etched with fear and it made his heart dance in his chest. A smile forced its way onto his face. “You’re clever, clever enough to know there’s nothing you can do to disappear somewhere I can’t find you.”

June’s throat was dry. How could this have happened? She thought she had evaded him long enough that she would never see his face again. Yet, here he was, in all his egotistical glory towering over her and casting her in his shadow once again. The town burned around them as they stared at one another, booms and screams echoing in the distance. The smile on his face was enough to make her tremble, but she would not allow him that satisfaction.  

She forced herself to a stand, never taking her eyes off the monster in front of her. June reached down and helped Raleigh to her feet. She would never admit it, but fear throbbed through her veins. 

six:

“I’m sorry,” was the phrase Red finally chose. Two words that made June’s skin crawl. 

“What for?”

She saw the confusion flick across his face, and when he hesitated to answer June said, “You’re not sorry. It’s just something you're expected to say.”

June stood to leave, having come into his quarters to get all of this off her chest and having nothing left to say to him. She began to collect the materials she brought with her, carrying the bandages and cloth in a heap in her arms. As she turned to go, Red grabbed hold of her forearm, and she expectantly waited for him to say what he needed to say to make himself feel better.

“I am sorry,” he told her. “I’m sorry you had to live this life and it made you think you need to put up these walls around you to keep everyone out. I’m sorry for everything that has happened to you—”

“Don’t be,” June interrupted. “There’s nothing you could have done.”

Red’s eyes softened, “And I’m sorry about that too. I’m sorry I didn’t meet you sooner.”

seven:

“You wouldn’t understand!”

Red stared at her, taking in every miniscule detail of her face. The freckles that dotted her nose, the stray hair that cascaded down her face, no matter how many times she tucked it behind her ear it refused to stay. He examined the bruise that colored her left cheek, dancing up to her eye and down to her jawline. The scar: the faintest white line he had ever seen that traveled her forehead and disappeared beneath her brow. His eyes lingered on the bandage on her neck, the red irritated skin that peeked out from the edges. He saw the devastation in her eyes, an emotion he now saw that she had masked with anger. 

“You’re right.” He told her, “I don’t understand. Not yet at least. Will you help me understand?”

June was the first to break eye contact, instead fixating on a mark in the wood. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even want to think about it.”

A sigh from Red. “I want you to know I want to listen if you need someone to talk to. I won’t force it out of you.”

“Why are you taking care of me? What did I do to deserve your help?”

It was a question Red was not anticipating. His brows furrowed. “It’s incredibly sad that you feel that you have to ask that, you realize?”

[phynewrites]

7 snippets, 7 people

Tagged by @at-thezenith

(Most of these are from short stories and a WIP (which I have yet to introduce, take this a teaser or something)  that I’m working on simultaneously LOL)

*

The earth beneath her feet felt soft and wet, as opposed to the hard and dry cement she woke up on. Then that earth was gone again. She shrieked when she took the next step. It was wobbly and unstable. She would have fallen into God knows where, had she not held onto the thick ropes that supported the wooden slab. 

She took deep breaths to calm herself and held on steadily to the rope. She looked back for the first time and saw the shadows standing still, watching her silently. The one resembling Connor was not there. 

So she pushed forward, not knowing what the other side held for her. Somehow, she felt a connection to it, the closer she got the surer she was. **

Thalia backed out from the window. “Zion! Ready your Archers!” she commanded, turning to the man she addressed as Zion. He nodded and went away from the tower hall. The troops affixed their arrows on their bows, when a thundering roar shook the ground again. “Stop!, I … mean no harm… yet.” 

The voice belonged to the creature, as the multiple appendages in its head lifted themselves from the cluster and opened their pincers to let out a chorus of shrill voices. “I… am here… talk.” it said, in a shrieking voice that tried to sound calm but only ended up being sinister. Thalia didn’t take her eyes off the creature. She was terrified and felt her knees shaking. “What do we do?” Gale whispered behind her. 

***

The ghost said, “Remember when I told you a while ago that I hated seeing you like this?” 

“You mean miserable?” Villain said, voice breaking down from the tears flowing in his eyes. Finally, he was able to look up at his father’s eyes and see that they were filled with compassion and longing. How long had he seen someone look at him the same way. So, so long. 

The ghost placed a cold, gentle hand on his hair and caressed it. “I mean alone, with no one to give to and nothing to take. Now, are you content with that?”

****

Now, she regrets being inside the circle. She thought of her exasperated breathing while running, which might have alerted Hero of her presence. Perhaps that was why they also slowed down and walked in this direction because they knew she was following them. Civilian wanted to slap herself for the realization. 

Her suspicions were confirmed when Hero glanced back at her, eyes full of both disappointment and amusement. Civilian felt a flush on her cheeks. None of them said a word, but Hero’s gaze was saying ‘I’m waiting for your explanation.” 

And so, she did give them one. Taking a deep breath, she said “Whether in the City or the forest, the monsters will keep coming for me. I think I’ll be safer with you around, so please-” 

*****

Remembering her actions, she frowned. It was a moment of impulsive action that resulted from confusion and anger. She pinched her nose bridge, and it was the first sensation she felt since she laid down to the shore, the first time she moved a muscle. All the effort of erasing her senses to meditate in the sea vanished. She could now feel the froth of the sea, the cold air blowing her hair, and the sound of a voice calling out. “Moi! Moi!”

 A little startled, she opened her eyes and saw the dark haired woman with the orange eyes. The one the children called “Luna.” She was shivering and wrapping a coat in her shoulders. This puzzled Moi. It wasn’t that cold, and she was the one laying on the shore in water, in nothing but shorts and a sheer blouse. 

Right, she’s a weather fairy with resistance to extreme temperatures. 

******

Maja sat cross legged, facing the training Archer. “I’ve spied around the other factions. They think we are the most formidable threat” -she cupped her hands in her mouth and giggled- “It’s a little laughable actually. Just because we left the fortress unscathed doesn’t mean we’re the biggest threat.” 

Ajaye sighed with a glint of annoyance. “Do you not think that their fear has bearing?” 

“Not really,” Maja said. “We’re a pretty powerful team! But I think that sorceress is still the most powerful. She can summon spirits and shadows to attack us, we would have no choice but to face those head on before getting to their master.” 

*******

Mary and the child merely stared. His appearance puzzled her the most, bearing signs of aging and youth at the same time. Strangely, there was a comforting presence around him that urged her to stay. 

This was a dream, right? 

The thought occurred, and she was not so sure if she really is still in a dream. It didn’t matter to her anyway. 

The child cocked his head to the side. Mary imitated him, and they both rocked their heads back to the side. While Mary wore a confused expression, the child did not show any. It opened its mouth. 

Mary swore that she did not hear a voice coming out of the child’s mouth, but something spoke loudly in her head. 

“Mortal.” 

Mary didn’t respond.

-------

Tagging @winterandwords @bingsoo-jung @moonandris @carrotblr @beverlyannemichel @dragonthusiast @morganwriteblr

[cljordan-imperium]

7 Snippets 7 People

Thank you for the tag @oh-no-another-idea, sorry it took me a bit to get to it.

I'm going to tag - @shipping-through-eternity @saltysupercomputer @writerfae @aalinaaaaaa

“I just meant…” Phaedra couldn’t finish because she was laughing so hard.  With the way that all of the men seemed to be protective, she doubted any of the women were going to be alone much, even if it meant that some of the men would be sleeping on the couches that were in the bedrooms.  She had no doubt Deacon or Leandre would be for Yael, if not having to move another couch in so they both could. “I think we knew exactly what you meant, Princess.  And I think that we can handle bein in the bed with ya, gorgeous.”  Thinius waggled his brows as he dropped his arm around her shoulder and moved to get them out of the room before the conversation devolved more.  As much as he normally would have loved to take Phaedra to the bed, Dez was there and he was still getting a grip for how the whole situation was feeling.  

2.

Her touch almost caused a greater ache in his chest than his realization that he had been an ass to assume and not let her finish her sentence.  If Bella had reacted with anger or hurt, he would have understood and he deserved her reproach; instead she had been understanding and was worried herself.  Adriel felt that it was he who did not deserve this female as his mate.  His anger, which was indeed legendary amongst the Heavens and Hells, was something he now feared would hurt her and potentially drive her away.  If he lost her…

“I am sorry, Bella.  I have a temper, one which I have never had reason to contain nor restrict.  I did not mean to offend or hurt you.  I promise to do better in the future.” Slowly Adriel’s eyes opened and his head rose to look at her face. “You could not disappoint me.” Softly he kissed her, keeping his eyes on hers. 

3.

Horace’s jaw ticked and he controlled his breathing through his nose.  He wasn’t a demon, he had a problem with innocents being hurt or used, but fighting with Casperius was going to get him nowhere.  He’d have to warn Vasilus as well, otherwise there was sure to be another explosion sometime along the way, and Cormoran might not be around to defuse that one.  “Do what you want Casperius,” he leaned forward, “but when she figures out how you really are, do you think she’s going to want anything to do with you?  The drugs, the women, the booze, the death?  You’re bringing her into that?  Don’t bullshit me that she means anything more to you than a new plaything and when you’re done, you’ll do what you always do and discard her and move on.” His eyes narrowed as his head also tilted, a sarcastic smirk forming.  Horace was pushing buttons and he’d stopped giving a fuck. “Then Cormoran, Vasilus,  and I will clean it up so that she doesn’t end up Matty’s victim since you’ve already put her on his radar.  We’ve gotten good at cleaning up your messes over the years, The Source knows someone has to.”  Horace turned to head to the stairs that the other two had headed down. He was done with the conversation and had other things to attend to.  It was out of loyalty to Cormoran more than Casperius that Horace stayed at the manor and kept things in order.

Casperius’ hand shot out and grabbed Horace’s bicep, stopping him from walking off.  “How did Matty find that out?  You and Vasilus are the only ones who knew about her.”  It hadn’t occurred to him about that till Horace, himself, mentioned Matty finding her.  Cormoran wouldn’t have said anything to anyone at his estate, so it was someone on his own, and that pissed Casperius off.

4.

“I will trust you…for now, Lucifer.” Finally she answered him, her voice smooth as velvet.  It was rich and warm, a little deep for a female, but held a sensual note that tended to draw people in.

“I promise that you will not regret it, Cassandra.”  The corners of his lips lifted, reflecting his pleasure at her answer as he slid the ring upon her finger.  Lucifer had been saving the bauble for just the right time, and just the right person.  It seemed he had found both now, and that fact additionally pleased him.  “I am no angel, like your previous companion,” his eyes crinkled at the edges in humor, “but I am no longer the male that I was in the past.  My grandchildren have shown me the ere of my ways, I can assure you.”  That they let him go down into Caligo and enjoy some of the activities there did help.

5.

“I’m kind of possessive of my keyboard and mouse though.  Gonna have to insist on hands off.  You’re free to play with controllers to my systems, Red Hot, but not in my chair or at my controls back there.”  He raised his chin towards where his PC gaming setup was. “Back there I’m the king.  I got room for a Queen at my side though if ya wanna.”  

“And what exactly are you going to do if I try to take it over? Hmmm…?”  Del tipped her head to the side and narrowed her eyes up at him.  “Or if I just sit on you and take over?  Maybe I don’t need my own system, I’ll just take yours.”  She was still trying to come up with a good name for him.  I bugged her that he had come up with a good one for her right away and she was struggling, but she would.  His hand on her hip didn’t help, he was distracting her, most likely on purpose.

6.

Turning to face her, his dark eyes met those captivating greens of hers, “what is wrong with me?”

Ice water replaced blood flowing through Adalicia’s veins and it froze her in her spot.  “Excuse me?”  It was out of her mouth before her brain could think better of it.  And she heard Grea clear his throat and movement behind her.

“Kel, what are you doing?” Grae’s hands landed gently on Adalicia’s hips so as not to startle her, then he stepped so his chest was pressed lightly against her back. He wanted to make sure that she knew he was there to support her.  

7.

“Yeah, and you’ll wait here till she’s ready, boys.”  Thinius smuggly grinned as he watched the muscle in the King’s jaw tick.  Oh, he was wound tight.  Could Thinius get him to explode out here?  That would get them back to having fun a lot faster.  “Unless ya just want to leave the pretty box that I know ya brough with ya with us boys.   She might be a while.  And if you’re looking for a bride, well, you might as well head out.  She doesn’t like royal cock.”   Now he grinned, Mithos cleared his throat.  The King was getting red around the neck, and there was the ever so faint sound of grinding teeth.

Leave it to Thinius to piss off royalty before they’d even made it in to see Brie.  That was what he was out here to do, and he did it well.  Mithos always had thought it should be Dez at the door, but after a few of these visits lately, he was seeing the wisdom in picking the chaos demon to be with him here.  Besides being the joint Captain of the Queen’s Guard, he could be the most annoying asshole that Mithos had ever encountered. Thankfully he had never been on the receiving end of Thinius goading.

“If you were expecting to have your ass kissed as it was at times under the previous administration, Kellen, as you can see, the Queen bows to no one.”  Mithos smirked at the King.  They knew each other from when Lucifer reigned in Hell.  His tone was not as flippant, nor as cocky as Thinius�� but his grin was just as smug.  There was a challenge in his eyes that dared Kellen to say or do something, anything that would provoke a confrontation.

THE IMPERIUM CHRONICLES TAG LIST - @ceph-the-ghost-writer @kjscottwrites @writingpotato07 @saltysupercomputer @careful-pyromancer @late-to-the-fandom @autumnalwalker @perasperaadastrawriting @fearofahumanplanet @jessica-writes22 @dogmomwrites @mjjune @verba-writing @blind-the-winds @shipping-through-eternity @outpost51 @inkspellangel @blind-the-winds @sunset-a-story @writingmaidenwarrior @clairelsonao3

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptober 2024 | Day 7 | The Bee's Whumptober Masterlist

SAVE US BOTH

AI-less Whumptober: Field medicine, running out of supplies, “Hold on, we’re going to have to improvise.”

Whumptober: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES | Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

Content: war setting, blood/wounds, death/dying motifs

* * * * * * * *

Caretaker let the green of the magical forcefield spread all down their skin like dripping bright green honey made of pure light. They’d be very visible. But that’s okay. Because they’d be safe.

Because what they were about to do was so immensely stupid. But it was necessary, it was so, so necessary. Their heart beat like a drum in their chest. Their nerves were shot through.

They took a deep breath. 

No turning back.

Whumpee needs them.

Then they ran.

Run.

Run. Run run run RUN RUN RUN RUN RUNRUNRUNRURNRUNRUN–

Explosions surrounded them, gunshots CRACK CRACK CRACK BOOMMMMM bright light explosions unsteady ground rumble rumble rumble SHAKE SHAKE BOOOOMMMM.

Their body flew through the air. They SLAM into the packed earth and slick, scratchy grass. Dizzy, dizzy, terrifying, shaking. Where was up or down, where was gravity?

Wait. Slick grass?

Slick?

Caretaker paled as they held up their arm. Then paled. The world shook.

Blood.

Who’s blood?

Who’s blood was this? Was it their own? Who bled here, who died here–?

Doesn’t matter keep moving. Get to Whumpee.

They felt the green glow of their magical shield spread around them once more, bathing the ruby-red marring their skin into a nasty dark black.

Their breath shuddered. Energy drained from their muscles into the brilliant jade.

Their feet pounded against the uneven earth, over loose dirt and pot-holes torn out by haphazard grenades, flying through the grass as bullets whizzed past their ears and plinked off the brilliant sparkling green.

To Whumpee.

Lying barely shaking and fatally wounded in the grass. 

Caretaker dove over them and crashed into the ground hard, bitlets of dirt pelting their face, grinding between their teeth, penetrating into their eyes and blinding them.

They pushed up and clawed at the mewling Whumpee, and Whumpee seized in terror, but Caretaker didn’t stop other than to scream “Whumpee, help me!” over the roaring gunshots and agonized voices shouting orders and pleading for mercy as they spread their jade forcefield over both their entire bodies.

Ba-bump.

Fatigue slammed into their chest like a freight train. They kept going.

Forcefield stuttered.

They barely managed to drag the catatonic Whumpee through the tall blood-shining grass and behind a rock that barely covered them both before the forcefield spluttered and faltered it’s last dying, shaking tendrils of protection before winking out of existence. But they were safe.

BOOOMMMMMM. Gunshots, PLAT PLAT PLAT, screaming, crying, shouting orders, footsteps running, rustling grass and dirt raining from the heavens.

Mostly.

Be-bump, ba-bump.

The world winked out of existence for just a second. Their vision blurred, pressure grasped their head on their head like an unyielding metal claw, metallic wires shooting through the top of their mouth and they couldn’t catch their breath. 

So tired. Running out of time.

Save Whumpee.

“WHUMPEE!!” they cried, screaming with all their might in Whumpee’s face. Their eyes barely opened.

Their jacket and shirt were practically ripped to shred, their body showcasing the finest of shrapnel bathed in the slick red liquid of life.

It was a wonder they were still alive. Caretaker nearly collapsed in relief. 

“Whumpee! I’m here to save you!” they shouted. So warped, they could barely hear themself, it was as if everything was underwater.

Whumpee said something back. Dazed, quiet.

“WHAT?!”

Whumpee clenched their teeth, and only then did Caretaker realize they there were teartracks running down their blood- and dirt-stained face.

“I’M NOT GONNA MAKE IT!! SAVE YOURSELF!!”

A desperate attempt to push Caretaker off. Caretaker barely even had to fight to keep both of them safely behind the rock.

BOOOOM!!

“I’m NOT LEAVING YOU TO DIE!!”

They scrambled through their medic box. Wrapped bandages where they could, taking the blood-soaked ones away, applying slave, new bandages, how were these bandages already soiled with blood?? So much blood too much blood, they were losing too much blood, more blood, more salve, more bandages, JUST STAY ALIVE–

Out. 

They didn’t have enough. 

They tried to stop the bleeding with what little magic they could muster, the light green tendrils snaking up and down Whumpee’s body and seeping into their wounds. They winced. They shook. 

The blackness encroached Caretaker, threatening to swallow them whole

Their brilliance faded. 

Not enough.

Not nearly enough.

No.

No. NO NO NO NO SHIT FUCK SHIT THEY NEEDED TO MAKE IT OUT OF THIS–

Idea.

A terrible, horrible, batshit insane idea that would get them both killed.

But they were both dead anyway.

Whumpee could get them out. They were stronger, they were the soldier. Caretaker was just a medic. 

A medic with magic.

Whumpee could save them both.

“WHUMPEE!!” Caretaker screamed. Whumpee’s eyes fluttered open again. They cringed and curled in on themself, around the new blood-soaked bandages and the healing salve and the shrapned invading their chest.

Tears ran down their face. They cried in earnest now as they stared up into Caretaker’s fiercely caring, pleading eyes.

“I’m so sorry!” They screamed, shoving their face into Caretaker's chest so they didn’t have to witness their twisted face of death. 

Maybe caretaker wouldn’t have to watch the light leave their eyes when they died. Whumpee could see the light beckoning them now–

“NO!!” Caretaker screeched, clutching Whumpee’s head to their chest even further, fisting thw hair in the tightest embrace, holding them like they would never hold each other again. 

Because honestly? Who knew if they ever would?

“I’M SORRY! I’M SO SORRY! PICK UP WHERE I’M LEAVING OFF!!” They cried into Whumpee’s hair.

“SAVE US BOTH!!”

The battlefield glowed green as Caretaker unleashed every ounce of magic they ever could have stored in their body into Whumpee, green tentacles of the most brilliant lime and jade and forest and honeydew spread and writhed across the entire battlefield, before arcing up into a single point and diving straight down from whence they came.

Whumpee’s skin, their clothes, their very being glowed brighter than Caretaker could have ever seen, pushing back the blackness for just a moment as they shook and spasmed in Caretaker’s arms.

Then the black won over. 

Caretaker went limp.

* * * * * * * *

Whumptober Taglist: @whumperofworlds | @whumptober-archive | @regular-whump-sfx

(If you wanna be added or subtracted from the taglist, don't be afraid to ask!)

[space-writes]

Seven snippets seven people

tagged by @oh-no-another-idea, thank you! I’m seven chapters into this rewrite if you include the prologue, which I do, so here’s a snippet from each so far~

[ID - a green and black decorative divider]

1.

The ancient thing stretched as much as it was able in the dark stone it had been entombed in. Joints cracked beneath faded scales; precious metals and gems that needed light to glitter tumbled from where they had been embedded in sleeping flesh. The long tail uncoiled, sending an army of spiders and other, nastier little many-legged things scurrying for the safety of the deeper dark. A faint glow returned to its eyes, a deep orange that burned with starved malice. Valloroth had forgotten it as it slumbered away the years. It had not forgotten Valloroth.

2.

“Your price, Prince Sorrow?” Sorrow laughed, and waved without looking back at them. “Don’t worry, my Lord. The bill is already on your desk.”

3.

He had a sword, and the monster had a body. All he had to do was bring the former into deadly contact with the latter.

4.

“What’s all this ‘we’ business? I can let a giant monster do whatever it likes.”

5.

The wizard was Damiri. “Do you prefer star elf, or snow elf?” Lucian had asked. “I prefer Leshanna,” she’d said, primly, “or Miss Orvad’ray Tethkatla to strangers, but given you’re all in my bedroom, I think it’s a little late for that.”

6.

Quest slammed their scimitar down with absolutely no finesse, but more force than Lucian possessed in his entire body. “No worries, that’s what we have swords for, right? You go that way, I’ll go this way, then on three—bam! Got it?” “I—” But Quest was already going. A dozen strategies flew through Lucian’s mind, none of which matched anything the Zashi had said, so he did as he’d once been told and forgot the books. His feet carried him forwards, and his arms brought the sword around in a clean swipe that he had to abort at the last second because it almost took off Quest’s arm. “I said go that way!” “I did go that way!”

7.

The arcanist at last turned in his chair, fixing Sorrow with a piercing golden eye. The other was nothing more than a glint deep within an empty socket of bare bone—half of Rivaanlehnim’s head was a skinless skull, living flesh melding into bone along a weaving seam of scar tissue. Where teeth had used to sit on that side were now metal-cast replicas, each of which, Sorrow knew, had been painstakingly inscribed with spells that required but a word to bring to life.

[ID - a green and black decorative divider]

tags & taglist under the cut!

no-pressure tagging @the-inkwell-variable @revenancy @ceph-the-ghost-writer @charlesjosephwrites @sam-glade @talesofsorrowandofruin and @zmwrites

Valloroth taglist: @cherrybombfangirlwrites @reininginthefirewriting @memento-morri-writes @foxboyclit @lawful-evil-novelist

@at-thezenith @morganwriteblr @fayeiswriting @serenanymph

@sam-glade @viscerawrites @thegreatobsesso @flower-reads (ask to be +/-)

[druidx]

Seven Snippets, Seven People

Thanks for the tag @eli-writes-sometimes <3

Tagging back: @aalinaaaaaa @thewriteflame @wildswrites @aquadestinyswriting @artdecosupernova-writing @autumnalwalker @blind-the-winds @eli-writes-sometimes @hannahcbrown @oh-no-another-idea @rhikasa @swordsoulwrites @winglesswriter @andromeda-grace @writingmaidenwarrior @wispstalk @late-to-the-fandom @athenswrites

Rules: post seven snippets and tag seven people.

Once again, all these are from Alexis Dalliance vs the Evil of Titan, in my unending quest to edit the damn thing.

One

The other elf… Now he was a conundrum. He stood, ramrod straight, directly in front of the Captain's desk. He'd yet to change into any issued armour, and still wore what amounted to peasant rags – a tatty, oversized, undyed shirt and brown woolen trousers darned to an inch of their life, the whole ensemble held together with rope suspenders. Alexis squinted, sniffing suspiciously. Yes, there was also a faint miasma of animal dung from his direction. An elven farmer was a distinctly unusual thing. One to keep an eye on, that was for sure…

Two

On her way to the mess hall Alexis ran into Ithanor and Richard. It was Ithanor who heard her yelling to wait, where Richard would have sleep-walked on. Richard's limbs drooped, reminding her of a weeping willow, but Ithanor was as bright and alert as a holly tree in Autumn. As they made their way to the mess hall, Alexis told them about Captain Hengar. "I don't think he's fit for duty," she said. "But the townsfolk need organising to start work on repairs. I think I can convince him to eat and sleep. Richard, after last night you'll have their respect. You should coordinate the people." "Me!" Richard stopped coming alert as if he'd been slapped. "But… I don't know how. I wouldn't know what to do or what to say or-" "I'll do it," Ithanor said, holding up a hand to slow Richard's panic. "It's fine. They saw the three of us together, so if they respect and trust Richard, it should carry over. We'll get you to do a little speech and then I can take over giving the orders." "Good plan. If you see Yazty, send him my way?" Ithanor nodded. "Right then lads, let's get it done."

Three

Between the three of them, they managed to wrangle Hengar into bed, get the townspeople motivated, and begin work on the town’s reconstruction. Soon the air was filled with the sounds of workmen calling, rubble being shifted and sawing as seasoned timbers were brought out of storage. Once Hengar was deeply asleep, thanks to some concoction from Yaztromo, Alexis took any spare hands from the militia buildings to help with the town's efforts. Of Victor and Bastet there was no sign. But it didn't matter; Alexis knew that now Zagor was dead, they had some loose ends of their own to tie off.

Four

Following the Quartermaster's directions brought Alexis to a long room, filled end-to-end with bunk beds. A human with black hair and lieutenant's stripes held a slate, marking off filled bunks as he directed the recruits to their new sleeping places. Alexis froze in the doorway – there were so many people, so many sounds, so many smells. Talking and laughing, the tang of metal polish and reek of bodies. "Next! You there, don't dawdle." Alexis looked up at the lieutenant, eyes wide. "Not seen anything of the like before, eh?" he asked. Alexis nodded. "You'll get used to it, lass. Sixth on the right, against the wall." He squinted down at her. "Lower bunk." "Yessir," Alexis squeaked, and made her way to the assigned bunk.

Five

A half-elf followed shortly after, arriving as Alexis was trying to figure out which chest was hers. "You're my bunkmate, huh?" he asked. "Yeah. Alexis Dalliance." She held out a hand. He shook. "Holger Brodanic. I think that one is your chest," he added, pointing at the one against the wall. "Ta." "So how come they let a kid in? You lie about your age?" Brodanic asked as he put his own equipment away. "I'm not a child, I'm a full-grown adult." "You're awful short. You got some kinda sickness?" Alexis balled her hands, then released them slowly. "No. I'm an eshen. I'm actually tall for my kind." "Huh." Brodanic perched on the edge of the lower bunk with a lopsided smile. "My mother used to tell me stories about your lot. Mostly that if I didn't stay close to the village, an eshen would turn me into a tree." Alexis gave a puckish smile and wiggled her fingers. "Who's to say I won't?" For a split second Brodanic's face dropped, then he gave a tittering laugh. Alexis winked. "Nah, that's not something we can do." Brodanic stood, chucking her on the shoulder before bouncing up to his own bunk. "We're gonna make great bunkmates, Dalliance."

Six

Alexis smirked as she finished putting away her gear. Her ears twitched, making her stop and listen. Through the general hubbub of the barracks came the sound of angry, raised voices. Ensuring she could remember which bed was hers, she left, following the sounds of conflict back outside. In front of the the awning where the human had been taking in the recruits, an elf and the half-orc officer argued. The human – she’d overheard some of the other militia say he was the Captain of this outfit, a man called Hengar – sat back in the chair watching the kerfuffle. Also joining in on the argument was another human, tall and broad, and another elf. Abruptly the Captain stood up. "Enough." He laid his hands flat on the table. "I won’t have dissent in the ranks before we’ve even gotten anywhere. Vrog, take over. You three come with me." With that he left the half-orc standing there, striding towards the entrance. Alexis tried to back away, not wanting to be in trouble already, but she wasn’t fast enough. "You there," Hengar pointed at her as he approached. "How much of that did you hear?" "Nothing, sir. You stopped as I arrived." Hengar grunted. "Where were you before?" "In the barracks, sir." An eyebrow raised. "Good ears on you, eh? You too then, come along." Alexis gulped, but dutifulled trailed along after the group, as Hengar lead the way to his office.

Seven

The end of the sewer pipe lead into a small alcove filled with long brushes and leather gauntlets and aprons. Quietly, they used these tools to remove the effluent from their legs. "I should scout ahead," Alexis said. "No offense but I’m less likely to make a lot of noise while doing so, and I suspect my senses are more keen than yours." Ithanor glanced at their companions. No one disagreed. "Very well," he said. "We shall await your return. If you run into difficulties, holler, and we will come." Alexis nodded, her mouth set in a grim line. In a moment she was gone.

[oodlyenough]

it's been like a week since i finished my last fic which means i am once again internally clawing at the walls without something to work on while unsure what exactly i want to do next anyway

[kyri45]

ShadowPeach Bio Parents AU

(2⁰ Masterpost)💛​🧡💜

This masterpost is a continuation of THIS ONE since I ran out of links.

P.8: A Dark, Long Night

Arc 3: 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31

Arc 4: 32 - 33 - 34 - 35 - 36 - 37 - 38 - 39 - 40 - 41

P.9: A New Dawn (Epilouge)

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

💜​🧡​💛​FINALE💛​🧡​💜

The first Spinoff, Second Star, has begun!

Extras! (SPOILERS!)

End Credit snippets!

Final party 1

Final party 2

Courtnapping!

Pijama party time!

Father-son bonding experience

Pride parade!

A Spicynoodle Date

Shadowpeach Wedding!

Secret Post-Credit Scene

🎁Official Merch of the Comic!!🎁

📕Comic Summary with extras by @cutvdo📕

🎵Official playlist of the AU🎵

Frequently asked questions:

What inspired you to make the comic? S04 E07. And then S05 finale. I thought that monkey MK looked like the lovechild of shadowpeach

Which app you use? Procreate. Canvas is around 1600x2100px

Why Mac has his Hanfu from left to right? Bc that's how's in the show and it's also a reference to the fact he died

Are MK and Wukong Trans? Yes, they are both FTM transmasc. If you see their chest flat during the comic is because they use glamours/shapeshift almost always

Will we ever see Spicynoodle child? We all agreed that their future kid is Kai. Yes, Kai from Ninjago.

Will you make a sequel? No, I will not make a full sequel. I will make at best a series of spin-offs of the max lenght of 15 chapters each.

Can I make fanart/edits/fanfictions of the comic? Of course! But please tag me and link the masterpost of the comic.

Can I dub the comic? Yes, but before you must DM me and tell me which part you want to dub, where you want to post it, and the username of the people dubbing it.

Can I repost your comic? No

Can I translate your comic? If it hasn't been translated already in your language (check main masterpost to see the translations) then yes. But you must warn me first of where you post it and your username. You must tag me and link the masterpost

Have more questions? Check the past Q&A👇

💛Q&A 12/09🧡Q&A 20/09💜Q&A 28/09💜

💛Q&A 08/10 🧡Q&A 16/10 💜Q&A 23/10💜

💛Q&A 28/10🧡Q&A 07/11💜Q&A 17/11💜

💛Q&A 21/11🧡Q&A 29/11💜Q&A 07/12💜

💛Q&A 23/12🧡Q&A 30/12💜Q&A 06/01💜

💛Q&A 14/01🧡Q&A 25/02💜Q&A 05/03💜

💛Q&A 25/03

[autumnalwalker]

Seven Snippets, Seven People

Thank you for the tag, @druidx.

Passing the(optional) tag to @dyrewrites, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @the-down-upside-finch, @theprissythumbelina, @junypr-camus, @korblez, and an open tag to anyone else looking for an excuse to share snippets.

Here's some snippets from the most recent POV cycle of chapters for Empty Names:

One: Chapter 17 - Embedded Media

“I appreciate the sentiment, but you do yourself a disservice in selling yourself too short.”  Glassheart pauses for a moment and then continues as serenely as ever.  “That said, it would be remiss of me not to advise caution in continuing down your current path.  You are recombining elements of disparate magic systems in novel ways and breaking rules seemingly without even being aware that they exist.  Some would call that reckless.  Some would call it offensive disregard for tradition.  Some might even brand it as sorcery, inherently dangerous or ripe enough for abuse to be taboo for all but the strongest-willed of mages to attempt.”

Lacuna attempts to examine Glassheart’s face for some hint of expression or emotion.  Is he saying that he finds the idea she just ran by him offensive?  She forces a nervous laugh.

“It can’t be that bad, right?  I’m just one amateur dabbler poking around in a lab finding overly-convoluted ways to do what’s simple for anyone else.  I’m not even a real mage.”

“It most likely is not.  But the rituals your system generates are unlike anything else I have encountered or heard of, and that which is unfamiliar ofttimes makes people nervous.”

“I… Thanks for the warning?  I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Two: Chapter 17 - Embedded Media

She presses her thumb into the designated section of the scepter, gripping with intent, and the pre-recorded accelerated incantation begins emanating from the tube, causing the ornament at the tip to begin glowing in response.  The glow brightens, slides off of the ornament and coalesces into a fist-sized glowing ball floating in the air.  After having only run for a second, the near-static noise of the incantation stops but the floating mote of light remains.  It briefly flickers as Lacuna lets her concentration slip in a moment of astonishment that it worked on the first try, but quickly stabilizes when she refocuses her attention.

She repeats the process three more times at different spots in the testing chamber, and then on the fifth she allows the recorded incantation to loop long enough to draw the shaky approximation of a cat’s face in the air.  She laughs and the lights pulse in time to her voice.  It’s an unexpected side effect that causes her laughter to redouble until the lights almost wink out before she gets a grip on her concentration again.

The next time she runs the portable ritual it is with slightly different intent.  She points the scepter at an empty spot in the air and the previous conjurations begin to converge and orbit the target point in space.  She sweeps her arm and the lights move to the new focal point some yards away from the scepter.  At Lacuna’s will they draw closer and then move further out.  

Grinning wildly, Lacuna begins waving the scepter about and clumsily twirling around the testing chamber to the off-kilter rhythm of a half-remembered theme song.  The conjured lights trail behind her like streamers for a drunken ribbon dancer.  She stops for the briefest moment of catching her all-too-easily-winded breath while holding the scepter as straight up as her wobbling arms can manage so the lights begin swirling above her, and then she swings the scepter down to point at the training dummy on the other end of the testing chamber.  

Disappointingly, the lights don’t so much streak toward their target as drift in its direction at a brisk pace, but at least that gives Lacuna ample time to close her eyes when the first glowing ball misses its target entirely and bursts into a bright flash upon hitting the wall behind it.  When the floating cat face manages to clip the edge of the dummy, its dying flash is enough to leave her seeing spots through tinted goggles and closed eyelids.  

All in all, a successful test apart from her poor aim.  She’s panting and working up a sweat, but that’s to be expected with how she got carried away.  Maybe she should give joining Eris at the gym another try.  Her hand does seem even hotter than expected though…

She looks down at the scepter and realizes the metal tube is beginning to glow ever so slightly from heat and the incantation has dropped to barely audible instead of stopping altogether like it’s supposed to.  The heat gets painful even through her safety gloves and Lacua drops the scepter on poorly-trained reflex.  She has just enough presence of mind to turn away before the fragile 3D test print of the ritual ornament on the tip of the scepter hits the ground and shatters.

Examining herself after the ensuing flash, Lacuna finds that much of the color has been bleached out of the backside of her clothes.  Touching the back of her neck - exposed from putting her hair up as a safety precaution - she winces.  She’ll need to be sure to keep her hair down and in place for the next week or two so the others don’t notice the new sunburn.

Three: Chapter 18 - Mom Energy

“Somehow though, he looks at all of this, does the tactical calculus, and concludes that Hild is the biggest threat - or maybe he was just mad at her breaking free - so he points a hand at her and his fingers extend, shooting across the room.  Road realizes what’s happening in time to parry it enough to keep it from taking off her head, but the vamp mage still manages to rip a gash in Hild from jugular to heart.

“Here’s the thing about vampires that makes them so annoying to kill: Short of beheading or burning, they can recover from basically anything so long as they have the blood.  So pro-tip, if you find yourself fighting a vampire without a stake and you don’t think you can get a killing blow on them, hit them someplace that they’ll bleed a lot.  And it has to be external bleeding.  A decent size cut’s harder for them to recover from than broken bones or ruptured organs.  Get them in the heart or jugular and they’ll bleed out nearly as fast as a human if they don’t get the chance to feed in the next minute or so.

“On the flip side, if you’re ever trying to save a vampire, the number one most important thing is to give them something to drink; the fresher and stronger the better.”

Eris holds up the child-sized bite mark on her wrist for everyone to get a good look at again.  Damn, but does it feel good to watch the realization dawn on her audience’s faces.  Especially the ones who’d laughed at it earlier.

Four: Chapter 18 - Mom Energy

In the past fifteen minutes since Eris knocked on Lacuna’s door hard enough to chip the paint and wake the neighbors, she’s watched her best friend’s face change from terrified to concerned to embarrassed to anxious to worried to confused and now to utterly horrified.

“Oh goddess, I am so sorry.  I swear I didn’t think that would happen.  I knew there might be complications but I didn’t think that even could happen.  I’m sorry.  I should have seen this coming.  I should have run more simulations.  I shouldn’t have needed to.  It’s so -”

“Sis -”

“- obvious in hindsight.  Not even hindsight, it's just obvious.  How could I be so stupid?  I’m sorry.  I promise this was an accident.  Maybe if I - No that would be worse.  I swear I -”

“Hey -”

“- can make this right.  Or maybe it’s already showing signs of abating.  This is what I get for not taking a baseline model first.  Please don’t be mad.  I’m so, so, sorry.  I just -”

“Lacuna!”

Lacuna flinches at the not-quite-a-shout and goes quiet, shrinking back into the round papasan chair seated in her apartment’s living room.

“I’m not mad at you,” Eris lies.  Maybe if she keeps still enough and keeps being slow and deliberate enough with her words and breathing it will become true.  “I believe you that whatever this is was an accident and I’m not going to hold it against you.”  That part is probably true.  “Now please slow down for a minute and tell me what you think you did to me and what we need to do to fix it.”

Five: Chapter 19 - Shire

Sullivan counts the seconds to give the two of them just enough time to suspect he might be dead before standing back up.  He makes a show of it, letting his body go totally limp with the intent of being as unnerving as possible when he bends first one knee and then the other to get his feet flat on the ground before raising himself up simply by straightening his legs in defiance of the sort of leverage the human musculoskeletal system should be able to provide from that angle.  He allows his arms to hang and his head to loll back as he rises with deliberate slowness.

Six gunshots ring out in rapid succession just as his waist starts to bend forward again.  Six bullets trailing comet tails of brilliant green light tear holes in his chest and chunks out of his shoulders.  They fail to knock him back down.

The punch to his still-regenerating face from the doll doesn’t.

Rude.

Some people simply have no taste for the theatrical it would seem.

Six: Chapter 19 - Shire

“Now now, Mr. Whelan,” Morgan says, “are you really so sure you want to be so dismissive about the efficacy of threats in front of an accomplished witch and an infamous assassin?”

Lachlan quails, shrinking back into his chair.  Sullivan stands up, steps behind him, and slides the chair in closer to the table, pinning the shriveled little alchemist between the two.

“You bleeding idiots!” Lachlan shouts.  Frustrated, not terrified.  How curious.  “I’m tr-”  More choking on words.  “That w-  You can’t -  Idiots, the both of you!”

Morgan and Sullivan look from Lachlan to one another, back to Lachlan, back to one another.

Stella looks up, staring at some spot on the white popcorn ceiling.

Morgan slaps a palm to her forehead.

“Goddesses, Green, and Void, we are idiots, aren’t we?” Morgan says.

“You said it, not me,” Sullivan replies.

“It’s so obvious.”

“A classic really.”

“Why didn’t we see it sooner?”

“I would have expected better from a witch of your caliber.”

“I would have expected better from Bridgewood’s trophy husband.”

“Touché.”

“The most annoying kind of curse.”

“Or contract.”

“The one you can’t talk about.”

“Even worse than the one you can’t remember.”

“Are you familiar with the telepathy loophole?”

“Invasive, but effective.”

“It’ll be for his own good.”

“And you’re not worried about inducing geas rejection syndromes?”

“Eh, he seems to be fine despite us figuring this much out from his hints.”

“This is why I love working with anchor world mages.”

“Hold him still for me, please?”

“Since you said please.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but why not have your doll do it?”

“Because someone broke her hands and the glue’s still drying.”

“And again, touché.”

“Want him unconscious?”

“It’ll work better if he’s awake.”

Lachlan looks up in what is finally fear at the two discussing him as if he weren’t there.

Seven: Chapter 20 - Changeling Child (coming soon-ish)

“Tell me Tam Lin,” Ashan asks, “what brings you here today?” 

The green hand twitches at the Name’s emphasis, even without any attempt at nominal magic infused into his voice.  Yes, definitely one of the fair folk, but why the guileless deception?  Why take such risk with a Name freely spoken, as sensitive as their kind are to that?

“The website,” Tam says,  “it said you can help with weird stuff like this.  You can help me, right?”

“Most likely,” Ashan answers, “but first we need to know more specifically what your problem is.”

“If I may,” Lacuna speaks up from where she has perched on an ottoman at the other end of the couch from Tam.  As she slips her phone back into her skirt pocket and intently looks Tam up and down all her earlier disorientation has vanished completely.  Ashan knows that eager, almost hungry look.  It is a look he has seen on experimentally-minded wizards presented with a unique specimen and alchemists greedily eying rare reagents.  And on children seeing their favorite animal in the flesh for the first time.

With only the slightest misgiving, Ashan nods in assent.

Lacuna’s eyes light up and she leans in even closer.  “Right.  So.  Tam.  Let me know if I miss the mark anywhere.  As a kid you saw all sorts of fairies and similar magic.  When you got older you wrote them off as childhood make believe, but ever since you had strange and vivid dreams about them.  Maybe you even were one in your dreams.  When you hit puberty, those dreams got more frequent.  More intense.  Easier to remember.  Almost a second life whenever you were at your lowest points.  Still just dreams at the end of the night though.  Nothing you couldn’t put out of mind and focus on the ‘real world.’  And then one day.  A recent day.  I would guess.  One or both of your parents died.  Ever since, you’ve started having those dreams every night.  And then every time you closed your eyes.  And then when you looked in the mirror, wide awake, you looked like you did in your dreams.  That’s when something started following you.  Not knowing where else to turn, you turned to the Internet, and found us.  No one answered your calls or the message you left.  That’s my bad.  Real sorry about that.  So you hopped in the car and drove all night to our address.”

Tam stares at her, eyes wide and jaw agape.  “My moms are still alive, but everything else is - how did you know?”

Ashan tilts his head, surprised and curious to know himself.

Lacuna slips back into her usual discomfort, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck.  “Sorry.  That was weird of me, wasn’t it?  Got carried away.  Touches on a… special interest of mine.  So.  Basically.  You’re a changeling.  A fairy swapped with a human baby to be raised in its place to take its Name.”

“You’re joking,” Tam denies.

“You were quite literally shapeshifting in front of me,” Ashan points out.

“Not intentionally,” Tam says.

“It wouldn’t be,” Lacuna says.  “Historically speaking, most children accused of being changelings were just some flavor of neurodivergent.  The real ones tend to blend in as normally as the baby they swapped with would have, fooling even themselves.  Not that there isn’t overlap between the two from time to time.  A Name isn’t just the name it’s tied to, it’s a whole identity, physical and mental.  Most changelings have no idea they’re not human until something triggers a change, at which point whatever fae liege made the bargain will come to retrieve them.  Or send a servant to do so.  Kinder ones will be upfront about it and explain things.  Maybe even make an offer to continue living as you are.” 

“And crueler ones will send a hunting beast to drag you back kicking and screaming,” Ashan posits.

Tam’s nervous nod is all the confirmation Ashan needs as to what tripped the wards around the office.

[tabswrites]

7 Snippets, 7 People

Tagged by @writernopal here! Thanks, Nopal 💜

Tagging (no pressure, as always!): @theroseempress @writinglittlebeasts @hd-literature @j-1173 @clairelsonao3 @gummybugg

Silver Sentinels tag list (please ask to be added/removed!): @outpost51

Silver Sentinels, Ch. 3

Adrin gave the girl an encouraging smile as she set down a pail of water and a folded piece of linen beside him. “Just tell me what you can remember.” Before she could set the bottle down, Davis snatched the spirits out of her hand, causing her to jump back. Adrin felt a surge of annoyance rise up inside of him as he watched the man take a long sip with his free hand.

“All I know is, Henrietta was talking to her one moment and the next that crazy bitch was attacking me!” he exclaimed, wiping drops of liquid out of his beard.

Henrietta stiffened at his words. “It was a misunderstanding.” she said, so softly Adrin had to lean towards her to hear.

“How so?” he asked.

“She thought he was trying to hurt me-”

Davis slammed his good hand onto the table. “Hush, girl!”

“Hang on,” Adrin squeezed the injured hand as a small warning. “Do you mean to say the exile was protecting you?”

Henrietta opened and closed her mouth, eyes darting between her parents. The tension in the room was stifling. Adrin found himself unable to speak as he considered how to proceed. They hadn’t covered how to mediate uncomfortable family meetings in guard training.

S.S, Ch. 3

An older guard close to his father’s age saluted the captain from his post at the end of the hall and stepped aside to let them through.

The interrogation room was a cold, uninviting place made of four solid granite walls. The only light came from the two torches hung on either side of the door–Adrin supposed there was no need for comfort in a room so few ever saw.

He guided Henrietta towards the table and pulled out a chair. She sat down slowly, her dark brown eyes reminding him of a frightened doe as they wandered around the room. He joined Hollowar on the other side of the table.

“Why was Mara Wilkes at your home, Miss Rameau?” The captain placed her arms on either side of the chair and straightened her posture, staring down at the girl with a thinly veiled look of displeasure.

Henrietta swallowed, shifting in her seat. “I’m not sure, ma’am.” she squeaked. Her hand drifted up to her hair and tugged at a random curl. “She arrived shortly after sunrise, asking me to deliver something for her.”

S.S, Ch. 3

“Ramsby, escort Miss Rameau to a cell.”

Adrin stopped his pacing and spun to face her, his cape whipping around with him. “Captain, is that necessary?” His heart ached at the sight of Henrietta’s small frame slumped over the table. There was something so honest about her, a natural sense of freedom in the way she expressed her emotions. It reminded him of Sophie, he realized. “Look at her. She’s hardly a threat.”

“That is not your decision to make.” Hollowar growled in response. “Let’s go.”

Adrin was left with no choice but to obey, glancing down at the bracelet on his wrist. Nothing about the situation felt right, but he figured couldn’t do a thing for Henrietta if he was in a cell, and he was already in shackles, so to speak. He followed the captain back to the main hallway and through a heavy set of wooden doors.

S.S, Ch. 4 (whaaat? Chapter 4 already? Go me!)

The still of the silence revived her. Mara opened her eyes to a clear blue sky and exhaled, knowing she had once again evaded death. As she sat up and looked around, she wondered if it might be too early to celebrate.

Ascension, Ch. 2

Callie opened her eyes to a sky full of stars, a peculiar observation due to the fact that she was indoors.

It had been just over a week since her brother had left, the same amount of time he had spent working on her parting gift. The mural covered the entire space over her bed. It had a background of the deepest blue and tiny stars in glistening gold.

Kiran had traded a quarter of his cattle for the paints, insisting it was worth it. She was still very cross with him for leaving in the first place—they hadn’t been apart for more than a day since he had arrived in Atharis ten years prior.

“Oh, come on Callie,” he implored her with a taunting grin. “We’ve shared the same air for most of our lives. Could you settle for sharing the stars?”

Ascension, Ch. 2

“Ah, Your Highness!” Duke Overly exclaimed, clapping his hands together as she appeared. “So kind of you to finally join us.” He took an agonizingly slow sip of ale.

Callie curtsied to her father before turning her focus to the duke. “It takes time to be presentable in accordance with the court’s impeccable standards.” she replied with a beaming smile. “Perhaps if the court would reconsider my request to wear less formal clothing from time to time, my morning routine could be considerably shorter.”

Ascension, Ch. 2

News from the border was never good. It usually meant Aleksander had grown bored once again, and was starting an even more infuriating game with them. Kiran had mentioned just before he departed that Atharis was reaching its limit, and their father was uncertain about how to proceed. One thing was clear—they could not survive another escalation.

[bettystonewell]

TO YOU I BELONG SERIES MASTERLIST

Main Masterlist || On AO3 || On Wattpad

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Summary: Dean isn’t looking for a mate. Not only does he think he doesn’t deserve one, but the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain’t real. He still has free will, and saving you from monsters is just another part of the job.

The demons in your life, though? They’re closer than he realises, more personal, and his inner alpha won’t let him leave you behind with them. But can Dean embrace everything that comes with claiming someone? 18+ only MDNI

Tags: omegaverse, soulmate AU, pregnancy, strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort, SMUT, breeding, claiming, knotting, nesting, angst, fluff, endgame is Dad!Dean (and the parenting skills we all know he has), Protective!Dean, (dual POV), somewhat of a fix-it

WARNING: This story implies/references some potentially triggering topics including domestic abuse, sexual assault, a past miscarriage (chemical pregnancy), and follows the journey of how the characters deal with it. Please consider these carefully before reading. I can’t stress this enough!

A/N: This all started out as a one shot idea of Dean playing with kids and nerf guns. That one shot hasn’t been written yet because my brain wanted to know where the kids came from, but Dean will get his hands on a nerf gun in this fic.

uploading weekly on Fridays 🇦🇺🕕

Chapter 1 - Yearning

Chapter 2 - Harbouring

Chapter 3 - Confronting

Chapter 4 - Familiarising

Chapter 5 - Languishing

Chapter 6 - Domesticating

Chapter 7 - Honeydaying

Chapter 8 - Disconcerting

Chapter 9 - Ruminating

Chapter 10 - Saddling

Chapter 11 - Containment

Chapter 12 - Sentiment

Chapter 13 - Derisionment

Chapter 14 - Announcement 23/05

Chapter 15 - Dissappointment

Chapter 16 -

Chapter 17 -

Chapter 18 -

Chapter 19 -

Chapter 20 -

TIMESTAMPS TBA

EXTRAS/RELATED

Writing Game Snippet

100 Followers Celebration Sneak Peak

WIP WEDNESDAY (20/02) Chapter 16

Please Remember folks, abuse isn’t always physical. It’s also not easy to admit when you’re going through it, or sometimes even realise. Look after yourselves, and keep an eye out for signs from those you love. ❤️

If you'd like to be tagged in this series or any of my other works, please let me know, or you can add yourself HERE

I’ll be tagging all the lovely people signed up for my DEAN TAGLIST too, of course 🥰

[bweirdart]

EVENT OVER! THANKS EVERYONE WHO JOINED IN U ALL DID AN AMAZING JOB <3 SEE YOU AGAIN NEXT YEAR IN MARCH FOR #mARTch OR NEXT OCTOBER (2024) FOR A NEW SET OF PROMPTS!!!!!

OC-TOBER 2023 PROMPTS!!

general tag: #oc-tober / my prompts: #bweirdOCtober

F.A.Q:

Do I have to draw EVERY DAY?

NO! I highly encourage skipping as many days as you need to avoid burnout! There are 10 main days in the event (marked with a ⭐ star) that you can focus on if you don't feel up to doing every day, or you can choose your own adventure and just do the prompts you personally like!

Do I have to DRAW?

NO! You can also write fanfiction snippets, repost older art that fits the theme, tweet headcanons/backstory, roleplay in-character as your oc ... genuinely anything that fits the theme is OK!!

Can I start early?

YES! I understand some people work at a slower pace and might need a head start! So long as you wait until October to post it, you can start working as early as you need!

I missed the start of the event .. do I have to catch up?

NO! Please don't stress about days you missed, you're allowed to just skip to the current prompt!

RULES:

1. MAKE FRIENDS! The community is the best part of this event .. please try to follow new people, ask questions about ocs you like, compliment people's styles, ask friends to create with you, etc!

2. TAKE IT EASY! Skip a day if you're tired, busy or just not interested in the prompt. You don't have to catch up on it later. This is supposed to be fun, not work!

3. BE KIND! Please think about the people around you - don't give people unwarranted harsh criticism, content warn for themes/imagery in your work that could trigger someone, don't create anything hateful, etc

MORE:

text version / tips and ideas on bweird.art or below ↓

star = main prompts | no star = optional

INTRO WEEK

1: FAVE OC ⭐

-Which of your characters is your favourite right now?

2: NEW OC

-Who is your newest OC?

-Design a new OC right now

3: OLD OC ⭐

-Do you remember the first OC you ever made?

-Is there an OC you haven't drawn in a long time?

4: RE-DESIGN

-An OC who has changed a lot over the years

-Take an old OC and update their design right now

 

BACKSTORY WEEK

5: RELATIONSHIPS ⭐

-Who is important to your OC?

-Do they have a partner?

-Do they have a best friend?

-Are they close to their family?

6: SYMBOL

-What imagery do you associate with your oc?

-Are there any colours, flowers, animals or concepts that symbolize them?

7: PERSONALITY ⭐

-How does your OC behave?

-What are their positive traits?

-What are their negative traits?

-Are they extroverted or introverted?

8: PAST

-What was your OC like as a child?

-Where did they grow up?

-Are there any significant moments from their past that shaped who they are?

9: FUTURE ⭐

-Does your OC have a goal they're working towards?

-What will your OC look like when they get older

-Do you have a planned ending for their story?

PALETTE WEEK

10: pumpkin patch palette

#251604 #1E3807 #5B5E1A #A2A657 #EBA00F #F3ECCC

11: hot cocoa palette

#520B13 #BB382E #E27E6D #88392C #AF5D40 #E1AFA4

12: midnight zone palette

#000007 #000049 #183885 #004D4F #0E8788 #FFF1C0

13: peachy palette

#DE6450 #DB9171 #FFC1AE #FEE1AD #FFF2E0 #D9D8D8

14: haunted house palette

#552506 #6E25AA #ED690B #F925A0 #8F8BA7 #A6C1AA

FUN + GAMES WEEK

15: MEME ⭐

-Post memes that remind you of your OC

-Draw your OC as a meme

-Fill out a character meme (classic deviantart style)

16: FOOD

-What is your OC's favourite food?

-What is their least favourite?

-Can they cook?

17: EYES-CLOSED ⭐

-Draw your OC with your eyes closed! No cheating!

-Write a scene without looking at the keyboard! Keep the typos in!

18: SWAP

-Swap the style or aesthetic of two of your OCs

-Species or gender swap AU

-Invert an OC's colour scheme

19: INSPIRATION ⭐

-Is your OC inspired by any pre-existing characters?

-Are there any particular songs/lyrics that inspired something about one of your OCs

-Do you have a dedicated pinterest moodboard for your character?

20: INVENTORY

-What does your OC carry around with them on a daily basis?

-Are there any objects that have sentimental value for them?

-Loot drop for your DnD OC

 

FRIENDS WEEK

21-25:

There's no specific daily prompts for this week, but here are some ideas you can try ...

-Art trades with friends who are doing the event with you

-Your OC interacting with a friend's OC

-Gift art for someone whose OCs you like

-Work together and collaborate on something with a friend

-Roleplay an OC scene together with someone

 

HALLOWEEN WEEK

26: FEAR ⭐

-What is your OC scared of?

-Draw one of your OCs trying to scare the others

27: MONSTER

-Do you have any monster OCs? (eg: vampires, werewolves, creatures, ghosts...)

-Draw a human OC as a monster

-Design a new monster

28: TRICK

-Play a trick on an OC

-Do you have an OC who would play tricks on people?

29: TREAT

-What is your OC's favourite halloween candy?

-Give an OC a special treat to make up for yesterday's trick

30: MAGIC

-Do any of your characters have magical powers?

-Give an OC a magical or cursed artifact

-Create a magic-using OC like a witch or wizard

27: COSTUME ⭐

-What is your OC dressing as for halloween?

[felassan]

Sylvia Feketekuty: "To celebrate DA day, I've made a bluesky account that I'll keep active for a few days to talk about my work on Inqusition or Veilguard! After a few days I'll lock the account, because I'm not a social media person. Happy to talk until then though. I want to say straight off: the reception to Emmrich, Manfred, the Mourn Watch, and the Grand Necropolis has been heartwarming for all of us who worked on those people and places. Thank you all very much!" [source, two]

Rest of post under cut due to length and spoilers. [Post Two, Post Three]

Sylvia Feketekuty: "In the meantime, I do want to talk about a couple of things I saw floating around regarding Emmrich: 1. Emmrich being 52 or 50. I think people got 50 from data mining a character file, but we can't do a ranges in those files. As in, I couldn't input 50-60, it had to be a whole number. I put down 50 as an early ballpark, then went more accurate in later audition scripts. 2. Fifty-two is a old number I threw into an early document before his art or character was totally final. (And which caused another developer a headache because they thought it was accurate, I never updated it. Sorry about that.) 3. "Wait, how old is Emmrich then?" Once I saw his final character art, I felt more mid to late 50s. MAYBE early 60s. But unless we specifically state a character's age in the game, it's all malleable. I honestly would just adjust it to your impressions unless stated otherwise. 4. I've also seen comments on how weird it is for Emmrich to act like there's an age-gap in the romance if your Rook is around his age. And you're right. 5. The reason is because Rook WAS younger when those scenes were written and worked on. I felt it'd be odd if I never addressed the May-December aspect, especially as it hooks into some of Emmrich's worries. 6. By the time that shifted, it was really too late to change without catastrophic repercussions to the excellent cinematics and music and other things that depend on line delivery and timing. 7. To be clear: you can feel how you want about the age gap coming up at all! But that's how the discrepancy came about. 8. "Is there a way to reconcile Emmrich acting like my Rook is way younger than him if they're not?" Great question! I have several suggestions: -Accept it's an error. (True, but unexciting) -Emmrich considers a gap of 3-5 years scandalous. (Funny, albeit a bit cartoonish.) -The Mourn Watch has perfected swapping out organs, and Emmrich is nervously hiding that he's way older than he looks out of vanity. (Untrue, but funny.)" [source thread]

User in reply to point 6. above: "I'm personally glad it was too late to change because their argument about it is genuinely my favorite scene in the entire game! 😭💕 It's such an important moment to me" / Sylvia: "Thanks! That one was one where I was all sweatily trying to balance things out, with tone, with pacing, etc. Really glad it came together for you. (Cine and the actors did heroic things there to get it feeling just so!)" [source]

More snippets:

Emmrich's favorite ice cream flavor? Rum raisin [source]

Lots of people on the dev team shared the vision of having a bunch of gothic weirdness in that pocket of Thedas [source] (Necropolis/Nevarra)

Sylvia "especially liked writing the Mourn Watch origin, it was fun to write a fellow nerd for Emmrich to chat with" [source]

Sylvia poured some personal worries and fears into writing Emmrich [source]

On Vorgoth and their nature: "I'm a little leery of saying anything, partly because I'm cowardly avoiding publicly defining anything more until/if I ever need to. And partly because I did want them to be a fresh unknown. Sorry!" [source] "I'm glad you like Vorgoth, but I'm afraid I don't have much for you that isn't in the game. I deliberately wrote them so as to leave room, if we ever revisited them, or for Vorgoth to remain mysterious, if we did not. I'm sorry if that's not a very satisfying answer!" [source] "I will say, it was fun to throw in a few lines about Vorgoth's art collection. Their passion for it is sincere and deep. (I wanted all the Watchers to have a little non-death related hobby or interest, because they can be so singularly focused.)" [source]

Dwarven Mourn Watcher is a rare origin combo for Rook so Sylvia wanted to call it out [source]

On the outcomes of Emmrich's quest: "I tried really hard to make the options equally viable, and more up to the player's interpretation or preferences of what it would mean for Emmrich in their view. It's been interesting seeing reactions to it, which hinge sometimes on various single lines pushing people one way or another!" [source]

"The Grand Necropolis is always eager and ready for a new member of the Mourn Watch to grace its ranks." [source]

User: "I loved Emmrich's view on death and what his personal quest ultimately went on to say about the nature of death itself, and how the beauty of mortality lies in its impermanence and unpredictability." / Sylvia: "I really wanted to dig into those themes, and everyone in cine and art and level design and editing and the whole team honed in exactly on the vibe. The floral stuff especially, I was so thrilled when I played through the Memorial Gardens' with the art and lighting in." [source]

User: "I experience thanatophobia and that first conversation w/ Emmrich was so affirming and helped me describe my own anxiety to others" / Sylvia: "Thanks, the thanatophobia was, as you may've guessed, a personal experience for me too. I'm glad it was something that helped a little." [source] "I suspect that phobia is way more common than people think, and part of the reason Emmrich talks about it was to express that sentiment out loud. I find it helps sometimes just to acknowledge it." [source]

What languages does Emmrich speak other than Trade? "I think he'd be familiar with Tevene, since there's surely many, many old texts about magic written in that language. Kind of like a doctor that knows latin through their work. I also named that MW alphabet "tomb-script", though I'm not sure if it has a spoken component or not since it never came up in-game. If it does, he'd be able to speak that for sure." [source, two]

User: "Playing as a Mourn Watch Rook has been an absolute delight!!!" / Sylvia: "Thank you so much, I really liked writing those branches of the dialogue. Since Emmrich's so focused on necromancy, it was fun having a Rook who could be both casual and knowledgeable about it." [source]

User: "In your opinion, what outcome do you prefer for a romanced Emmrich (lich/non lich)?" / Sylvia: "Interesting question! To be honest, I'm afraid to answer it properly in case anyone takes my answer to be a canonical one. I really wanted either path to feel equally interesting/correct for whatever you decide fits your Rook's relationship with Emmrich. (We're also in the strange waters of meta-reasoning. I GAVE Emmrich his fear of death-Sorry Emmrich!-which makes me feel a little culpable for that, even though he's entirely fictional. And that might prey on my mind when trying to decide. A very odd experience!)" [source, two]

What music genres would Emmrich be into? "Classical music is very much playing to type for Emmrich, but I feel it's also correct. He'd enjoy a nice concerto or an organ recital. Or, if he's feeling daring, a bold new Orlesian opera! But I don't think his tastes are too outré in that area. That said, I saw someone post something like "Leave Emmrich alone, let him attend the Depeche Mode concert" while listening to Depeche Mode's "Violator", for the first time, which made me laugh. (Great album. If he could get over the shock of synths, Emmrich might enjoy "Waiting for the Night".)" [source, two]

When writing Emmrich the devs wanted to try and hit the gothic romance vibe [source]

Does Emmrich mix his own fragrance/cologne? Does he ever vary it by the season? "I think Emmrich goes to some of the many perfumers that have set up shop in Nevarra City around the Necropolis, just because he trusts their judgement and expertise. I hadn't considered him varying it by season, but that's very fun! I certainly think he has more than one bottle of scent." [source]

User: "How does Lich Emmrich have sex?" / Sylvia: "I don't mind the question! But my answer's a bit boring: I generally stay at arm's length on the more explicit romance stuff, just because if it's not stated or shown in-game, I don't want to bring in a canonical answer that might affect what people imagined. My general preference for romantic scenes that get physical is to leave blank space somewhere, so players can imagine what happens next. It's not the ONLY way to do it, I think there's legitimate artistic reasons to go more explicit. But that's how I approached Emmrich (and before him Josephine.)" [source, two]

User: "The scene with the fade glow where he touches your hand haunts me in the best way" / Sylvia: "Aw thank you. Our animators and audio people made that scene way better than I could've hoped! They took such care with everything there. I want to say that little eye-peep from Rook was added in by one of them, which was the perfect touch." [source]

User on Emmrich: "i’m curious whether you think he’d prefer dogs or cats (or both, or neither)" / Sylvia: "I think he'd consider cats and dogs a little too noisy and messy for his tastes. Not like a nice, quiet plant or skeleton! (Weirdly, I actually had a scrap of banter going over this exact subject at one point. It got tightened down to the exchange with Harding about the pig he used to hug when he was a kid.)" [source, two]

Sylvia was trying to tease Nevarra with the Tevinter Nights story Down Among the Dead Men [source]. "It was really fun to tease the Necropolis, so to speak, in TN, and I'm grateful we got to actually let players through its gates at last." [source]

User: "if Rook chooses to save Manfred and keep Emmrich mortal, what would Emmrich wish to become of his body once he did pass on?" / Sylvia: "Good question. I think he'd want to remain active and useful in death. A guide for other Mourn Watchers, or posted as a mystic guide somewhere dangerous, or perhaps an oracle in the library." [source]

User: "when and how was it decided that Emmrich would be romanceable? I remember reading that he would not be a romance option." / Sylvia: "I'm not sure where that came from, because I pitched him and then shortly after that we decided the entire cast was romanceable. That was fairly early on in the development of Veilguard, as I recall it. (Could've been a crossed wire?)" [source]

Trick Weekes: "Sylvia wrote the fantastic Emmrich "the Vol-carnage" Volkarin and everything that happens in Nevarra while dealing with a lead writer whose attitudes about corpses and undead are... not dissimilar from Taash's." [source] / Sylvia: "I still remember when you gave the very accurate feedback "I think we need to give players whose Rooks aren't into corpses some roleplaying choices to express this" and I was all "Ohhh yeaaaaaah." (Thank u Trick, you were right)" [source] / Trick: "Specifically, being able to express this without locking themselves out of the content! (For non-Sylvia folks) Given my issues with corpses, Emmrich as a whole was SUPER Not For Me, so I gave one caveat and then said, "For the rest of my critique, I will be impersonating his target audience." [source]

Sylvia on the secret origins of Manfred: "After I pitched Emmrich, I started jotting down notes and thoughts on his plots, his quirks, all that kind of stuff. It was very early on Veilguard, anything was still possible. We were chatting in the writer's room about it one day, and I think we'd just seen some early concept art for Emmrich. And our lead writer Trick Weekes joked that Emmrich looked like a man who'd have a skeleton named Manfred. And I laughed and went "Yeah he does!" And then I thought about it. It's wild in retrospect, but that one comment spurred a train of thought that led to the core of Emmrich's arc. He may've ended up a very different character without it! tl;dr: I stole it from Trick." [source, two, three, four]

"I got to play with a pretty free palette when defining the way Emmrich and the necromancers view death and spirits. But I tried to keep it within the confines of existing lore. That's one reason why that scene where Emmrich talks about Manfred to Harding goes into "the eternal question" of whether a soul actually returns with the dead or not. Nevarra has distinct beliefs, but I thought it'd be interesting if its people argue over their interpretations of those beliefs." [source, two]

"the other writers also suggested a bit later on that the big choice dig more into Emmrich's philosophies. Initially, it was more personally focused on his fears, which made it 'relatable' but pettier. Without that correction, I think it would've been weaker, I totally needed the team push." [source]

"I have a few guides to graveyard symbology, and it's so packed with references and meaning." [source]

User: "Did any of your own fears & experiences, make it into the writing of Emmrich? If yes, is it information you’re comfortable sharing with us? If it’s too personal to give any details, that’s fine as well. Also, across the other games, who do you think Emmrich will get along with best?" / Sylvia: "some of his fears are absolutely personal. The reflexive-compulsive panic over death is something I'm very familiar with, and I wanted to explore that through him. Because I suspected it was not uncommon, and worth examining. The question of who he'd get along with from the other games is surprisingly tough! Because without asking the other writers about their characters, I wouldn't know for sure. So I can only really speak to Josephine with surety. That said: -I think Josephine would be polite, and grow to like him, but would never entirely be over the ostentatious necromancy. -I think Emmrich meeting Sera would be the funniest match." [source, two, three]

"Peter Cushing was also one of my go-tos as an example of what I wanted Emmrich to be." [source]

"(Huge shout out to all the animators and level designers making Manfred run, quite literally. Like 95% of his personality lives in his movement, I think they nailed it.)" [source]

On Emmrich: "I tried to put a lot of passion and sincerity in his love for the dead, and I admit the Necropolis was THE big place I wanted to see in Thedas myself ever since reading about it in a codex." [source]

User: "Thank you for letting him have that cemetery dream date!" / Sylvia: "Having the date in the cemetery was one of the first things I wanted when thinking about the romance." [source]

"Josephine was the first time I was entrusted with a new character and a new romance at once, and that'll always be special to me." [source]

User: "How much input did you have in Emmrich's appearance in the podcast?" / Sylvia: "In the podcast, none myself. I believe it was handled by a third party but reviewed by a few people at BW, I don't know too much past that. (We did provide a descriptor and character rules. Stuff like "Emmrich never swears" and "always says amongst" and broader, more thematically useful things.)" [source]

User on Emmrich: "Are you planning any other external-media stories for him?" / Sylvia: "Thanks very much, The Flame Eternal has a special place in my heart for being the first time Emmrich got to be center stage in a story. (And very flattering to hear about the cross stitch. That's so cool!) I can't speak to any external-media plans, I'm afraid. That's not an implied hint about anything existing or not, it's just literally outside what I'm allowed to chat about. It'd be fun to do something like that again though!" [source, two]

"I must give full credit to Nick Borraine, Emmrich's voice actor. He got the compassion and tenderness the character needed right away." [source]

"And glad him being closer to your age resonated, I really wanted someone older out on an adventure. No reason that has to stop at any age IMO." [source]

User: "do the mourn watcher/nevarra in general raise their pets after they die to keep them around? like a dog skeleton with a whisp in it?" / Sylvia: "To be honest I hadn't thought out this one, but it's a very good question. I'm not sure how common that would be, or even if it's permitted to have pets running around the family crypt. (I definitely thing people would WANT to do it.) You know, I think I'm going to have to leave this one in the vague quantum foam of the future. I think I'd want to not only double check existing lore, but answer that in-game (or in a book or etc.) if we ever need to. (Hope that's not too much of a cop out. Sometimes I like to leave questions I'm not sure about alone, because until it's in an official game or story, it doesn't quite count.)" [source, two, three]

User: "as someone who shares emmrich's anxiety about mortality, getting to spend time with him, and in the grand necropolis and with the mourn watch, was genuinely soothing" / Sylvia: "Thank you, I'm glad he was a comfort. It's a familiar fear for me too, and I'd hoped he would connect that way with people very much." [source]

On the giant ribcage 'ceiling' in the Necropolis: "sadly, even I don't know all the mysteries of the Necropolis. (Which is to say it's a very cool bit of art but has no stated origin yet. Could be a large dragon, a giant...or something weirder!)" [source]

On TN story Luck in the Gardens: "It was nice change up, writing in first person and with someone so rascally. I've got an enduring affection for the Lords after writing Hollix, the scamp." [source]

User: "I just love his genuine enthusiasm for everything he does. If the other party members had fan clubs Emmrich would be the president of each and I love that for him" / Sylvia: "Thank you! I really wanted him to embody a kind of expansiveness and generosity of spirit, to stand in contrast to the eeriness of his abilities." [source]

User: "What was your inspiration for Josie?" / Sylvia: "My girl! When I came on to Inquisition, there'd already been work done on setting up the spine of the main plot, and figuring out the overall cast. But one of the advisors was a little murkier. It just said "Diplomat" on the white board. We knew we wanted someone in that position, but not who. So in a game where you were out exploring, killing demons, etc., but also had a big organization to run? I immediately wanted to make a Diplomat firmly there for you. Somebody you could hand the keys to the entire Inquisition to while you were out, and know it'd be in good hands. I also thought it'd be fun to have someone from Antiva, since that area wasn't covered yet by anyone in the cast. And I needed her to be polished, smooth, but heartfelt, because of that aforementioned trust. And that was the core of Josephine! Her voice actor, Allegra, brought her to life with such lovely charm, and hearing those early sessions also helped me further hone her tone." [source, two, three, four]

"Our music supervisor Ron Dazo hit it out of the park with Emmrich's music IMO. And so glad you liked Hezenkoss! Just very fun to write as a character." [source]

User: "Did any specific watcher raise MW Rook?" / Sylvia: "Good question! I kind of left that one alone because I wasn't sure if I wanted to let Rook define that themselves, or leave it open, and also I'd have wanted a full conversation on it. In the end that was a little out of scope so I left it unsaid. Which is to say that it COULD be Vorgoth who helped raise your Rook. And that stands until/unless we give a definitive answer (or let you choose from a range of answers) one day." [source, two]

"It was such a pleasure for all of us to finally get to explore the Necropolis, I am very glad we got to throw open the gates." [source]

User: "I was wondering if there were any Mourn Watch details you wished you had more time to explore? I was so struck by some of the ethical implications in your stories" / Sylvia: "Geeze, now that's a question. I mention it with Emmrich, but there's some resentment over the power the Watchers hold as THE mortalitasi of the Grand Necropolis, between them and the other orders. There's something to that situation I liked. There's also questions of how they select people for the order. What their standards are, how closely they work with benign spirits. And how they cultivate those relationships. How deep does that go? I also mentioned in a codex "the lives and bodies of those who tamper with the undead of the Necropolis are forfeit unto the Mourn Watch." which is pretty chilling. What's that punishment like, exactly? And in general, writing about anything weird or unexplained in the Necropolis brought me much enjoyment, and it would be fun to dig around how the Mourn Watch deals with (or what they want out of) all these mysteries and entities." [source, two, three, four]

"Geeking out with Emmrich about spooky stuff was a delight to write." [source]

"I liked writing someone older this time, it was something different for me and rewarding in some unexpectedly different ways. (And thanks especially for the nice words on DAtDM - I was very excited to introduce people to the Mourn Watch there!)" [source]

"Ah, tomb-script. I named it but it was our concept artists who went developed it with the hexagon shape-language of the Mourn Watch, which I loved. Conceptually: I think it's used purely an occult or sacred language. Something for the graves, or books on magic, but not everyday things." [source]

"Some trans people kindly offered their help with some feedback on some of the romance lines and others, which absolutely made them much better." [source]

"Trick Weekes actually wrote a ton of the banter where Emmrich inquires into qunari artifacts and customs, and Taash talks about what it was like to grow up under a scholar. I really dig the dynamic they unearthed between the two there." [source]

User: "Do you remember what was written in the script to describe ✨this✨ moment? [link]" // Sylvia: "Lol. I miiiiiight? Let me look at my notes. Ah hah, I do! My note says that Emmrich "takes a second, surprised." And then he's touched afterwards." [source, two]

Sylvia: ""i hope it's not too late, but were there any designs in mind for what Nevarra City looks like?" Not too late! We've got a few sketches in the World of Thedas books, but that's it. If the team ever went back to Nevarra City proper, I'd imagine the art team would want to do a deeper dive." [source]

Sylvia: "(Glad you liked Myrna in particular. My first Mourn Watcher everyone got to know!)" [source]

Sylvia: "I'm glad to hear getting to know Emmrich has been of some comfort." [source]