#elven's writing sneak peeks

[chaoticspacefam]

First Lines Meme

I was tagged by @sullustangin​ ! Sorry this one took me a while to get too aaaa, but thank you for tagging me <3

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven't written ten fics, share as many first-sentences as you have.

Tagging: (no pressure, as always & only if you feel like doing it, if not feel free to ignore! :3) @actualanxiousswampwitch​ , @darth-bagel​ , @outcastcommander​ , @elaphaemourra, @tearlessrain, @mercurypilgrim and anyone else who feels like doing this one! Yes, I promise I mean you! :D

I’m gonna start by posting the first lines of fics I’ve recently posted/written, then I’m gonna throw some extra ones in there, for pieces that are done but I just haven’t gotten to put on AO3 yet, or the next chapter of an in-progress fic that isn’t done yet (lookin’ at you, Creeping Shadows ¬¬ XD) 10. Ni’kasi had feared the worst when Elana Thul had holo’d her to give her the news of the ambush at House Organa and that Urtel hadn’t reported back.  (and all their words for glory...well they always sounded EMPTY. A oneshot from Kas’s portion of the story, By The Stars. Centered around the Urtel Moren plot point from Alderaan and the effect his death had on Kas & her future motivations re: the Empire)

9. They're on Alderaan now, getting ready to take off and leave the planet behind them.  (Duende. Another By The Stars oneshot, from a prompt game here on tumblr! aka the “Andronikos is very horny over Kas but too damn stubborn to ASK and she’s having way too much fun baiting him about it” fic lmao)

8. D'leah had been rather surprised to catch the eye of her Wai Tarar across the sea of other Sith Lords and Darths, decked out to their nines in glitz and glamour in the manner she would have well expected of the High Sith families that associated with her father.  (Strikhedonia. Technically a twoshot with Kiss With A Fist (which is the next one down). Set pre-game storyline, during the Ahaszaai dynasty. D’leah finally admits she’s DTF, much to the relief of every single one of their family and friends who were getting sick and tired of their UST. XD These two fics about Sith mom and Sith dad haven’t got as much attention as the others, but I honestly had a blast writing them both :D hahaha)

7. Of all the Wai Tarar that could have possibly been assigned to accompany her on this mission, it had to be this one. (Kiss With A Fist. Comes chronologically before Strikhedonia (above), and set in the same timeline, a few weeks after the events. (Wai Tarar is just High Sith for “Royal Guard”, essentially what will become the Imperial Guard in the red armour etc etc.) The “You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid” D’leahssai fic, essentially.. 🤣 )

6. Aria was jerked from her fitful memories by the groaning of the shuttle’s hyperdrive.  (Creeping Shadows. ~The~ first line of Creeping Shadows aka the prologue. Where it all kicked off! 🙌 Pretty self-explanatory, this sets up Aria’s introduction as well as building some ominous undertones for the Big Reveal (tm) that’s about to happen in Ch 8 & 9, I promise I have not abandoned this I am going to work on it again one day...)

---- (all the ones below this bit are WIPs so don’t have links yet as they’re not posted anywhere (yet), but I wanted to do 10 so I’m cheating so I can do 10 😛)

5. Everyone’s staring. ... ...the Empress' muscles are wound tight as coils, ready to strike at a moment's notice. (How To Pacify A Sith. an Alliance-era oneshot, set after Crisis on Umbara flashpoint. This is one that’s been finished for a while but I’ve not had the time to do the formatting in order to post it on AO3. Koth talks Rai down from flipping her shit on Theron over the betrayal; Theron really owes Koth for this one and let’s just leave it at that lol)

4. The Fleet was a refreshing change of pace, no Jedi Masters breathing down her neck or silently judging her for wanting to put away a quick drink before they moved onwards to board the transport to Coruscant.  (Also Creeping Shadows, but the first line of Chapter 8, that I’m still working on because every time I get in the headspace to work on it something weird IRL happens and then I don’t get to work on it for ages bc the moment is gone. One goddamn day I will continue this story lmfao)

3. The slave pits of Dromund Kaas were dark, damp, and dingier than the wildest imagination could have painted a picture of, a "can't imagine it unless you've been there" sort of unpleasantness.  (first line of the prologue of By The Stars, Kas’s “main” storyline part of Subterfugeverse, which hasn’t started public posting yet because I want to get a lot further into Creeping Shadows and get a lot more of a writing...schedule, of sorts, going for myself before I try anything ambitious like working on two longfics at the same time)

2. Of all the times she had imagined speaking to one of her uncles again, suddenly now that Abaron stood before her, Ni’kasi felt herself rather tongue-tied.  (Also By The Stars, first line of Chapter 2, when Kas rocks up to the Korriban Academy and finally runs into her uncle Abaron again for the first time in like 70 years. This one’s gonna be emotional folks, that’s for damn sure ;-; I wish this meme was “favourite line” instead of “first line” so I could post the real good one /jk )

1. One thing led to another, over and over and over again, if Khem and Ashara left them unattended for too long, they’d end up in the Sith’s quarters.  (this one is such a new WIP that it doesn’t have a proper title yet, just a really silly and very literal placeholder until I can figure out a decent one to convey the proper point across :) “All of Kas’s emotional development happens during smut scenes and I’m just rolling with it now”. Basically the smut fic where Kas and Andronikos become truly serious/exclusive. it’ll be a good one! Explores a headcanon of mine regarding how Sith treat people knowing their “real” name vs. their Darth name/title, and why. I’m really excited to get this one done, I like this headcanon a lot and I can’t wait to share it properly with you guys!! <3)

[paganwitchisis]

Tuesday Sneak Peek

This comes out soon as I am almost done writing it. Here is some information about the snippet:

Title: Elven Judgment

Rating: E for Explicit

Summary: Set after the events in Baldur’s Gate 3, Tav and spawn Astarion are expecting a new bundle of joy when Astarion reconnects with his parents. Things don’t go as planned with the soon to be grandparents! Expect drama, suspense, fluff, smut and an overly protective Astarion!

Warnings: Smut, pregnancy, oral, anal, PinV smut, creampie, breeding (kink), hurtful parents, mental abuse, violence (bandits), blood drinking, blood (wounds), protective/soft Astarion, birth (graphic depictions), adult language.

I am also looking for a proofreader as my current one can't keep up with my content. They want to back out but I am poor on grammar (mostly the dreaded comma). If anyone knows anyone who would like to help or where I could go to find help in proofreading the fanfiction for Baldur's Gate, let me know! This snippet is not proofread yet.

[psalacanthea]

WiP Whenever

I don't know what to say. It's in my head so I wrote it down to try and purge it (but ofc this is a plot bunny so I just gave it more space in my brain). If you want me to continue writing this, please do let me know.

Astarion x Tav, modern au. When you accidentally rescue a spoiled brat on the street who got turned into a vampire last night.

...

There was someone in Zynatheri's bedroom- not unusual, but she didn't remember bringing anyone home from last night's gig.

Eventually, she realized the intermittent creaking and shifting of her mattress was not, in fact, a one night stand trying to sneak out without waking her, but someone kicking it.

One eye slowly cracked open, took note of the thin streak of light peeking between her curtains, and Zyn closed her eyes again.  Still daytime.  “M’sleeping.  See y’self out.”

A high, irritated voice drilled into her brain like a five in the morning construction crew.  “Why are you sleeping?  You’re marginally elven.  It’s been five hours, get up already.  Your fridge is empty, I'm hungry, and you don’t have any tea.”

Her mattress was kicked again in an irritable rhythm, like a tantruming child.

Oh, right, she’d accidentally picked up some patriar on a bender last night who'd wandered into the wrong neighborhood and gotten jumped.  Great.  She gathered up her blanket from under her neck and chest, and bunched it up so she could shove her face into it.  “M’nocturnal, sun hurts my eyes.  Go home.”

“I can’t go home!” His voice finally penetrated with some nuance, and she realized he sounded…scared.  Why was he scared?  His voice sharpened.  “Now wake up!”

Why was he scared and annoying?

Last night’s chaos and confusion finally filtered in, reminding her of just what the hell was going on.  He’d all but burst into her apartment just before dawn, yelling something about being chased.  Right.  She’d assumed he’d gotten lost slumming it, and had given him a couch and thrown a ward on the door because she was too tired to deal with it.

But now it was daytime and he was still here.  

Ick.

Why couldn’t he go– “Dedicated robber.  I guess.”  Reaching up, she pinched the bridge of her nose, rubbing her fingertips into the corners of her eyes.  Ick, eye crunchies.  Still not paying attention to him, she excavated them with a nail, flopping over onto her side.  “Just go out through the alley, there’s a door marked garbage in the lobby.”

“That won’t stop me from burning!”

Something was shoved into the line of her blurry vision, which she lifted a hand to bat out of the way, only to realize the skin was blistered and peeling.  Wait, what?  Was that– “Are you burned?”  Had he been burned before?  She didn’t think so.  Well, he was a patriar.  “Did you try to cook or something?”

“No, the sun did this.”

Wait, what?  Zyn was too tired for this.  With a little groan, she reached up and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, trying to banish sleep.  Luckily the idiot moved out of her way as she swung her legs off the bed, heaving herself up to sit.  

Raking back her hair with both hands, she inhaled sharply through her nose and stood up, feet instinctively avoiding the splintered bit of wood just at the edge of her bed.  The landlord kept claiming he was going to finish the flooring.  She didn’t care; Zyn got a slight discount because it wasn’t and she needed the money.

Ignoring the tall, irritatingly pale eladrin standing over her like she was supposed to solve his problems, she turned away from the bed and headed for the bathroom. Zyn tugged her t-shirt down over her ass.  Avoiding the damaged threshold, she pulled open the creaking bathroom door and headed for the sink.  The eladrin followed.

Turning on the tap, she let the water run for a few seconds before splashing her face, the ice-cold water penetrating both mind and body alike, briskly waking her up.  There.  Now she could be lucid.  The toothbrush she definitely needed to replace was shoved into her mouth, and then she set to picking the dried toothpaste off of the mouth of the tube.  

“I’m having a bit of an urgent situation here, if you don’t mind.”

“Mhmm,” Zyn mumbled absently, squeezing out a thin ribbon of toothpaste and smearing it over her brush.  “I don’t have a spare toothbrush.”

“I. Don’t. Care.”

“You should, it’s important to–” she glanced over her shoulder again, un-blurred eyes finally taking him in.  Oh.  That’s why she’d let him into her apartment.

His face was long, a little too aristocratic for her liking, but with a very pretty mouth and devastatingly attractive eyes, despite the colo– wait.  Narrowing hers, Zynatheri peered into the stranger’s scarlet eyes.  Red eyes.  On an eladrin.

“Are you half drow?”

He drew himself up, looking offended.  Still disheveled, though.  “How dare you.”

“Don’t be a bi–” She stopped.  Her eyes flickered down to his burned hand.  Burned.  Red eyes.  He’d been standing behind her when she– 

Zyn turned back around, staring into the spotty, tarnished mirror.

Only her own reflection gazed back, the doorway behind her empty.  Shit.  All right, so she’d invited a vampire into her house.  Fine, fine, that was fine.  But why had he tried to go out in the su–

“So weird question, but those guys that jumped you last night.  Did one of them bite you?”

“What are you– yes, if you must know.”

“Look in the mirror.”

There was silence from behind her for a good few seconds, as the stranger had a Revelation.  Not wanting to waste time, Zyn took the opportunity to wet her toothbrush and start brushing away, waiting for reality to sink in.  Neh.  If he tried to bite her he probably didn’t know how, so a swift kick to the balls should settle things.

Luckily she knew a lot of people who were probably okay with being bit by a vampire spawn, but as far as she knew usually spawns weren’t just…able to escape like this.  Probably better to hand him off to someone and be done with it before the big one came to claim him.  If he really was a spoiled little patriar, his family would probably figure it out.

“Shit,” he said from behind her, voice hushed.

[felassan]

New BioWare Blog post.

🔊 BIOWARE COMMUNITY UPDATE: WRITING OUR WORLDS

by BioWare on September 29 2022

"Hello, everyone! And welcome back to another BioWare™ Community Update. It’s been a little while since we last spoke, but our work continues—as does the storytelling. 

So far, years of effort have gone into our next game, Dragon Age: Dreadwolf™, with hundreds of people working to bring this shared vision to life. We’ve been quietly building it behind the scenes for a while now, so we wanted to give you a look at some stuff we’ve been working on! But let’s start with a little recap for those who might be new around here.

Dragon Age is a series that puts you in the heart of a magical world, but what happens while you’re there—who lives and dies, who rises and falls, who loves and loses—that’s up to you. There are no right choices… only those you make.

At the heart of every one of our games are our stories and characters. Each tale is told by the people who live in them—companions who fight at your side and foes who challenge your every move. This is core to the experiences we craft and is what we believe makes a “BioWare RPG” what it is.

Each character has their own motivations and goals that influence how the story plays out, but so do you. The Hero of Ferelden. The Champion of Kirkwall. The Herald of Andraste. Each of them marked their legacy in the annals of history, but time marches forward and the age of these heroes cannot last forever. As a friend of ours once said, “it’s time for a new hero.”

Making a game that carries forth the stories that came before it while still being a starting point for someone brand-new can be tough—deep lore can seem daunting to new players—but it’s also an exciting challenge! The development process is iterative and dynamic. Ideas get concepted, tested, thrown out, brought back, and changed constantly during early stages, all in the pursuit of getting things just right. And it’s very collaborative, too! Everyone helps each other to build something we hope will excite you.

So, let’s talk about that.

As we said, storytelling is at the core of what we do. Our writers helm the creation of your narrative experiences and work as part of a talented team with editors, producers, and quality verifiers to build out the story, characters, dialogue, and more. And that’s not even getting into the other teams who work so closely with them to bring these tales to life!

But what does working on the writing and editing teams entail? And how are we going about writing for Dreadwolf? It’s not like writing a book where everyone has the same experience on the page. Each player interacts with the team’s work differently based on the choices they make, how much of the game they interact with, and the kind of character they want to play. Here’s how our team is thinking about that, but first…

Please enjoy this sneak peek at writing for Dreadwolf, directly from the game’s codex!

(Codex assets are not representative of in-game format.)

Written by Sylvia Feketekuty; edited by Cameron Harris

Hey! Care to do us the honor of introducing yourselves and telling our community a little bit about what you do?

Ryan Cormier: Hello! I’m one of three narrative editors on Dragon Age: Dreadwolf. Our job is to ensure BioWare’s stories are told with clarity, consistency, and accuracy. That might mean correcting comma splices in a codex entry, deciding if a hero’s dramatic speech carries on one line too long, reviewing plot points, or helping a writer choose which scene to tweak without impacting the overall arc. Somewhere in between, we’re spell-checking some ridiculously long elven word or standardizing a character’s voice.

Sylvia Feketekuty: Hi, I’m a senior writer on Dreadwolf. I wrote of one of the codex entries here, “Misconceptions about the Necropolis” (as well as the character who “penned” the entry). These codices are just a tiny snippet of the game, but we wanted to share them as a springboard for talking about our writing and editing process.

Sometimes, when I tell people I write for games, they politely try to figure out how to ask, "But writing dialogue doesn’t take up your entire day every day, does it?" Truthfully, no. I'm responsible for coming up with plots, characters, and dialogue, but also for designing missions with our level designers. I work with them on pacing, information flow, and addressing many, many revisions as feedback comes in.

We're also responsible for a lot of non-voiced text: codex entries, notes in the world, item descriptions, weapon names, etc. A huge part of my job is just explaining the narrative needs of my characters and missions to other departments and coordinating it all with them.

It sounds like you two do more than the average person might expect an editor or writer to do. How do you two work together, then?

Sylvia: Way early on during the concepting stages, the editing team gives their feedback with the rest of the narrative team on high-level stuff like the new characters, plot, and themes. Once first-draft writing for a character or major mission is complete, we also have editors give us their formal feedback during our big peer reviews.

Ryan: At this stage, as we near preproduction, editors talk with writers about big-picture topics like characters, lore, and themes. These elements need the most time. Editing starts broadly and becomes detailed later in the process because it doesn’t help a writer to hear, “This is a run-on sentence,” when we’re still five drafts away from final. We save line edits for last. Until then, editors try to hold their tongues on grammar and punctuation.

Sylvia: After the peer review, when revisions are done and we’re in a position to start recording voiced dialogue, I work more closely with the editing team. Editors will suggest better ways to make one sentence flow into the next, spot inconsistencies, and point out when I’ve written something nonsensical. Every editor also “owns” certain character voices, just like writers do, and I’ll often go to them to hash out something for a particular character or to get a second opinion.

Ryan: Here, in the final drafts, no edit is too picky. This is where editors tweak the writing with changes to grammar, punctuation, and flow and where the passive voice dies a swift death. We read lines aloud at our desks while examining lore, tone, voice, and other details that change how a line reads in the recording booth or appears in the subtitles. Voice-recording notes and plot summaries are finalized, too. All this fine-tuning involves close work between a writer and editor while we pass edits back and forth, fix this, change that, change it back, debate, agree, and finally send it off for recording and translation.

So from the very beginning to the very end, our editors and writers are in lockstep with each other. What about the rest of the devs and other teams?

Ryan: Editors are the bridge between the writers and out-of-studio partners like actors and localizers. Once final drafts are complete, our game dialogue is sent to our in-house performance team, voice actors, and translators, all working in numerous languages. Editors work with those teams daily and are the troubleshooters when technical or cultural concerns arise. Sometimes, an English joke just doesn’t land in the localized copy, or maybe we learn that a name we chose for an idyllic village in Thedas has an inappropriate meaning in another language.

Sylvia: One of the best Dragon Age: Inquisition™ translator questions I ever saw was from a German translator who wanted to know what one character meant when he talked about “dancers with tassels.”

I mentioned this above, but most of my cross-team work is keeping up communication. Does the audio team have all the context they need? Does Character Art know a plot point requires an alternate character outfit? People often compare narrative games to movies, but a lot of them are nothing like movies, structurally speaking. RPGs the size of ours are more like a full season of a bizarrely nonlinear television series with so many mutable, moving parts.

That definitely paints quite the picture. You mentioned your work on DA:I just then, too. What about on Dreadwolf? What’s it like writing for the next game?

Sylvia: It’s been eight years since our last DA game came out. I’ve seen a lot of adults fondly reminiscing about how they played it as teens! Dragon Age: Dreadwolf has been a balance of providing answers to long-standing questions for veteran fans while making a game that new players, or someone who only played DA:I years ago, can also get into.

Ryan: Unlike the vast galaxies we explore in our other franchises, Dragon Age: Dreadwolf returns us to Thedas, where we can revisit friends and places that are familiar. Some fans haven’t spent time with Dragon Age since the 2014 release of Inquisition, while others have read every comic and story published since. Others never played a Dragon Age game at all and have no idea who the bald guy is (he’s Solas).

It’s a varied audience, and development for Dreadwolf has included conversations about how the team can simultaneously reward our returning fans and welcome new ones.

Sylvia: There are other things, of course, but we can’t really get into that until the game comes out.

Well, we’ll see what the future holds, then. If you were speaking to a fan, new or old, what would you tell them makes a Dragon Age game unique?

Sylvia: To me, BioWare has always carried the old-school D&D legacy in its veins. I try to inject some of what I love about tabletop roleplaying into my work: bizarre encounters, prideful villains, adventurers thrust together, arcs with big stakes that retain a sense of playfulness or adventure. It’s everything I’ve liked in the best fantasy tabletop games I’ve played in.

Ryan: For me, it's the characters. A Dragon Age story is full of heroes you want to visit a Kirkwall tavern with, or at a stylish Antivan party; travelling with friends whose witty banter makes the time fly by. The greatest compliment fans give our characters is the years of art, cosplay, and fan fiction that Dragon Age has inspired. That’s a sincere connection between our audience and our creations. And a villain who makes people want to spit on the ground at the mention of their name? Even better.

Though we can’t yet show our community our characters acting in-game, dialogue isn’t our only option. What about these codex entries? Is that something you could talk about?

Ryan: Yes! Codex entries are valuable because they provide information that might otherwise disrupt the flow of the game. For example, players might want details about the Grand Necropolis in Nevarra, but characters shouldn’t sound like tour guides. Before any writing, the narrative team discusses which entries are required and which aren’t. It’s crucial to properly time codex unlocks with player progression. No one wants a dozen entries only ten minutes into the game, but interested players shouldn’t have to wait long to learn more about the people, places, and concepts introduced. Does a codex unlock when something’s first mentioned? When a related character appears? Is the entry only required if they actually interact with said thing?

Sylvia: Making all our codex entries “in-world” (letters, books, notes, etc.) gives us ways to play with information. I chose the “Misconceptions about the Necropolis” codex to show everyone because it was really fun to write. I wanted the in-game author to be frustrated with Brother Genitivi’s portrayal of the Necropolis while also trying to deny the depth of his irritation with said world-famous scholar. It’s a diary, yet we see the author still feels obligated to exercise a measure of decorum in his private writing. And the micro-revelation at the end is that it’s someone he knows in real life, not far-off Genitivi, who is needling the poor guy about Nevarra’s death rituals.

It’s fun to layer things like this, and players are savvy about those layers. They pick up (and I think appreciate) the character coming through. It’s also a collaborative creative process. My Necropolis codex entry, like many others, was edited by Cameron Harris, another of our editors. In this case, Cameron caught that I had set file information incorrectly and also adjusted the overall stylization for consistency

Here are a couple more codex entries for you. Let us know what you think of them!

Visnomer entry written by Patrick Weekes | Dowager entry written by Lukas Kristjanson Both edited by Ryan Cormier

We hope you enjoyed this first discussion about how our writing and editing teams are thinking about Dreadwolf! Every step of the way, we’re working together as a team, even in ways you might not imagine. From integrating written materials into the engine itself to our devs doing placeholder dialogue for characters, it’s a process that evolves over time.

But your efforts never stop, either! Naturally, when Solas shows up, so do many of you, and with incredible creations, no less. So in honor of the Dread Wolf himself, we wanted to showcase some amazing pieces we’ve seen. [please see source link for these] Oh, and we absolutely could not leave out Handsome Solas.

Every day, the game gets one step closer to our next big development milestone—and one step closer to where it’s going to be when you play it. But these changes don’t just happen. They’re being worked on by the teams of people shaping this next adventure for you—carrying the vision together on our road to launch.

We want to keep showing you what we’re up to, so let us know if you like what you’re seeing! We have some fun stuff planned, so be sure to keep an eye out for our upcoming BCUs, one of which will include a look at what our designers are working on!

Until next then, may the Dread Wolf take you.

—The BioWare Team"

[source and full post, tweet source, tweet source 2]

[fiberpunk027]

Writing Process Updates

I don't know that I will ever go back to not prewriting a story ever again. This has been a really lovely experience. While I'm grateful that writing Eat Your Young got me back into writing, this next fic when it's done I think will be a much higher quality because I've taken my time to connect the dots before even thinking about posting. It will probably be difficult to return to posting in a more serialized style with my BG3 fic, but I think I've learned a lot taking this time to follow where my summer brain rot has led me.

That being said enjoy a tiny sneak peek below the break.

The weather was just beginning to turn cold when another Landsmeet assembled in Denerim. The Arls, Banns, Teryns, and their entourages arrived in the early afternoon, as the frost-covered ground of morning was now long forgotten in the sun's rays. Landsmeets could be tedious multi-day affairs especially if agreements could not be made, which had been the case as of late. The reconstruction of the Circle’s Tower, Kinloch Hold, was the major concern at this meeting. Temporary repairs made during the Blight had begun to degrade and a more permanent solution was needed soon. He knew many of the nobles would disagree with wasting any of their rebuilding efforts on the Circle of Mages, considering it a matter for the Chantry and their templars. On the contrary, there were enough in the group who counted Mages within their bloodline that would care about the circle’s safety and comfort. It was bound to be a hotly debated topic. 

As he greeted each guest warmly. One thing he was confident in was his ability to play host. He may not have been raised to become a King like Cailan had, but that was something that set him apart from his half-brother. He was not bound by an ingrained decorum and often stepped outside of the strict boundaries that others tried to set for him. Just because he was King Alistair didn’t mean he would cease being Alistair altogether. 

And it didn’t stop him from watching expectantly to see if a familiar face would show themselves. Not that he expected to see the Arlessa of Amaranthine. So far she had sent her Seneschal to each Landsmeet that had been called. Still, news would always trickle in during these gatherings from gossiping nobles, their lips loosened by company and too much wine too early in the day. He could not resist eavesdropping. 

“Did you hear of the Darkspawn attack on Vigil’s Keep?” 

“All of the Orlesian Wardens were killed in the fighting.” 

“Served them right for stepping into Ferelden unwelcome.” 

“The Hero of Ferelden showed the Darkspawn what's what she did.” 

“I heard she had to conscript poor Arl Howe’s son. What a way to learn about your father’s legacy.” 

“She’s got an apostate with her too, a handsome fella, but still completely dangerous, Warden or not. I can’t believe they would trust Mages in their ranks.”

“It doesn’t seem safe, you never know when they’ll think enough's enough and turn to blood magic or worse demons!”

“It’s not any different from the elves. You can’t tell from lookin’ which ones have at least been civilized in an Alienage and which are still wild beasts.”

“Never thought I would live to see a ‘knife ears’ running Amaranthine, it does seem almost fitting after what Howe did to the Alienage.”

“I didn’t even know women could be Wardens, let alone elven women.”

“Such a pretty little thing. Too bad she never joins these meets. Could use something nice to look at.”

“Do Wardens take vows of chastity?”

“I sure hope not! T’would be a waste of a good body.”

When the conversations became too inappropriate a loud clearing of his throat was all that was needed to remind the present company that he was within earshot. He couldn’t control the thoughts of men as much as he couldn’t control his own at times, but it was better not to hear such unnecessary slander about someone he was once close to. There was a part of him that wished she could overhear, and present the offending parties with the gleaming edge of her daggers. 

The afternoon dragged on and the flood of arriving nobles seemed to have slowed to a mere trickle. He was just about to call it quits and return to his quarters for a quick break when there was the announcement of another arrival. 

“Presenting the company of the Arlessa of Amaranthine!” the caller shouted. 

“Ahh Seneschal Varel, I nearly missed you. You’re not typically running this late,” he said, greeting the man warmly. 

“Your Majesty, we had a slight delay upon leaving, but you trouble yourself too much with these pleasantries,” he replied, shaking the King’s outstretched hand.

“We? Have you finally decided to bring your lovely wife along with you?”

Varel cleared his throat, “May I announce to you the Arlessa of Amaranthine, Warden Commander Tabris.”

As Varel stepped to the side allowing her to greet him he could feel his stomach drop to his feet. 

Her head was bowed, hands clasped tightly behind her back. The ashy brown hair that had once danced along the edge of her chin had grown long in the many months since he’d last seen her, now grazing past her shoulders. The pointed tips of her ears sticking out between elaborate braids in the traditional Ferelden style. Shockingly, instead of her usual leather armor she was dressed in a simple but elegant blue and gray gown, emblazoned with the crest of the Wardens. He was certain he’d never seen her dressed so much like a normal woman as long as he had known her. Despite the circumstance, she looked calm and serene, not as if the whole of Thedas had come to a complete halt around them. 

The first time they met he’d been surprised by her lithe frame. She looked so small and frail in the ill-fitting leather armor she’d been issued, clearly built for a much larger woman. But the steely resolve in her bright hazel eyes had been clear from the moment they first locked eyes. 

Even so, Alistair couldn’t remember the last time Warden Tabris had actually looked him in the eye. Sure she had addressed him cordially, given him a tight-lipped smile on occasion, and even smiled politely at the odd terrible joke he’d cracked in her presence. But her gaze was always shifted ever so slightly from his own, her eyes never managing to reach his, always sliding away to his chin or his hairline.

“Seneschal, you say that as if the Warden Commander and I hadn’t slayed the Archdemon and ended the Blight together,” he laughed trying to hide the nervous crack in his voice. 

The Seneschal chuckled as did another man he hadn’t noticed standing slightly behind her. He wore the tell tale blues and grays of the wardens, his long sandy hair partially tied back from his face and loosely framing the comfortable smile on his face. Even without carrying a staff, it was clear to Alistair this man was a mage. He could practically smell the magic that crackled within him, one small thing he was grateful to know from his Templar training. As if suddenly realizing he was in the presence of the King of his country the man quickly bowed alongside the Warden Commander and mumbled his apologies. 

“This is Anders,” she said, straightening back up, her face the very picture of stoicism. He wondered how she could appear so calm when inside he was burning alive. “I believe you met briefly during your last visit to Vigil’s Keep?”

He squinted at the man before him trying to place him.

“I suspected there would be a lack of perspective from inside the circle. I’ve brought Anders along to ensure we had adequate representation,” she continued.

“I tried to convince her not to,” Varel added quickly, his eyes darting back and forth between the Warden and the King. 

“I believe it was at your suggestion that I be conscripted, Your Majesty.” Anders gave a lopsided smile as the pieces fell into place. 

“Please tell me you did not just bring an Apostate mage into a Landsmeet, Zukal?” he hissed, looking around to ensure he wasn’t overheard. A throbbing pressure was beginning to build just behind his right eye. He pinched the bridge of his nose and wondered if she brought this man along specifically to pain him. 

“Warden Commander is my title, Your Majesty,” she quickly corrected him, her eyes narrowing. The men beside her looked at each other nervously seeing how brusquely she corrected their King.

He took a slow breath to steady himself. When was the last time anyone had spoken to him so harshly? “Apologies, Warden Commander,” he said, giving her a small bow of his own. He knew better than to be so familiar with her, but her faint glimmer of anger gave him a perverse sense of pride. Making her angry meant he had some sort of affect on her, positive or not.  “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to address you as anything, let alone your given title. Old habits and whatnot.”

“Should I have forgotten to address you by your title I would be promptly thrown into Fort Drakon,” she said coldly, “Regardless of our history, Your Majesty.” Her eyes bored into his forehead, but he was grateful for once to not have to take the full intensity of her stare. Much like the daggers she was fond of wielding her words and gaze cut into him, wounding his pride, but more importantly fanning the flames of his anger. 

“It won’t happen again,” he promised, offering her a calm smile and a clenched jaw, “I’m sure the Seneschal has been able to explain to you both the process here. Please feel free to join the others in the main hall once you’re settled.” He quickly turned on his heel and made his escape. It wasn’t lost on him how much this felt like a retreat from battle, instead of a graceful exit. But it didn’t matter, he needed to leave and clear his head before he said anything else she could hold against him. 

“Your Majesty?” she called after him, bringing him to a halt and cocking his ear toward her. 

“Anders is a Grey Warden, conscripted to the same noble calling we both took on willingly. I would appreciate it if his former status as an Apostate were not mentioned, less it ruins any chance we have of being heard without bias,” she said.

“Of course,” he answered, continuing to walk away, “I look forward to learning from him over the course of this Landsmeet. I’m sure there will be much anticipation to hear from one of Kinloch’s own.” He turned down the hall and out of their sight. 

“Next time you should just ask him outright to arrest us for treason,” he heard the mage sarcastically comment as he left. 

“If he expects respect then he needs to provide it as well,” she replied as casually as if talking about the weather. 

The kindling in his stomach she’d ignited burned a little brighter at those words. He wanted to turn back around and remind her he hadn’t wanted this respect, this role, or this life. If he had still been just a Bastard and a Warden he would have, but if he remained either of those things she would have been able to look him in the eye wouldn’t she? Neither of them would be in this awful mess in the first place. 

He did his best not to stomp his way to his quarters, his refuge since he’d become King. He threw himself into a massive wingback chair propped up near his favorite window and brooded. How dare she treat him like one of her wet behind-the-ear recruits when she couldn’t even bear to look him in the eye. Of course, maybe that was preferable knowing their history. It had been quite some time since they traveled across Ferelden urging their countrymen to honor the Warden’s treaties and prepare for the oncoming Blight. Shouldn’t time have made this easier for her?

Then again, time clearly hadn’t made it any easier on him. It wasn’t often he found himself in her presence. Vigil’s Keep was far enough away from Denerim that they rarely crossed paths and the burdens of running a kingdom didn’t exactly leave him time to travel aimlessly. But in the idle hours when he was finally alone with his thoughts, they always drifted to the past. Back to the dark days when all of Ferelden seemed to be against them and the single bright spot in his life was her gaze searching for him after every battle. 

This Landsmeet won’t last forever, he thought to himself as he stared out the window into the gardens below, maybe the discussions would be brief and the gathered nobles would be back on their way by tomorrow evening. Maybe the leaders of Ferelden would come together and unite in their unequivocal support of restoring Kinloch Hold to a more livable state. Or more likely they would band together against the mages expecting them to live in squalor or worse turn them over to the Templars entirely. But this was his time, he could fantasize about whatever unrealistic reality he wished. And right now he wished to think about a reality where he didn’t have to face Warden Tabris again so soon.

[king-of-fae]

Left Behind

A map of the dormitories rests on the coffee table. Lines are carefully drawn, mapping a plan of attack that leads directly toward the kitchens on the first floor. You and Callum have been planning this all weekend and now the day has come. The day of the heist. Today, the head chef is serving their magnum opus for dessert: honey cake with a wildberry compote. The chef claims that it’s some ancient family recipe that they refuse to share.

It’s a huge hit with the students, but the unfortunate consequence of that popularity is that if you don’t get to the dining hall fast enough, it’s gone. Neither of you were able to make it fast enough the last few opportunities and drastic times call for drastic measures. Is sneaking into the dining hall before it opens perhaps a little too drastic? Perhaps. Is the cake really that good? Yes. Yes, it is.

“We can’t afford to make any mistakes, MC,” Callum says in a solemn tone, “I refuse to let those fools in room 313 taunt me again.”

You remember them. They flaunted their dessert in front of both of you, purposely sitting at your table just to be annoying. You also remember Callum kicking them in the shins.

You match his tone and nod, “Those guys suck.”

You fold up the map and put it in your pocket. You and Callum lock eyes and he gives you a resolute nod before you both begin your biggest heist yet.

__________________________

Things definitely didn't go according to plan. You had gotten to the kitchen without any issues and found a couple cakes sitting on the counter to rest. Unfortunately, you didn't account for the head chef's ability to hear you from the other room. You always forget just how acute elven hearing is. So here you and Callum sit, on a bench in the currently empty dining hall as you await your fates with Head Chef Lazuli standing before you.

"I'm not entirely sure how you thought I wouldn't catch you two," they say, towering over you two. You can see their tail flicking back and forth irritably.

"Are you going to send us to the Grand Enchanter's office?" You tug nervously at a stray thread on your sleeve. Next to you, Callum is sitting cross-legged on the bench with his arms crossed and a visible pout of defeat on his face. He has opted for the silent treatment against your captor so that leaves it to you to negotiate.

You look up at them, trying to look as remorseful as possible. They stare you down with stern cerulean eyes until they sigh and run a hand through their short, choppy brown hair.

"Alright, I'll cut you some slack." They hold up a finger to interrupt your escape from the bench. "In return, you two have to help me finish baking."

Callum perks back up, "You're gonna let us help bake the cakes?! I thought you said the recipe was a secret!"

They laugh, "Nah, I just say that 'cause I'm too lazy to write it down. Now hurry up and get back into the kitchen."

The rest of your evening is spent in the kitchens. You had to do the dishes after the dinner rush, but the chef let you two make an extra cake to take back to your dorms to share once your punishment was over. Covered in flour and with honey still stuck to your fingers, you put the cover over your sweet bounty and pass it to Callum to take home while you wash your hands. As you dry your hands you notice a piece of cake set aside on the counter.

"Hey Chef?" You point to the lone dessert, "Why's that one sitting out?"

They peek out from the pantry where they were taking inventory, looking sheepish. "Oh, uh, don't worry about it. It probably just got left behind."

You nod, unsure as to why they seemed a little flustered by the question, but you're more worried about making sure Callum doesn't eat your half of the cake so you leave it be and dash back to your dorm.

___________________________

"Hmmm, I don't know if this one counts as a win."

"Pretty sure it does."

The Grand Enchanter takes another bite of cake while he thinks.

"Are you sure? They got all the way into the kitchen this time."

"And I still caught them before they even touched one of the cakes! It counts!"

He chuckles and pulls out a worn journal, making another tally in the margins, "Sure, sure. Careful though, Lazuli, I think they're getting craftier by the day."

They step over to the ostentatious desk and lean against it, right next to the high and mighty Grand Enchanter himself. The title doesn't seem to suit the man they see before them right now, though. Leaned back in his chair, collar loosened and a small smile of contentment on his lips as he eats. They reach over and wipe away a smudge of berry compote from the corner of his lips.

"You and I both know that'll be more of a problem for you than me, Damien."

Maybe one day he'll tell them what's going on with those two students. They know there's something sinister about the situation, and they know he's caught up in it. Maybe it'll take a while for him to say something, but they've got plenty of time to wait. Until then, there'll always be a plate left behind.

[findroleplay]

Monster’s prince bride [ long-term] [discord only] NOT REPLACING ANYONE

Hi! I’m looking for a long-term partner for this rp plot. There will be NSFW elements so please look over the triggers above the plot! I’m 27 and I’m EST timezone. I write lit-novella with detail. I’m active and can respond 3-5 times a day (do not expect the same!) I will share my oc in DM’s and on Discord, I do not post my Ocs on Reddit as far as pictures but I will have name and age. His name is Onic and he is 24. I use anime/artbreeder face claims!

I’m looking for a partner that loves to world-build and chat ooc. That will share and give ideas for the plot and not have me carry it. I love to make playlists of my characters or moments, so it would be nice if they liked to do that as well! The monster can be from myth (vampire, Orc, Gaint, ext) or it can be your own made-up race. It can be as much fantasy or as little as we both like! Your character can be as dark as you like as long as we talk it over first!

[Triggers!: Mpreg (if agreed on!), NSFW fighting, gore and smut!, Hints at abuse]

Plot:

Drevell Empire is home to the human and elven races. It was said that the outside of the Empire was dangerous, most people who leave don’t come back, and those who do have scary stories of monster empires. As a child Onic never feared outside the walls, there were woods and other things to explore that were more important than a monster. It never went wrong for him, he always spoke to his other friends about the creatures and the planets around the Empire they would never see.

That was until one faithful night, sneaking out once more in the hole only to see monsters and knights clanking swords in battle. The sight scared the young prince enough to try and go back only to find a hurt monster next to the wall, around his age. It was then he had a choice, to save the monster or let it bleed, and he simply couldn’t bring himself to let it bleed. After patching it up he ran back into the kingdom, only sneaking out after peeking out to make sure no monsters were near enough to harm him.

Years later the word was sent out, the prince is to be married. It was to be expected and as much as Ornic had trained and got ready for the day he simply felt like it wasn’t his choice, human and elven alike came and went, his father jotting down names only for gasp and screams to fill the room, the monsters were back, in front their own leader. The shock overcame everyone in the room, even the prince. The demand was simply, he was going to marry the human or war was at hand.

add me on discord: Amberrayne2020

[yetanotherrpfinder]

Monster's prince bride [ long-term] [discord only] NOT REPLACING ANYONE

Hi! I'm looking for a long-term partner for this rp plot. There will be NSFW elements so please look over the triggers above the plot! I'm 27 and I'm EST timezone. I write lit-novella with detail. I'm active and can respond 3-5 times a day (do not expect the same!) I will share my oc in DM's and on Discord, I do not post my Ocs on Reddit as far as pictures but I will have name and age. His name is Onic and he is 24. I use anime/artbreeder face claims!

I'm looking for a partner that loves to world-build and chat ooc. That will share and give ideas for the plot and not have me carry it. I love to make playlists of my characters or moments, so it would be nice if they liked to do that as well! The monster can be from myth (vampire, Orc, Gaint, ext) or it can be your own made-up race. It can be as much fantasy or as little as we both like! Your character can be as dark as you like as long as we talk it over first!

[Triggers!: Mpreg (if agreed on!), NSFW fighting, gore and smut!, Hints at abuse]

Plot:

Drevell Empire is home to the human and elven races. It was said that the outside of the Empire was dangerous, most people who leave don't come back, and those who do have scary stories of monster empires. As a child Onic never feared outside the walls, there were woods and other things to explore that were more important than a monster. It never went wrong for him, he always spoke to his other friends about the creatures and the planets around the Empire they would never see.

That was until one faithful night, sneaking out once more in the hole only to see monsters and knights clanking swords in battle. The sight scared the young prince enough to try and go back only to find a hurt monster next to the wall, around his age. It was then he had a choice, to save the monster or let it bleed, and he simply couldn't bring himself to let it bleed. After patching it up he ran back into the kingdom, only sneaking out after peeking out to make sure no monsters were near enough to harm him.

Years later the word was sent out, the prince is to be married. It was to be expected and as much as Ornic had trained and got ready for the day he simply felt like it wasn't his choice, human and elven alike came and went, his father jotting down names only for gasp and screams to fill the room, the monsters were back, in front their own leader. The shock overcame everyone in the room, even the prince. The demand was simply, he was going to marry the human or war was at hand.

Discord:amberrayne2020

[findingroleplays]

Monster's prince bride [ long-term] [discord only] NOT REPLACING ANYONE

Hi! I'm looking for a long-term partner for this rp plot. There will be NSFW elements so please look over the triggers above the plot! I'm 27 and I'm EST timezone. I write lit-novella with detail. I'm active and can respond 3-5 times a day (do not expect the same!) I will share my oc in DM's and on Discord, I do not post my Ocs on Reddit as far as pictures but I will have name and age. His name is Onic and he is 24. I use anime/artbreeder face claims!

I'm looking for a partner that loves to world-build and chat ooc. That will share and give ideas for the plot and not have me carry it. I love to make playlists of my characters or moments, so it would be nice if they liked to do that as well! The monster can be from myth (vampire, Orc, Gaint, ext) or it can be your own made-up race. It can be as much fantasy or as little as we both like! Your character can be as dark as you like as long as we talk it over first!

[Triggers!: Mpreg (if agreed on!), NSFW fighting, gore and smut!, Hints at abuse]

Plot:

Drevell Empire is home to the human and elven races. It was said that the outside of the Empire was dangerous, most people who leave don't come back, and those who do have scary stories of monster empires. As a child Onic never feared outside the walls, there were woods and other things to explore that were more important than a monster. It never went wrong for him, he always spoke to his other friends about the creatures and the planets around the Empire they would never see.

That was until one faithful night, sneaking out once more in the hole only to see monsters and knights clanking swords in battle. The sight scared the young prince enough to try and go back only to find a hurt monster next to the wall, around his age. It was then he had a choice, to save the monster or let it bleed, and he simply couldn't bring himself to let it bleed. After patching it up he ran back into the kingdom, only sneaking out after peeking out to make sure no monsters were near enough to harm him.

Years later the word was sent out, the prince is to be married. It was to be expected and as much as Ornic had trained and got ready for the day he simply felt like it wasn't his choice, human and elven alike came and went, his father jotting down names only for gasp and screams to fill the room, the monsters were back, in front their own leader. The shock overcame everyone in the room, even the prince. The demand was simply, he was going to marry the human or war was at hand.

Add me on discord:amberrayne2020

amberrayne2020

[mxdnxghtraven]

So, Who Dis?

Hey! Name's Phoenix, I'm 20 and use he/him pronouns. I'm currently in college studying photography with the intention to work with/for non-profits and human rights orgs to tell the stories of people who have been harmed by the system in one way or another via photography. Photos describe stories far better than words, and I love leaning into that in my work.

So, why am I writing then?

This has been my coping mechanism and one of my primary creative outlets since high school! Most of my work from that time was primarily poetry, but I dabbled in my fair share of short stories. Istrucpolis is one of my brainchildren from that time. I started it during my senior year!

Current Projects (as of September 2024)

I'm permanently swimming in WIPs (*sigh*), but I love working on multiple projects at once, so here are all of my current brainchildren :) I've started drafting stories aimed for an 18+ audience so minors get out LMAO

Istrucpolis: Dystopian post-apocalypse city but if it was elven, because why not. Debating if I will continue this one (discontinued).

-

IMPORTANT: Book sneak peek/intro

-

Power & Inequality: A series of standalones inspired by songs, academic discussions I participate in, and my work in my internship. Making use of my background in song analysis, human rights/social justice, storytelling, and documentation. Continuing this throughout the summer and beyond as inspiration comes to me.

Take Back What's Yours - Includes song link

-

Cozy: A series of standalones that I wrote on a whim either while sick or very tired. Enjoy my emotional half-delirious ramblings.

Cozy III (idk why tumblr is acting up)

-

Flight: A deep dive into the life of one very angsty trans-man, Aaron.

Needy (18+ age gate, connected to Flight)

-

Little Things: A several-post series that is based on true events. Also a deep dive, but Silas instead! Poor gay boy is in for quite the journey.

Hurt (it's doing it again vdfbfdb)

Worthy II (sexual implications)

Really?

[cssns]

Get to Know Me 2022

Please welcome @mie779​ to the CSSNS!

Tumblr Name

Mie779 (my main blog is; @inspiredbystardust​)

How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?

At least 3 years. 

When did you start shipping Captain Swan?

Day one i watched Hook and Emma talk. The spark between them is so tangible. 

What drew you to this event?

Talk on the discord server. 

What inspired your topic?

A fan art of Killian looking more elven with slightly more pointy ears and longer hair.

If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below.

It didn’t take long for Emma to realize that the man was hurt, another grunt of pain emanated from his lips. Emma moved cautiously down over the accumulated seaweed that had gathered in the crevice between the boulders, she slipped down on her knees, ignoring the seawater seeping into her tunic. When she gently touched the man’s shoulder he jumped in fright and began to roll away from her, “get away from me.” 

“I’m here to help you.” Emma urged and motioned for Ruby to come and help her. Ruby slipped down next to her and with the joint effort they had the man rolled to his back, his face pinched together in pain. When her eyes landed on his hand clutching his other arm she realized he might actually be missing his other hand. The black fabric of his shirt was caked in something wet, and when she gently touched it she saw blood sticking to her fingers. Looking up at her friend in alarm they both knew that the man’s life was in danger, if he lost more blood. “Can you hear me?” Emma said calmly and shook his shoulder gently, but the man only groaned in pain his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Emma clapped her hand over his scruffy cheek, the coarseness very unfamiliar for her, as Elves never grew beards. The man mumbled incoherently as he withered in pain, then he muttered “me hand, he took me—” 

What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?Writing and sharing my story while I interact w/other CS shippers. 

Killian does have the perfect ears for an elven story. This fic drops July 13th. Say hi to her on Tumblr and Discord.

[chaoticspacefam]

(banner is by @/purpleyin) I was tagged last weekend by @swtorpadawan​, thank you! I saw it too late to post something on the Sunday so I figured I’d just queue it for this week instead :’D

tagging uhhh, @tearlessrain​ @mercurypilgrim​ @darth-bagel​ @elaphaemourra​ and anyone else who feels like they have something to share :3

Have another By The Stars exerpt because Kas was strangely loud these past few weeks. This is from an outtake oneshot that may or may not include smut in the final version 😏 bc in true Sith fashion, all of Kas’s emotional development happens when she’s horny, sorrynotsorry

(the working title for this is “girl help I’m in love with the pirate”, I’m hoping a better one will come to me once I’ve finished the whole oneshot 😂)

…but for all his talk of leaving if things got “too fucked up”, for all the times he’d run off chasing that bastard “Rike”, Andronikos kept coming back. And always, she found herself waiting up for him. Ni’kasi knew she shouldn’t have, it was a fool thing, to get attached to a pirate. But she couldn’t help it. She was so very fond of him, consequences of that be damned. When Rike had gotten away from him and she’d gotten back to the ship after him and found him punching the bulkhead, the Sith had reacted on instinct to grab him by his wrists before the stupid man broke his knuckles. Somehow, even she wasn't sure how, she’d talked him down from his angry tirade and he’d smiled at her in a way that made her heart flutter.

Also you guys got an extra sentence bc it seemed weird to not finish the paragraphy but technically if you squint it’s six sentences I promise /hj

[a-bortmission]

Sneak Peak - of story I am writing

Helllloooo to go along with my last post, I have a special sneak peek preview of my fanfic which has no title yet ... need to decide on that. Anyways, Enjoy! (pls)

‎

(Also I proofread this but won’t be perfect so keep that in mind.)

-

As the path in front of Shiro came into formation, two choices presented themselves. The option of a gardener on the left and the word filled path to the right. Being left-handed Shiro tended to go for more of a left leaning approach, however, today was different for the sole reason he was expecting a very special delivery. So he went right and headed towards the letter department of the Kogane Kingdom. A very special place for numerous reasons but the most important were the monthly letters from his star-crossed lover, Matthew Holt. Star-crossed of course representing their love for space, as Shiro liked to think. As he approached the letter tower he took a deep breath to calm the nerves. Who knew if Matt’s letter came in today and who knew if he had even written one back yet. It had been a little over a month which is usually how long it takes but traveling between the Human and Elven lands was no feat. 

‎

Shiro waved awkwardly as he spoke, “Hello Letter Keeper, I have once again come to help as it is my princely duty to aid my kingdom.”

‎

“Ah, welcome back Prince Shiro. Once again, you don’t have to explain why you are here, I already know how much you enjoy helping me,“ the Letter Keeper said with a warm grin.

‎

Shiro nodded and smiled back before getting to work. He always started with aiding the Letter Keeper with the bin marked ‘URGENT’, as it seemed pretty important for the Kingdom’s success. After those had been sorted, as Shiro’s mail sorting routine goes, he disappeared to the back which held incoming letters for the townspeople. Starting with ‘Z’, he worked his way up until he reached the letters for himself. He had requested when he first started to receive mail from his old lovers, aka exes, for his letters to be moved to the townspeople section in hopes of his father not finding them. The Letter Keeper of course complied. As he flipped through the letters, it was the usual couple of papers from Curtis advertising his new invention. Shiro made a mental note to go visit him and find out what this ‘cleaning machine’ was all about. Eventually, Shiro came across the grand prize, the letter from Matthew. He knew he couldn’t open it here but he needed a grand escape plan, one that wasn’t suspicious. 

‎

Shiro emerged from the back, “Letter Keeper, as I have been here for quite a bit of time, my duties here are done… uhm… i-in fact I have to goo to ameetingnow. Bye.” 

‎

Shiro zoomed back to his room as the Letter Keeper gave him a strange look before going back to his sorting.

–

Once Shiro reached his room he hastily locked his door and carefully opened the letter.

‎

‘Dear my one and only beloved Shiro,

   ^that was gross.

Anyways, I accept your invitation to a date in the forest outside of the castle grounds. In fact, as I am writing this letter I am on my way to Yendailian and should be arriving at .. let’s say 11:86pm which is like a totally human time. Honestly, it’s hard to tell the time when you don’t have a huge clock on the ground. Just meet me around midnight. 

Can’t wait to share all of the wonderful kisses under the stars and be all sappy romantic.

Love, 

Matthew 

(signed in elvish as well)’

‎

Shiro’s face lit up as he read the letter and he was practically bouncing with excitement. It had been so long since he had seen Matt. What was he going to wear? Holy crap what was he going to wear! It couldn’t be too obvious that he was going somewhere special so the normal date outfit wouldn’t do the trick. Plus, they’ve been on dates before; no need to over do it. He sighed dramatically as he fell back onto his bed. This was too much.

[dmsden]

The Theme in My Coffee - Incorporating themes into worldbuilding

Hullo, Gentle Readers. This week’s Question from a Denizen comes to us from an Anonymous source...which is a shame, as they didn’t give me any way to contact them, so I can’t enter them in my Van Richten’s contest. But they’ll win an answer, anyway. They ask, “Hey there! I just started writing my own campaign setting, and I'm having trouble incorporating themes into my worldbuilding. Do you have any tips?”

I absolutely do, Anonymous. I actually wrote about using themes in your worldbuilding waaaaay back in my old Worldbuilding articles, especially #s 1 and 3. If you don’t have time to go digging, however, I can definitely touch on some of those elements here. Always good to revisit things from before.

I like to have some themes in mind from the very beginning, and I had several in mind when I began work on my Shards of the Shattered Pact campaign world. I wanted to tie it around the themes of Broken Trust, Homesickness, and Ruins of the Past. I also wanted to tie it to the new lore that was coming out of 4E’s little sneak peeks we were getting. Even before I fully knew what the campaign’s story was going to be about, or even before I had 4E in hand (to say nothing of 5E, which we play now), I began to build a skeleton out of those themes.

For Broken Trust, I developed the idea of the Conclave of Seven Kingdoms...a loose alliance of nations that bonded together against a common foe one thousand years in the past. This included two human kingdoms, an eladrin kingdom, an elven kingdom, a dwarven kingdom, a halfling “kingdom”, and a goblinoid kingdom. This last choice was party due to Eberron, which had really sold me on the idea that monsters that were traditionally evil didn’t have to be. I did want to be able to use goblins and the others as enemies, however, so the main element of broken trust started there. The goblinoid kingdom had betrayed the others, ending the bloodline of a legendary line of kings in betrayal and death. This shattered the Conclave. One of the human kingdoms had never gotten on well with the dwarves of goblinoids. The elves and eladrin had their own differences, stretching back all the way to when the Drow had come into being. The Seven Kingdoms were destined to fracture, really, and they did so spectacularly.

Broken Trust manifested in other ways in my world’s history and geography. A continent had been literally shattered when a group of allies went to war with each other. Many tieflings, feeling betrayed by the parents that had made the pacts that led to their forms, had turned their backs on the immortal legacy their parents had tried to secure for them. Slavers from the Underdark could come up out of nowhere. It was not a place where trust was easily given any more.

Homesickness might be better defined as Diaspora. Very few races in my world live where they used to live. Orcs had forced the halflings to abandon their shires for swamp land, where they had become bayou-dwelling folk. Hobgoblins had once ruled an empire that nearly spanned a continent before the coming of the Eladrin (themselves in Exile from the Feywild) forced them back. Humans came from across the sea, feeling betrayed by their kings. Dwarves fled out of slavery to build new homes in the mountains of the north. Dragonborn sadly left their ancestral lands after a magical disaster had left them a terrible, haunted desolation. For good or for ill, very few races lived where they’d been born.

Ruins of the Past manifested in various ways. With the Seven Kingdoms fractured, kings largely withdrew into their power centers, often leaving long stretches of land to return to wilderness. Although villages like Seowyn’s Crossing might give fealty to a Baron who in turn gives fealty to a Duke who in turn gives fealty to the King of Summerlund, the truth is that the King is many hundreds of miles away, and a plea for help is unlikely to make it anywhere in time. The ancient Universitas Magesterium, one of the most powerful schools of magic, lies broken underneath a lake that their own magics created, and strangeness sometimes crawls from the waters. Outside of the “points of light” of civilization, the world is strange and wild and often desolate. Ancient builds have fallen back to ruin, and terrible things have taken over those places.

Beyond these modern ruins, there are more ancient ones. Hobgoblin fortifications dot the landscape, ruins left behind when their rule was broken. Ancient halfling, human, and eladrin fortresses are now ruled by orcs who took them in conquest. In places haunted by war, undead soldiers wait to scream their guilt at the living who find evidence of their failures of duty. And, most ancient at all, the ruins of the mysterious Old Ones, possibly the first living race in the world who have long since vanished, dot the landscape, often hiding terrible, magic-mutated monsters and fabulous treasures.

As I create new elements of the setting, I try to see how it might fit into one of my three primary themes. Often, this adds a sad or bittersweet element to the setting, and that suits me fine. Most of my favorite stories are bittersweet ones, such as The Lord of the Rings, Watership Down, and Sandman. I like stories where not everything goes right and where something must be lost in order to make things as right as they can be.

I hope this helps, Anonymous. If anyone ever has a particular theme they’d like me to look at and come up with some ideas for, I’d be happy to take a look. Until next week, may all your 20s be natural.

[julia-highstorms]

Undermount series: The Heir to House Nightbloom

Since we won't have Blades Book 2 until 2022, I'm happy to announce that I have started writing my own Blades AU series: Undermount series

Summary: The story revolves around Luxia (my MC), who has her life turned upside down when both her parents die and she's back to Undermount, to live with her grandfather, Sir Emrys Nightbloom, a respected scholar and private professor to the most influential houses. Now, being an outsider to the elven society, she must learn its culture and traditions and how to fit in (or not). While falling in love with the heir to the Ascendent House, Tyril Starfury.

Here's a sneak peek:

House Nightbloom was fated to great things.

At least, that was what Emrys Nightbloom stated and firmly believed.

Those from that house were known to be great scholars, masters of a greater magic and undying loyalty, with generations and generations of tutors and professors who dedicated their lives to teach lords and ladies of the nobler houses, gaining status and prestige through the centuries.

They were one of the ancient houses, but had lost their importance through the years since the Great War, when Gustaf Nightbloom decided to flee instead of staying and fighting. But as Sir Emrys himself believed, better be an alive coward than a dead hero, because those that were able to move worlds were the alive ones. And that was what the past generations of the House Nightbloom had been doing since their embarrassing display during the fatidical war. They were great strategists and were able to restore some of their previous glory through the last millennia.

They would never be a noble house - unless one of their descendants married a noble house -, but they frequented that social circle closely.

Sir Emrys Nightbloom was its current head and a very respected professor within the elven society, having taught some of the great houses' lords himself. Such as Lord Valir of House Starfury, the current Ascendent House. And his heirs, Young Lord Tyril and Lady Adrina. By this, it was easy to presume how old he was.

But Sir Nightbloom had never been ashamed of his age. In fact, he was very proud of it. He had lived longly and greatly, and was among one of the wisest citizens of Undermount.

And being that wise, he knew that he was doomed. House Nightbloom had no direct heir.

I have written 3 chapters so far and have ideas for two books 👀 but aogjsofndfi will I find time? Will I persevere? Oh welp! Hopefully I'll manage to finish it before Blades 2 debuts 😂

Tagging people who possibly will be interested in this: @hellomynameisdevi @thequeenchoices @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl @soft-for-drake @ohsnapitzlovehacker @melodyofgraves @sitsoncornflake @keviriass @lady-kaya-duskraven @tealtranquiltatter @vanillamaa @my-remedy-is-euphoria @choicesloversstuff @tyrils-star  @lxdy-starfury  @caaliyahxx @choicesarehard @fireycookie @choicesficwriterscreations

(and if you'd like to be tagged, just tell me 🙂)

[bread-elf]

Slice of Life

The future is always unpredictable. The battle to fix the Shadowlands continued on, dreaded events happening that could change the entire fabrication of reality. But even so, life continued to tick on for the living, and there was no helping it. The Glaivefall children continued to grow, and with the world of Azeroth becoming slightly more stable since the shattering of the sky, Jiroki decided to return her family back to their home in the Jade Forest. The hippogryphs back at home were expecting new hatchlings, the health of her sister Estal’anar continued to improve with the help of their family as well as their dear friend Moon’s family who lived on the property, and the Glaivefall establishment continued to grow with some unpredictable circumstances.

How could someone so magnificently gorgeous simply exist without care and not notice of all eyes on him? The way Sharpen Jadescythe’s muscles flexed each time he raised the axe with one hand, only to bring it down and split the piece of wood with far too much ease, a light sheen on his coral colored skin as in his other hand he held his precious kitten named Pocky. Like a glorious sunset along a jungle beach, his body glistened like some god of the untamed wild, dipped in honey and kissed by blushing Elune herself. Words written by him himself, Jiroki having once peeked at his secret writings of his romantic fantasies. Yet the fool failed to see the many eyes watching him as he cut wood for the cooking fire. Anorah’lah watched from the window inside the house, peering carefully while her own new kitten rolled at her feet while clinging to her shoe, but the child didn’t care. Since meeting Sharpen for the first time in the Outlands, Jiroki’s daughter had become infatuated with the man, even shy most times. The child had formed her first love. “Dear oh dear…” As much as Jiroki felt happy for Sharpen being around more often, it certainly raised some complications, given her own very personal relationship with the man. Little Taldreath sat on the carpet in the living room with his play blocks, enjoying making a tower and knocking the blocks over. Jiroki herself had something on the stove as she started making a stock, but came over to see two of her children. But as Anorah didn’t notice her presence and continued to stare at the one she admired, Jiroki found herself peering out the window too. Sharpen wasn’t the only one outside. Jiroki’s other son, Vaeren, played outside with his Cousin Andorus, and Andorus’ friend Jaxon. Whereas Vaeren had only just reached the age of four, Andorus and Jaxon were much older. Andorus has the same white sheen of hair as his mother Moon, amber eyes glowing brightly and brotherly towards the smaller Kaldorei. Jaxon, a human boy with a mess of red hair, didn’t seem to mind playing with the small child as long as Andorus did. They all played with new toys received from last Winter’s Veil, toy swords and shields from their father’s. Jiroki knew Vaeren didn’t much enjoy how to properly handle a sword, but Andorus and Jaxon always played Knight with one another, and that was more than enough reason for Vaeren to pretend he enjoyed sword play just to spend time with the older boys. Though Sharpen wasn’t too far off from them, he was not the one watching them. Instead Moon herself is. But that doesn’t appear to be the case as the elven woman lounges on a lawn chair, wearing summer clothes and a wide brim hat to shield her eyes from the sun. A lemonade in hand, though the children were playing she kept casting her gaze to the burly man chopping up wood, a little grin on her lips as she watches the man’s fluid motions as he not only chops the wood with ease, but also tenderly dotes on the kitten close to his chest. “That whore.” Jiroki leers at her best friend from the window. Thankfully Anorah didn’t know anything in Common, but the words slipped out regardless. But her sights are distracted as she sees movement, glancing away and seeing her eldest daughter Merli with her other aunt. Estal’anar has come a long way from how she used to be. Once frail, mentally unstable, constantly confided in her own space, after some time of healing and nurture she blossomed to be close to the person Jiroki once knew her to be. The ordeals of her past still haunted her, wary of just about everyone that isn’t family. Even now, she kept her head down, walking beside Merli as they carried baskets of vegetables from their gardens to bring to Moon’s house to share. Yet Jiroki couldn’t help noticing that even she was casting glances towards Sharpen! Merli was much more obvious, just staring blatantly towards the man. So distracted as to even trip on a small rock, tumbling forward as her basket of produce flings about everywhere, causing others to look at her in surprise. “He’s pretty popular, isn’t he?” Aztook the demon hunter’s voice hums happily besides Jiroki’s ear, having snuck up on her while she spied on her growing family. Jiroki jumps and yelps, causing the kitten on the ground to be startled as well, but Anorah remains fixated on watching her crush from afar. “I told you not to sneak up on me like that!” Quickly putting up a front, Jiroki lightly swats at Aztook’s arm before moving away, deciding now is as good a time as any to wash some dishes. But Aztook follows on along, stalking his favorite prey with a cheshire grin, eyes missing but aware of every single little movement of hers with his demonic gaze. “Riiight, right, my mistake. It’s just, I couldn’t help but notice you staring at him so much…” A hand touches her shoulder, his hand more leathery than calloused, and claw like nails gently drag along her shoulder and down her arm. He’s testing her, trying to rile a reaction out of her, his favorite pastime. “And?” Jiroki tries to remain unphased, but her brow is furrowing, pursing her lips as she tries to focus. But he has such a powerful presence when he wants to, and it overwhelms her senses. “I actually have eyes, unlike you. I like to make use of them.” “Oh gee! Am I missing out? Maybe I should find some spare eyes to use… Is that also why your daughter has been staring at him for nearly the last hour? I could have sworn you two were having one of those like-mother-like-daughter moments.” That makes her whirl out, leering at her husband with a shocked expression. “Excuse me?! Are you trying to mock me?! … Wait, has she really?” Now glancing towards her daughter, surely it couldn’t have been that long. “It feels like an hour but, well, maybe ten minutes.” Aztook keeps on that mischievous grin of his. “You always pull my heart strings when you’re quick to the offense.” “Ugh.” Jiroki rolls her eyes, but she knew this song and dance. Raising a brow at the man, she starts to reach up to lace her arms around his neck. “I’d much rather pull your heartstrings in a normal way. I bet if I wasn’t mean to you at the beginning you wouldn’t even be paying attention to me right now.” “And what, leave you to carry someone else’s offspring?” His sightless gaze remains fixated on her face, but his hands move to her hips, thumbs lightly caressing the sides of her baby bump of their next child. “I think not! No one could be a Mr. Glaivefall better than me! Well- besides your father… Was he a sort of ‘Mr. Glaivefall’ man? Or was that what your father’s father was called? Or maybe your brother likes to go by Mr. Glaivefall, so it would be confusing if I also called myself Mr. Glaivefall-” “Just shut up.” Jiroki snickers, grinning from ear to ear at her mate’s antics. Aztook’s smile gets more gentle, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. “I want those pretty eyes on me too.” He says, the fel green orbs focused intently on hers. “Don’t you remember? I have eyes on the back of my head. I always have my eyes on you.” “Wait- really?” He pulls back, looking shocked, taking her own flirt too seriously. “Since when? You didn’t do anything when I ate your rice cake yesterday!” “That was YOU?!” Baby number five is on the way!