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ren-c-leyn · 2 years

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Happy WBW! First I would like to ask about what other signs magic types in Firewalker give off when the person is upset.:D This is just such a neat idea.

Second, any particular wip on your mind lately? Any new specific worldbuilding facts, maybe from Shackles of time👀?

@writingonesdreams

Hey, Dreams, happy WBW to you too. It's always a lovely day when you stop in ^^

As a note - all of the magic types can kill their mages if they lose control of it too far, so there are death mentions below the cut including burning alive, drowning, ect. Nothing in depth or detailed, but it's there.

I'm going to start with your update because it's partially your fault, and I do mean that affectionately :D

Soooo, I may have had another god/champion combo appear, and it's kind of an interesting one. You remember how I mentioned there might be a God who would pick Merle for the fun of corrupting her oh so noble morals? Yeeeaah, combine that with the lovely description of a space siren in @queerlilchinchin's The Fantastical World of Dreams and I ended up with a new God/Champion combo that's basically a siren goddess and her very bewildered, not at all happy with this situation champion. Their story doesn't really have a good cross section with the other chaotic god/champion duo which means I now have another story in the Forgotten Gods universe I'm probably going to write someday.

So Forgotten Gods is on the brain again, endless gnawing at my brainstem for attention, but I sorely need to buckle down and knock some Shackles of Time chapters out because once the December Book Dragon Challenge begins and people start completing the challenge, I'm going to have 0 time to work on any of my projects and as it is I don't have enough chapters banked up to even get through December, little alone my sure to be packed with art January.

I'm almost done with the rough draft of the final chapter of The Stormy Road Ahead arc in The Shackles of Time, so I'll be sinking my teeth into the second team's first arc soon. Merle, Arlen, and Night will still be the main focus of the series, of course, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't excited to get to play with my depressed elf druid, Drusilla, again <3

Now looping back to the original question you had - Firewalker magic types and their auras.

The auras are not exclusive to anger, pretty much any extreme emotion, sadness, too happy, ect; can do it. Anger is just the most prominent in the story since Valerian has the hardest time reining that particular emotion in. I don't blame him given the circumstances I put him in, and he's not the only mage to lose it because of anger in the story, but still.

There's different levels to each aura, and the stronger the mage the more powerful these effects are and the more dangerous they can be to the mage and the harder than are for that mage to rein in.

Fire - Begins with body temperature rising and the mage feeling their magic flowing without them pulling on it, continues on to heat around the magic user rising. The magic begins to feel like it's burning. Then flammable things around the mage, including clothing, may begin to catch fire. At this point the magic within begins to burn the mage. If they cannot get control, they catch on fire themselves and will likely die.

Water - Begins with the mage feeling like their skin is damp and magic flowing with out them pulling on it, continues to condensation on the skin much like a cold sweat. For some mages this is salty like the ocean and for others it is fresh water, depends on the god their power originated from. The humidity of the air around them then begins to increase and they feel like they've got water running down their throats or filling other parts of their body, this seems to depend on the individual. Continues on to water running off the mage and potentially causing internal damage or drowning. In cases of very powerful mages the area around them may become encased in a bubble of water.

Earth - Begins with mage feeling their magic flowing without them pulling on it and the ground beneath them begins to crack slightly. Continues onto the soil changing depending on the God that original granted the line magic, ranging from sand to rock to just loose soil. Continues onto the terrain beneath the mage changing, also ranges depending on origin of the magic. Uncontrolled magic flow begins causing internal damage. The ground will begin quaking beneath the mage and can tear open the ground beneath the mage, sometimes resulting in injury or death.

Air - Begins with the air around the mage subtly shifting and the mage feeling their magic flowing without them pulling on it. Air movement begins to strengthen and the mage feels something in their breathing change. Air currents grow stronger and more unpredictable, small whirlwinds and the breaking/moving of objects may occur. Progresses to mage having difficulty breathing due to air in lungs being affected and magic running uncontrolled through the body can cause internal harm, wind becomes too strong to move effectively through and in cases of powerful mages can even throw people around. Mage can be harmed by flying objects or lack of air. Ice - Begins with the body temperature dropping and the mage feeling their magic flowing without them pulling on it. Continues onto the temperature of the air around them dropping. Progresses to frost-like ice growth on the mage's skin and clothing. Temperature continues to drop and where the magic flows grows painfully cold. Surrounding area begins to frost. In case of strong mages ice crystals can form around the environment or grow off of them and the air gets so cold it's hard to breath. If magic is not controlled, mage's body temperature will continue to drop to dangerous and even deadly levels.

Lightening - The air around the mage begins to smell like ozone and the mage feels their magic flowing without them pulling on it. Static electricity begin to build up around them. The mage may begin to experience slight muscle spasms or jolts of pain next. Little flashes of electricity begin to dart around the mage's body and may lash out at random things, causing harm to others, start small fires, or harm the mage. The pain and spasms increase and the electricity grows stronger. In cases of powerful mages these may become very strong shocks that can kill, or seriously harm, things that get struck. During a storm, the lightening from the storm will also react to the mage's out of control magic and become more violent. If left unchecked, the mage can suffer great harm or death from the internal damage of the magic or the electricity.

Light - Body temperature rises subtly and the light around them grows brighter, the mage/knight/priest also feels their magic flowing without pulling on it. A light begins to shine behind the eyes next and the light around them grows brighter. Then, the light magic wielder may begin to feel a dull burning ache inside them as they begin to glow. Air temperature continues to rise as does body temperature and light brightness, magic wielder's out of control magic begins to cause internal damage. In particularly powerful mages, particularly flammable objects around them may begin to catch fire and looking at them may cause damage to people's eye sight. If left unchecked, the mage's out of control magic burns them out.

Darkness - Darkness is kind of a unique element in the set. It's the only magic type that doesn't have a direct means of attack or anything that it physically manifests besides shadows and darkness, and therefor how it manifests when the mage is experiencing intense emotion outwardly appears milder, but the out of control magic within is still doing internal harm like all of the other elements.

Begins with the light around the mage dimming slightly and the mage feeling their magic flow without them pulling on it. Continues to a more obvious gloom and the mage begins to feel discomfort as the magic flow begins to run wild. Progressed to a deep darkness and pain as the magic begins to cause internal harm. For particularly powerful mages this darkness can encase a large area. If left unchecked, the darkness continues spreading while the magic continues to eat away at the mage, causing significant harm or death.

And that's all of the magic types and what happens when they let their emotions run amok. It's worth noting that once a mage recognizes that their magic is moving without them pulling on it, which is just how I describe them consciously using their magic source, they usually stop what they're doing immediately and start meditating or finding another way to calm themselves down. Arguments with mages tend to stop when one or both of the parties are showing signs of their magic activating without the mage's consent and are put on hold until it's back under control.

One of the first thing mages are taught when their magic begins to manifest, assuming that they are around a more experienced mage when it happens, is control over their magic flow so they can suppress/gain control of these effects even while upset. Some have an easier time with it than others, though, and every mage has a limit to what they can handle before the magic slips.

As for new and specific world building details - Yes. Yes I do have some.

I have decided that there's a sparkly black Ocean in Forgotten Gods, see the first part about a siren goddess.

And I've been working out the details of Arlen's flow magic and some of the world's history as well as more information about Spirits and how they work in Forgotten Gods, and I've finally pinned down exactly what Cherrenth is.

An interesting thing I've learned is that flow magic can be corrupted. When it's corrupted it messes with flow casters' abilities to control their magic properly. They can call upon it easier, but hanging onto it for too long is very dangerous. You can learn more about this soon, if I'm remembering where you are in the story correctly >;)

Another interesting fact - There's an ancient order of mages in Shackles of Time's history that was dedicated to waging war on fiends, which means that the Mad War was not the first invasion that they fiends have staged through the shadow gates, which implies that they've been fully opened before in the past. Which is a fun world building detail that I've been having lots of fun playing with >;D

I have sadly also learned that there was an entire clan of wood elves that was nearly entirely wiped out by the Mad War, along with the spirits that they had lived alongside, but as an interesting side-tangent of that line of thought I discovered the wood elves have a large degree of cultural differences between the clans that partly depend on region and partly depend on what spirits they lived beside. We'll learn more about that when Drusilla and her team come in.

And that's all that's coming to mind at the moment. I'm sure there's plenty of newer details I have that are just slipping my mind right now.

Thanks for dropping by~! If you have more questions you know where to find me.

I hope you have a lovely day/evening.

#wbw #The Shackles of Time #Forgotten Gods #The Firewalker

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grosskelly · 2 years

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if you're a subscriber you already know about this, but i've got a lil trading card set coming out on neonmob soon! it's a fun little site you can enjoy 100% for free. i had a lot of fun designing some weird guys to collect! link in the comments!

#neonmob #digital #forgotten gods #body horror #eldritch horror #monsters

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laequiem · 2 years

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WORN PAGE LIBRARY (@wornpagelibrary) May BOTM: The Midnight Lie by Marie Rutkoski

The whole of society depended on making the Half Kith as drab as possible, as though forcing them to live in the very center of town, behind an enormous wall (...) would make them forget they were human. The Middling class served the interests of the High Kith, (...) helping to suppress the lower class.

#i made these too small but fuck it #the midnight lie #marie rutkoski #forgotten gods #forgotten gods duology #the winner's trilogy #winner's trilogy #sidnirrim #sapphic book #bookedit #bookblr #discord book club #book club #wpl #worn page library #my edits

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minis21 · 1 year

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Writing Prompt 346

The pantheon is cyclic.

Such is the way of life, mortals need gods, mortals become gods, gods guide the mortals through the world, mortals move on from the gods and the gods get forgotten once more.

Now, the mortals need gods once more and ad nauseam.

There is a new pantheon.

They refused to become forgotten, to leave their power to the next generation of gods. They would rather let the world rot and stagnate than let go of their influence.

It is time, said the old, forgotten gods, for their hands to be felt in the world again.

#writing #writing prompts #writing inspiration #creative writing #writerblr #fantasy #fantasy setting #fantasy prompt #gods #god #forgotten god #forgotten gods

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jeannahas · 2 years

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Servant to a Trickster God

(Partially inspired by elydice)

The hill was dry and dusty, as I took another step forwards. sand, small stones, and long-dried and sun-baked bones crunched beneath my feet as I surveyed the section of the valley before me.

It was a familiar sight to me. How many times had I stood there, in my younger years? Back before the expansion, before the lunar colonies? Before that fated first contact that had led to so many desperate changes? I thought back to those simpler years before regenerative treatments, before sapient AI, before we met the brilliantly colored - if slightly smaller than us - Phylexians.

Time I had spent holding tiny cups of water and gatorade for the annual half-marathon in July. Standing there with my father and brothers, trying to keep up with the mass of runners, watching the sun rise as we waited for the leaders, looking for interesting bones among the wreckage, trash, and dust of that selfsame hill.

We had learned much, over the course of the past many decades, but still - there were things that remained less understood, less precise.

I stopped, bending down to look at a few skulls that dotted the hill. I never understood why so many things died on that hill. Bones of Coyotes and squirrels lay alongside the ruined carcases of small deer and elk, and more than one bird lay among the ruins. A graveyard of natural life, completely driven by it's own whims.

As I walked along the hill, following the old highway that had been the lifeblood of the county, I spotted a lonely skull, bleached by the sun, long abandoned. Canid, with pronounced teeth.

I recognized it. The coyotes had grown less and less frequent with each passing year - the wild animals had begun to form packs to survive the presence of the humans, and the humans had in turn hunted those packs.

I winced. 20$ an ear- my brother had tried multiple times to run one over to collect that bounty.

I squatted down in quiet mourning, setting a hand on the dried bone, closing my eyes as I fell down into the whispers, letting the echoes call back into my mind - fleeting moments, running, biting, cleaning itself under a juniper tree under the light of a moon. Pain in it's leg as it was severed by a trap.

I sighed, patting the bone lightly.

"What do do about you? He's not going to like if I leave you here."

The skull, naturally, said nothing. It sat there. Among all the other bones that decorated the bone hill, innert, patient as only the dead can be.

I tapped my chin. "Well... I don't know if he'll like this or hate this... We're kind of re-writing a lot of rules given that we've forgotten a lot of the old taboos."

I glanced at the empty leather bag I had gotten the feeling to bring along. It seemed to be about the right size...

I gently lifted the skull, and set it as safely as I could inside the sack, next to the holo-projector that my family would sometimes call on. I had shut it off, but it was still nice to have it close.

I stood then, checking my mental map. I keep walking till I began to enter among buildings, passing an abandoned KOA that was home to the only swimming pool I'd been able to access for most of my childhood, looking down at the bare concrete, remembering fondly moments with pool noodles, splashing and spraying water at my brothers, staring up at the sky during summer to make sure that thunderclouds didn't form and bear down upon us. It had been close a couple of times - but we'd always made a point to be out of the water long before the storm arrived. The place was largely a ghost town now. I was only still alive thanks to, well, the being I went to meet now - and a dash of arcane science derived from re-verse engineered aline tech - and the friends and people I had known who had lived here were...gone. In a few ways. Scattered to the winds. Living in new cities. Dead. In many cases. Wars, old age, disease... I passed the childhood homes of old friends, now run down and decrepit, and I plotted my way across remnants of asphalt streets that led to the massive red stone that stood a good three stories tall, jutting randomly from pale sandstone as if placed there. The Red Rock had been one of the constants of the valley, as well as Temple Rock, that stood just a short distance away. Relatively. A mile or so.

I had a specific destination in mind today - a place of borders, of transitions - a place where I had very nearly died, and stumbled upon something truly unexpected.

There were whispers, now, about the "old gods." Of people with strange gifts, of strange things happening, people disappearing, strange cults people hadn't seen for thousands of years popping up again at random. Most didn't believe them. Why would you when extraterrestrial beings taught you science from beyond the stars, and tried to find a place for you in their massive federation? I however, knew better. I had been forced to know better. He had given me no choice.

I followed the rock until the smooth exterior suddenly fell back into a thin slot - about the width of three people standing next to each other, that led up into a canyon. One of my first dates. My first death.

My mouth quirked up here. Ah, how fate can be a strange tutor.

I began to walk along the sandy bottom, long since dried up, but I knew the monsoon season wasn't far away, and it would be a simple thing for a drizzle to turn this entire canyon into a mess of mud and water, for the bright afternoon light to be replaced with the overbearing dim of a desert thunderstorm. Too shallow to be truly life-threatening, but hazardous to be sure. I climbed, searching for the meeting place, a sandy bar about half way up where I had the feeling I needed to go.

I head it again - a little louder, the laughing on the wind, a faint echo of a tinny howl. I suppose it could be called a howl - it was what we called it there, the sounds of the Coyotes. I was getting close now, and the needs for speed and caution clashed in my brain, as I tried to protect the leather bag that held the coyote's skull, keeping it from banging against rocks as I ascended a ledge that had been narrow in my youth many years distant.

The strange howling laughter grew louder as I climbed, and I now moved with purpose, almost launching myself up, Nearly stumbling off of the cliff, the skull spilling out of my bag and thudding onto the sand of the ledge, I righted myself, scrambling on hands and knees away from the edge, pausing for a moment to catch my breath, chest heaving as I leaned on my knees after that particular ledge.

I looked up and nearly toppled off the edge, as a mouth full of canid fangs waited immediately in front of me.

The ghostly laugh echoed in my mind again, and I watched as the shadow after-image of the animal danced around the space, seeming to be in one place, then another, shifting and changing, in size, nature, intensity, health, transparency, and every other metric. before "settling" more or less in one place, still flickering, as if my eyes were playing tricks on me. It's head was oddly translucent, seeming to be there. and not, and in those moments, I could see the skull at it's center, the skull of the long-dead coyote.

I bowed my head, cautious, but still elated to actually see him again - my patron, my tutor of sorts, more real than I had ever envisioned, despite our many conversations, the many gifts he had shown and given me.

Have you come to see another trick?

"You know that when we meet, this is my purpose, Coyote."

The strange, etherial coyote seemed to pick at a tooth with a claw, before dancing away again in an impossible contortion of muscle and imagery, before pacing around me.

You always watch for our tricks - listen to the stones - listen to the lessons.

"You always have more to share - what else am I to do but try to understand?"

Coyote laughed again, and I still didn't know if the sound unsettled or comforted me, even after all of these years.

You're people have built more sky-ships, they leave this world.

I nodded. "They have. "

Will you leave this world? Travel to new worlds?

"I don't know if I can." I said simply. "It doesn't seem to be my lot in life to leave and travel for the stars - besides, aren't your kind tied deeply to our perceptions? To the places we have tied you to, the locations of importance?"

I thought of the canyon. Not this one, the canyon of the cursed, the people this fun-loving creature had turned to stone in a violent fit of rage and pain. Our próximo y to that place was the main reason he could manifest like this to me, and actually manipulate the skull he now used as a head- and it was also the reason I had head about him as a child, had known his name, had known his domains.

Coyote laughed again, before snarling as if facing some beast.

formed by mind of man - given power - able to influence...yes....beleif....your beleif...... we depend on this. All gods do, from the small to the great.

I sat down, as was our custom when we spoke, doing my best to keep my footprints obscured, to prevent Coyote from doing something to me while we discussed. He had...set precedents, during previous visits. He taught me the importance of things people left behind, ways your could mess with someone who drew a line in the dirt, who left their name on a wall. It only took once of waking up four hours later under a moonlit sky with no bearing on my location to be more diligant about where and how I stepped - and how I obscured my footprints.

"What would it take for your to leave this place? You like to wander, would you not like to wander the stars as well?"

I would speak to the god of ravens, Coyote began And he would not tell me - to the great protector I spoke again, and he would not tell me. To the invader gods of your ancestors I spoke, and they did not know, that which lied beyond the stars. They knew their children - and those who called themselves their children, and that alone was their domain.

I blinked.

"Uh huh."

Coyote sat, and waited. I blinked, he was sitting next to me, his golden eyes locked on my own.

We go where our children - where our prophets, go.

I paused. Never once had this creature referred to me as anything other than it's student.

"Are the children of Coyote many?"

They are some. They are fewer than they were. I am now weaker than many - but stronger than those who have been largely forgotten. I am remembered still - I am revered still - I am feared still.

I swallowed. I knew why. I had spoken to the ghosts inside the stones of that canyon - had heard the agonized cries of hundreds of people who had offended the creature who now sat seemingly calmly beside me. I never could ask what their offense had been. They never told me. Their minds were too far gone for that, shattered and splintered as stones broke off with time and fell into the canyon, to be washed away with the monsoon rains, and swept down into the barely -living town below.

Why had Coyote told me this? What did he want?

"What do you mean you spoke to the god of Ravens? Do you mean Raven, your brother?"

Coyote laughed again, and flickered, walking sideways on the wall, then bounding across the sand, kicking it up where he passed.

He sees that which will be - he alters that which will be, He is not raven, he speaks truths which must be.

I waited. Coyote continued after licking his behind.

All the speaker of ravens would say, was that I am bound to my children - and my children are free.

I frowned, glancing down at my bag, at the holo-projector. I thought of the indigenous peoples of this continent, how they had been enslaved, but their spirits, the projection of their collective souls, had been weakened over generations, unable to help or defend them from their enemies in a way that mattered.

"You're going to ask me to do something I won't like, aren't you." I stated it, I could see it.

I saw the mirth in his eyes, and I groaned internally.

Five weeks later, with a different name and wearing a different face, I stepped aboard the Phylaxian starship 'T'klalo'. We were leaving - Coyote said he wanted to visit mars, said that "Red Stone was familiar". I brought a few things - a tuft of fur. That skull of a coyote I found on the bone-hill outside the old town I had called home. One of the ghost- rocks from that canyon, full of people he had cursed. A few scraps of a former life as I breathed oddly stale air, surrounded by wealthy people and strange, violet-skinned and vaguely humanoid aliens with pronounced spines we had learned were venomous.

There were several steps to this plan. Make it to the Red Planet. Find a suitable place the Terraforming had already finished with - build a shrine as best as I could. In part to Coyote, to become his first place of Power, his first tether. But also...to me. My family. I had paintings to leave on walls, memories to leave behind. Most had passed on - there were few of us lef.

That would anchor him to that world, be Coyote's first step, the first great projection of the subconscious of the human existence to wander out into the wider universe along side us, actively, alongside one of their representatives, able to access their power. He felt that the other shamans who still venerated and called upon him would be able to "Hold the fort and keep the link active" back on earth. He planned on bringing all kinds of gossip.

Coyote had mischief to wreak, and how he had three entire species to wreak it upon.

Through me.

I let myself grin -

Just a little.

I already knew from experience, that as hard as this was going to be,

It was also going to be immensely fun.

#old gods #forgotten gods #coyote #hfy #story #storytime #desert #hometown

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parsley-sage-rosemary-n-thyme · 2 years

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July for Loki using 30 Days of Deity Devotion prompts, Day 28 • Something you wish you knew about this deity but don’t currently

Not something that involves him directly: I hope I get to know his children Narfi and Váli better, in time. I’ve had a couple of distant contacts in the past, but I felt they were kinda shy, more afraid than I was, though curious and kinda surprised by the “visit”. Their story is indescribably painful and sad, so it’s no wonder they tend to hide a bit.

“Now Loki was taken truceless, and was brought with them into a certain cave. Thereupon they took three flat stones, and set them on edge and drilled a hole in each stone. Then were taken Loki's sons, Váli and Nari or Narfi; the Æsir changed Váli into the form of a wolf, and he tore asunder Narfi his brother. And the Æsir took his entrails and bound Loki with them over the three stones: one stands under his shoulders, the second under his loins, the third under his boughs; and those bonds were turned to iron. Then Skaði took a venomous serpent and fastened it up over him, so that the venom should drip from the serpent into his face. But Sigyn, his wife, stands near him and holds a basin under the venom-drops; and when the basin is full, she goes and pours out the venom, but in the meantime the venom drips into his face. Then he writhes against it with such force that all the earth trembles: ye call that ‘earthquakes’. There he lies in bonds till the Weird of the Gods." {{Gylfaginning, from The Prose Edda by Snorri Sturluson, transl. by Arthur Gilchrist Brodeur}}

My heart longs to celebrate these forgotten children as they deserve. As the rightful gods they are.

Art: The Bedtime Tale by Hellanim on DeviantArt

#loki #30 days of deity devotion #july for loki #sigyn #narfi #vali #ragnarok #lost children #forgotten gods #be still my heart #i didn't need this #fuck this shit i'm out

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winters-tales · 3 months

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Remnant

A remnant. Something the Wild Hunt forgot, perhaps? A shadow of a forgotten deity, moving through ghosts of vast forests, barely seen. Sometimes it’s accompanied by two great Wolves – or are they Hounds? – and together they prowl the landscape. I saw them. – Once, I was hunted; desperate to outrun a violent lover I plunged headlong into the tiny patch of woodlands at the end of my street and…

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#Fiction #forgotten gods #monsters #short story #Writing

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babydarkstar · 2 months

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honestly no wonder harrow forced ianthe to lobotomize her so she could save gideon. listen…LISTEN…if i was a secret-war-crime cult nunlet princess worshipped by my entire planet and the only person that (barely) kept me in check was my childhood nemesis—a butch a year older than me, towering over me in stature and physical prowess, and so hot it made my teeth hurt from how hard my jaw clenched in her presence, who wielded a two-handed seven-foot sword and had irritatingly huge biceps and told very lewd stupid jokes and also learned how to wield an entirely new weapon and be my bodyguard with startling accuracy in three months—only to have us finally learn to trust each other because we got invited to a magic murder mystery and then before the bubble burst i spilled the worst secret about myself that i was born because my parents murdered an entire generation and tried to Kill Her along with them and she just wouldnt die, and i told her this expecting a swift death i believed i deserved, only for her to fucking cradle me in her big butch arms and kiss me on my forehead with her soft butch mouth and just. forgive me for a shameful weight ive carried my entire life and then MAKE AN ACTUAL NECRO/CAV VOW with me despite every evil thing i have done to her……to have her tell me, in the end, bleeding and broken after putting up the most beautiful and glorious fight of her life, that she understands purpose and she understands duty and she knows loyalty more fiercely than ever now, that she knows who she is to me, that there is no her without me….to have her backed into a corner and make the ultimate sacrifice…..for me…..to recite scriptural wedding vows of eternity to me in her last wisps of soul-consciousness…..if i thought there was even a snowflake’s chance in the pyre that i could save her by turning myself into her very own locked tomb, i’d be begging ianthe tridentweirdius to crack my skull open and turn me to mush too, goddamn. i understand you harrowhark girl you don’t have to explain a thing to me. god said you couldn’t undo the lyctor’s bond bc it’d kill you. you told god and his angels that not even a lyctor’s bond could outshine the power of female spite and lesbianism and they didn’t listen. they didn’t believe you. but i heard you loud and clear and i was 17 and hormonal and hopelessly romantic not too long ago unlike those fucking dinosaurs and i’m saying it’s valid it’s what i would have done and really everyone should be thanking you for not being worse and more wretched about it, all things considered

#i think about gideon nav every day #she makes me want to eat drywall #shes so jesus shes so her own thing shes so god and savior It Is Finished divinity of love and sacrifice #honestly so much of harrow is so so relatable to me shes so real for everything she does #her little griddlehark meetcute au her little divine highness au #ive already waxed poetic about the harrow nova au #sorry to keep waxing poetic about this but i really am rotted about them #like im going insane. tamsyn muir when i get you tamsyn when i catch you #griddlehark #tlt spoilers #harrowhark nonagesimus #i am you as you are me we are one and two and two and one #i cannot conceive of a universe without you.#should i forget you let my right hand also be forgotten; add more also. if aught but death part me and thee.#I FELL INTO THE WATER AND NOW IM FREE

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