Tumgik
#wip to deal with a death
nikkywrites · 1 year
Text
Character Introduction: Colin
Tumblr media
Role: Side Character
Personality: Loyal, Stubborn, Passive
Tumblr media
Colin has always loved the wilderness, even before he knew that that love was his magic calling him.
For as long as he can remember, he’s always felt lost. Slanted when everyone else stood tall. He lives everyday feeling like he’s wearing shoes sized just slightly too small, stilting what should be an easy stride, missing something vital.
And then he bumps into a girl who asks what a wood-witch is doing in Dallas and things start to make sense.
As he starts practicing spells, learning about what he is, he becomes her friend. When she leaves, he follows. And when, years later, her ‘research’ leads to her wearing a dead boy’s face with a Soul Keeper’s blade in her hands… he tries to stop her.
15 notes · View notes
thehelplessmortals · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Castor dies.
Tumblr media
448 notes · View notes
siliconforbrains · 2 months
Text
Okay, it's like 10pm on a work night and I haven't had any coffee today so my thoughts are a little scrambled BUT. I WAS THINKING.
(About In Stars and Time of course I'm always thinking about that game)
A couple of years ago, at the height of Steddie -my sister was big into it and recced me some fics okay- I read this fic about Steve dealing with time loops ("The one in which a time loop is fucking exhausting" by badpancake) and there was this specific detail about the epilogue that stuck with me.
It was the idea that, once the time loops were done and over with, people would slowly start to remember bits and pieces of what happened in earlier loops. After being fractured for so long across dozens of timelines and experiences and outcomes, time was finally healing, and broken shards of lost memories would find their way back into people's minds.
And that got me thinking about a post-game what-if scenario where the same happens to the gang as they travel through Vaugarde.
Like they still don't remember everything -just bits and pieces. Experiences so emotionally charged that they found a way to cross the sands of time and reach them again.
The question is, what would those memories be? The first answer that comes to mind is some of Siffrin's deaths, of course. I can't imagine watching your friend get pancake-d by a boulder would be pleasant, nor witnessing them turning their own dagger to themselves. Or offering him a slice of your favorite snack only for him to go into anaphylactic shock in front of your very eyes, for that matter!
But there would be other instances too, wouldn't they? Death is not the only thing that shook them to their core. What about their first death to the King? Or Bonnie's fate at the end of Act 3? What about basking in the blissful feeling of victory against the tormentor of your land only to turn to look at your friend and know something is very, very wrong?
What about fighting through the House with a party of 4 instead of 5, bloodied, confused, staring in the face of the King knowing you're about to die and wondering why your friend left you all when you needed them most?
I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this, but I've been rotating this concept in my head since this morning and thought I'd get it out on here so y'all can suffer with me tehee
72 notes · View notes
i-can-even-burn-salad · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I am so so so so so happy.
The print layout is almost identical to the pdf available on my website, other than that page numbers and margins are adjusted for the double page view.
Sometimes it feels like 2023 went by in a blur and I did nothing – but now I am holding this in my hands, and it's something.
Ebook | WIP Intro
39 notes · View notes
moonasketch · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
some visual development/ideas for a personal story project im working on c': <3
The (short) story is about a character called Monday and their missing friend, Orion. At the start of the story Monday and Orion get separated and Monday gets help from a fox and a bunny they meet at the start of their journey to finding Orion. :)
36 notes · View notes
simplegenius042 · 6 months
Text
Another Late WIP Wednesday and a Late 6-sentence WIP Sunday
Tagged by @adelaidedrubman @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @cassietrn and @inafieldofdaisies for WIP Wednesday and invited by @demigoddessqueens to join in for 6-sentence WIP Sunday.
Rules for the 6-sentence WIP Sunday: Make a new post and share six sentences of an upcoming WIP. Then tag some friends!
Tagging @strangefable @poisonedtruth @voidika @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @chazz-anova @derelictheretic @ec-10 @gaeadene @g0dspeeed @henbased @jillvalentinesday @neverthesameneveranother @deputy-morgan-malone @strafethesesinners @vampireninjabunnies-blog @wrathfulrook @shallow-gravy @a-rose-in-a-garden-of-weeds @snake-in-the-garden @ladyofedens-blog @little-wolf-seed @minilev and @deputyash + anyone else who wants to join.
One WIP for Far Cry The Silver Chronicles and another for Life, Despair & Monsters. Snippets below the cut.
For WIP Wednesday I got more Silva's Hope. Also... some short action! [NOTE: This fic is still under heavy construction, so some things may or may not change in the future]
[TW: Violence, blood and death]
Upon crawling onto the pond bank, Silva took a moment to still herself and breathe, a choice she knew wasn't the most sensible given the circumstances.
She spat out the pond water, the taste vile and cold like the river water. Her head felt heavy, unfocused, not helped by the darkness of the night. Disoriented from the crash but still conscious, still awake, still alive. Were her fellow co-workers so lucky?
Yes... And no.
She remembered her panic at how limp and stagnant their bodies had been, and Joseph, that falsa profeta bastarda, telling Nancy (of all the people she thought would sell her out, she never once suspected the kind elderly woman who had been a second mentor to the junior deputy like the Sheriff) to stand down.
"No one is coming to save you," he had told her. He had told her like it wasn't a fact she already knew. A lesson she hadn't already learned. A sick, stale joke that only his God seems to find funny, to her expense.
The relief she felt when he left, when the others awoke from what she thought would be their final slumber. The selfish gratitude she felt towards Jannah, the relief that she hadn't survived another disaster alone again.
But it didn't last, she reminded herself. Besides maybe the Mariscal, her fellow colleagues; Hudson, Pratt and Whitehorse were likely captured, taken away by these santos. If the Peggies were anything like the congregation back on the Archipiélagos, then the fates that awaited her mentor and recently acquired friends were either conversion or execution, depending on how patient the cult's beloved profeta really was.
She weakly chortled; a preferred substitute, the mirthless laugh to the strangled sob she wanted to let out. A strange sensation that weighed heavy on her chest. And to think I had escaped, she mused to herself, finding no strength to restrain the thoughts and fears, shaking her head with a clenched jaw, To think I had escaped it all. No longer a prisoner, but a free survivor.
Joseph's words came to mind with more force; the way he called onto his obedient servants to begin "the Reaping", to kill all who stood in their way, that a seal had been broken. That the Collapse had begun. It sickened her, how the words of a man (just a man) like Joseph Seed were no different from Father's own.
The major difference she could tell between the two was that Father succeeded his vision, got what he wanted, and Joseph was just a fraud given too much power and trust. He doesn't know anything about the Collapse. She did. She lived through it.
Hadn't I? Had she not played a hand in the destruction of her people, the justification used to bring the Enforcers to the front doors of her Father's most hated enemy with guns and fire?
The Collapse has begun. That's what the falsa profeta said. The Collapse has begun. The words she had never dreamed to hear, nor wished to have lived to witness. The Collapse. A title. A simple title that was used to rule her life with fear. A title that profeta threw around like it held any weight anymore, as if it didn't prove his words, his status, his so-called visions, were all false.
It had to be.
She embedded her gloved hands into the mud on the bank of the pond, shaking as her protected fingers curled around the wet dirt.
It had to be.
She couldn't accept any alternative, not after what she's seen. What she was left to live with.
The crunch of sticks and dry grass crushed under the weight of approaching boots caught her attention, and the distant hollering tipped her off to their source.
The santos were approaching, and she was still kneeling over on the pond bank. One hand clutching mud. The other shifting around, searching, until it wrapped around a pointed rock, twisting it out of the ground.
The voices were getting louder, the boots approaching closer, though decreased in sound, with voices disappearing as the hunting party separated.
She heard two; one each on both sides of her, confirming her targets. She clutched the mud further into her palm, and the rock was breaking off the bank with ease.
"Do you remember my instructions piccolo boa? On what to do when caught?"
Silva dragged the rock closer to herself, still kneeling over, still small and vulnerable. The enemigo's lights shined close.
"Look weak, and keep whatever you can use close and out of sight."
Silva's heart pounded, but she soundlessly took deep breathes, eyes closed as the light to her right shined onto her figure.
"Atta girl. And when they come closer?"
The santos to her right startled at the sight of her hunched down figure, and he called out to his amigo as he approached closer.
"Found her!"
"Aim for the visors..."
Silva opened her eyes as the two peggies attempted to swarm her, swiftly turning and throwing the clump of mud at the peggie to her right, a bald man with a long beard, his pained groans indicated success but his amigo alarmed his amigo.
She turned to her next target, a man with a smaller beard but long hair. He rushed forward, lifting the butt of his rifle at her kneeling form. As he brought the rifle to her head, she dodged, and with her free hand, latched onto the rifle's stock.
Unveiling the pointed rock, an efficient substitute to her dagger, Silva used the momentum to propel herself up, and bring the peggie closer down, his face stretched into horror as the rock closed in.
"...And hit straight for the eyes."
Droplets of warm crimson and clear fluids splattered on her cheek and chin, an unexpected contrast to the clean kills she was used to with the Enforcers. Shaking away the distinction, she returned her focus to the dead man leaning forward.
Letting go of the embedded rock, she clutched the rifle with both hands, and kicked the man's twitching corpse back before turning around, the thud behind her ignored.
Her first target managed to get the mud out of his eyes, blinking rapidly and tearing up with a curled lip. His face dropped once he saw Silva with a steeled face and his amigo's rifle aimed at him.
She tipped her head at him as she flipped off the safety, a final farewell to the panicked man as he fruitlessly struggled with his own rifle.
And here is a 6-sentence (paragraph) piece for Sonya's Push. Hand over the spotlight Jennifer. There is a bigger fish scarier than you and Dicko, and his name's Malvolio:
Now facing Jennifer and Dicko as they approached, she could see the once anonymous champion's suit was a sharp blue covering a black undershirt, supposedly tailored for his short stature. He seemed to be somewhere in his thirties, and had a rather fine face, dark eyes complimenting his dark hair, which was groomed expertly.
Though Jennifer couldn't deny a sense of disappointment upon seeing the anonymous champion with a winning streak of seventeen matches in person; he wasn't an unusual sight from the regular rich bastard who came here, besides his clubbed cane. He looked rather normal. Though she couldn't deny how unusual it was for a man of supposed wealth like Dicko participating with his own Beastie.
Regardless, she was content with keeping up her facade, holding onto Dicko's arm as they approached him, but Dicko had stopped, almost tugging Jennifer back. She looked to the taller man, confusion breaking through when she saw his transfixed face; shocked really, and one filled with recognition as he utters in surprise, "Malvolio?"
Jennifer blinked as she looked between the two men, and saw this "Malvolio's" lips curl up into an open grin, as he proceeded to give a jovial greeting, "Well Jolly Ho, Dicko! I didn't know you owned this arena. Jeez, it's been a while since we last did business together. How long has it been? Four? Six years?"
Dicko's face remained unchanged, though Jennifer knew he was scrutinizing the short man in front of them with a cautious gaze she's rarely seen on him. Dicko subtly motioned the hallway guards to stand down, leaving Malvolio's companions alone with their contained Beastie. Despite his visible apprehension, he answered Malvolio, "Six years."
Malvolio's dark eyes briefly shifted to Jennifer, but they swiftly reconnected with Dicko's gaze, his grin widening, "Six years? And you still did not forget about little old me? Intriguing. I do hope your life has been luxurious and well in our distance. And I must ask; how have you been treating it?"
21 notes · View notes
skitter-kitter · 7 months
Text
Hoopa made other friends over its long, endless lifetime. Some only lived for a few short years, while others lived into old age. The mythical pokémon enjoyed watching those who got to live to be old far more than it had expected. It expected to get bored once they could no longer chase it around, but instead it found itself slowing down for them. The deity hovered around them, showing them glimpses of the wonders it had seen; keeping out the gory details, of course.
But, no matter how much it slowed down or how many atrocities it hid from humanity it always ended the same way.
Either, someone hated Hoopa for existing and punished its friend for it, or its friend grew to hate it. No one wanted to be around a creature who was followed so closely by death. No one wanted to die.
It was not a surprise to Hoopa that Lear had died so young, but that did not mean it would not do everything in its power to reverse it.
26 notes · View notes
compacflt · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
yesterday (06/12) was the anniversary of me watching top gun for the first time so here are some of my favorite personal reviews
i saw tg and tgm in june & didn’t think about tg for two months. i wrote the epilogue for wwgattai on august 10 and THEN rewatched it on the 11th & that’s when i knew there was enough potential to start writing wwgattai for real
a lot can change in a year. :)
49 notes · View notes
danidoesathing · 3 months
Note
😪😡📝 for the art ask game!
😪 a piece that was meant to be short but took on a life of its own
ive got one that im writing now that was originally based on a silly short premise but like. its no longer short and no longer silly. its now two chapters, absorbed another half baked wip i was writing and no one is having a fun time
😡 a paragraph/section that gave me a lot of trouble
the entirety of frankie's 2nd section in the love like ghosts fic. i love her but dear god she is SO hard to write. i had to redo that section like four separate times and had to entirely rewrite the premise twice. it killed me
📝 a line or paragraph i’m really happy with
He ain’t sure how he came across it. He didn’t have any plans on leaving the city tonight. There was a song back home and a girl without a dancing partner he let slip by, for no other reason than his own restlessness. He ain’t sure what he wanted to accomplish from wandering out in the dark, though he rarely has a plan for nights like these. He never sets out to discover something. Just got the urge to get lost on some old road that hasn’t been driven in years. It’s something that takes hold of him sometimes, and only tends to be remedied by indulging the habit. So, yeah, the body is a surprise.
3 notes · View notes
synonymroll648 · 8 months
Text
absolutely evil fic idea! sophitz soulmates au where post-war they reconcile but also find out that fitz won't make it to 100 due to the severity of his shadowflux echoes and the reason sophie kept surviving seemingly impossible odds was because the black swan 'accidentally' made her immortal.
to make things extra cruel: consider how fitz canonically counts on having thousands of years ahead of him to build himself a future he enjoys, and how sophie canonically struggles w/ the idea of living forever due to her human upbringing (plus the canon-compliant possibility of her hearing ten bajillion tales growing up of how immortality is a curse) :D
#i love love love soulmate au's. usually for the fluff. but this. this...#this intrigues me conceptually so much that i think exploring it would be worth the pain#i have way too many wips rn to write this. but#that doesn't mean i can't share it w/ you guys :)#i just keep thinking of how the tables of 'fitz comforting sophie about living forever because he'll be there' will flip#and it could flip in SO many ways#it could be sophie comforting fitz about death being inevitable because she grew up around death#and knows that death can be a well deserved (fairly) happy ending if fate is kind enough and you play your cards right#but it could also be them being so so so openly envious of each other's lifespans#like we could have a screaming match in the dead of night where fitz is like#how the FUCK is it fair that we both have echoes but I'M the only one that's doomed to die young because of them? how the HELL do you have#ANY right to speak on this? on how i should deal w/ having THOUSANDS OF YEARS RIPPED OUT OF MY HANDS?#and sophie's like well i don't know fitz! how the FUCK is it fair that you're the one that gets to have a finish line? how the HELL am i#supposed to be happy about NEVER getting to stop? about ALWAYS having to be the moonlark? about INEVITABLY LOSING EVERYONE I LOVE BECAUSE#THEY'LL BE DEAD?#honestly you could have both. you SHOULD have both. imo. hurt/comfort babyyyyy#also. if you want. you can have this be a thing where the immortal falls in love w/ the same soul again#but fitz never comes back as an elf. always something mortal#also when fitz dies. having a throwback to the search and having one of them go 'fuck time. fuck death. i'll find you again and again'#less 'death cannot do us apart' and more 'death can only separate us temporarily'#also. sophie having to watch fitz deteriorate from the golden boy she knew to barely hanging on to life. and fitz having to deal w/#sophie never changing in any physical way#don't you love feeling sad guys? angsty if you will? /t#sophitz#sophie foster#fitz vacker#kotlc#keeper of the lost cities#kotlc fic idea#sophitz fic idea
3 notes · View notes
redrobin-detective · 2 years
Text
You ever write something and come look at it later and wonder which one of your many issues caused this?
33 notes · View notes
nikkywrites · 1 year
Text
Making headway on the To Deal With A Death rewrite <.<
4 notes · View notes
dragonfoxstar · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Almost done with this piece just have to have them holding hands and continue on shading plus adding finishing details. Characters are my Death-Heads Deal OCs, Ivy and Raynard  <3
6 notes · View notes
multishipper-baby · 1 year
Text
Kinda want to write something about time loops because time loop narratives are fucking awesome but I don't what fandom to write it for. I mean I have a few options but nothing concrete yet.
4 notes · View notes
i-can-even-burn-salad · 3 months
Note
i just finished till death and i absolutely loved it!!! (as expected) <3 i’m still fighting the desire to have it printed and bound on my bookshelf <3
Ahhhhhh, thank you, Anon 🥹💜
I had some Doubts™ lately, because I always feel like I am dodging target audiences, so finding a few people next to me in the middle of this venn diagram between fluff and gore makes me so happy.
I wish there were a way to put it up physically without actually publishing and selling a book 😭
7 notes · View notes
mosscrab · 1 year
Text
can a god experience divine madness
3 notes · View notes