#wren writes crow

[sentientsky]

When she first Fell, the sky had been all embers, all vicious touch. They’d felt nothing but the bite of flames and gore and the sulphuric acid of a mother’s love turned corrosive. Crowley had burned—heavenly bone, muscle, flesh, the chemical antiseptic of the ether stripping away to bare nerve tissue.

In the eternities since, they’d held their breath, kept herself small. They’d learned to amputate the desire that settled in the tips of her fingertips and in the scarlet ends of their hair. She—alone, ever alone—had dragged herself from the brimstone and out of the bonfire. She’d taught herself to exist in the jaws of an unmuzzled universe, under stars that no longer called their name. Now the sky is blue, and the bookshop burns. The bookshop burns and Crowley’s heart is in her throat, eating its way out of their body. The bookshop burns and yet their angel must be fine. (He has to be fine because the world still spins on its axis and the sea hasn’t swallowed her whole. And if breath still lives in her body, and the universe has yet to collapse in on itself, then their angel has to be fine). But something coils deep in her belly: an oil-slick, a poisonous berry. They bite their lip a brackish silver, the taste of ichor rotten in her mouth.

As though in a trance, she presses forward, and the frantic thrash of panic in her chest forces the double doors wide without so much as a thought. The interior of the shop is all orange-red teeth and flaming claws, tearing into bookshelves and loveseats and oh. Oh, the two of them had just been sitting there not three days ago. (Crowley had tried so hard to stay on her side of the room, to keep her fingertips from brushing the edge of Aziraphale’s as they passed silver-stemmed goblets between them. Skin to skin, breath to body—the indirect touch of their mouths. The passive desperation of six thousand years of want left fermenting under their skin).  

They call for him, heat searing her lungs. It comes out ragged and desperate and too late (always too late). 

Heat knifes clean through her now—a gutting sensation, a disembowelment in the middle of an already-burning funeral pyre. For as long as they had been on Earth together, she’d always been able to sense their angel from anywhere in the world—a steady, beating heart of a presence. An inevitable gravity that wrapped itself around her arms and tugged her forward. It had been axiomatic, a fundamental truth of how the universe functioned: a hand extended always finds purchase. A heart in motion remains in motion. 

So, in a room choked with smoke and two hundred years of memories, she reaches out, expanding the edges of her consciousness, pressing her mind into the outer reaches of the bookshop and Soho and the whole, cluttered universe. She searches for a pulse. And then something within her is breaking. Something is shaking apart in the depths of Crowley’s being—a star turned supernova turned withering, all-consuming black hole. No heartbeat, no flickering warmth, no pull in the periphery of her awareness. The corpse of gravity turns to dust in the corner of the room. 

And she knows—knows with the unflinching inevitability of too many questions, of an ink-winged angel falling from grace—that Aziraphale is gone. Outside, the sky remains blue. The world stays upright. And the bookshop still burns.

(thank u to the incredibly talented @actual-changeling for helping me fix the first part of the fourth paragraph)

#too tired to keep working on this and also forgor to take my adhd meds today so here ya go. kind of hate parts of this but wtv lol #i'm rly normal about the bookshop fire. i totally don't think about it all the time (<- lying through gritted teeth) #also giving characters your pronouns is rly fun btw. she/they crowley my most adored <3 #good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #ineffable lovers #ineffable wives #gomens #wren writes crow #david tennant #tw: fire #good omens ficlet #gomens fanfiction #good omens fic #long post #tw: childhood trauma #<- just in case #good omens angst #Crowley angst #az fell and co

[inevitable-pretty-chaos]

So... Wren has been tired lately because we have choir rehearsals every day and it's hard for them to form their thoughts and write with others after school. It's just like... Wren's brain isn't letting fem communicate and it deletes most of feir thoughts. So flame has problems with talking until flame rests. And the rest can last even two hours. It's really annoying.

~Xavery

#I understand that this way Wren's brain forces time to get rest but WHYYY #It's so annoying ah #Yes I asked crow if I can write it #~xav #we need a tag for our shitpost

[crocwork-clockodile]

Okay I’ve just had a thought about a story, and I think it could work in my Beatrix the Crow world (or a fanfic of Mercedes Lackey’s Heralds of Valdemar but I think I’d rather keep this one to myself) so here’s the premise:

As Beatrix was Chosen by Ailyah, sometimes the other three goddesses Choose a human to be theirs, too. This time, the goddess choosing a human is Phylla the Maiden, goddess of children, travel, divination, the arts, and spring. She expects that Wren, the Journeyman weaver fresh out of their apprenticeship and about to interview to join the local Weavers Guild, will be honoured to have been Chosen and grateful to serve her as her instrument. But they aren’t. They look like they’re about to have an anxiety attack.

“My life was just coming together,” they whimper. “Everything was just about to start.”

Basically, Wren is a pretty darn good weaver -- they’ve got tapestries down, they can knit and crochet like nobody’s business, they can even make baskets and hats out of straw! They love weaving, and they’re really excited about starting at the Guild. But Phylla decides that she’d rather have them serve her as her oracle, her dream-weaver. Being the Maiden goddess, divination and “looking to the future,” so to speak, are part of her domain, as well as the arts, which includes weaving. Wren had always tried to mind the Four Goddesses, but it was customary for artists to pray to Phylla more, and their mother had given them a medallion of Phylla (with her sacred ruby-throated hummingbird) when they first started their weaving apprenticeship. But they certainly weren’t clergy material like Beatrix, they hadn’t grown up with their goddess at the forefront of their mind all the time, they had a life! They want to live it! They do not want to suddenly upend the whole thing and do something only tangentially related to that! So they want Phylla to pick someone else, please.

But deities are stubborn, and will not suffer the embarrassment of implying that they had Chosen wrong. So she sticks around. I haven’t yet decided if this will be another buddy comedy type thing, or more angsty and about Defying Fate and stuff.

#my writing #Beatrix the Crow #do i just like writing gods as pushy annoyances? is that what this is? #is there anyone in this kingdom who actually LIKES their goddesses?? #'nobody who knows them personally' say Bea and Wren lmao

[inawearyworld]

free if you truly wish to be: chapter v

the power of a found family heist saves the day (six of crows who??) (god these summaries have become rather unhinged over the course of this fic huh)

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.3k

just wanted to say thank you to all you lovely people who've read and loved this fic! please lmk what you think, like reblog yadda yadda yadda. i'm euphrasiepontmercy on ao3 if you want to see any more of my near-embarrassingly escapist writing :) there will certainly be more wren coming in the form of playlists, pinterest boards, drawings, etc

so much love <3

part four fic masterlist

The next day, for half of a moment upon awakening, she thought the whole past month had been a dream. That she’d go on living in her unpierced golden cage, that there was nothing revealed and nothing to reveal, that things could be fine for a little while longer.

Then she heard the blaring vocal warmups of the comedian who lived down the hall.

…Okay, then.

It’s real.

She stayed up in Piper’s room, hoping to escape notice from the owners of the establishment, whom she’d never seen but hated due to their imprisonment of her friends. She’d warned them all the previous night that the Chocolate Cartel had seemed about to propose a surely sinister deal to Wonka-regrettably all but Noodle, who was asleep, and who she thought would probably take the hit the hardest, whatever hit that might be.

She wasn’t sure where to go from here.

Willy had wound up under the thumb of men who would gladly destroy him, the wash crew was nowhere near the freedom they deserved, and she herself was disgraced and thrown out by the only practical lifeline she’d had for two years, the man she’d thought she’d loved.

She realized, though, that the chain of actions that led to finally standing up to Felix was the first thing she’d done in two years that she didn’t regret.

That new sense of assurance, though, wouldn’t put any food on her family’s table.

Or her own.

And still, the thrumming in the back of her heart took the form of olive eyes, soft curls, and chocolate-dot freckles. How much danger was he in? Had he really lost all hope? 

Was he even alive?

The only venture she’d made that morning was a careful one to Lottie’s room; the telephonist had snuck her a bit of gruel and told her she could borrow some of her clothes for the day. When she got back to Piper’s, she heard a large clank against the wall, and opened the window to investigate.

She was met with those same olive eyes, accompanied by a tired but teasing smile.

“We have really got to stop meeting like this.”

Relief flooded her so thoroughly that every rational thought momentarily disappeared, and suddenly Wren realized that she was kissing him.

And that he was kissing her back.

And that he was very precariously perched on a very tall ladder.

“I, ah…”

She trailed off, struck speechless by the haze in his expression that could be described in no way but adoring.

“You’re alive,” she breathed. “You’re here.”

“So are you.”

“And you feel the same way?”

“Very much so.”

Apparently unable to form any longer sentences, they fell into shaking, half-disbelieving laughter.

“Wrap it up, Romeo, a person can only keep this steady for so long,” came Piper’s voice from below, and Willy laughed again.

“Alright, I-well.”

“Yeah?”

She watched him run through the events of the past hours in his mind as he tried to sum it up, and he quickly shook his head.

“Come on down, we’ll all explain what happened. Then we need your help to rescue Noodle.”

~

And so they did. Once the whole crew had been informed of all that had happened, they planned and began to carry out their heist, and Wren-while still fully aware of the danger-allowed part of herself to be thrilled at finally having adventures with a found, created family like she’d read about all her life.

There were a few variables, of course-there was a plan for if Willy and Noodle were caught by the Cartel and a plan for if they weren’t, which, of course, they were. Wren flitted through various windows enough to throw a surely-still-reeling Felix slightly off his game, enough that he’d gladly drown his thoughts in the planted Hoverchocs. She also misdirected those who somehow weren’t distracted by the giraffe, allowing the Oompa-Loompa to enter the cathedral and do his part.

What she wasn’t expecting to do was help him to rescue the pair from death by chocolate.

She’d started to make her way out of the cathedral when she heard a shout of “thank you, little orange man!” from under the ground. Puzzled, she’d looked down to see a chocolate-drenched Noodle and Willy gasping for breath under a circle of glass and flooring as the brown liquid receded. She startled, then quickly came to her wits in time to break the surface and pull each of them through, all three falling into each other’s arms.

“What-”

“Oh, God-”

“What on earth-”

“Thanks, Wren-”

“What happened?”

“The plan,” Willy said, pausing to clear his throat of chocolate, “ran into a few setbacks.”

“I can see that.”

“But,” and here he reached into his vest to produce a large and somewhat soaked envelope, “I brought you this, from the vault.”

Wren opened it carefully to see that its contents were luckily mostly untouched by chocolate. Half of them she recognized as what she’d sent to her family, the things that Felix had withheld, but the rest of the envelopes were graced with her mom’s handwriting.

She’d thought she’d cried more in the past days than ever before, but apparently there were still plenty of tears left, and they all threatened to break loose upon that sight.

They’ve been writing to me all this time.

It was devastating and hopeful all at once. Her husband had spent two years keeping her from contacting her family and keeping them from the reassurance that she cared, but now that she had the letters, she could finally start to make things right.

Also in the massive envelope was a shinier letter, addressed to her from the city’s opera house, stating that a new artistic director had been hired: one who didn’t live in fear of the Cartel, had programmed Romeo et Juliette for the upcoming season, and wished nothing more than for Madame Fickelgruber to play the second title role. Not because of her association, not her relative fame, but her.

She hurriedly looked at the postage date; it wasn’t too late for her to write back and accept.

It’s not too late.

The thought, and its application to just about everything, filled her with light.

She didn’t know why Felix had kept all of this instead of throwing it out; possibly to feed his own ego, to know that his wife was in demand but he was the one that had her. Whatever it was, Willy had found the truth and held it even when he’d thought all was lost, and given it to her the moment he’d had the chance.

“And we found out why Slugworth was acting so weird,” Noodle said excitedly, still catching her breath. “We’re related, if you can believe it-but my parents really did care-and my mom, we-we found her!”

“Oh, Noodle, that’s wonderful,” she gasped, pulling the girl into a hug.

“Yeah, Willy managed to find her name in the ledger-but even after that, he kept looking around the vault until he found that envelope. Said it was for you-that we’d find your family, too.”

Tears brimmed in Wren’s eyes as she nodded to the girl with a smile of sweet solidarity. She then looked over to meet Willy’s gaze, more grateful than she’d ever been, and saw that he’d been watching her with a compassionate blend of sympathy and shared hope.

“Thank you,” she breathed, and kissed him again, heedless of the mess. “I know this will come as no surprise, but-”

“I taste like chocolate?”

“I could get used to it.”

“Okay, WE GET IT,” came Noodle’s laugh, “you like each other, it finally happened, hallelujah. Now-look!”

They all turned to the door to see the unmistakable silhouettes of the Cartel, and Willy grinned. It was time for the final phase of their plan.

The three misfits helped each other off the ground and made their way to the cathedral’s entrance, just in time to hear Prodnose’s “in which they died” followed by the men’s laughter.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

All heads turned at his voice, and Wren grinned to see all three chocolatiers pale at the sight of them.

“Wonka!” shouted Slugworth.

“Florence,” formed Fickelgruber.

“What?” piped Prodnose.

“Officer, would you kindly take a look at this?”

Willy handed the ledger he’d held to Officer Affable, and Noodle smiled as she stepped forward.

“It details every single illegal payment these men have ever made. Thousands of them.”

“Affable, don’t listen to her. She’s lying,” the Chief said, but Affable had already opened the ledger.

“Well, of course she is,” said Slugworth, his clear nervousness betraying him. Wren smirked and looked back to Affable.

“She’s not, sir. She’s absolutely right, it’s…incredible.”

The Chief blinked, then tried as he might to take back control.

“Oh. Well. Then it sounds like a case for the Chief of Police. Give it to me, Affable, I’ll take it from here.”

“I can’t do that, I’m afraid, sir.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because your name’s written down here, sir. A lot. Gentlemen, you’re under arrest,” he said, addressing the Cartel with the latter statement.

Slugworth nodded slightly, his eyes widening, and barely turned to his colleagues when he spoke to them.

“Run.”

And run they did, but they didn’t get far. Gasps went up in the crowd as the Chocolate Cartel took to the air once again, and the other trio strolled down to the base of the fountain.

“Wha-what’s happening,” Slugworth cried, “why are we airborne?”

“You didn’t eat any of those chocolates, did you, Mr. Slugworth?” Willy asked, knowing full well that he’d won.

God, certainty looked good on him.

“Why?”

“Because they’re Hoverchocs! Delayed action. But extra strong.”

“Florence!-” Felix called, the adrenaline of flight having pitched his voice up nearly an octave as he grabbed onto Prodnose’s leg with one hand and reached to her with the other. “Just forget it all, my pet, I’ll forgive you in time, don’t worry, we’ll get rid of him again and all will be well-”

He always was one for the dramatics.

And that’s something I can easily match.

She looked straight at him, made a show of removing her wedding ring, held it aloft until it glinted in the sun, and let it go, allowing it to tumble through the air and land directly on the edge of a convenient storm drain.

Felix let out a strangled gasp, his eyes not on her but rather trailing the expensive ring as it fell. From his vantage point, it was gone forever in that drain, and she was happy to let him believe that; she’d pick it up later and send it to her family.

Though, perhaps, with her dream off to a real start, she’d finally be able to make her own way in the world and help to support her family on her own accord.

That thought was sweeter than any amount of candy.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you, Wonka?” Slugworth was saying. He went on to rattle off assurances on how the Cartel could still defeat him, a frantic gloat of their societal power over him, but Wren barely heard it; she was becoming progressively more distracted by Willy’s slight and slowly growing smirk.

“I wish I’d thought of that.”

Then, with something close to darkness, he looked up at them through the chocolate that framed his eyelashes, and Wren thought for a moment that she might faint.

Noodle gave her signal, the ground started to rattle, and Wren’s heart beat faster and faster.

No going back now.

She took a last look at Felix, feeling strangely sorry for him despite herself. In another world, perhaps, he could have been given the space to regard his humble past without shame, could have used it to become a more compassionate person.

Then she reminded herself that, in this world, he had tried to kill two people and had possibly already killed many more, spent his life prioritizing appearance over literally anything else, lied to her countless times, and allowed his chocolate monopoly to uphold an elitist society.

And this world was the one she lived in.

And this world was the one in which the frozen fountain burst with chocolate, rocketing the three men who’d clung to it up and out until they were sailing through the sky.

“Don’t worry, gentlemen!” Willy was calling to them. “You’ll come down eventually, I think. Probably.”

He then turned to her and whispered, “they will.” Through all of this, he still refused to completely harm anyone. The bare minimum, perhaps, but more compassion than the Cartel would have faced opposite any other foe. She smiled and squeezed his hand in silent thanks.

With that, he threw a few ingredients into the chocolate fountain, causing it to sparkle as it never had before, and invited the crowd to enjoy.

As the wash crew came together in relief and celebration, Wren realized that the teasing phrase she’d spoken earlier had more meaning than she’d originally known.

She could indeed get used to this.

~

Not too much of a time later, that same group stood in that same town square on those same cathedral steps, but there was something different in the air.

The Cartel had indeed come safely down from the skies after a few hours on that fateful day, and had promptly been arrested by the newly appointed and much more just Chief Affable of Police. There was more color in the town, more music; everything had seemed a bit lighter, or maybe that was just how it felt to be genuinely living in love.

Because now, Wren Matterson was able to write back and forth with her family again. Now, she was in rehearsals for a role she adored. Now, she was coming into a state of self-empowerment unlike anything she’d ever known. Now, she spent time not perched restless on a fainting couch, but laughing with and learning from a better group of friends than she ever could have imagined, and had even worked together to reunite one of them with her own mom, which they were just about to do.

And right now, in this very moment, Willy Wonka, with tears of grateful closure in his eyes, carefully broke apart his mother’s last chocolate bar, handing a piece of it to each of these dear, dear friends. He then looked to Wren with an expression she was still bowled over by every time, and reached into his pocket.

With a soft but sparkling smile, he opened his hand to reveal an emerald-wrapped, heart-shaped almond milk chocolate.

So, no, Wren Matterson was no longer fine. She was so much better than fine.

She was free.

#fiytwtb #wonka 2023 #wonka #wonka movie #willy wonka x reader #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet fic #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet #wonka fanfic #wonka fanfiction #timothée chalamet x reader

[sillylotrpolls]

(Unnecessarily complicated reason for poll below poll)

So, a prominent character in the Silmarillion is Lúthien. She is the precious only daughter of a powerful elf king and a demi-goddess, and she's very beautiful and good at dancing and sings like a bird and is 100% Tolkien's insert character for his wife (awww). She is also called Tinúviel, which means Nightingale.

Later, when Aragorn first meets Arwen, he calls her Tinúviel in reference to a famous song about Lúthien's beauty and grace. Arwen is all, lol, fun fact, that's my great-great-grandma you're talking about, makes sense. (She kindly does not mention that Lúthien is also Aragorn's ancestor if you go back far enough.) So if you haven't read the Silm (sensible of you), you can just picture Arwen when answering this poll.

Now, hypothetically, someone might be trying to write a fanfiction in which Legolas is compared to Lúthien for assorted reasons (mostly because it's funny). But this potential author is not really up on birds, particularly song birds, and so they are uncertain what the best/funniest bird comparison for Legolas would be. This possible author might desire the wisdom of tumblr on the topic, but prefer to keep things hypothetical, because heaven forbid they commit to creating anything.

I assume you understand.

tl;dr If Gimli came upon Legolas in the woods and had to compare him to a bird, what would be the most appropriate bird for him to choose? Bonus points if Thranduil is highly offended or gratified by the choice.

PS: Any Tolkien scholars in the audience want to weigh in on whether Jirt was at all influenced by the Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale The Nightingale? Since I have recently learned just how much of LotR is referential I keep wondering about these things.

#lotr #lord of the rings #poll #polls #legolas #luthien #birds #yes the lark is totally a Romeo and Juliet reference #gull not included because that's just mean

[interact-if]

could you recommend some ifs where we’re reunited with an ro? like, the ro (and your relationship with them) is only mentioned in passing until the mc meets them (again, for the character, and—potentially—for the first time, for the player). sorry if this is confusing. ahhh. thanks in advance!

Hi Anon,

You can be reunited with an RO in the games below! If anyone has any recommendations for this genre, please feel free to let us know and we’ll add it to the list.

Completed:

Childhood Friend from The Lost Heir by Mike Walter

Lydia from High School Daze: Junior Year (VN) by @hummingbird-games

Morgan from Pendragon Rising by Ian Thomas

Wren from Red-Handed Robin (VN) by @hollowmend​ 

Demos:

Sifra and Zehra from Advenio by @adveniogame

Tamsin and Felix from Birthright by @sleepingcitadelstudios

Luci and Cameron from Disenchanted by @disenchantedif

Alexandra and Eris from Event Horizon by @if-eventhorizon

Harry from Exiled From Court by @beeanca-writing

Wesley from Hollowed Minds by @shai-manahan

Ace from Larkin by @larkin-if (Optional)

Qiu from Merry Crisis by @merrycrisis-if

Leith from Ouroboros by @honeypeabrain

Dallas from RockRobin (VN) by @happybackwards

Red from Shepherds of Haven by @shepherds-of-haven

Nour from Throne of Ashes by @13leaguestories

Guy from Truths Untold (VN) by Crow Tree Entertainment

Cassidy and Kai from Twin Coves (VN) by @twincovesgame

Ace from Valhalla by @palette-jack

Aida and Arlo from Water To Blood by @veirsewrites (Optional)

#if: rec list #reunited ROs #interactive fiction #interact if asks

[wrenandthemachine]

I swear bungee is reading my fic and continuously coming up with ways to make me extend it.

* Wanted to kill Wren and end the story with Cayde going after Ghaul in a blaze of glory

* Forsaken is released and makes me want her alive to deal with his death. She gets her revenge and has to move on.

* I make this Discord and people want him alive again so now I have to figure out HOW

* Europe happens and I realize how to make it happen!

* writes first lore book to give reason for it to be possible

* Crow comes around and now I have to figure out how to handle her meeting him

* NIGHTMARES

* Cayde dies and Wren has to hunt Uldren but it occurs to me that she knew him as an awoken. Starts writing second lore book

TRAILER IS DROPPED AND I NO LONGER KNOW WHAT TO DO

#destiny #destiny 2 #watm #wrenandthemachine #cayde-6 #destiny fanfiction #wren #cayde6

[insanitybl00m]

Random HC's about Q!Wilbur no one asked for

-he's part avian, so he's unable to fly (even when his wings are healthy) but he has tiny wings and the characteristics of avians. (characteristic of avians are just their habits, like him being obsessed with all of Tallulah's signs and not letting her break any he finds special because he hoards them like Phil hoards shinies)

-I see him as Aromantic Greysexual (he has had romantic relationships before tho (ie Quackity) lmao)

-He gave tallulah his favorite guitar pick (it's strung on a necklace) when he left for tour

-He has an amapola on a necklace, much like the guitar pick necklace

-Although he can't fly he loves the feeling of being high up in the air, it feels like home.

-he genuinly thought phil was straight and was just teasing Phil about being bi, imagine his shock when his father is in fact bi and is in love with an undead man who acts like a wet cat

-He's autistic (slightly cannon ig as CC!Wilbur has talked about himself as potentially autistic and when Tallulah has expressed autistic traits he has laughed and said "just like your father")

-He needs glasses he just never wears them, always saying his glasses are just for fashion (he is so blind lmao, he has contacts he wears on stage maybe (again this is a HC))

-he has PTSD (has said he has trauma when he was adopting Tallulah)

-thinks of Tubbo as his younger sibling

-plays tallullah demos of his new songs

-He might act like he hates Chayanne but when he first saw him, he instantly thought of Tommy and knew he had to protect him (tommy is also his brother, Tommy just doesn't like the idea of going to Quesadilla Island (so valid))

-Has these dreams of another world (dsmp) and he thinks these are visions of a past life (they're not as evidenced by a convo between Q and Wilbur)

-his wings aren't black crow wings like Phil's, his are a light brown

-Phil is a Crow avian and Wilbur is a Wren avian (a type of songbird thats shy and secretive by nature, I think it fits lol (also Wren's are adorable, they're like little puffs))

-Tallulah has his beanie, he literally took the hat off his head and gave it to her because he thought she looked cold when he first met her.

I think that's all of mine for now (am I writing a fic and did I use this as a dumping ground for things I wanted to add, maybe)

#qsmp #q!wilbur

[dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night]

Does Wren know how to swim?

Could you write him drowning?

Lol, he's too squishy to live for too long.

Whumpay day 5 & 2 - near death experience/young whumpee

TW: drowning, religion, paganism, referenced chronic pain and illness, near death experience, minor whump

Note: Wren is a teenager, but his age isn't explicitly stated.

"Let's have a picnic then go swimming," Wren's mother, Lilac, suggested. "It's a lovely day."

It was only a short walk down to the lake. Wren carried the picnic basket, saving his chronic pain ridden mother the trouble.

The sat together on the shore, staring at the blue green water, filled with all manner of algae, plants, and fish.

Wren tossed bread crumbs to crows. His mother laughed, in that lovely way which always put Wren at peace.

"You know," Wren said. "The followers of Vo'ki used to go out into the wilderness with whatever good food could be spared to feed the animals. It was considered an act if great worship."

"That sounds nice." Lilac smiled, as pretty as any bird or snake in her son's eyes. "Do you want to go for a swim?"

"Sure."

Wren took off his day clothes, which he had worn his modest swim suit under. He glanced around to make sure he and his mother were alone before removing his veil.

"I'll beat you to the lake," Lilac shouted, taking off running.

Wren chased after her, despite his worries about how running might harm his mother's fragile health. She would be in agony all day tomorrow for this, but still she wished to live every day like she wasn't ill.

They both waded out into the freezing water, goosebumps raising on their skin. Lilac stayed where she could touch without issue. Wren grinned at her and swam out farther.

When he was a good third of the way out into the lake, Wren dove down, his eyes pried open to get a look at the world hidden below the surface.

Large pike swam by, and Wren waved at them. He used to be afraid of large fish, and now he only saw them as the blessed creatures of his patron god.

Longing to stir up sand on the lake bottom, Wren dove further, fighting the feeling of his lungs struggling against lack of air. He trusted his swimming abilities enough to risk staying under for more than two minutes.

A massive forest of kelp greeted him, tendrils waving to say hello, or as a warning to stay away. Wren knew plants to be within the domain of a sister if Vo'ki, and swam down to touch it. The slimy texture was both gross and delightful, in a funny way.

He turned over so that his feet were below his head, ready to return to the surface. A strand of kelp wrapped around his ankle, moved by an unfortunate current, holding fast as he kicked against it, waving his arms in wide circles.

His lungs spasmed, trying to force him to inhale. But Wren was no fish, nor any other creature of sea, lake, or river, and the freezing lake water could only being him more pain.

Vo'ki, please save me.

Wren stared up at the fish swimming above him in the sunlight cutting through the dark green water.

Please, I beg of you.

One last kick broke his ankle free of the kelp vice, and Wren raced up to the surface thirty feet above him. His vision grew blurry, unconsciousness threatening him with every passing second.

Fresh air awaited Wren in the surface world, swarming into his smasming lungs as he gasped for mercy from the pain of lack.

Thank you, Vo'ki.

Wren swam back towards shore, longing for his mother's embrace, and still struggling to breathe.

I vow to return your mercy.

Taglist: @elim-flower @devourerofcheesecake @whumpsday @whumpshaped @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @hearse-song @heavenly-whumper @nyooom @suck-my-clit-loser @enbygesserit

Event: @whumpay

#Whump #Whumpay day 6 #Drowning whump #Divinity

[findroleplay]

Hi there!

I'm a 21f and I'm looking for some rp partners. I write 3rd person literate, and only on discord. When it comes to length I can write just about anything, though my go-to is one or two paragraphs per reply. I am looking for someone that can be active, since I tend to lose motivation when only writing a couple times a week. I also prefer to keep things SFW, but have no problem with references and fade to blacks.

I’ll list out the fandoms and ships I’m looking to write below. The role I want to write as will be in brackets.

Harry Potter:

[Andromeda Black] x Ted Tonks or platonic with anyone from the Black family

[Dorcas Meadowes] x Marlene McKinnon

[Regulus Black] x OC or platonic with Sirius

[My F OC] x anyone from the golden trio era

[Astoria Greengrass] x Draco Malfoy

Hunger Games:

[OC] x OC

[Lucy Gray Baird] x Coriolanus Snow

Grishaverse:

[Nikolai Lantsov] x Zoya Nazyalensky or Alina Starkov

[Linnea Opjer] (Nikolai’s half sister) x OC or any of the Crows

Shadowhunters:

[Jem Carstairs] x Tessa Gray or OC

Star Wars:

[Ahsoka Tano] x anyone platonic or romantic (though please please please nothing with her as a minor against an adult)

[Shin Hati] x Sabine Wren

Fandomless:

I have a female mafia boss OC that is rather near and dear to my heart. She’s a bit cold and closed off, but can be opened up. Looking for something romantic with her. She is bi, so any gender works. I also write her brother, if you want something with a male, but he is not cold at all and really her opposite.

I have a number of medieval/fantasy OCs, though most of them are royalty. We can discuss plots and come up with anything, really, just interact.

I have a 1970s rock band gal. With this I’d be looking to write out life as a band and their rise to fame or fall from it. (I am a whore for the pregnancy trope with this one, Ngl)

That’s all! Please go ahead and leave a like or DM me if interested!

-

#roleplay #rp #harry potter rp #hunger games rp #grishaverse rp #shadowhunters rp #star wars rp #oc rp #original rp #fandomless rp

[violettesiren]

I can’t write you because everything’s wrong. Before dawn, crows swim from the cedars: black coffee calls them down, its bitter taste in my throat as they circle, raucous, huge. Questions with no place to land, they cruise yellow air above crickets snapping like struck matches. My house on fire, crows

are the smoke. You’ve never left me. When you crossed the river you did not call my name. I stood in tall grass a long time, listening to birds hidden in reeds, their intricate songs.

The grass will burn, the wrens, the river and the rain that falls on it. I can go nowhere else: everything I cannot bear is here.

I must listen deeper. Sharpen my knife. Something has changed the angles of trees, their color. Do not wait to hear from me. I cannot write to you because this is what I will say.

Letter Home by Pamela Alexander

#pamela alexander

[sentientsky]

@thebookshoparoundthecorner, this one is for u (based on this post)! sorry it’s not a full fic, but i’m sick rn and this was the best i could do with my fever lol

—

The night is slick—holy, hollow gasps of darkness slipping between the streetlights, pooling in oily patches along the road. His hands flex on the steering wheel, all white-knuckles and trembling fingertips. He does not breathe. He hasn’t let a single breath slip past his lips since that moment in the street only a handful of hours before. It was as though, if he could fight back against the desperation of human lungs long enough, he might hold onto what little scrap of Aziraphale remained with him now (if only in shared oxygen and lips bruised with the futility of affection).

Were that he another—were that he not a demon with a restless, wanting, greedy heart (a rose by any other name). Or, rather, if an angel with silver filament curls might love him unabashedly—as he is. Well, then the story might have turned out differently. But for the moment, he is alone, save for the chrome headlights before him and the closing of lift doors so many kilometers behind.

The road rushes beneath him, and the indigo fluorescent night opens its cavernous mouth and swallows him whole.

The tunnel is a long, winding thing, potlights spanning the length of concrete. Tunnels always made Crowley uncomfortable—their narrow, looming grasp too much like the corridors of Hell. But in the here and now, he watches the lights blur past like atoms colliding, rending apart in empty space.

And then he blinks.

He blinks and it’s as though he’s watching the birth of the universe played out in slow motion. Because, although it may be easier to forget, the hands now unsteady on the steering wheel are the same ones that first turned the wheel, that set the universe into motion; the hands of an architect, an engineer.

And for that brief fraction of a second, when all is naught but breath and movement and airy light—when he sees nothing, save for the staccato glow pressed against his closed eyelids—he remembers.

He remembers the pulsing heat of galaxies yet to be pried up from the floorboards of creation. He remembers wings bright as a solar flare, unflinching in the face of the divine. He remembers his heart in his throat—the way his skin felt like pure lightning as he first watched photons catch and splinter against newly forged matter.

He exhales. He opens his eyes.

#didn’t rly know how to end this sorry!! #and I didn’t rly have the mental capacity to edit it. so I apologize if it’s a lil incoherent lol #anyway here ya go! #good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #aziracrow #aziraphale #go2 #ineffable lovers #good omens season 2 #ineffable wives #gomens #gomens 2 #good omens angst #wren writes crow #David tennant #good omens fic #gomens fic #good omens ficlet #gomens ficlet #good omens fanfic #good omens oneshot #my writing

[kaatiba]

a list of things that are changing in the second draft of my novella, rivener

Wren and Kai knew each other prior to meeting in the book's start; he was enslaved to a militia and she was a member of said militia (and former child soldier)

Kai is not selectively mute but Wren is—I want Kai to have more agency and personhood in this draft, because his whole identity has been limited to beast. He makes a point of speaking so no one can pretend he's not as much a person as they are, even if he can shift into a wolf. Wren, who identifies and is an identified as half weapon and half human, is the one who speaks less and with difficulty, which is purposeful.

Wren has a little cottage in the woods, rather than a campsite, and it's wrenching for her to leave it, knowing it'll probably be found and destroyed. But she leaves any way. She sacrifices for Kai anyway, and this is another huge marker of her development and marker in her redemption arc

I want to make it more clear that the world is akin to Princess Mononoke, industrialization meets fantasy. But also post-apocalyptic, so a little Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, where the ruins of the past tech advanced civilization remains in ruins. And then a dash of Howl's Moving Castle with the magic and weaponization of magic. I love my ghibli shhhhh.

Wren has a crow friend and his name is Ark and he has leucism making him caramel colored! I love that crow.

I'm not ready to write it yet, but I am thinking about it, and it's bringing me joy

rivener taglist (hope u don't mind it's for development content and not actual novel content): @tracle0

#taglist is open btw #rivener* #kaatibawrites #ghibli inspired not in visual aesthetics but in.....world building???? sorta????? and thematic elements if i can manage it!!!

[barnes-lothbrok]

After obsessing over Top Gun Maverick and the Dagger Squad here are call signs that pop into me head. Some make sense, some don't. Feel free to use them if you are inspired to write.

☆

Birds -

Wren

Seagull

Finch

Starling

Nightingale

Magpie

Crow

Jackdew

Hawk

Kestrel

Kite

Parakeet

Quial

Canary

Dove

Swan

Bluejay

Robin

Birdie

Bugs -

Ladybug

Hornet

Firefly

Wasp

Bee

Honeybee

Bumble

Bumblebee

Weather -

Hale

Sunny

Storm

Flash

Twister

Tempest

Tornado

Hurricane

Rain

Gale

Foggy

Bolt

Plants -

Rose

Violet

Daisy

Tulip

Bluebell

Willow

Oak

Ash

Basil

Marigold

Clouds -

Nimbus

Cirrus

Sky -

Dusk

Dawn

Moon

Moonlight

Crescent

Luna

Eclipse

Stars

Starlight

Stardust

Nova

Stella

Random -

Mabel

Silver

Goldie

Blondie

Venus

Juno

Raptor

Mythical -

Harpy

Valkyrie

Ghost

Banshee

Phantom

Medusa

Pegasus

Cerberus

Manitcore

Centaur

☆

If any of these are already in use, please don't be offended. These are just what have floated into my thoughts. Please let me know if they are as I will be more than happy to read or remove from the list.

That being said you do not need to tag me if any are used, just hoping to inspire anyone, maybe with an amazing idea but waiting on a call sign 😊

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun imagine #top gun call sign #top gun ideas #dagger squad

[wander-wren]

intro post

hello hello! my name is wren, or kestrel if you’d like to spice it up, and my pronouns are they/them. i’m a 19 year old english major from the northeast us with a huge love for both books and fandom.

i spend most of my time writing fanfiction, which you can find on ao3. i also have a sideblog, @flfverse, dedicated to my BNHA/Dabihawks centric series Feels Like Flying.

my main interests currently include:

writing

fandom/fanfiction meta

BNHA

warrior cats

six of crows/grishaverse

the raven cycle

trigun

birds

i always welcome asks and interaction, even from people who don’t necessarily agree with me, as long as you’re civil about it. i don’t have a DNI, but i’m not afraid to swing the block hammer if the need arises.

#bird noises #pinned #finally a proper one! i might fiddle with it later but i was tired of not having it

[indiecrowarts]

Welcome Friends!

Welcome friends! My name is Wren and I'm a multi-media artist and illustrator focused on digital art with a cartoony twist.

Outside of drawing comics and working on my YouTube channel, I love designing characters, rolling dice, and trying new types of art. I’m very proud of the videos I’ve been working on, and if you have the time I’d love if you stopped by!

If you like talking about DnD, videogames, writing, art, or comics I have a lovely little discord server filled with creative people called The Crows Nest. You can join this corner of the internet here!

I’m also a comic artist currently working on these comics:

If you’re interested in my portfolio it can be found here:

(comission sheet is under construction- will be added soon)

#i don’t know how to code in html so I made this post instead #artists on tumblr #digital art #small artist #graphic design #portfoilo #youtube #pinned intro #pinned post #read pinned #social links #meet the artist #procreate #digital illustration #disabled artist #queer artist