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the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
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i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
Cecilia'd tried to define love for a good half of her life. How strange is it to think it can be found with a witch who lies as easily as he breathes, collects secrets like beads, and whose method of bargaining would be to grin as he upturns the board without reprieve, damn everything else. The very same witch whose eyes are too warm, and whose smile is too dimpled, and whose moods can shift as easily as her own. Almost like those dances they've grown so fond of together; it takes two.


I may or may not be soft for writing quiet romantic moments--



coming soon.
take it easy.
aliascae
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let's live our lives heroically / let's live our lives with style

Some didn't take well to the appearance of people donned in Farnessan colors and Farnessan attitudes -- their assistance labeled as interference, blessings as curses and presence as time wasted -- but others were more receptive.

this isn't from my last post, but i like it.
last edit on Nov 13, 2020 2:06:00 GMT by cae
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
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i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
not from my last post but tbh i still really like the angst here.

"Can do, detective." It's said with that same easy, characteristic, boyish grin. As if nothing was wrong whatsoever.

(But no, it is, isn't it? When he looks at him as if he'd sooner want him gone, cold and cutting in a way that feels more belonging to anyone else but him. He'd made his own assumptions as to why; times spent and prioritized, choosing one over the other. Devotion to a cause demands so much, in the end. Lucas made his choice there, a thousand times over. It was never him. So maybe the hostility makes sense.)


lovers to enemies due to opposing sides? we love to see it.



coming soon.
aliaskappaccino
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kappaccino
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welcome and well met, my brave little spark
I haven't written in forever, but my fiance asked for a short story between our old characters for her birthday, so I tried to start it last night. I don't even remember writing this, since I was delirious with pain and sleepiness, but I kind of like it a lot? 

The parched earth cracked under his boots, grey dust and splinters of what was once a forest. Some twisted remnants of trees remained, jutting from the ground like the shattered bones of a colossal beast, bleached white and bare of leaves. It was a sobering reminder of what they’d lost - what they still had left to lose.

It was also fucking annoying to sneak through.


Rodent King
aliasditz
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where fears and lies melt away.
Currently working on an original setting and wanted to share something from it.

Frightening creatures, Maliced come in a variety of sizes and shapes from draconic and beast-like to eldritch and avian. Most lack any sense of self-awareness and rely purely on instinct. Unfortunately, their instinct is to destroy and consume. Capable of consuming anything - from organic and inorganic matter to emotions. What exactly they hunger for varies from Maliced to Maliced. Regardless of what it is, they will never get full.
Feline Overlord
aliasChibi
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Chibi Magician
Spring '21 Dev Completionist
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Pure Gremlin Energy
Battle crashed around him in a dissonant symphony. Weapons clashed the sound of soft tings from the strikes ringing similar to delicate bells. Coppery scents of blood burned into his nose. Red markers of where injuries occurred dotted across the shimmering white snow. In his steady hand resided an axe, head sheening with blood across the metallic surface. Beads of the red liquid of life trickled down the surface, dripping onto tampered snow beside the unfortunate sap to meet its edge. The man was bashed in, face unrecognizable and body painted with lethal blows.
- Riley Chaeffeur in Torrent of Rage
last edit on Jan 16, 2021 16:43:00 GMT by Chibi Magician
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discover my shipwrecked heart, salvage all you can keep

His laugh and the narrowing of green eyes makes Lura understand why the color green is always associated with poison. A far cry from their first hesitant meeting, where anger managed to stay at bay with the pure wonder of seeing each other again after so long apart, this is true rage and resentment. Lura feels his words cut into her as clearly as if he'd slashed her with a knife. Even worse that there is nothing she can say to counter what he says, because he is right. There is something hollow like the blight of jealousy that eats her from the inside, devouring everything that she is until all that's left is this twisted fury.
mostly i am just proud of the first sentence but the rest of the paragraph slaps too, i guess
heliopause, light/modern fantasy animanga
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
Was in a bit of a writer's block for a bit that has hopefully passed. I blame finally reading again, but I did like writing this, particularly the last line bc it slaps.



Information, she claims, as easily as a mortal breath. There are few things that interest Alfie Santoro in his long-overdue lifetime; that four-syllable word works as remarkably as the key to any locked door, the answer to a sphynx's riddle. He takes a long sip of his glass as she continues on, spinstress of warnings and secrets. Anton—a name like a whisper in the dark, destructive as acid rain, and now just as rare.

There are few things like the loyalty of sons, as Alfie has come to understand himself. No matter the way the wind blows, the means in how the tides shift, come hell or high water. He's quiet as she goes on. You can't guarantee loyalty in alliances, in the end. Kingdoms and nations have fallen for less than missing men.



coming soon.
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
this is an abuse of run-on sentences and a hate-crime against proper grammar and periods but panicked spiralling streams of consciousness? panicked spiralling streams of consciousness!

He holds on to him like a goddamned lifeline, and for a moment the detective's panic is as infectious as it is paralyzing, because he doesn't know what to do and is not equipped for this and in all his years, Lucas only properly understood how to die for a cause with knives drawn and guns blazing, and not how to keep someone upright as you guide them to shore.



coming soon.
Tidal Wave
aliasAkira, Tsunami, Tsu, Aki
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I've got a hurricane in my head, I can't feel a thing, but it's better than dead
I love the dynamic these two have and the absolute chaos that ensues whenever they are together... I am not sure about the allowed swearing content so I starred it. >.>

By the time they got there, the sun was setting, and Nix was whining about how much his feet would have hurt if he could feel pain. "Aww... come on.. Just carry me already! You're built like a f***ing train, ain't it your job to carry passengers?" Of course Ten wasn't about to have any of that. Still, he had to try, so he leapt up onto his partner's back and climbed up on his shoulders. "Choo choo mother f***er!" He shouted, pointing off into the distance.
last edit on Jan 25, 2021 18:14:43 GMT by AkiraTsunami