#lila's excerpts
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JACK OF FOOLS: PROLOGUE
He did not start out starbright.
He got his origins here, in this very bloody alleyway—though it’s not so bloody now. Everything’s been cleaned, washed away. This alleyway, for all appearances, is like any other in this city at night. Dark, cloaked in shadow where monsters of endless kinds lurk, dangerous to the wrong folk who get lost wandering. The ones who should never have been allowed to wander so freely in the first place. He was one of those, once. That night that led him here.
This alleyway fades and yet he has never forgotten its location, even after the buildings on either side changed and burned and built back up again, replaced with new owners and new memories. Only he remembers the old days, undoubtedly.
If he closes his eyes, he can breathe in the long ago bloodsoaked stench on his hands, his nails, the cobblestones, the glinting knife in his shaking grip. His blue coat. That blue coat got sliced to shreds quickly, the last of its kind.
It was here in these shadows, here that he said, I will never be powerless again. Here that he said, not another living soul will go a day without recognizing my name, even after I am cold and gone. Here where he grew his famous smile.
Here that his faded old name became lost to time, banished to the darkest hallways of his mind, and he became starbright instead. Glittering. Effervescent. Unforgettable.
Eternal.
Many in his position would say they do not remember the before times, the era where they scrounged for scraps of bread and groveled in the filth for a copper. They claim they were born draped in silks and velvets, never bathed in anything cold and dirty. They laugh. They sparkle with their eyes, their jewels, their coin, just as he does every night.
They all lie.
The memories so crystal clear grip Jacke with a cold hand, a tight hold around the throat that chokes and cloys even after all this time. He does not need to stand in this alley to summon the fear, bitter and sour. It has not forgotten him.
Footsteps make his eyes fly open, an instinct born from these before times. What worry, after all, would someone of his status and wealth have for his own safety when he could hire out a whole battalion of the city’s most talented protectors? He should sleep like a baby each night in his plush mattress and satin sheets, unwitting to the assassins lurking outside, forever waiting for their moment. Instead, he lies wide eyed most nights, frozen stiff with anticipation of attacks that he has not suffered since this alleyway.
The footsteps are not coming his way, a drunken stumbling he is well familiar with hearing. However, they are a stark reminder that he is not at home, and he’d best get going. He has indulged himself in humbling memories long enough. No matter where he goes, it seems he’s never alone for long, even if the passersby don’t know who he is standing in the shadows, his hat tipped low to hide his eyes. He doesn’t need to see much here, not that the dark would be agreeable. His feet know the way.
Without a further sound, he creeps back down the shadows the way he came, leaving any who might’ve seen a red coated figure scratching their heads as to his whereabouts.
general taglist (if you'd like to be on a taglist for jack of fools let me know) @magic-is-something-we-create @muddshadow @47crayons @worldbuildng @nicola-writes @twoseeds
#writing#writeblr#my wip#fantasy#fantasy writeblr#my writing#bean's excerpts#fantasy writing#excerpt from my wip#original fiction#lila's excerpts#lila's wips: jof
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A Darker Shade of Magic by V. E. Schwab
#resentful reads#a darker shade of magic#shades of magic#v.e. schwab#lila#thievery#bookblr#book quotes#book excerpt
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Find the Vibe Tag
Rules: find an excerpt from your WIP that fits a vibe.
My vibe is "I think I will cause problems on purpose"
Thank you for the tag @talesofsorrowandofruin <3
As soon as I saw this 'vibe' I knw exactly the scene I needed to share. I planned to do something from Darkling, but there's just this one moment in Changeling that's absolutly perfect.
"It's Mimi right?" Booker asked, turning around fully in his seat, and Lizzy felt her heart raise to settle in her throat anxiously.
She recognised his tone. The one that said he was irritated, but was refusing to show it. The overly friendly voice Booker liked to use when he wanted someone to let their guard down long enough for him to get revenge.
"Booker..." she warned quietly, but he ignored her.
"It's Mia."
"Ah, of course. My apologies. That privilege was only bestowed on Hunter Roche. I remember now."
"Booker," Lizzy hissed, trying to split her attention between Andric, who was shifting uncomfortably, and Mia, whose eyes were flashing with anger, her lips pressed tight, but Booker still didn't stop.
"So far this morning, Blake Allbrook and Kelsey Garrick have both approached us about sitting with you. May I suggest if you are that desperate for more friends, that you be a little more approachable?" he taunted. "Perhaps be a touch more open to people using your adorable little nickname?"
Tagging forward to; @minamoroz @faelanvance @ashen-crest @ettawritesnstudies @sleepyowlwrites and anyone else who see's this and wants to play (tag me so I see it!)
Your vibes are "I should not have said that".
#Tag Game#Find The Vibe#Changeling Excerpt#Changeline Extract#Changeling Scene#Booker Reed#Lizzy Hail#Lila Isabelle Hail#Mia Harris#Andric Roche#Writeblr#Writeblr Community#Writing#Writing Community
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wip (not) wednesday
Tagged by @thevikingwoman, thank you! 💖
Tagging @bearlytolerant @solverne-02 @a-shakespearean-in-paris @hylfystt @birues @lilas @galadae @impossible-rat-babies @coldshrugs @roguelioness
This is part of Chapter 7 of a FFXIV longfic I've been working on for a while and I am once again throwing a chunk down because I'm allergic to excerpting.
Spoilers for some Heavensward stuff. Also warning for some spiciness/mature content below the cut.
Aureia's a mess and that's her prerogative. 😌
“There are many things I have done in my life that I am not proud of,” he says. “This one is rather high in that count.”
“Then maybe you’ve learned something from it.”
“Harsh words there, Aureia darling—”
She makes a face. If he was hoping the epithet would smooth things over, he thought wrong. “Do me a favour and never call me that again,” she says bluntly.
He nods, raising his hands in surrender, and together they press onward in silence. They have lost sight of the procession entirely, having watched it disappear into the mists some time ago. Ishgard’s streets are eerily quiet, absent of evening wanderers. They must be bundled up safely in their homes, waiting for the freezing rain to fall.
“You know you were under no requirement to accompany me, yes?” Thancred says after a moment. “You were well within your right to decline—”
“I should thank you for it,” Aureia interrupts. “Aymeric has duties to attend to and I certainly wasn’t going to stay there with Edmont eyeing me up.”
He snorts, amused. “Not caring for the good count these days, I see?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know—”
He smiles.
“—it’s all so very irritating. Ishgardian politics don’t so much as go over my head as they annoy me. It’s not that I don’t appreciate Edmont for everything he’s done, it’s that I feel he is too nosy and controlling for his own good. Look at his sons.”
“Perhaps I should not. Emmanellain and I do not share a charming history after all.”
She rolls her eyes. “What happened to Emmanellain was not his fault, but the damn pressure of living up to expectations set by a gifted brother. He has none of Haurchefant’s training or skill, and yet is expected to behave just like him. And when he inevitably fails to fulfill those demands, his father turns his eye to other, more skilled individuals.”
“Like yourself?”
“Like Aymeric.”
“Ah. Of course. Who could not fall under the mesmerizing charm of the Lord Commander.”
Aureia scowls. For a moment they were almost speaking like friends again. Almost.
They turn down a narrow street, the cobblestones slick with mist and melting snow. The rough walls of the tenements encroach on them, the rows of high windows shuttered against the dark and cold. The only light spills from lanterns that sway from the iron arches and spiked fences lining the alleyway.
“And what of him?” she spits.
“I couldn’t help but notice you and he seem quite close,” he retorts. “Even closer than you were before my departure.”
“And? I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but you missed some developments since you’ve been gone, but we ended a war, Thancred. For good. That was reason enough for celebration—”
“So that is what you call it. And here I was wonder why I could smell wine on your breath.”
“We had dinner tonight. Is that a crime in your eyes now?”
“Nothing of the sort. I do hope you enjoy your celebrations, Aureia. Gods know you deserve all the happiness he can afford you.”
She stops short, anger burning in her chest. “Happiness?” she snarls, grabbing him by the arm. “What makes you think I’m happy with this? With any of this?”
Thancred pulls free from her grasp and rounds on her, his face inches from hers. “You’re the Warrior of Light,” he says. “Defender of Eorzea and a beacon of hope. Blessed by Hydaelyn and beloved by all. What possible reason could you have not to be?”
“Oh, fuck you.”
“Aye, fuck me.”
She raises her chin, staring him down, and takes a step into him, her heart racing. The cobblestones are slick beneath her boots. Water drips from the gutters. The lanterns creak in the faint wind. Their breath mists in the air, rising together before vanishing into nothingness.
Somewhere far away, a distant shuttered window slams shut, the sound of its passage echoing through the neighbourhood.
They crash together in a fury. Aureia’s mouth presses against his in an open and furious kiss, her hands clutching at him as she pulls him to her. He grunts, his teeth scraping against her lower lip as he kisses her in return. She hisses his name, the syllables lost in her urgency, the heat of his lips devouring hers and her tongue in his mouth chasing away the cold. His fingers grasp fistfuls of her coat and he pushes her backwards against the alley wall.
Her breath hitches from the force and she pulls him closer, urging him on. His kiss leaves her numb, shaking, exhilarated—somehow too much and not enough all at once. She doesn’t mind the roughness. She wants it. Whether this is desire or attraction or some gods damned way to find relief, she doesn’t care. She doesn’t know what it is.
It doesn’t matter. Not here, in this forgotten alleyway. Not with him.
The person who knows her the best.
The person she thought she knew the best.
Aureia kisses him hard, her hands clasped around the back of his neck. He grunts, murmuring her name, the weight of his body heavy against hers as he presses her into the wall. His mouth abandons hers, leaving her cold and gasping for breath, only to close in on that soft, sweet spot beneath her ear. She inhales sharply, heat coiling deep within her, the urge to move overtaking her. Her hips move, grinding against him, an excited shiver running down her spine at the ragged sounds she draws out of him.
Thancred growls, the sound rumbling in her ear. His kisses consume her, his mouth roaming to the hollow of her throat. He slides hand beneath her coat, fingers tangling in her tunic, and yanks at the buttons. She moans at the touch and fiddles with the tie in his hair, loosening it with stiff fingers. He kisses her in response, his mouth hard on hers as he wrenches her neckline open and pulls the thin fabric of her bandeau down. Her skin prickles in the cold air, frozen by the chill yet warmed by the heat of his hand on her breast.
She curses, her body shaking, his name lost on her tongue. She pulls the tie free and drops it, raking her hands through his hair as she chases his kiss with hers. He groans, breathless, his hips moving against hers as he pushes her harder against the wall. Her fingers find the ends of his stupid bandana, the one he insists on wearing as an eyepatch for some gods damned reason he never cared to explain. She pulls it free and drops it to the ground.
Thancred slows, his body going stiff. He still pushes her into the wall, his hand is still on her breast, but otherwise he has frozen. Aureia draws back, her breath ghosting across his cheek, and meets his eyes.
One hazel. The other silver. And his look of dawning horror shatters her to the bone.
It isn’t until now that she finally understand what they have done. What they were about to do. Lost in whatever this unspoken thing lies between them, eating away at the remains of their friendship until there is nothing left.
“Aur,” he croaks. “I—”
Her eyes narrow. “No.”
He steps back immediately, the back of his hand pressed to his mouth. His loose hair falls across his shoulders as he stares determinedly at the ground, waiting for her to cover herself. She grimaces, heat flushing her cheeks, and she fixes her bandeau and closes her buttons.
Thancred coughs, clearing his throat, and awkwardly picks up the discarded patch from the ground. Limp, stained, soaked in rainwater. “I…” he begins.
“This was a mistake,” she says firmly. “We can agree on that, yes?”
He looks away. “Would you rather hear the answer you want or the answer that’s true?”
She finishes adjusting her clothing. “Are they not the same thing?” she retorts, folding her arms.
He closes his eyes. “Why must you be like this?” he whispers. There is no love, no hate, no feeling in his voice. Only numb exhaustion. “Very well. I cannot… I will not agree.”
“Don’t be an ass—”
“I told you I have made many mistakes in my life. Do not ask me to add you to that list.”
#HW patch era Aur is killing me slowly#this love triangle is making me feral do not send help#ffxiv#writing tag#aureia malathar#personal nonsense
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Chapter 5 - Excerpt 4
I was too tired for this. I laughed bitterly.
“What?” Jolene demanded, coming over. “You don’t believe her?” She said it challengingly.
“Oh, I do,” I said, grimacing a little. “I’m laughing because you think that knowing that makes things any better.”
Desiree, Rowan and Jolene looked confused, like they really didn’t see how come. Did they seriously not get it?
“So what if you can leave?” I said when I felt like I had to spell it out for them, the back of my throat feeling disgustingly bitter. “That doesn’t change anything. There’s Lila, all our earthly possessions, and oh, I don’t know, the possibility of our deaths, which, by the way, I’ve had to process and accept in less than twenty-four hours, among a ton of other things I had to process and accept. I don’t know about your mental immunity, but for someone whose life isn’t this” – I gestured towards the entire room and Knightville – “let me tell you, it isn’t easy. And now you’re asking me to help you with something that from every perspective looks just as risky, if not more, than staying in Knightville and waiting for my execution day, and I’m supposed to take your word for it that it isn’t. Now, I don’t know what you think I am capable of doing or believing or whatever, but this doesn’t cut it.”
“Why-” Jolene began, but I cut her off.
“The answer’s no, Jolene,” I said, my voice ringing out sharply on the walls of the long blue room. “I won’t help you, and even if I wanted to, I can’t, for a shit-ton of reasons that I shouldn’t have had to explain to you.”
For a while, it was silent, presumably because no one had expected it. I didn’t see why, I didn’t regret a word.
Scarlett, who stood behind Jolene, raised an eyebrow and looked around incredulously. “Why are you all so shocked? What did you expect?”
It was grim. Indeed, what had they expected? Had they seriously thought I would say yes?
“More than we should have, apparently,” Jolene replied witheringly. I felt my eyebrows go up.
Wow, for people who believed so much in cold, hard reality, they were actually so delusional.
“Jolene...” Rowan said.
“He’s right,” Desiree interrupted in a small voice, rife with guilt. She had, after all, been the one to pose the question, she looked like she felt terrible about it now. “We’re already burdening him more than we should, as strangers. And you weren’t very kind to him about it too.” She’d been looking at the other three as she said this. “Despite that, he has helped us, and he kept our secret.It’s selfish to expect more from him.” Her shoulders hardened, she looked at me. “I’m—we’re thankful, Kenneth. And sorry.”
Desiree flushed faintly towards the end, and she looked so genuine and sincere with her speech that I suddenly felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Not for saying no, but for the way I’d said it.
Jolene, Rowan, and Scarlett were all three of them aggravating, snarky, and rude. Contradictory, too, because sometimes they would act like the world bent to them, other times like they bent to the world, which was just annoying. I certainly wasn’t going to sit down and take the time to figure them out; I had more important things to think about.
But Desiree, if I recalled correctly, had always been kind to me. She was being kind now, in fact, and she was apologizing on behalf of people who had more to apologize for than her.
That, I thought, was mature of her.
“That’s not—you don’t need to apologise,” I told Desiree. “And, don’t worry, I’ll still keep the secret. It’s just, I can’t do much more than that.”
“Thank you anyway,” Desiree offered a small smile.
I might actually end up liking some of these people.
Things were silent for exactly two seconds, before the doors banged wide open again. Jolene, Rowan and Scarlett jumped up and all held themselves straighter. Possibly an involuntary reflex from their training.
My first thought was, Back so soon?
“No, stop, don’t you dare touch me,” came a loud, shrill voice.
Three people who were obviously Hunters barreled into the room. They were wearing the neat, dark blue armour that comprised their uniform, and a hulky dude had Lila in a death grip around her arm, which, obviously, she was uselessly fighting against.
“What are you doing?” I asked, standing up. “Let go of her-”
“The assembly has been preponed,” said a sharp female voice. Out of the three Hunters present, she was the only female, but no one would think so just by looking at her frame. She was tall, broad-shouldered and more muscled than a lot of guys I knew, and looked like she could easily take on every single person in this room, at once. “There have been-”
“Spare the details, Miranda,” drawled the guy behind Lila, who was holding her in a way that couldn’t possibly be comfortable. It took a considerable effort on my part not to grit my teeth.
“Let go of her,” I said again, boldly. “She’s human, she can barely harm you."
A silent, dangerous beat passed.
“Yes," the other male in the trip agreed finally. “It's considered rude to cut off the blood circulation in her upper arm, you know.”
The bigger guy glared at the one who just spoke, but slowly let go of Lila anyway. She yanked her arm away in defiance and rubbed her other palm over the area. “Get the other one, then,” he then said to the woman named Miranda.
She nodded and, without saying a single word, walked over to our group, pushed Rowan very rudely aside, and grabbed my shoulder in a bruising grip, as though she was trying to force me down with the sheer strength of her hand.
I looked at the shoulder under her grip. “Let me go,” I said, and a jolt that went through my body every time I’d used my powers went up my arm.
Miranda immediaely flinched and snatched her hand back, as if burned. She hid her hand with her other, but I could see a red weal appear across her palm.
So that meant my offensive light ability didn’t just harm Shadows. Huh. Good to know.
The rest of the room, however, instantly rebelled. The Hulk lunged forward, only to be blocked by Scarlett and Jolene, who were, by the way, half his size. Scarlett reached into her dark hair with her fingers and miraculously pulled out a small blade, twirling it between her fingers before holding it to Hulk’s chin without a single shift in her expression, which was, most probably, a suicide-level dangerous thing to do.
Mediocre Guy, who’d been standing beside Lila, decided then to spring into action, jumping at Scarlett and Jolene. But Rowan was already there, stomping his foot on the floor in front of him, which seemed to create an invisible force that threw Mediocre Guy off his feet. On later reflection, if this had been in a comic, I would have found it funny that a guy who looked like he was made of porcelain could conjure enough strength with only his right foot to throw someone else, whatever their size, off-balance.
Mediocre Guy made a loud crash and a surprised yelp as he fell, and let me tell you, it would have started war right then and there, if Desiree hadn’t intervened.
“Guys, stop!” her voice rose. “Rowan, have you lost your mind? Scarlett, put that thing away right now, and Jolene, I swear, if your fingers turn into claws!”
Everyone stepped back.
Miranda said in that sharp voice of hers, “Control your brats, Raynott, or we will be calling more Hunters.”
“They’re not my brats,” Desiree protested.
“I’ll go with you,” I felt the need to insinuate. “But not if you drag us around like we’re airport luggage.” I closed my mouth then, because I felt like I’d made my point.
Hulk looked as though that was exactly what he thought of us, Mediocre Guy stood up, and Miranda simply shrugged.
“Come on then,” Mediocre Guy spoke up, “but keep yourselves in check, especially you.” He jabbed a finger at Rowan, who simply rolled his eyes, not even bothering to check whether Mediocre Guy was looking or not.
With that, Hulk, Mediocre Guy and Miranda led us out of the room to destinations unknown.
But there was still one thing I was confused about. My power was everything to do with light and using it offensively, I’d seen it more than once, and it was obviously that light that had somehow hurt Miranda, because there was nothing else it could be.
But when I’d made the burn on Miranda’s hand that she was currently nursing, there had been no light.
Taglist: @jeahreading, @damn-this-transgirl-hella-gay, @mayaheronthorn, @cherryblossempearl
#indigo isles#land of crooked magic#writing stuff#tumblr novel#novel#writers on tumblr#writerblr#writing#writeblr
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WIP Wednesday
thanks for the tag @eridanidreams! I tag anyone who has something they would like to share.
My WIP sample today is from the Sam x Lila oneshot I shared a snip of a little while back. I've settled on calling it Unique Cargo and will finish it soonish...need to get to a comfortable point with the Ranger!Del fic and take a day to put finishing touches on the oneshot...anyway the WIP:
--
“Have you really boxed a terrormorph?” Ruby asked from her nest of pillows and blankets in a big chair in the living room. She was barely visible from her nest, her little voice slightly muffled by the pillow she rested her chin on.
Goose snorted a laugh from his chair, nearly choking on the popcorn he was eating. Lila giggled into Sam’s chest, her body bouncing with her laughter while curled up next to Sam. His arm bounced with her body, jostling him slightly as he stared at the large monitor on the wall.
His team was losing this series and he’d lost interest with the game so he didn’t bother pausing before answering the little one’s question, “I have. Several actually, but not all at once.”
Ruby’s little head popped up, her hazel eyes wide, “why?”
“Because he’s a touch crazy,” Goose joked.
Sam flashed Goose a ‘knock it off’ glance and looked to Ruby, “guns jam, knives break, but my fists haven’t failed me yet.”
“And he’s a touch crazy,” Lila added, a playful pinch catching him in the side making him jump, “but I think that’s true for most of the family. It’s what brought us together.”
Ruby smiled bright and then settled back into her nest, “have you ever wrestled an ashta?”
“I might’ve.”
“What about a siren?” Ruby asked.
“One or two,” he admitted.
“Have you ever punched a dropsalm? Ruby asked.
“Yup,” he sipped his beer, wondering how long this line of questions might go.
“What about a crocodaunt?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Tuskfrogs?”
“Yup.”
“What about a beetle grazer?”
“Never met a beetle grazer who caused me grief,” Sam smiled, realizing she was checking to see if he was listening.
Ruby peeked over her blankets again, “have you really punched all the others?”
“I have.” He admitted.
“Why were you on Jemison? It’s toxic or something there now.” Ruby asked.
“Loooong story,” He stretched.
“Do you punch everything?” Ruby asked.
“Nope.”
“Sometimes he kicks,” Lila teased.
Ruby giggled and disappeared into her nest.
(bonus second excerpt)
Lila’s laid her head on Sam’s chest and hugged him tight as he tapped his lamp to switch it off. It had been a long day getting Ruby settled into her new room and would take time for the little girl to relax at the ranch. Sam knew they should have stayed in Kryx a while longer or returned to Maheo where there were budding settlements. A place for her to be around people and get more in person care from her therapist. But she just wanted to hide so they retreated to the ranch. In a few weeks they’d head back to the Key for the Bitter Angel and a recheck with Samina and they could see to that then.
“We aren’t really going to be taking her raiding with us, are we?” Lila asked him, her voice a whisper.
“Bitter Angel is a safer ship than whatever either of us were carting Cora around in,” Sam said as he ran fingers up and down her back, “and it’s not like we’re going to raiding non-stop.”
“I suppose,” Lila kissed his chest.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
She pushed herself up and leaned close to his face, kissing him softly before speaking, “we’re in uncharted territory again.”
“We’ll be okay,” he said, even as his own worries continued to gnaw at him.
“We will,” she agreed, “it’s exciting.”
“It is,” he smiled.
She cuddled in close, her arm draped over his chest. He closed his eyes and tried to relax as his mind buzzed with all the things they needed to do. There were lessons to find, furniture to build, xeno to hunt, greenhouses to harvest. And little Ruby would be right there with all her curious questions. His smile lingered as sleep started to claim him, the realization that he was looking forward to the curious inquisitor tomorrow.
#starfield#sam coe#starfield fanfiction#atonalginger writes#wip wednesday#starfield spoilers#starborn!Sam#Lila Aiza#Goose#introducing Ruby!#where did they meet Ruby? We'll see when I get the oneshot posted!
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So I decided to try and see if someone had made a suitable replacement for that RWBY Team Name Generator you mentioned, see if I could share it here for whatever reason.
I could not. Searching it on DuckDuckGo simply gave the following:
This generator on fantasygenerators.com, which did not take names and simply gave random team names based around colors.
A generator that gave randomly generated RWBY team names, including members and basic descriptions of said members, with some alterable options but none for specific names. It seemed intended for D&D npcs or something. Kinda like it though, honestly. Probably one of the best ones here.
This one takes names, but is apparently using them for some sort of pseudo-random generation or something that doesn’t actually account for the name itself. Repeating the same name gives the same result, like how ‘Kevin’ gave me “CDAR (Cedar Chest)” every time. So I wouldn’t use it.
This one is kinda like the first one, but uses a weird font for the results for some reason. Also, I think it may just be pulling from a list. A not very long list. That can be easily found by just scrolling down.
This is the worst one, a generator that doesn’t realize that it is supposed to stick to less that 4 characters. In one case, as many as four characters over the limit. Specifically, AMETHYST. Just, AMETHYST. As in the entire word. Awful.
This one does the same 'pull from a short list’ trick, but doesn’t even bother scrambling the results. It just does the same ones every time. Someone clearly did something wrong here. And I just hit it again and it’s doing a different excerpt every time now. So now I’m really wondering how they messed this up.
This is not a generator, just a generated blog post meant to bait clicks.
This generator isn’t even trying to be accurate, giving results like “Obsidian Ravens” and “Amethyst Wolves”
And this one was another generated blog post without any actual generators. Which has a link to hbomberguy’s video on RWBY. For some reason. What.
So I could not find one that satisfied the requirements. Oh well.
-
Fucking oof
Yeah I think the Felix/Zoé/Lila/Fei team is going to have to be manual this time around.
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Excerpts from Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan Novels that make me feel things; because this series has a chokehold on my soul: Part 1
Trigger Warning: Much of this material mentions domestic violence, sexual assault, extreme misogyny towards women and more. Please read at your own discretion.
Lila having the fucking BALLS to refuse Marcello Solara and then telling everyone she possibly can about it in order to further embarrass him.
The mention of the Title (finally) and the revelation that Lila sees lenu as the brilliant friend. The way this moment makes me tear up. And Lenu being the only one at the wedding to understand that Lila and Stefano’s marriage was over before it even started.
No one acknowledging what happened to Lila, why she’s all bruised and bloodied. Even though they all silently know, it’s so commonplace and accepted that no one bats an eye. The idea that Stefano’s abuse of Lila makes him a “real man”, and that everyone’s inability to control or understand Lila makes them think she just needs a good beating. The normalcy for them of violent men, husbands and fathers. The idea that Lila had decided to take Stefano as a lover, therefore it’s her duty to accept the beatings.
I’ve never hated a character more than I hate Stefano Carracci. Even the Solara brothers don’t piss me off as much as he does.
Lila’s iconic horrifyingly true speech at the communist conference , one of my favorite monologues in the series
#going to make a part 2 eventually#tumblr only allows 10 pics per post smh#my brilliant friend#elena ferrante#lila cerullo#elena greco
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hey wackus!! i hate to expose myself as someone who doesn’t move on and ask about odnlb, but i was just curious. what exactly would you say lila WANTS? i find her completely incapable of feeling and thus have doubts that she can even desire for anything at all, but surely there was something she wanted to have destroyed herself for it, right? what are your thoughts?
lol it's ok i haven't moved on from odnlb either 💞
odnlb lila is a narcissist and a psychopath. as such, she has a very inflated and deluded sense of self-importance combined with zero empathy; in her mind, anything that threatens those aspects of herself threatens her power. ladybug threatens her power by defeating her, out-smarting her, and even earning the loyalty and admiration of the people lila has collected using fear and manipulation. she HATES ladybug for taking away her power and her prizes. she wants ladybug to suffer, and for all her effort to be for nothing.
excerpt from odnlb chapter 41
“You know, it’s been fun watching you these past few years,” said Monarque, brushing glitter off her arms and shaking it out of her hair. “I figured if I had to wait for my Wish, I could at least make your life miserable in the meantime. And I did, didn’t I?”
Ladybug gritted her teeth, fists clenching at her sides. “So you wanted revenge?”
“I wanted you to suffer,” Monarque said, smiling. She picked at the glitter on her chest, scraping her fingertip beneath her collarbone and examining the sparkling remnants with admiration. “It was Adrien’s idea, actually! After he destroyed all of the Miraculous, we decided to kill Chat Noir so you wouldn’t come looking for him. He thought the Rabbit Miraculous would be a better way for us all to get what we wanted, rather than rewriting reality. And by then you were already so heartbroken,” she said, sticking out her bottom lip and widening her eyes. “Missing your poor, dead chaton, crying over his statue, trying to hunt Papillon down. I decided I liked this reality. I could live in it for a while—especially if I’d get to remember how pathetic you were when I created a new one. I hope that’s how the Wish works. I hope I keep my memories of everything I did to you once I undo your entire existence.”
you're so right to say lila doesn't feel emotions. look back at chapter 34 - you won't find any emotions there at all! (if you were unsettled by this chapter, that could be why.) all she has are raging desires and impulses, which are major traits of psychopathy. she doesn't know what it's like to be happy per se, but i imagine she thinks it's the feeling she gets when she ruins the happiness of those who tried to infringe on her grandiosity.
to put it more simply, she wants to make ladybug's life hell and then wipe her from existence 👑💅🏼too bad she only succeeded at one of those goals
psychopath lila vs sociopath gabe
#quotes may differ from what you see on ao3#i took these from my google doc since ao3 is down :'(#odnlb#one does not love breathing#lila rossi#lila rossi is a psychopath#narcissistic personality disorder#psychopathic personality disorder#character analysis
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happy halloween! for today's excerpt, i decided to post the scariest thing of all: crippling self-doubt
this from an empire of gilded sand!
~
Now, after five years, Stenid is just so tired, so disheartened, so weak with yearning for peace. Yearning to exhale and not wait for the world to blow to bits around him.
To properly grieve the end of his relationship with Andrea, when she decided that his lifestyle was too much for her and she’d be better off dedicating her time fully to excavating the catacombs. Alier and Hathur went with her, once. Stenid remembers how he snapped at his brother when he was regaling Stenid with the tales of their work together—a scientist of energy cables, Alier, but happy to delve into any branch should the opportunity arise.
Stenid snapped because he couldn’t bear to be reminded of Andrea’s existence. He remembers when Hathur—kind, wouldn’t hurt a fly Hathur shot Stenid a seething glare over his shoulder as he escorted a teary Alier out of the room.
Stenid is tired, and he’s angry, and he knows nothing anymore but war. Winning the next battle only to plan for the next, and the next, and the despair that seeps through his soul at the losses. Lesia’s heavy sighs and endless drinks refilled and the roughness of fighting near the Sandring, how Stenid actually hasn’t seen the gleaming palace in Obiron in a year.
What would life be like without the war? To run a kingdom normally, if the Silkskin siblings have ever ruled with a definition of normal? What would it be like to fight over tablecloth colors and not how many soldiers they should send to die in a hopeless fight?
To nurture love again, and be a bearable enough brooding soldier for it to stick?
empire of gilded sand: @faithfire @magic-is-something-we-create @47crayons @wolven-writer @imaginarymen @worldbuildng
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Lila Bard knew in her bones that she was meant to be a pirate. All she needed was a working ship.
~ V.E. Schwab, A Darker Shade of Magic (2015)
#resentful reads#a darker shade of magic#shades of magic#v.e. schwab#lila#lila bard#pirates#bookblr#book quotes#book excerpt
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Six Sentence Sunday
It's been a while since I've done a Six Sentence Sunday, but here we are!
Tagging, with no pressure; Anyone who wants to take part!
But also, specifically... @havendearest @faelanvance @queen-kass-the-writer @authorminamoroz @afoolandathief @artbyeloquent @quilloftheclouds @blind-the-winds @athenixrose @josephinegerardywriter <3 <3
I'm so close to finishing the first draft of Changeling that I wanted to celebrate with a snippet. I've been avoiding posting anything too close to the end of the book, but here's a section from chapter thirty-six (Of what looks like is going to be 40 total chapters.)
He could feel her eyes on his face, and swiped his thumb across her hand again, but he couldn't spare her more reassurance than that, tilting his head to listen to the forest. He could feel his brow furrowing as he strained his hearing to it's limits but there was nothing.
Not a bird ruffling its feathers, not a mosquito whining in the distance. Perfect stillness, and Andric felt nausea begin gathering in the pit of his stomach.
Their route back to the school had been cut off, but worse, he didn't know which direction to head in. Without a clue from the wildlife of the forest, there could be a kavian around the next tree and he wouldn't know until it lunged for Lizzy's throat.
#Six Sentence Sunday#Snippet#Excerpt#Writeblr#Writeblr Community#Writing#Writing Community#Original Writing#Portal Fantasy#Romantic Fantasy#Fantasy#Vampires#Fey#Kavians#Ari Writes#Arista Writes#My Writing#Lila Isabelle Hail#Lizzy Hail#Andric Roche
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wip wednesday
tagged by @coldshrugs! 💖
tagging @bearlytolerant @thevikingwoman @roguelioness @lilas @galadae @impossible-rat-babies @birues @sirotras @hylfystt and anyone else who would like to share a thing they are working on!
This is from Chapter 3 of the thing I am currently working on, set during the Shadowbringers patches. Only realizing now in excerpting this that I kind of pulled an "only one bed trope" without noticing it. Joke's on me.
There is smut beneath the cut.
His eyes flick upwards, meeting hers as he gauges her reaction. A small smirk tugs at his lips. “Come to bed, Aur,” he says, kissing her hand once again. “It’s warm here.”
“And it’s awfully small.”
“All the more reason to stay close, no?”
She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “I have a number of things to do,” she replies with mock resistance.
“Oh?” He turns her hand and kisses the inside of her wrist. “I seem to recall that you are without clothes for the moment. They can wait. Unless, of course, you are considering running through Mor Dhona in naught but a smock? That would be quite the sight.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Oh, you ass.”
He throws back his head and laughs, eyes twinkling with affection. He drops her hand. “Come to bed, Aur,” he says, releasing her hand. “Before you freeze.”
Aureia shoots him a look, her lips twisting as she tries to contain her laughter, and crawls onto the bed. He shuffles over and together they snuggle down beneath the covers. The bed is narrow and there’s hardly enough room for the pair of them. The frame creaks horribly as they adjust, pressing close together to avoid the edges of the mattress. As she pulls the covers over them, she wonders idly whether she should have pushed another bed over for the extra room now he’s the only one left.
Too much work, she decides. She wants to be with him now, not later.
“There,” Thancred says as they cocoon themselves in the blankets. He rolls onto his side so they lie face-to-face, his eyes lingering on hers. “Better?”
She blinks. “I…”
“What’s wrong?” He brushes loose hair off her forehead. “Your mind is racing, I can see that plain as day.”
“It’s nothing. Too many thoughts—”
“Ah. The consequences of a brilliant mind.”
“—and none of them are important.”
She scans his face, a worried furrow appearing between her brows. Here, nestled together in the soft candlelight and the warm blankets, there is colour on his cheeks and a liveliness to his eyes. He seems almost the same as he was on the First. And yet she can sense the deep, yawning fatigue that pulls at every muscle in his body. It’s in the laugh lines around his eyes, the tension of his jaw, the strands of grey threaded through his pale hair. She knows she shouldn’t worry, that he will get better with time. The others did, so there’s a statistical likelihood to back it up.
Besides, Krile promised her. And she is not one to go back on her promises.
Thancred cups her cheek, his thumb running gently across her skin. “They do not seem unimportant,” he murmurs.
She smiles tentatively. “This bed is too small,” she says.
“Have you only just noticed?” He flashes her a wry grin. “And here I’ve been suffering for a moon. Unfortunate they’re all the same. All these beds to choose from and nary a difference among them. But there is a simple solution.”
“Oh?”
He threads his fingers in her hair. “Move closer.”
She smirks, her lips ghosting across his in a kiss that is not a kiss. A hungry groan rumbles in the back of his throat at her teasing promise, eager for the full kiss. He is content to wait, the anticipation of her lips on his growing as she moves beneath the covers. This push-pull between them is familiar, comforting, and they fall into it easily—like the steps of a dance they both know by heart. They’ve been dancing it for moons now.
“There. Is this close enough?”
He groans, low and eager. “Not quite.”
She throws an arm around him. Her fingernails snag on his smock as she pulls herself into him, breasts pressed tight against his chest. Her own rides up past her stomach as she throws a leg haphazardly over him and hooks it around his hips. His skin is enticingly warm against hers. It’s almost too hot beneath all the blankets, but there’s something alluring about the heat they’ve made.
“And this?” she breathes, her mouth a hair’s breadth from his.
That familiar rumble again. “Aye,” he says. “Any closer and we’ll be…”
His words disappear, swallowed by a small gasp as she rolls her hips, grinding against his groin. The response is immediate—he’s trembling and it is not from the cold. That has quite evaporated.
“Aur… Twelve take me, I…”
His chest is heaving against hers, as if all the vigor and vibrance he had on the First has come rushing back to him in an instance.
“Do you want this tonight?” she asks quietly. He has given her all the signs, the kiss on the battlements making his yearning for her clear. But still she must ask. Her desire for physical intimacy is fickle and as changeable as the wind; sex is not often a need she needs fulfilled. But he is not her, and his desires sing a different tune. She is glad for that, appreciative of their differences and the way they have found a rhythm that satisfies and compliments them both. Even if she has no immediate desire for sex, she will never tire of the effect she has on him.
He pauses, strangely quiet. He is still shaking.
Aureia presses her forehead against his. She shifts her weight, pulling back to leave a space between them. “We can wait if you’re too tired. I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready—”
He growls. “Gods, no. Not a moment more or I may risk losing my godsdamned mind.”
She kisses him—hard, fast and fervent, making good on her promise. Her lips part and her tongue is in his mouth, drawing aching sounds from him she hasn’t heard in moons. It’s the kind of messy, open kiss that can only serve to stoke his desire. He’s hard as she rolls against him, his cock pressed against his lower abdomen.
His fingers tighten in her hair and he pants, murmuring his next against her lips between kisses. “By the Twelve, Aureia, do you have any idea how torturous it has been being away from your bed every night?” he breathes.
She chuckles, her teeth scraping across his lower lip. “Torture?” she returns, shifting again. He groans with protest and she slips a hand between them, pulling a long stroke across his cock. “Well, then that is certainly something we must fix.”
This is all hyperbole, of course. It isn’t unusual for them to spend weeks apart, occupied with their individual tasks and interests. On the First, their work often took them in different directions and she suspects it will be no different on the Source. What little private time they can get, they carve out for themselves.
“Shall I tell you what has occupied my mind at night?” he says, his voice low. He slips a hand beneath her smock, skimming a palm across her stomach. Strong and certain fingers brush her breast, enjoying the fullness. “Every night since our return, thoughts I could never express in polite company?”
A delighted shiver rolls down her spine. “You have a good imagination,” she murmurs, pulling idle strokes up and down. It’s awfully gratifying to have him in her hand, to play with him like this. She relishes in his expressions, the way he holds himself back. It’s the part he enjoys the most—toeing the line of how long he can go before she pushes him over the brink. “Give me a taste of it.”
He growls and kisses her messily, his lips roaming across her jaw. “An old dream that has stayed with me since one particular night in Norvrandt,” he says, his voice throbbing in her ear.
“A particular night?”
“Aye. I suspect you know the one.” His hand sears hot against her breast, toying with it. “Does Good Jenanna’s Grace ring a bell?”
She bites her lower lip, stifling a husky laugh. The memory of that night in Il Mheg can easily put a flush on her cheeks. “What was the dream?”
His hand is still on her breast when his lips finds the soft spot beneath her ear. A smallest of kisses, the gentlest of pressure, and desire runs hot in her veins. A moan escapes her.
“I dreamed of what we would do when we returned to the Source,” Thancred begins, kissing her again and sucking gently at the hollow of her throat.
Aureia shakes beneath his touch and momentarily relaxes her grip on him, her mind flooded with all the ways they could end this. The pleasurable ache between her legs wants nothing more than to take him within her now and ride him to an exhausted end, but the temptation subsides. There’s something too wonderful to define about being snuggled up against him like this. The lazy way their hands are on each other, the idleness of their kisses…
She wants it to last. She needs it to last. She underestimated how good it feels to be caressed like this.
“At night,” he continues. “At day. Whenever it took our fancy—”
She rolls her hand down his cock, tugging lightly at the end, and his words evaporate into a groan. A pleasurable shudder passes through him and his other hand tangles in her hair. “Whenever?” she prompts, smiling at the wetness gathered at his tip.
“There was a certain scenario, shall we call it, in my mind,” he murmurs, his voice raw as she slicks the wetness across her fingers. “Involving a suite in the Rising Stones—”
“A suite?”
“A small one.”
She smirks and strokes the head of his shaft. A rasping gasp escapes him and his lips tighten achingly against her neck. He will leave a mark, no doubt.
“I know which one. Third floor. Currently empty and unclaimed, but for the sake of this pretend that it is ours. Picture a study.”
“Heavy desk, stone walls, high windows?”
“Something akin to that, aye.”
“Done. What’s next? You and me, I gather?”
He buries his face in the crook of her neck. His chest rises unevenly, his breath turned ragged. “Aye. And the way I imagined it, to be returned to my body proper, my self made whole…” He moans, losing himself for a moment as she presses her fingers against his tip and squeezes. He yanks involuntarily at her hair—a sharp, pleasurable ache. It’s good. It means he’s falling apart at her touch. “I imagined that when such a time came, there would be nothing to stop me from making ardent love to you in every way I know how.”
She chuckles huskily and slips her free hand between them. “Every way?”
A low growl rumbles in his throat. “Close your eyes.”
She does as he requests, eyelids fluttering as he flicks a thumb across her nipple.
“Picture the wall.”
“Pictured.”
“I’ve had a desire for quite some time to have you against one.”
A mischievous smile tugs at her lips. “Is that so?” She runs her palm across his stomach, past weathered skin and rough scars, and traces his inner thigh. All the while she continues her slow strokes, savouring his growing pleasure. “Interesting. I’ve always wanted you to take me against one. Perhaps we should have talked about this sooner. What did you have in mind?”
#i am nervous sharing this since my smut needs to be buried in a completed fic#this whole chapter reminded me how much i love writing established relationships#it's going to need so many edits though#anyway - married aureia + thancred make me feral goodbye#aureia malathar#writing tag#i don't have a spicy tag maybe i need to make one
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Chapter 2 - Excerpt 4
This excerpt and Chapter 2 - Excerpt 5 aren't going to be so action-packed, but Chapter 2 - Excerpt 6... well, that's when Land of Magic really begins. That is all I'm saying.
“Lila!” I called as I ran down the stairs. “Lila!”
Lila ran to the foot of the stairs completely clad in yoga attire, headphones on her ears, and a high ponytail on her head. And was that... was that a sweatband?
“Cassidy just called,” I informed her.
Lila went rigid, and I very nearly groaned aloud. I’d completely forgotten that Lila thought her sister still hated her. “What did she say?” she asked.
“Nothing about you,” I said, trying to sound as gentle as possible, “but a lot about Knightville.”
Lila’s shoulders relaxed for a small second before tensing again. “What about Knightville?”
And so I told her everything Cassidy told me, showing Lila the maps of Rhode Island. I myself had spent half an hour looking through these maps, one by one, and not a single label on any of them read ‘Knightville’. Cassidy had even sent me screenshots of Google searches on Knightville, where, sure enough, the only item was a ghost town in Utah. And I was pretty sure that if she had had the time, she would have sent every file of every well known geography book or atlas there was. Cassidy had known what she was talking about.
“B-but I-” Lila seemed to be at a loss for words. “what-how, I mean... I-if Knightville,” she breathed in, “doesn’t exist, or-or if the world doesn’t know Knightville exists...? Then where are we? No, how are we here? I-I... none of this makes sense!”
“Lila,” I said patiently, “you’re right; what Cassidy told us makes no sense, and I am just as confused as you are, but right now, I need you to be calm, or at least as calm as you can be right now, please.”
Lila, still breathing hard, looked at me, really looked at me for the first time, and gave a small smile. “You’re being so calm right now.”
I smiled back. What Lila didn’t know was that I wasn’t, in fact, calm. There was a tangled mess of questions, confusion and bewilderment at the back of my brain that I couldn’t afford to look at right just then; if I did, I would lose it completely, and losing it wasn’t an option. I would have to think logically.
And so I said the first thing my brain’s logic could think of: “We should leave Knightville.”
Lila opened her mouth and froze, as if she’d forgotten something entirely and my statement had just triggered her memory.
After a full ten seconds, she said, “we can’t.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
Lila looked at me, slightly dazed with horror. “Because we can’t. We couldn’t even if we tried.”
“But,” I protested, “you went out of town today, remember? To check out a bookstore for me?”
“I lied,” she said simply, “I wanted to, sure, but I just... couldn’t.” She suddenly steeled her posture, grabbed at my arm in a death grip, and started walking me out of the house, saying, “I can’t explain it. You need to see it for yourself; it’s not far.”
“What’s not far?” I asked as I followed her.
Lila didn’t respond as she opened the front door, dragged me out into the chilly night, and left it open. She was walking briskly, with purpose, and every step she took seemed to be a warning of what she was about to show me.
We walked along Scarlett’s house. It was dark, and almost invisible in the shadows, it’s age and overall shabbiness managing to make it look even creepier than Bleak House. I almost wouldn’t have even noticed it, if I didn’t know it wasn’t there.
We crossed it before I could think about exactly what that meant.
And that was when I started to feel it. The strangeness. The discomfort. It was like walking around in a room you’d never been in before when you’re blind and it’s dark. It was the chilly feeling of being in the very place you’re not supposed to be.
Foreign air on foreign ground with foreign soil.
Why was this feeling so exactly similar to the one I’d had when we came to Knightville?
********************************
Lila
We were nearing the end of town. Kenneth still looked oddly calm – a little uncomfortable, maybe – but still composed, the way he almost always did, as though he was the grown-up and I was the kid he needed to take care of. But the fact remained that I was still 19 years older than him, and that I wasn’t supposed to mess up, but I did.
It had been a mistake to move to DC in the first place. We were supposed to detach ourselves from family of any kind. We’d stayed there too long, and I knew it.
And here we were, me and my son, in the one place we weren’t supposed to be.
As we walked, the silence stretched miles long. Kenneth wasn’t asking any questions, which was a relief; I couldn’t answer any right just then. If I was in a normal state of mind, maybe I would’ve wondered why, considering what Cassidy had told him.
But what I needed to show him was important, if I could just find it.
The place was easy to find. It just went along the road, no turns, no tricky lanes. Just a straight path to the end of town. The exact place was marked by a tree, and that was also easy to find, because there were no other trees there.
I stopped when we had finally arrived, and turned to look at Kenneth, who was gangly like his father. He looked at me questioningly.
I breathed in, and gestured for him to take a few more steps.
And he did just that, slowly, for a few seconds... until he stopped. He couldn’t go any further.
And neither could I.
He frowned, and held his hand up in the air, which pressed against something invisible, like a wall.
His eyes widened in transparent shock, as he slammed both hands against it, slowly first, and then faster, more desperately.
“Lila...” he turned to me, and the look on his face washed me in guilt, “what-”
“This is why we can’t leave,” I said, my voice clearer than I thought it’d be, “there’s this... this Wall surrounding the entire town. I’ve spent the better part of half-an-hour trying to find a way to get out, but there isn’t any.”
Or at least, I had been told beforehand that there wasn’t any.
Kenneth combed his messy red-brown hair back with his fingers, trying to breathe measuredly, eyes closed and face turned to the cloudy sky, so I knew that he was trying to think.
I myself refused to think, instead just listlessly staring at what lies beyond the border; the continuation of the path, the sun, the people, the world. I had brought us here; had trapped us. This was my fault. I had told myself I would not think even then.
But then one single, solitary, mournful thought entered my head nonetheless.
Why, oh, why hadn’t I listened to David?
Enjoy!
Taglist: @jeahreading, @mayaheronthorn, @damn-this-transgirl-hella-gay, @margareturtle, @tys-kitty. The only ones who ever like my posts.
#Land of Magic#Chapter 2 - Excerpt 4#Indigo Isles#Writing#Novels#Tumblr Novels#Writerblr#Writing stuff#Writers on Tumblr
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