wip intro: the woods
A small town. A murder. An experiment gone horribly wrong...
Lorien walks home from school, as usual. Then he finds himself in the woods outside town, with no memory of how he got there. And then he witnesses a murder.
Lorien and his friends decide to investigate the murder, hoping to find out why they were in the woods and how they lost their memories. They soon find themselves tangled up in a dangerous conspiracy - and then the three of them start seeing things they can't explain, and experiencing strange symptoms...
On the other side of town, Nahida is living in a poisoned house. Her faith is gone, her family broken - and she has no idea what’s caused it. Things are going missing, she hears strange noises at night...and then the lightning strikes.
The murder was just the beginning. The teenagers have been caught up in a dangerous experiment, and the only way to find answers is to go back into the woods - and confront the terrible thing that's hiding there.
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I’m really excited about this WIP! It’s a rehash of my old mountain WIP, hence the tag, but instead of being fantasy it’s set in the real world with a much grittier tone, more body horror and A MURDER. I’m having a great time writing the first draft and I really want to start posting excerpts as I write, sooo I thought I’d better explain the concept of the story.
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Crowley screamed for Her when he fell because She wasn't the one who cast him out, she couldn't have been; the love so bright it blinded him whenever he reached for it was real, is real, it has to be.
He did not scream for God or the Almighty, he cried for his Mother, the one who had smiled at him with a tenderness unlike any other and named him Starmaker.
They rushed by him, his stars, when he fell, colourful streaks blurred by the tears in his eyes as the grace defining his every cell left him, scream after scream. Crowley called for Her, seeing blinding white taking shape, and he dared to hope, stretching out an arm right before the flames of hell swallowed him whole.
In his weakest moments, curled up on the concrete of his balcony with his face bared to the sky, he tries to believe that a hand, slender and familiar, had been reaching for him. Tries to believe that She still loves him, that She never left him even though he left Her.
Crowley stretches one hand skywards, watching the stars twinkle between his fingers, and all he has left to offer is a whisper, the same question that ripped him away from everything good, everything light.
"Why?"
Every time, he asks. Every time, all he receives is silence, and then he waits until dawn washes away his creations. Crowley unfurls his wings on those mornings, presses them to cold concrete and metal in a doomed attempt to try and soothe the ever-present burn caught in his feathers.
If he closes his eyes, dizzy with uncried tears and cramping muscles, the morning sun slowly warming on his face, it almost feels like it did back then when he was tumbling through nebulae and constellations; rage and disappointment both so laced with fear they became one and the same.
Sometimes, when the tethers connecting him to hell and earth are two shackles holding him down, he thinks about flying as high as he possibly can just to let go and feel the air rushing through his feathers - so he can pretend there is nothing waiting for him, nothing but stars and more stars, and empty spaces for him to fill.
When he inevitably moves, his wings stiff but momentarily soothed, he remembers that he doesn't need to do anything at all to reclaim that feeling. It is enough to drive too fast with too much fizzling rage only to let himself be broken apart by his longing when Aziraphale is always, always an arm's length away.
Crowley lies on his back, the Bentley cold beneath him, one hand stretched out to the sky, reaching for the stars, reaching for him, his eyes violet, his lips familiar.
Sometimes he still thinks he can see Her reaching for him as his wings wither and his stars burn.
Sometimes he thinks he can see his angel looking back, his tears blinking comets burning up in the atmosphere.
Sometimes he thinks he never stopped falling.
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edit: now with amazing art by @ghoullerr 💚💚
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Meet Frerin, Thorin’s little brother and Crowned Prince of Erebor.
This is how he looks at the Roots for a Mountain universe 💅🏽✨ an AU in which he is very much alive, because I asked myself the question cowards dare not to ask: If hot, why dead? And so I made him survive Azanulbizar and fulfill his destiny as Erebor’s local royal flirt
Read the fic here!
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love that both versions of this wip have a big geographical feature tying the story together. original version has a thematically important mountain and the new version has some thematically important woods. brilliant
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West Continent (North to South)
Pale pink - Tian Yi Overlook territory
Pale green - Cang Qiong territory
Mid yellow - Huanhua Palace
Orange - Banyue desert
Purple - Zhao Hua Temple
Brown - West Demon Alliance
Dark Blue - East Demons Land
Bright blue - Northern Desert Kingdom
Beige - Southern Demon Tribes
East Continent (North to South)
Pale blue - Gusu Lan
Orange - Qishan Wen
Dark green - Qinghe Nie
Purple - Yunmeng Jiang
Yellow - Lanling Jin
Pale Red - Ghost City
Pink - Xian Le/Yong An Kingdoms
Red - Yiling/Tonglu (formerly Wu Yong Kingdom)
Central - Black Water’s Archipelago
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