euphoria;

[ DEAD MEN PAY THEIR DEBTS ]

                               ↳  SIERRA HAWKES

The door creaks as Casey closes it behind him. The two of them walk down the hallway and into the living room. 

Sierra sits at a table, her head propped on her arms as she pores over a book. Casey rolls his eyes as he spots her. 

“Thought you was in bed,” he grumbles as he pulls off his coat and throws it over the nearest chair. “You need your sleep, Sierra.” 

“Need t’finish this book,” she mumbles, her voice heavy with sleep. She pushes her glasses farther up her face and squints over at him. She hasn’t changed either, Jesse thinks to himself fondly. “Who are you again?” she asks him.

SLOOM, celebratory excerpt – 20,722 words.   psd by @saorisea

     “Do we need this many?”  Oliver calls from beneath her on the fourth trip upwards, the third cut short when Ramona’s shaking muscles forced her to climb back down. 

    To the crooning of his voice she finally finds a platform of rock able to hold her.  Large enough to contain multitudes of wood and mushrooms as well, oozing the faint musty and pleasant scent of earth as she forces herself up the last few inches with trembling arms and sore fingers.   

    Ramona’s pants grow damp from the water collected in every patch of moss she sits upon.  Thick and far more wet the higher up and less trod upon.  With dirt packed under her nails and a faint slime from wet mushrooms sticking to her calluses, she laughs.  A bright, strong sound that surprises herself more than the priest below her with head tilted back and eyes squinted.  

    “This time it’s not a matter of need.”  Ramona calls back down to him, vision blurred by the strands of hair come loose over time.  Sweat sticks them to her skin.  Tattoos she has no interest in cleaning off of herself yet, never mind the mild irritation that prickles in her guts at every itch and shift.  

    Down below, Oliver’s face shifts.  She thinks he’s smiling.  Imagines it’s as flooded with annoyance and tempered with that ever present kindness he can’t seem to purge himself from.  Is he sick of her?  Entertained by the fact that he wants to be?  “Everything is a matter of need.  I don’t want to wipe out your crop here.”

    “If you think you can wipe it out,” Ramona says, “you have too much faith in yourself.  Those ones I told you were no good to cut — those are spored.  They’ve given birth already and with every step we’re burying the spores even deeper.”

    With a roll of her wrist she snaps a large bunch of maitake from the shard of log pushing against her thigh.  The sound is rich and deep, kin a bone breaking beneath ten thousand layers of cotton and just as dreamy.  She tucks it into her bulging backpack.  Not particularly weighty, comfortable, and she turns it over in her grip for a moment before peering between her swinging legs.

    “Can you catch this?”

    Oliver pauses.  “Probably — but don’t hold it against me if I let it fall.”

    “No, you’ll hold it against yourself.  Wasting things isn’t godly, is it?”  Ramona asks.  Without waiting for answer, she drops the back down.  

    Spiraling over itself once, twice, before it lands with a faint thumping in Oliver’s arms.  She’s not sure what’s more amusing between the muffled noise itself or the surprise on his face.  How he shifts it from hand to hand, some bend to his wrist but nothing to speak of strain beyond the excess power he’s built up in his arms for absolutely nothing.

    “I assumed it would be heavier.”  He calls up to her.

    “No,” Ramona says with an amusement tainting her words, “but that explains the panic I thought I saw flare in your eyes.”

    “There wasn’t any panic.”

deaths hand reintroduction: valeska jelínková

There was still a disconnect between what Valeska had heard and what she could understand and part of her, a stupid, wishful part of her hoped that it was false. That she’d misheard or misunderstood and that the man in front of her was still someone good. “I know,” she said, voice cold and detached. 

“Know what? Really, you brought me all the way down here just to be cryptic?”

“No, Jakub, I know.” She forced herself to look at him, to not shy away. “I know what you did. To my home, to my family. I know everything.”

He froze and fear flashed across his face. Only for a moment, though, before it was replaced by his calculated calm. 

Jakub took a step forward, reached a hand forward to touch her arm. In the firelight he was like a different person. He wasn’t the clean cut soldier or the respectable prince, he was something unhinged. The light brought out the red in his hair, the amber of his eyes, it illuminated the hard planes of his face bringing light to his cracked nose and bruised eyes. Things he could hide in the light of day, but not in the dark of the catacombs. It was how she’d liked him best; but instead of turning her blood hot all she felt was ice.

“Valeska,” he licked his lips, letting her name hang in the air like a promise. “I cannot begin to let you know how sorry I–”

“No, I want to hear it from you, say it.” The silence was almost tangible. “Say it,” she screamed.

The pressure that had been building in her bones these past months, that had become her constant companion, was building. Like the onset of a migraine. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes, to curl up and give in, but that would not do. She’d made a promise over the body of a broken girl. No one, no man or god would bring her to break it. 

Jakub’s hold on her arm tightened. Keeping her in place, as though he was frightened she would lash out or flee at his words. “That day in Zadov, the day the bombs dropped, it was because of me. Because I told my Commander about the rebel movement.”

“You bastard,” she snarled, pushing him back as the dull pain, the tender promise of bruising, made its way through her arm. 

Jakub put his hands up, eyes wide in surprise. “Soyi,” he called, voice low and steady like he was taming a wild beast. “Calm down.”

She recoiled, the wall cold on her back, the dampness seeping through her clothes to meet skin. Her heart raced. It was cold and dark and damp and it was too much like that day in Zadov. The air was thick, heavy. Far too heavy and breath escaped her. 

The pressure was unbearable now. Like a prisoner rattling against the bars of their cell there was something inside her that wanted out. That wanted freedom. She could feel the cracks in her soul begin to deepen. Fissures became fractures became breaks and her vision began to swim in and out of a dream. 

One moment she was there, Jakub was there halfway between a confession and a plea for mercy, and the next she was hiding. The next she was back in Zadov and she could hear the explosions and the screams and taste the ash on her tongue and she couldn’t move. 

“Valeska,” Jakub called, but she could barely hear him. It was like listening to someone whilst underwater. Distorted and distant until his hand on her shoulder pulled her back into the present.

It was not a soft thing, the transition. The panic and despair that had already rooted itself in her heart was amplified and she felt surely that she was going to die. 

She lashed out. She closed her eyes, raked her nails across his arm, kicked her legs out and tried to retreat and that release opened something. His hands left her body and a crash echoed in the hall.

The pressure subsided.

All this time she had been afraid to delve too deep, to look too close for fear of what might happen. But the worst had already happened. The worst kept happening and there was no going back. 

It had been an endless well of void. Of deep, dark nothingness that threatened to consume her is she dared look too long. But it wasn’t nothing, she realised as she opened her eyes to find Jakub pinned against the far wall by a blanket of shadows, struggling for breath. It was power.

She took a step forward. And then another. Eyes roving over Jakub’s struggling form. She could feel his fear now. Taste it in the air like blood. 

“Valeska?”

“Hmm?”

“Could, could you let me go please?”

Somehow she knew how. There was an instinct in the base of her skull guiding her, and she called the darkness towards her. 

The shadows danced around her fingers. Smooth, graceful, gentle almost, yet underneath she could feel the power that controlled them. Something old. Something ancient. The only other time she’d felt this was when she was with Zovdi.

“Is that better?” Her voice was still cold, still detached, but dreamlike. She hadn’t recovered from the revelation and it was like her emotions had simply shut down rather than continue reliving that pain.

Jakub stayed flat against the wall, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “What the fuck was that?”

With the flick of her hand she sent the shadows over to him and laughed when he flinched away. 

“It’s my gift.” It made sense now. For months she had tried and failed to call Zovdi down again, to beg her to explain what she had given her. But the panic had released something primal in her, had broken down the barrier she built around herself, and now she knew.

Zovdi had given her the Darkness.

She walked towards Jakub with soundless steps and took his hand in hers. “Can you feel it? It’s always with me now, this darkness. This shadow we warn our children of.” He stared at her. He’d stared at her before yes, in amusement, in bewilderment, in anger, in lust. But never like this. Never with fear. She found she liked it. “He’s underneath my skin, and you should be afraid.”

“Why?” he choked.

Her gaze lifted from his hands to his eyes and she smiled. “Because we’re going to destroy you.”

if my wip was a tv series and had a cool ass opening credits sequence boi

this is purely self-indulgent i have no explanation for it

so fury’s reign is currently undergoing some plot reconsiderations, i’m taking a deeper look at my world building and the direction i want the series to go in, which may or may not completely change the current story depending on what i come up with. basically this series is my child and i want it to be the best it can be, and i want this world to be something with a lot of thought put into every aspect of it so it can seem as real as i’ve always envisioned it. i might cut some minor characters or shift them into a later book, and add some new ones, but above all else i want to be in a position where i feel confident in the story i want to tell… but obviously i made a completely unnecessary video first because screw priorities

fan casts:

kwak dong-yeon | himazaki ikeda

florence pugh | freyja abatangelo

adelaide kane | iera vonoris

harry richardson | oisín cary

reece ritchie | kasim al-ahin

zhu zhu | jin hé

naomi scott | dariya ja’ haddad

holliday grainger | lavinia caro

kylie bunbury | anahi habdahni

avan jogia | raghib ja’ haddad

alexander dreymon | edred stuert

bruna marquezine | lovissa farro

————

‘It is the story of a princess seeking to reclaim her birthright. It is the story of a son trying to live up to his father’s legacy. It is the story of a sorceress on a divine quest. It is the story of a dreamer refusing to be controlled. It is the story of a spy questioning her loyalties. It is the story of a boy who set out to remake the world.’

WIP Re-Introduction: The Crown of Palenia

Book 1 out of 5

Genre: adult epic fantasy

Themes: loyalty, truth, darkness, divinity, religion, revolution, monarchy, freedom, found family, friendship, betrayal

POV: six third-person POVs

Status: second draft

Length: 200,000-250,000

Blurb:

In a world where old gods are forgotten and magic is a scarce resource, a realm is on the verge of a civil war. The ruler is gravely ill, and the nobles see it s an opportunity to rise in power and ruin their enemies.

A princess returns from exile, determined to take back the crown she believes is hers by right of birth. She is aided by the young lord of one of the most influential noble houses, but unless they learn to trust each other, their case is doomed. Their political opponents push their own proteges towards the throne, ready to fight tooth and claw.

The unstable situation attracts the attention of foreign courts. A sorceress from a rival empire has set out to put a person she could control on the throne. But the noble in question dreams of travel and freedom, sick of his life being under the control of others.

Deep into the labyrinthine streets of the capital city, a spy saves a boy with undiscovered magic, and the two of them a dragged into the middle of a brewing revolution. She is torn between her loyalty to the noble house she serves and the desire to protect the boy’s only chance at escaping a life of servitude. But is she willing to let the revolution to grow undisturbed just to protect one person?

Through balls, duels, backstabbing, court intrigue, dark rituals, the six heroes must endure and keep going towards the glimpse of hope. For if they fail, they are in danger of losing their lives.

And in the shadows an ancient evil slumbers, ready to be awakened…

Cast:

The princess - Valary Au Dremal, 22

She is the granddaughter of the Exiled Queen of Palenia and raised to be queen. Valary will not rest until the crown is placed upon her head, for it is time Palenia was to be ruled by an Au Dremal again. And does it truly matter how many people she would have to sacrifice chasing her grand prize?

The son - Reynard Aurion, 26

His father’s untimely death has thrown Reynard right into trouble. If he fails to outsmart the other lords and ladies and make Valary queen, he will bring the demise of his house. And as if this wasn’t enough, someone is murdering his informants and threatening his own life.

The sorceress - Yasna Kossi, 36

As sorceress to the Empress of Nesmia and priestess of a forgotten god, Yasna has more than one goal to achieve in Palenia. Be it throwing seances for occult-loving nobles or killing people to fuel a dark ritual, she is ready to do anything.  

The dreamer - Brandowen Au Vaugn, 21

Court intrigue has never appealed to Bran, so the prospect of being put in charge of a country terrifies him. He would gladly say no, but he is left with no choice once the fate of his family is on the line. The man blackmailing him is powerful and greedy and unwilling to let go of his ambitions no matter the cost.

The spy - Rona Lamer, 26

She owes everything to House Aurion and is Reynard’s most loyal companion. But fate throws her in the way of the charismatic Leona, the leader of a secret rebellion, and Rona cannot possibly explain why she does everything in her power to hide the rebels from Reynard.

The boy - Arnoult Maveux, 15

CHARACTER INTRO: PHOEBUS APOLLO - stoneheart

He has granted many people the gifts of prophecy and vision over the years, but his favorite sibyls will always be Pythia of Delphoi… and Hyakinthos of Sparta.

i made some piccrews for some of my MC’s from Crown of Scales, Lark (left) and Farren (right)! they seem to be trending here so there you go :D 


piccrew


i made my boys (with this picrew)

1st row

felix sorroway (left) / erin choi (right)

2nd row

zhenya popov (left) / beaumont beauregard (right)

3rd row