♡ THE VAINGLORIOUS .ᐟ : a private ﹠ selective writing blog featuring evelyn “ evie ” d'entença, born of all - consuming thirst for perfection, carmine - stained hands, ﹠ merciless standards. kissed with a thorn - pricked touch. a tale of maintaining grace and kindness in cruel situations. a tragedy of the bleeding, falling swan. and the murder of self in the game of survival. portrayal is drawn from original lore, headcanons, ﹠ interpretations.
▍18+ only. mutually exclusive. softblock when breaking mutuals.
* i utilize memes as a way to write starters and initiate interactions. please do not send memes if you have no intention of continuing at least some of the ones i answer.
▍basic dni criterion apply, but specifically do not interact if you are a multi and primarily use east asian fcs ( especially if they are korean ) because that screams fetishization to me ( there are exceptions and it's pretty obvious when it's normal vs gross behavior. i'm east asian and the way some of y'all treat east / southeast asians is atrocious. ); write historical or real muses; use youtubers/influencers as fcs; and / or solely focus on sexual nsfw / fetishizing mlm.
* by default, expect most potentially triggering content to be referenced in some way or form on this blog. evie's story as a basis across any universe heavily revolves around body image, self - hatred, parental abuse, self - abuse.
▍while this blog is multiship, and while evie tends to become infatuated with those who gives her the bare minimum, i prefer to explore other dynamics, including but not limited to : antagonistic, platonic, familial.
* the droyi coire and venkari lore presented on this blog, while inspired by numerous media sources, is original and completely created by myself and tas. please do not steal anything. we'd love for more people to make verses in either world, so please don't hesitate to ask one of us!
▍macy, she / her, 24, discord avail for mutuals. i have the worst habit of blog hopping or disappearing due to irl, so you can always find me on my multi otherwise.
* i've written ev since 2015 and she has grown with me through the years. while i do still have her canon verse available upon request, she has been written more as an original character than anything after 2021. i don't own her origins, but i do own any developments made that were not fanon or canon.
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i was talking about this the other day but evie really is a sweetheart. she is a kind, graceful, forgiving, and a patient being. she really is incredibly warm and gentle. i've focused more on the parts of her that would come out in moments of stress or if the dynamic called for it because while she IS like the above, she's also insanely vain and has a tendency to be mean. i think very much like evie, getting that balance is a struggle but it's sooo fun to explore
HOWL J. PENDRAGON ⅋ EVELYN D'ENTENÇA ﹙ . . . ﹚ “ IT WOULD NEVER WORK BETWEEN US. ” ⊹₊⋆ @poisiyn .
brows furrowed at the words of ... rejection ? howl couldn't be sure, so unused to hearing such words on tone as sweet as sugared honey, lilt of her voice dancing between them just above the noise created by the patrons of the pub they'd settled in. then, glassed jades flickered with a mild amusement, his intrigue suggested in the way the wizard cocked his head, earring swaying and catching the low lamp - light with a slight shine, and the beginnings of the smile that had started to lift the corners of his lips, crinkle at his under - eye. “ why's that ? ” a slow gesture of bringing his glass to his lips, studying her over the rim of it before placing it back. so often used to hearing himself form this age - old excuse, it would never work, i'm simply too much for you, i can't give you what you desire ... to have his own phrase turned back on himself presented quite the painful blow to his ego, and one that wouldn't leave a bruise left un - investigated. distantly, he could reconcile with the notion that their shared beauty posed a challenge - both of them would hog every mirror and find themselves quite favourable, and they would never be on time with the state of dress they kept themselves heightened to, and then there was power, that howl could feel bristling between them something undeniably strong indeed, would she have thought he found it undesirable ? ... he couldn't be sure. “ this is the part where you soften the blow by telling me, hm. maybe that you think i deserve better ... ” slow drawl of words, the lift of his shoulder and the slight shake of his head. “ but you wouldn't be able to believe it yourself, would you ? ”
“ isn't it obvious ? ” she hardly spared him a glance, honeyed irises instead fixated on the peachy concoction that swirled in her glass, small bubbles fizzing around the rim, its scent delicately sweet. she would drink it if not for the fact that she knew most of the pubs nowadays had their fill of alcohol that she could not handle, laced with a tonic strong enough to lull a beast to sleep. the pad of her pointer instead lined the rim, as though unamused and otherwise bored. the only saving grace was the surprise in his tone that she managed to catch, the microexpressions that she'd searched for before pretending she couldn't bother looking his way. and then she was turning to face him, legs crossed at the knee, posture straightened as though ready for a portrait. curious gaze drifted from those well-maintained locks of his that she couldn't admit to envying, the flush on his cheeks whether from his drink or the rising heat in such a small, crowded space.
a slow hum filled her throat as she released the sound, something melodic and taunting, akin to a siren's song sans the lethality. or perhaps something close enough. “ well, there is no one better than me. ” crimson petals twitched, hint of a smile peeking through. “ you will simply just have to settle, i can only offer you the utmost honesty i am capable of. ” leaning forward the slightest, enough to see more clearly the light in his eyes, the buzzing that reverberated between the two of them, and she nudged her drink towards him suggestively. “ you don't even believe it will work, either. you're a little liar whose pants are about to be on fire. ” a pause. “ what do you think is in this drink ? ” / @qismet
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i try to channel evie's grace and diplomacy when dealing with my housemates but i can feel myself tweaking and twitching and turning into my rightful form: beast ben
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she has been here many times before. it feels like a dream, because usually she comes to visit when the weather had entered its next stage. an endless landscape of white. snow would settle on her shoes, listening quietly with the wisdom of one who never stops seeing. a soft wind whispers through her, tells secrets to the pines ominously towering above her. she know that every time she is here, she is never entirely alone, as something is always watching. or someone, really. her very own friend, ailun. in the end, zaetia is cold in the way narbarad is warm. a chill permeates the air whenever one walks by: a cold, unnerving chill, not unlike being thrown headfirst into a bucket of cold water. it is not the coldness of winter and the absence of heat, but the coldness of solitude. it is the kind of cold one does not want to run from, even if one's mind is telling them to. her thoughts leave her, however, as she listens to evie with a gentle smile. she takes no offence, she rarely does. it had just slightly amused her. `` unique, you say? `` she chuckles. she nods her head at the word. `` it's a funny story, really. my nephew wished to dress me before i left. `` a pause. `` which explains the patterns, i suppose. he does need some advice on tailoring, especially when it comes to the attention to detail. `` she grins. `` but who am i to deny him? ``
gloved finger adjusted her glasses, lenses already dusted with frost, turning the world into something distant, something safe. something to be seen with uncertainty. snow crunched as she shifted, weight rolling lazily from one foot to the other, gaze flicking over the riot of mismatched patterns with something like amusement, something like resigned horror. “ ah. ” vermillions twitched, glossy and filled with hesitation before the words were already spilling, “ your nephew is either fearless or plotting against you. ” a jest, lips quirking upwards, the wind already beginning to change into a sharpness between trees, chills lining the strip of her spine, restlessness shaking her. not the cold of winter, but something else. something waiting. fingers twitched at her side, instinct curling behind them, and she tilted her head, listening — not just to the wind, not just to the space between her words, but to whatever had been lingering in the quiet. the weight of it was familiar, an old presence at the edge of perception, like looking at the stars too long and realizing they were looking back.
“ we will retire to my rooms at some point, if you will allow me to save you from such a spectacle. ” something of reassurance, teasing laced in her words. there was a deluded sense of comfort, only to be thwarted by her own concerns. “ my mother has grown suspicious, these days. i may not be the performer we think i am. at least not in these times. ” and there it was, that final observation finally stated aloud, a heaviness weighing in the air. / @alveyiat
