Hello ! My name is Aries previously @heavnlybursts but idr my account login and I want a new page so… here we are! My sun sign is an aries (who would have thought) with a rising virgo and scorpio moon. I wish I had the brain cells to read books again so pray that I get those back! Hm let’s see… also I love raccoons. That’s my brief intro! AWEKLFJAWLFAEF. Okay moving on.
GENRES I WRITE
I write fantasy , young adult , diverse , contemporary , fiction , adventure , action , poetry , anything really ! but those are favorites to delve into . and i’m always hoping to expand what i do .
SOCIAL MEDIA
personal twitter @/passionbootys
personal tumblr @/passionbooties
AO3 @/starbooms
CURRENT WIPS
They’re coming soon… but i have a BUNCH of OCS I’m ready to talk about and drabble for hehehe.
THE END - THANKS FOR READING ! Hope to get to know and meet some INCREDIBLE writers !
THE COURT OF DUSK, bordering the icy lands of esiros, their pools are limited, one for every major city. their lords dwell in the darkest of caverns, with the brightest nitrtime to lead the way. their crest is a towering mountain with a nitrtime star in the center. their magic centers on the earth, the stagnant water, the creatures of the mountain halls.
tag list ( dm to add/remove ) : @writemares, @sunnydrops, @pechaes, @fablemancy
here are some faulty ruin kiddos ! they didn’t ask to be reincarnated into powerful beings that hold the fate of the world in their hands, but hey? that’s gotta be a great resume booster somewhere right?
GIVE UP ( @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt # #fff76 ! ) - featuring adore going through her ARC training <3 / word count: 473 / rating: e for everyone !
The sword fell from her grasp. Clattered on the floor while Adore was brought to her knees. Every nerve of her body sung unholy tunes of wreckage. Her bones ached deeper than she’s ever felt-and she’s pulled all nighters in a shitty, cheap chair in her school’s library. That ache hit different. But this? The way her muscles screamed and her blood howled-this was an entirely different monster ripping her apart at the seams.
Her back was on fire.
Nel gazed down. Her eyes were lush green but when they met Adore’s she felt nothing but the bite of frigid cold turn her sweat to ice.
“Do you surrender?” Nel pressed her blade under Adore’s neck. She breathed heavily. Her throat throbbed from dryness. Her back still burned. “You struggle to even call forth your wings. This is not your battle, beloved.”
“Don’t call me that,” Adore bit out. Her lipstick smeared lips curled into a snarl. “I don’t need wings to beat you.”
“Is that so?” Nel dismissed her with a few simple words. And Adore saw red.
Adore did not know the meaning of giving up. To concede victory before exhausting all possible choices that led to her success? She’d rather lose all her baby hairs. Defeat did not know her, and she did not know it. Losing was not in her vocabulary. Adore did not do failure. Those legacy kids who thought nothing of her. Who saw her as someone clinging onto the affirmative action ladder. Who saw her weaponizing her diversity to get into spaces that were tailored for them, and never for her. As if she didn’t work to the bone to sit where they sat. As if she didn’t learn the trick of the networking trade to make sure her name was always brought up in spaces she had yet to enter.
She did not need wings. She did not need flight. She was capable, all on her own. She knew this. Victory is etched on her tongue. It’s written into the fibers of her skin. It’s burned into the sharp gaze she reflected back at Nel. Who only raised an eyebrow in response. Whose lips barely twitched. Whose blade pressed an inch deeper into her neck.
“I like that look,” Nel said.
“You talk too much,” Adore reached for her sword and pushed herself to a standing position. Her grip on the hilt burned into her palm.
She would not relent.
“Again,” Adore commanded.
Nel looked her over once, her eyes the only part of her body that moved. Moments passed. All Adore could hear was the roaring of her blood. The heavy rattles of her breath as she gathered herself for another brawl. The burning upon her back would not hold her back-she would not allow it.
roevi knew another language. a language of madness. she would kneel to her victims like a mother tending to their child. in their ear, is where she’d begin whispering them down to their descent. holding them as her voice broke you and broke you and broke you. whispering as she picked apart all the walls of stability and shattered them. it was beautiful, in a way. the way she cradled those poor souls as she drove them to the brink of no return.
tag list: @cerbyphobic @reeseestrellabooks + anyone else! if you’d like to be tagged either comment or dm me!
kerevri stepped forward. the earth cracked beneath his feet. “oh what the fuck? what the fuck is this? oh-” he cackled. head thrown back. it boomed. it rattled. roman didn’t quite get the joke. “boss man. boss man come on. this is funny. you half reincarnated. if this wasn’t such a major problem i’d grab eura and tell her to write this down for the records immediately.”
THE FOURTH HERALD: TIRATH (OF DESTRUCTION. OF FEAR).
“roman,” eraryos lazily stirred his coffee with roman’s favorite mug. yet hadn’t taken a single drink in the twenty minutes they’ve spent in apocalypse’s office. “i rather like this mug.” he brings the mug to his lips, eyes twinkling. “i will be taking your mug. without shame and without remorse. you’re welcome for the warning.”
roman went to argue, but the last time he did that eraryos made sure to show how little his aim waivered to hit the mark. so he sunk into his chair and made a mental funeral for his beloved mickey mouse mug.
tag list: @cerbyphobic @reeseestrellabooks @kowlazovdi + anyone else! if you’d like to be tagged either comment or dm me!
tirath plucked the flower from the offered bouquet. she turned the rose in her hand over and over. then twirled it around her fingers. as she did, the petals began to wilt. from brilliant red to a beautiful black. one by one the petals fell. the stem wilted. and life, once more, came to an end.
she handed back the flower - now even more radiant than before she touched it. she smiled at the look at horror she was met with. smiled so hard the cheeks of her Vessel hurt. years ago she hated such a look - now, she revels. “i suppose your offer for dinner still stands?”
tag list: @cerbyphobic @reeseestrellabooks @kowlazovdi + anyone else! if you’d like to be tagged either comment or dm me!
the heralds (noun): they are a piece of apocaylpse . a selection of souls who were chosen for a simple purpose ——— to serve + destroy.
there are four of them. four pillars that rise as apocalypse rises. that sets when apocalypse sets. who carry their weapons and shatter the earth in the name of destruction + devestation.
1. they are the wrath of humanity popping out from flesh and dragging the earth into centuries of war. for wrath is simply divine justice / and order must be served.
2. they are the torment of the mind, the spirit, the body. they will unravel this world from the inside out with nightmares. for torment is chaos / orchestrated and hauntingly beautiful in its spiral.
3. they are the famine that will ravage this planet. that will reopen wounds and make them fester and pop and bleed and bleed. the veins of this earth grappled in the roots of the trees and in the system of the human body will know starvation. for famine is disease / it spreads and spreads until there is nothing but dirt.
4. they are destruction. systematic and purposeful. a complete collapse of civilizations. it is an artform and they have perfected this particular brand of ruination until there are no faults. until the whispers start turning into screams. for destruction is fear / fear of what was and is to come.
they are the heralds. and with apocalypse’s ascension , so they appear. and so they begin their divine work.
thank you at @writingamongthecoloredroses for the last line tag. i enjoyed reading yours so much! so now, here’s mine!
“Not to be that person,” Roman absolutely meant to cause problems, “but you act so high and mighty for a being that lives rent free in people’s heads. You live inside a human. Doesn’t that make you one of us?” he paused, because wait. He had something. His brain cells were formulating a jump in reasoning. “Why are you even doing this?”
Apocalypse knew what he meant. That was another thing about being Vessel and Host-Apocalypse understood his mind, the things he meant when he didn’t say them, intimately.
“It is my purpose.”
The simplicity of Apocalypse’s answer made Roman lose his mind.
“I’m-Oh my fuck. HAHA!” he shook his head, laughter bubbling forth against his will. “Your purpose. It’s your purpose.”
“Did I stutter, Vessel?”
“Roman.”
“Your name bears no significance to me. You’ll no longer exist once we fix the cycle.”
@santinas @astorsa @eisheeta @indeliblewrites @reeseestrellabooks + anyone else who’d like to do this!
