#eveninglottie

[ignitesthestxrs]

eveninglottie replied to your post “YO WHAT’S UP NERDS”

oh HAI I literally have nothing to add today but I wanted to say hello anyway so helloooo

i love and accept this :*

[cedarmoons]

31 and 32 for the bluebird Ziah <3

31. Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.

She wonders if there is a way to stop time. Were it possible, she thinks, she would stop it right here—watching Asra chase little Lizbet across the beach, both of them laughing, while Korra attempts to build an increasingly complex simulacra of the palace. Faust is curled beside her, larger than most dog breeds, hidden by her own magic to all but Ziah and her family.

Family.

She smiles, blinking hard, and watches Asra catch up to Lizbet. She watches him grab her and hoist her into the air, laughing as Lizbet shrieks, as he carries her off to the shoreline and tosses her into the ocean, where Evander is already waiting. Laughing, he catches her, and they both go underwater; Ziah watches as they emerge moments later, both sputtering, and Lizbet does her best to tackle him, giggling uncontrollably, trying to get him back underwater.

Asra trots back to them, pausing a moment to compliment Korra’s palace, and collapses in the sand beside her, breathing hard. “Lizzie’s run me out,” he says. “I can’t move. Wait.”

He shifts closer beside her, slinging an arm over her hip and tugging her forward, until he is pressed against her side and resting his head over her heart. “Okay,” he sighs, “now I can’t move.”

Ziah laughs, running her hand through his wet, sand-speckled hair. Her shirt is getting wet, sticking to her skin, but she finds she does not mind. She looks up, watching Korra lose interest in her project in favor of splashing toward Evander and Lizbet, and feels Asra kiss her throat, nuzzling against her.

“I did not think I would ever have this,” she confesses, still carding her fingers through his hair. “I am grateful for it. I love you, Asra.”

“Mm. Love you,” he murmurs. “And them.” He lifts himself up, resting on an elbow, reaching out to scratch Faust under the chin when she lifts her head toward him. When she returns to her coils, satisfied, he leans against her, and she does not stiffen under his weight. Instead she settles back on the sand and reaches up, cupping his cheek in her palm.

“What do you think about adopting more?” he asks, turning his head to kiss her palm. “I think the house can fit a few more rooms if we ask nicely.”

“If you ask nicely,” she corrects, and he laughs, dipping down to kiss her.

“EW!” one of their children screams from the ocean. “GROSS!”

Asra laughs again, cheeks dimpling, nose nuzzling against hers. Ziah grins, heedless of her crooked teeth. She lifts her hand, threads his hair between her fingers, and pushes herself up to kiss him again. They’re almost smiling too much to kiss each other properly, but when they part, she whispers, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, let’s adopt more,” she clarifies. Asra laughs, kissing her again, and she hopes—foolishly or not—that this moment will last forever.

32. Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.

The customer’s arrogance radiates from him, a sickening aura of gold. He had leaned on the glass counter after claiming he was “just looking around,” and has been watching her take inventory of their soaps for the past fifteen minutes. The weight of his gaze makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Black hair, red robes, grey eyes.

“Are you going to buy something?” Asra finally drawls, from where he is sitting across the shop, idly playing solitaire with her tarot cards. Ziah’s exhale is small, one of relief; he hears it, of course he does, and sends her a look across the room, his mouth curving into a faint frown. Faust is beside him, coiled in her coffee mug, her small head resting on the enamel rim.

“Oh, of course, of course,” the customer drawls. “I was just wondering if I could get the blue-haired beauty’s name.”

Ziah stiffens. Her mouth works in silence, and after a moment, she turns away, discreetly buttoning up the open neckline of her shirt. She hears the customer’s weight shift on the floorboards as he straightens and crosses the storefront, coming uncomfortably close to her.

“Get away from her,” Asra says, voice low, tight.

Ziah goes silent and still, hands still on two bars of lavender soap, perched above the basket. She steels her arms so that the customer will not see the tremble in her left hand, and clamps her jaw shut until her teeth ache. She tries not to think of another long gone standing uncomfortably close to her, leering down—

“What’s your name, darling?” the man purrs.

The customer touches her, fingers brushing against the small of her back, and she flinches violently away with a gasp, dropping the soaps and pressing herself against the wall. The customer’s brow furrows in confusion, but before he can say anything, Asra is there, standing between him and Ziah.

Her heart is hammering, stomach twisted into a cold knot, bile rising in the back of her throat. She hears nothing as Asra gets the customer outside, disappearing into the street, and sinks to the floor, holding her shaking left hand to her chest, tucking her knees under her body so her skirt hides all of her.After a moment, with trembling hands, she unrolls her sleeves from her elbows, fastening the buttons so the sleeves cuff at the wrist.

Eventually, Asra comes back, and at the sight of her young apprentice her racing heart begins to calm. She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep, shaky breath, fingers curling into the fabric of her light shirt.

“Master,” Asra starts, hesitant.

“I have told you I am not your master!” she snaps, hyperventilating now. Asra flinches, lowering his gaze to the floor.

Child, Tiamat says. Ziah looks to the fountain, where the wyrm is hidden away deep and safe, and sucks in a breath. She instructs Asra to close his eyes, and he does, turning away. Once she is certain he will not look, she grabs her bag from behind the counter and opens it, bringing it to the fountain. Tiamat emerges, solidifying from her mist form, and crawls into the bag, coiling safe at the bottom.

“You may look now,” she says. Asra opens his eyes, rising to his feet from where he had crouched before her.

“Are you okay?” he asks, brows quirking. She looks away from him and swallows. Her left hand aches.

“I am going to the forest, to clear my head,” she says. “I will be back before nightfall.”

“Ziah—” Asra starts, but she is already gone.

[kitcorin]

Happy b-day, @eveninglottie ! I love love love your work and your characters and I wanted to draw you something, even if it was a quick colored sketch! Roslyn is amazing and so are you. I hope you’ll like her <3 She’s the protag of this fic that I highly recommend :3

[drawingllamas]

I just wanted to pop on in here and tell you that your art is killer and it makes me want to cry it's so lovely (I just spent like ten minutes going through your entire tag and I've died) <3 Hope you're having a good day <3<3<3

aaaa thank you so much T.T I hope you have a lovely day too!!

[ivycrowned]

@riana-one’s commission of a scene for and from @eveninglottie ‘s fab fic, ‘where wilder hearts roam!’

[playwithdinos]

eveninglottie

  Writer’s Quiz

seriously seconding your thoughts on criticism. it’s so…jarring to get strangers telling you something is wrong with your work. I understand where it comes from, and I *think* most people intend to be positive, but man it sucks to hear when that’s the only thing they say. maybe it comes from learning how to critique in a more formal setting. idk. fandom/fic is weird in this way.

Honestly I received some truly terrible critiques during my writing degree. I got a very long lecture hand written in the margins on one of my stories about Jesus because a character in the story made offhand remark about his relative importance at the time, and that same person told my friend that she thought it was weird that all the characters became friends because they were the only gay/lesbian kids at their school.

I famously told someone, point blank, that he had written enough “bumbling protagonist slowly losing the love of his ice queen girlfriend/wife” stories for the rest of time after like the fourth of his I read, and I have no regrets.

[dearasteria]

warm up painting of @eveninglottie‘s Roslyn Trevelyan

[lafaiette]

#that moment when angara and humans are implied to be compatible - wait when did we hear this?? (also bless you for all your jaal stuff recently it's made my dash so nice <3)

An angaran woman on Aya scans Ryder and says humans are more similar to angara than she thought. She wonders how her future grand-grandchildren will look like and what genes they will inherit ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Also Jaal’s mother is interested in knowing more about the human birth process - if angara and humans weren’t compatible, she wouldn’t ask in the first place, knowing it would be impossible for them to have kids.

JAAL IS SO CUTE AND AWESOME, HE HEALED SOME OF THE SCARS SOLAVELLAN LEFT ON MY SOUL