Apr 12, 2020
@penumbvra requested → elizabeth swann (x)
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@penumbvra requested → elizabeth swann (x)
“I mean somebody royally forked up. Forked up. Wait, why can’t I say forked?”
fandom family edits → eleanor shellstrop for @penumbvra
Need a place to settle down, have a cup of tea, and rest your weary eyes with others just the same? A net to talk to sleep deprived writers with procrastination issues and life getting in the way? Look no further!
How to Apply:
You must be following the admins: Faru and Kate (x) , and the mods: Sasha and Aimi
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Fill out this super fast and easy form!
You must have a Discord account in order to join!
What We are Looking For:
Original content writers. Writing can include anything from prose and poetry to novels and short stories
Moderately experienced writers
Active, friendly, and open blogs and Discord users
What You’ll Find in the Net:
A network of friendly, open, and encouraging writers and poets from all types and walks of life!
Feedback and advice not only in writing but all that might trouble your weary mind
Friendly and encouraging writing advice and feedback!
Writing activities, prompts, and references for you to utilize from a cast of people you can’t find just anywhere
Who We Will Not Accept:
Anyone who agrees and/or sympathizes with any form of rac/ism, homo/phobia, trans/phobia, sex/ism, xeno/phobia, te/rfs/rad/fem, bi/phobia, basically anyone with an intolerant mindset
More Info:
We will be accepting 20 new members
The deadline for this is July 5th, 2019 at midnight EST (GMT-5)
Please track #wearywnet and #wwnet for updates, news, and awesome pieces of writing from your local tumblrs!
If you have any questions or concerns, do not be afraid to contact any admin or mod at any time, we will get back to you asap!
Although we want anyone who is even the slightest bit interested to apply, we hope that anyone that is at least somewhat serious about their writing does apply! We would love to help you along this path and learn whatever we can along with you!
We can’t wait to meet all of you and read all the writing you’re willing to share and get to know all of you!
@modernmythsnet | Event Twenty Seven | Summer Colors | Natural ↳ Summer Playtime (here)
Amaterasu, the Japanese goddess of the sun and the heavens.
f/f february: mermaid & selkie
requested by @penumbvra
name moodboard for @penumbvra
adelina - nobility
playlist: king of the pelicans
between the devil and the deep blue sea xylo the tide it takes me away from you and it brings me back again ; drexler made in heights i could dive the deepest and chase the pearl below the beaches ; the islander nightwish horizon crying the tears you left behind long ago ; under the water aurora hearts will dream again, lungs will breathe in ; the morrigan heather dale the morrigan dreams old dream of flight, the morrigan sees with another sight
{ send me a playlist title }
🖋️ !!
This has been on my drafts since forever and I admit: I forgot it was there. I picked Light is not Good + Dark is Not Evil, and this is kind of a concept for a wip of mine. Anyway, hope you like it! :)
They meet in a space between nowhere and everywhere, a gap between what is and what will never be again. Above them lies a realm of ash and dust and ruins, haunted by unspeakable horrors woven from a dead god’s blackest nightmares; below them, a land bursting with life and beauty, thriving in blissful ignorance, built by a dying god’s fragile hope.
Around them, reality is a fragile, fickle thing, making and remaking itself over and over again. The seams of the world lay exposed, the fabric of reality torn asunder, and their presence is enough to send its threads into utter disarray.
She is gold and life and the light of endless stars. Fiery flowers adorn her moonlit hair, and when she smiles, they bloom into small suns and supernovas. The world— reality itself— holds its breath; it awaits, eagerly, longingly, for her command.
“Life cannot be stopped,” she says, and the world answers. Life explodes around them, creation beginning anew, filling the gap with foreign colors. Flowers grow from nothingness and beings that never were before and never would again rise from the dust. “It’ll find a way back. It always does.”
She is beautiful— and lovely, and bright, and wrong.
Across from her, he stands, darkness and death and the sorrows of endless souls. Shadows embrace him like armor, snuffling out all the light; blood falls from his crimson hands, bleeding and bleeding without ever stopping. The world — reality itself— cries in terror of his existence and awaits, fearfully, anxiously, for his command.
They stand there, between nowhere and everywhere, a scion of life and a scion of death, gods-blessed children given powers none should ever have; mortals who had become something else, something more.
He remembers what they were before: a man blessed at war and bloodshed, a harbinger of death, destruction and misery; a woman with a gift for healing, a priestess full of love and life and simplistic wisdom. He remembers the feeling of falling, of rising again— their own mortality, long buried, desperately holding on to whatever it can.
She no longer remembers being human.
Now here they stand, equal and opposite, children of a dead world and gods of a new one.
“You are right,” he acknowledges, and the world screams. All around them, life turns to ash and bones and blood and nothingness. “But I shall hinder your progress, for as long as I can.”
She laughs, amused despite herself. Around them, reality is in chaos— equal and opposite, the pull of their forces, and it does not know whose will to heed.
“They’re lowly animals, flawed and imperfect to their core. Why protect that which is only a step to true perfection?” Her voice as melodious as a bird singing under the morning sun, as sharp as the wind and cold enough to burn. She has starlit eyes— distant and capricious and long past caring.
“Because you have forgotten how to,” he whispers, sadness and regret as cutting as obsidian shards. He stares deep into her eyes, those twin stars that once brought hope to the world— even his own. “Because you’re my sister.”
She just smiles, beautifully, brightly, emptily. There is nothing human left in her, only light and life and the mercilessness of existence.
They say nothing more. They do not have too.
A goddess of life, hungry for death— and a god of death, sworn to stop her.