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Wool
Meteorite
- Joined
- May 11, 2024
a richer resonance
Open (2/3) | PMs
Open (2/3) | PMs
looking for…
- Be a friendly, creative individual.
- Be willing to participate in story-crafting, whether creating civilians to inhabit our world or devising scenes to progress the story. This step does not end after the launching of our story. It is a continual effort that requires constant back and forth.
- Be willing to wait for post responses. Replies may take between a week to two weeks.
- Write female characters with backbone. I like girls with spunk and grit. Girls who are willing to get their hands dirty in pursuit of their goals or to protect their family. But I also like when those girls show their softer side after it’s earned or being forced into compliance.
- Possess the capacity to write longer posts (400+). Shorter posts are fine, especially if we are in the midst of some exciting back-and-forth. However, one-liners are unwelcome—preference toward third person, past tense.
current historical fiction cravings...
Be warned. I do not consider myself a history expert. Mistakes will happen. I do my best to research, but sometimes, shit gets confusing especially the small details. If you seek perfection, I am not the right partner for you.
- The Deveraux Brothers
- The Eldest & Heir - After the unfortunate death of his wife in childbirth, my character finds themselves raising a child alone.
- The Middle Child & Forgotten One - MC has returned from the travels to lands known and unknown after succumbing to an illness.
- The Youngest & Spoiled Rotten
- The Cousin & Orphan
- Unplanned Union, Inspired by Netflix's The Empress
- MC intends to marry one sister but leaves with thoughts of another, the wild child. After much disagreement due to MC's preference, a marriage will happen. Will YC survive the cruel and often suffocating royal court or will the marriage end in disaster?
"Yes, "Fabian readily agreed. "The women of this household are rare exceptions to the norm, possessing beauty and intelligence in equal measure."
Although the compliment was true of both women, the way he stared at her conveyed how the words were meant for her. He exercised caution as the compliment could easily be mistaken for flirtation if he made his admiration of her too plain with prying ears beside them.
Fabian's gaze slid to the rightly so protective butler when the older man hesitated rather than moved to comply with his request. The smile on his lips remained in place as he expected some resistance to his unplanned presence from the staff. The Countess wasn't Mina's only barrier.
His mind moved at a rapid pace as he quickly considered how best to put the man's nerves at ease. Doing so wasn't the easiest task since Fabian was no saint, unblemished and pure. No, scandals were still levied at him daily by the town's scandal sheet. The townfolk and its visiting nobles possessed a long memory, too, as they still spoke of his misdeeds, ones indulged far less than he preferred these nights.
But, thank fuck, Mina intervened and ushered the butler off with a captivating smile.
Fabian waited until the butler vanished around the corner of a hallway before he returned his dark green eyes to the true reason for him standing in the foyer. Mina's facade fell away an instant later. Her smile became less prominent as she regarded him closely, as if he was a puzzle to solve. Yet, despite noticing the look, he remained relaxed underneath her scrutiny. He smirked and took a step closer when Mina wisely pointed out his late-night visit was unnecessary.
"Letters fall into the wrong hands often. Delivering it here would minimize the chances of that occurring," he refuted, loving the exchange and how it almost felt like a battle of swords except with words. "Also, while your dear Aunt was quite vivid in her detail of your despondent state." Obvious teasing filled his voice at that particular words since Mina certainly didn't look the part of a heartbroken maid. "I wasn't satisfied with her account. I needed to see you myself."
Fabian bent low, enough for his mouth to linger nearby her ear. As he spoke, his warm breath brushed over her skin. "Little huntress, are you displeased at my audacity?" He shifted his face ever so slightly to ghost his mouth against her earlobe. "Does my presence offend or maybe even anger you?" Pulling back, he stared down at her, not bothering to conceal the building heat in his gaze. "Are you going to punish me for my transgressions or run?"
Although the compliment was true of both women, the way he stared at her conveyed how the words were meant for her. He exercised caution as the compliment could easily be mistaken for flirtation if he made his admiration of her too plain with prying ears beside them.
Fabian's gaze slid to the rightly so protective butler when the older man hesitated rather than moved to comply with his request. The smile on his lips remained in place as he expected some resistance to his unplanned presence from the staff. The Countess wasn't Mina's only barrier.
His mind moved at a rapid pace as he quickly considered how best to put the man's nerves at ease. Doing so wasn't the easiest task since Fabian was no saint, unblemished and pure. No, scandals were still levied at him daily by the town's scandal sheet. The townfolk and its visiting nobles possessed a long memory, too, as they still spoke of his misdeeds, ones indulged far less than he preferred these nights.
But, thank fuck, Mina intervened and ushered the butler off with a captivating smile.
Fabian waited until the butler vanished around the corner of a hallway before he returned his dark green eyes to the true reason for him standing in the foyer. Mina's facade fell away an instant later. Her smile became less prominent as she regarded him closely, as if he was a puzzle to solve. Yet, despite noticing the look, he remained relaxed underneath her scrutiny. He smirked and took a step closer when Mina wisely pointed out his late-night visit was unnecessary.
"Letters fall into the wrong hands often. Delivering it here would minimize the chances of that occurring," he refuted, loving the exchange and how it almost felt like a battle of swords except with words. "Also, while your dear Aunt was quite vivid in her detail of your despondent state." Obvious teasing filled his voice at that particular words since Mina certainly didn't look the part of a heartbroken maid. "I wasn't satisfied with her account. I needed to see you myself."
Fabian bent low, enough for his mouth to linger nearby her ear. As he spoke, his warm breath brushed over her skin. "Little huntress, are you displeased at my audacity?" He shifted his face ever so slightly to ghost his mouth against her earlobe. "Does my presence offend or maybe even anger you?" Pulling back, he stared down at her, not bothering to conceal the building heat in his gaze. "Are you going to punish me for my transgressions or run?"
current historical fantasy fiction cravings…
- Vampires
- Werewolves
- Faeries (Seelie/Unseelie)
- The Forest Spirit, Inspired by Slewfoot - A recently widowed woman befriends a recently awakened forest god, whose memory is patchy. Together, the two begin to work together to try and uncover his true identity in exchange for him aiding her in some effort. I'm also open to this idea being a create other than a forest god. It could be a lost unseelie prince, too.
- Oh My!
- Gods I am interested in writing - Zeus, Ares, Hades, Dionysus.
You will pay with your blood for your defiance.
His father's final words resonated faintly within his mind as he stared dazedly up into the remorseless gaze of the Doctore charged with "cleansing" the obstinacy from his bones. Already, his frail, mortal flesh had yielded to the continuous and searing burn of the lash, parting to anoint the dirt with his divine blood. Though he ached worse than he had in near centuries, he would not utter the words necessary to free himself from his hellish torment.
Ares did not beg.
Instead, he spat on the ground and fixed his remaining eye, as the other was swollen close, upon the bulky man and demanded another take his place. The fallen god goaded the mortal into near madness with his harsh taunts and indifferent laughter, comparing the man's supposed strength to a child. He pulled against his constraints, causing the ceiling to creak with effort to contain him, and sought to punish those who thought themselves capable of rendering him acquiescent to their whims.
Of no doubt, he probably would have been killed, accidentally of course, if not for his prowess in battle being witnessed by the owners of the aspiring and struggling ludus. In him, the Lanista saw his opportunity to rise from the masses into prominence and the promise of coin within the empire of Rome. Additionally, there was an unlimited pleasure to be had in possessing power over one who had once thought themselves one of your betters.
That healthy dosage of disdain was served for the human, not the arrogance frequently displayed by the god.
Ares had neither the time nor desire to learn of the man's waiting secrets, the one whose life had stolen without guilt, but he immediately understood there was bad blood between the owner of the paltry establishment and him. By him, he meant Cato. He had been called the man's name enough in the past few days that he did not forget to respond when addressed by it.
Eventually, the Doctore left him to rot in his own urine, sweat, and feces, abandoning him to contemplate his disobedience in the silence of night. Rather than sleep, as his body demanded, Ares spent much of his night tugging against his restraints. A frustrated scream finally ripped from his mouth when his natural born abilities remained noticeably absent.
Somewhere in the midst of his sleep-deprived delirium, he could hear soft laughter upon the winds and understood his punishment was not lost to his brethren. At some point, Hypnos took pity and forced sleep upon his unprotected mind, an action he would not have dare attempted any other time for fear of retribution.
Cold water stole him from his nightmares no more than three hours later. His eyes were sunken into his face but still sparked with defiance. This time, the Doctore had not come alone. Three gladiators stood beside him before they moved aside to permit the Lanista entrance to stand a few feet away from Cato. Apparently, he still feared the man even though he had him bound, beaten, and restrained.
"Look at me," he commanded sharply with a snap of his finger.
"Fuck off," Cato said dismissively as he started to close his eyes again, bored already of the man's unexpected presence into his prison cell. Yes, he was adopting the name rather than resisting it.
A harsh grip took hold of his jaw, powerful fingers pressing against his skin. When he still resisted, refusing to open his eyes, a hard punch to the side of his head forced compliance.
"Thank you, Hadrianus." The Lanista said to the gladiator who had intervened to ensure proper respect was provided. The thin man turned his attention back to Cato, clearly undisturbed by the closeness of violence to him. "Do you know who I am? Do you remember me, son of Ovidius?"
"Should I?" Cato asked genuinely as he took the time to search his memory, the mortals. Nothing came to mind. If he had met the man before, he had not much importance within it.
The Lanista released a laugh though there was no mirth in the sound.
"You are right. There is no point in taking the pains to refresh your memory. In your pathetic state, you will not last the day. Avitus, prepare him."
He offered no fight as they took him down and stripped him of the loincloth that covered him. Rough hands scrubbed him clean, heedless of the wounds which protested it. He passed out somewhere in the midst of it and woke up to find himself in another cell. This one was much cleaner than the first. Outside, he could hear the cheers, the meeting of swords, and the final cries of those who failed to parry a blow. Regardless of the circumstances, the sound excited him, and he could feel the bloodlust rising within him. It was the difference between him and that bitch Athena. She took no pleasure in it, watching the battle with cold detachment. Ares wanted, no, needed to be in the thick of it. He had no desire to move pieces upon a map.
His cell was actually an open one where he could see his surroundings, including the ones nearest to him. Apparently, he was not the only noncompliant one. It did surprise him to find a woman in the cell nearest to him.
"Hey," he called to grab her attention from where he sat on the floor with only a black garb to conceal his cock from view. "Hey, you. Yea, you, Brown Eyes. Show a sentenced man your tits. Might be the last pleasant sight I have before I greet that sulking bastard." A lopsided grin formed at his mouth as he imagined her response would not be as acquiescent considering her hardened demeanor.
His father's final words resonated faintly within his mind as he stared dazedly up into the remorseless gaze of the Doctore charged with "cleansing" the obstinacy from his bones. Already, his frail, mortal flesh had yielded to the continuous and searing burn of the lash, parting to anoint the dirt with his divine blood. Though he ached worse than he had in near centuries, he would not utter the words necessary to free himself from his hellish torment.
Ares did not beg.
Instead, he spat on the ground and fixed his remaining eye, as the other was swollen close, upon the bulky man and demanded another take his place. The fallen god goaded the mortal into near madness with his harsh taunts and indifferent laughter, comparing the man's supposed strength to a child. He pulled against his constraints, causing the ceiling to creak with effort to contain him, and sought to punish those who thought themselves capable of rendering him acquiescent to their whims.
Of no doubt, he probably would have been killed, accidentally of course, if not for his prowess in battle being witnessed by the owners of the aspiring and struggling ludus. In him, the Lanista saw his opportunity to rise from the masses into prominence and the promise of coin within the empire of Rome. Additionally, there was an unlimited pleasure to be had in possessing power over one who had once thought themselves one of your betters.
That healthy dosage of disdain was served for the human, not the arrogance frequently displayed by the god.
Ares had neither the time nor desire to learn of the man's waiting secrets, the one whose life had stolen without guilt, but he immediately understood there was bad blood between the owner of the paltry establishment and him. By him, he meant Cato. He had been called the man's name enough in the past few days that he did not forget to respond when addressed by it.
Eventually, the Doctore left him to rot in his own urine, sweat, and feces, abandoning him to contemplate his disobedience in the silence of night. Rather than sleep, as his body demanded, Ares spent much of his night tugging against his restraints. A frustrated scream finally ripped from his mouth when his natural born abilities remained noticeably absent.
Somewhere in the midst of his sleep-deprived delirium, he could hear soft laughter upon the winds and understood his punishment was not lost to his brethren. At some point, Hypnos took pity and forced sleep upon his unprotected mind, an action he would not have dare attempted any other time for fear of retribution.
Cold water stole him from his nightmares no more than three hours later. His eyes were sunken into his face but still sparked with defiance. This time, the Doctore had not come alone. Three gladiators stood beside him before they moved aside to permit the Lanista entrance to stand a few feet away from Cato. Apparently, he still feared the man even though he had him bound, beaten, and restrained.
"Look at me," he commanded sharply with a snap of his finger.
"Fuck off," Cato said dismissively as he started to close his eyes again, bored already of the man's unexpected presence into his prison cell. Yes, he was adopting the name rather than resisting it.
A harsh grip took hold of his jaw, powerful fingers pressing against his skin. When he still resisted, refusing to open his eyes, a hard punch to the side of his head forced compliance.
"Thank you, Hadrianus." The Lanista said to the gladiator who had intervened to ensure proper respect was provided. The thin man turned his attention back to Cato, clearly undisturbed by the closeness of violence to him. "Do you know who I am? Do you remember me, son of Ovidius?"
"Should I?" Cato asked genuinely as he took the time to search his memory, the mortals. Nothing came to mind. If he had met the man before, he had not much importance within it.
The Lanista released a laugh though there was no mirth in the sound.
"You are right. There is no point in taking the pains to refresh your memory. In your pathetic state, you will not last the day. Avitus, prepare him."
He offered no fight as they took him down and stripped him of the loincloth that covered him. Rough hands scrubbed him clean, heedless of the wounds which protested it. He passed out somewhere in the midst of it and woke up to find himself in another cell. This one was much cleaner than the first. Outside, he could hear the cheers, the meeting of swords, and the final cries of those who failed to parry a blow. Regardless of the circumstances, the sound excited him, and he could feel the bloodlust rising within him. It was the difference between him and that bitch Athena. She took no pleasure in it, watching the battle with cold detachment. Ares wanted, no, needed to be in the thick of it. He had no desire to move pieces upon a map.
His cell was actually an open one where he could see his surroundings, including the ones nearest to him. Apparently, he was not the only noncompliant one. It did surprise him to find a woman in the cell nearest to him.
"Hey," he called to grab her attention from where he sat on the floor with only a black garb to conceal his cock from view. "Hey, you. Yea, you, Brown Eyes. Show a sentenced man your tits. Might be the last pleasant sight I have before I greet that sulking bastard." A lopsided grin formed at his mouth as he imagined her response would not be as acquiescent considering her hardened demeanor.
"Lord of the seas!" Athena's powerful voice boomed across the vast and restless seas, easily heard over the oncoming storm and drizzle of rain, as she broached closer to the waves lapping at the sandy shoreline. Each powerful thud of her greaved covered feet shook the ground, much like how her father pounded thunder mercilessly across the defenseless skies in his fits of rage.
Nothing but silence answered and mocked the young goddess as her uncle intentionally ignored her most petulant of cries. It was blatant from the fury emanating from her dark jade eyes that she, the favored child of the heavens, was unaccustomed to such defiance from mortal, man, and god alike. However, the tactician did not dare submerge herself into his domain in search of him. Where vengeance fueled her demands, she did not fall into the trappings of the dangerous and rarely experienced emotion.
He, above all, was not to be trusted. Athena understood exactly how underhanded and conniving her uncle could become at a moment's notice. His betrayal and treachery against her father and other members of Olympus was well known.
"You have nothing to fear of the water." His voice came from some unknown location, sounding as if he surrounded her rather than remained cloaked and concealed somewhere within the ocean's watery depths before her.
Athena scoffed and pushed a damp strand of her ebony hair behind an ear. The usual helm, adorned with fine horse hairs down its center, was noticeably absent from her head, a telling sign of how quickly she'd come to him after her discovery. Rather than waste either of their time with false niceties, she proceeded to reveal the root of the reason why she bothered to leave the sanctuary of her vast and frequently explored libraries to seek out his audience.
"You have taken another wife?" Disdain was evident upon her tongue as she held no interest in pleasures to be found in the flesh. Even as she spoke the question, it was obvious from the clenching of her fists at her sides that she already knew the answer.
He laughed, the sound low and rumbling, at her discomfort with the subject. "Do my involvements inspire the fire of jealousy into your frigid body, niece of mine?"
It was then that he started the slow ascent from the shimmering blue waves to become exposed to the rain beating down upon the surface of the ocean. Detached and aloof eyes pinned immediately upon her infuriated face as droplets of water and rain intermingled to cascade down his toned chest. His body was only clothed by the dampened chiton that clung to his flesh, hiding nothing from her virginal eyes.
"Do not make the mistake of those before you by mocking me," Athena said through closely gritted teeth, eyes flashing with warning. "I charge you with thievery. You have stolen something once precious, now ruined, from my temples. I seek retribution, and I swear my father's name that I will have it."
Nothing but silence answered and mocked the young goddess as her uncle intentionally ignored her most petulant of cries. It was blatant from the fury emanating from her dark jade eyes that she, the favored child of the heavens, was unaccustomed to such defiance from mortal, man, and god alike. However, the tactician did not dare submerge herself into his domain in search of him. Where vengeance fueled her demands, she did not fall into the trappings of the dangerous and rarely experienced emotion.
He, above all, was not to be trusted. Athena understood exactly how underhanded and conniving her uncle could become at a moment's notice. His betrayal and treachery against her father and other members of Olympus was well known.
"You have nothing to fear of the water." His voice came from some unknown location, sounding as if he surrounded her rather than remained cloaked and concealed somewhere within the ocean's watery depths before her.
Athena scoffed and pushed a damp strand of her ebony hair behind an ear. The usual helm, adorned with fine horse hairs down its center, was noticeably absent from her head, a telling sign of how quickly she'd come to him after her discovery. Rather than waste either of their time with false niceties, she proceeded to reveal the root of the reason why she bothered to leave the sanctuary of her vast and frequently explored libraries to seek out his audience.
"You have taken another wife?" Disdain was evident upon her tongue as she held no interest in pleasures to be found in the flesh. Even as she spoke the question, it was obvious from the clenching of her fists at her sides that she already knew the answer.
He laughed, the sound low and rumbling, at her discomfort with the subject. "Do my involvements inspire the fire of jealousy into your frigid body, niece of mine?"
It was then that he started the slow ascent from the shimmering blue waves to become exposed to the rain beating down upon the surface of the ocean. Detached and aloof eyes pinned immediately upon her infuriated face as droplets of water and rain intermingled to cascade down his toned chest. His body was only clothed by the dampened chiton that clung to his flesh, hiding nothing from her virginal eyes.
"Do not make the mistake of those before you by mocking me," Athena said through closely gritted teeth, eyes flashing with warning. "I charge you with thievery. You have stolen something once precious, now ruined, from my temples. I seek retribution, and I swear my father's name that I will have it."
current fandom cravings…
Be warned. I do not consider writing canon characters a personal strength. I prefer originals. However, one does not get better without practice, so this is my attempt to step into unfamiliar waters rather than be content with the familiar. I'll eventually write actual plots for these pairings.
- Game of Thrones
- Maegor x one of his wives | Maegor's reign is ripe for drama and often unwilling marriages. Of all his wives, I am most interested in exploring his relationship with Ceryse Hightower, Alys Harroway, Tyanna, and Rhaena (one of the black brides).
- helaena x aemond [taken]
- Potterverse
- Hermione x Tom Riddle |
- Inuyasha
- Sess x Kagome | I am interested in exploring this pairing when Kagome is an adult. It can happen within the present day or back in the past (if she chooses to live there). In the present day, I imagine that yokai and humans live side by side. Think Trueblood, where humanity is introduced to the idea of the supernatural. It is early enough to where some people are still leery but late enough to where seeing one isn't going to make heads turn. Sess might enlist Kagome's help to aid him in better integrating his people into human society.
- Kushielverse
- Other TVs/ Movies/Etc. that I might enjoy writing in or creating a similar plot
- Bridgerton (historical drama), Blood of Zeus (greek mythology), Dune (sci-fi action/romance drama), My Happy Marriage (love against the odds), Little Women (the new one), Black Sails (yar pirates), Spartacus, North & South (2004), Godless (adore westerns), Penny Dreadful, Gilded Age, Forsyte Saga, The king, outlaw king, dracula untold, etc.
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