gabrielle
queen of angst
Hi all, it’s been a while.
I’m a detailed writer looking for someone with similar interests.
A bit about me:
Lastly, I’d like to make a note on this and say that I will not ghost you. As such, please offer me the same respect if we are to become writing partners. If you aren’t vibing with a story, please just let me know. Communication is valued over silence.
I’m a detailed writer looking for someone with similar interests.
A bit about me:
- I’m in my early-mid 20s.
- I use all pronouns (they/them preferred)
- I am lgbtq+ friendly
- I’m in med school
- I enjoy OOC chat: sharing playlists and art inspired by our story, normal conversation, plot point brainstorming, etc
- I usually write a response daily. Sometimes I can manage two posts, but that’s dependent on your timing. (I average 600-1200 words per post, but the length may climb higher if it’s not dialogue)
- This is subject to change during my exam weeks. I will let you know my schedule.
- Right now I am studying for STEPone, so my schedule will be pretty regular for the next 3-6 months. [Started my dedicated study period Sept. 2023]
- My characters are usually male/nonbinary with a fluid sexuality. That said, I’m fine with any gender pairing. However, note that I do not have experience writing MxM.
- I enjoy my stories to have the opportunity for romance elements, but only if it feels natural to the story. I don’t want either of us forcing our characters to fall in love.
- My writing tends to have an introspective, emotional feel as my responses come heavy on the internal dialogue of the character. This is the aspect of detail in my writing.
- I prefer writing on discord. You can add me there @helisif
- A partner that is 20+ in age
- Modern or futuristic setting with or without fantasy elements
- Characters that are young adults (20-30s)
- Powerplay dynamic between characters
- I’d prefer we brainstorm something together. It’s more interesting whenever both of our ideas are in the mix so let me know if there’s anything you have in mind to add.
Set in a big futuristic city on a dystopian timeline. Technology is advanced, and society is communistic. As such, privacy and freedom is limited. Everyone has their job to do and respective responsibilities to fulfill. The streets are lined with masked guards, making sure everyone follows their routine. The government calls it assured protection; however, anyone with a thought of their own would call it oppression. Average folk must be careful of how they speak and who they speak it to, but at the very least, their basic needs are well taken care of by the government. Crime is nonexistent. Poverty is abolished. Yet it is known communist is its prettiest only on paper.
Behind the scenes, the government is run by a select few “elite” that enjoy the hedonism of free will and power. There are also those that were unfit for this picturesque society: the unwell, the unruly, the indulgent. They all have their place in this city behind the scenes, as do members of the resistance. (at this point we can add a fantasy element. Those who aren’t human can possibly fall into elite or low caste based on species maybe?)
What happens when one of these elites fall into interest of one of these societal degenerates? What kind of interest is it? Love, lust, power-seeking obsession? What exactly are their intentions, and what are their plans to see it through? How does the object of their interest respond? Will they play along, manipulate, or seek to destroy? Also, how much power does the elite have? Do they agree with the system? How much are either of them involved in the resistance, and in what way? Why exactly are they both so drawn to each other and can’t seem to escape the connection?
There’s still some world building that needs to be done with this, but I have characters that fit either role. I’d rather my character for the outcast role. We can play with this idea and change/add things if you’d like. Do let me know. I also have some old plot points I can send you if you’re interested in the setting.Lastly, I’d like to make a note on this and say that I will not ghost you. As such, please offer me the same respect if we are to become writing partners. If you aren’t vibing with a story, please just let me know. Communication is valued over silence.
Despite the urge to approach Viv as she stood just steps away, Izadore hesitated as Abaddon finally spoke for the first time since leaving the apartment. Something in its voice conveyed an urgency that had not been there before. It was a tone that shocked Iza. That cantor was one Iza recalled hearing the demon speak in during a childhood trauma it had prevented.
The memory had a chill running down his spine, but even so, he pushed back.
“How do you *know,* Aba?” He turned to face the demon hanging over his shoulder. It was uncomfortably close to his face. Its expression startled him as its eyes bore into him. The anxiety Aba was giving him seeped into his now reddening cheeks and sharpened teeth. Iza could feel Abaddon pushing against his will, trying to forcibly grab control of his body through the cracks of his emotion. He felt as if he were choking.
Sure enough, in an instant, Abaddon’s hand was around his throat. Its talons dug into his skin as its palm squeezed, pulling a wheeze from Iza’s breath. He grasped the demon's wrist to wretch its assault away, gasping for ragged breath as Aba seemed to betray him.
“S-stop,” he choked, hatred taking over his features. Aba watched calmly; its expression was eerily blank. The lack of enjoyment from the demon registered in Iza’s mind, and he paused for a beat, taking in his surroundings. It was during that moment of silence that he heard the sound of jets. They were too loud to be flying at a safe elevation.
“Must I explain everything to you like a child, Izadore?” Abaddon’s voice sounded too deep beside him. It seemed to embody everything powerful and ungodly. A deep-rooted anxiety stirred within Iza as he recalled the exact nature of Abaddon and everything it represented.
Of course. It was only natural that a god of chaos would have the ability to sense such things when they arise.
Izadore’s mind immediately drew itself to his estranged mother.
“Do not worry about her, child,” The demon insisted through a hiss as Izadore tore its arms away from his neck in an anxious fit. “She coexists with her shadow. She’s impenetrable.” The gravity of Abaddon’s words went unnoticed under the pull of Izadore’s panic. Instead of listening to the demon’s rational helpfulness, he attempted to approach the two women.
“You **foolish** child, Izadore!” Abaddon’s commanding words sounded with an overbearing frustration. In an instant, the demon pounced on Izadore, bringing him to the ground. He fell to his knees and outstretched hands, and the demon was atop him. Its words burned with rage over its pet’s disobedience as it spoke, saying, “What could you possibly accomplish without me?”
Despite Izadore attempting to fight against Aba, its weight was suddenly too much to overcome as it pinned him down. “I have simply,” Aba began its announcement as it grabbed a fistful of Iza’s hair, yanking his head back as it continued, saying, “come too far with you to allow you to die now. I will **not** allow it.” Izadore’s panicked, pleading eyes met Abaddon’s cold and overbearing ones as its talons arched above him. “If you refuse to let me help you, I will **make** you, my love.”
A cold, searing pain registered to him as Abaddon’s talons pierced into his neck.
It felt as if he had all the time in the world to contemplate what just happened. All Iza could think of was, *‘What the f*ck, that f*cking hurt. Did you seriously just do that? Is this actually how I’m going to die?’* as he held his hands over his wounds. The warmth of blood ran like a faucet down his chest, barely registering as the pain and anger melted into a calm serenity. It all felt like a divine joke to be tortured by this creature in such a cruel and unusual way, yet find so much comfort in the idea of it finally being over.
In reality, all Iza managed to do, was hold Abaddon’s hand for a second before his head dropped to the ground like a brick.
Within moments, Abaddon faded into Izadore’s body and resurrected it from the puddle of blood. A clawed hand wiped away the blood. With that small movement, the wounds on Izadore’s neck were gone.
The gory scene the demon created had caused the crowd around them to scatter. Some feared they were going to be Aba's next victims. Others were dragged away by their shadows that recognized Aba the second it had morphed into its natural form before attacking Iza. The panic caused several liminals to morph as one, acting precisely as Abaddon had intended them to.
It didn’t wish to protect any of the pathetic souls in the building at all. However, what it did want was to take advantage of the situation. It knew taking over Izadore without his consent would cause a setback in the trust it had steadily been building, but Abaddon saw nothing but opportunity in having an audience. It could paint itself as a hero, pulling Izadore’s favor in saving what his disgustingly soft soul would see as precious and worthy of protecting. Additionally, Abaddon intended to remind every demon in the room of its power. It would draw loyalty out of mass fear.
As Abaddon walked to the center of the building with fluid confidence, its features steadily overtook Izadore’s human traits in a grand display of power. Fangs lengthened past his lips as his ears formed into long points. What was once Iza’s medium and lithe body morphed into a staggering height and large muscles. As his shirt grew uncomfortably tight on his body, inches-long talons reached up to tear the shirt off. Abaddon’s tell-tale horns and tail erupted in their full mass, appearing larger than they did in the demon’s incorporeal form.
The sounds of the jets grew louder, and panic began to erupt within the room. Abaddon stood at the center, peering up into the sky through the glass ceiling with a wide grin as missiles dropped from the plane.
The memory had a chill running down his spine, but even so, he pushed back.
“How do you *know,* Aba?” He turned to face the demon hanging over his shoulder. It was uncomfortably close to his face. Its expression startled him as its eyes bore into him. The anxiety Aba was giving him seeped into his now reddening cheeks and sharpened teeth. Iza could feel Abaddon pushing against his will, trying to forcibly grab control of his body through the cracks of his emotion. He felt as if he were choking.
Sure enough, in an instant, Abaddon’s hand was around his throat. Its talons dug into his skin as its palm squeezed, pulling a wheeze from Iza’s breath. He grasped the demon's wrist to wretch its assault away, gasping for ragged breath as Aba seemed to betray him.
“S-stop,” he choked, hatred taking over his features. Aba watched calmly; its expression was eerily blank. The lack of enjoyment from the demon registered in Iza’s mind, and he paused for a beat, taking in his surroundings. It was during that moment of silence that he heard the sound of jets. They were too loud to be flying at a safe elevation.
“Must I explain everything to you like a child, Izadore?” Abaddon’s voice sounded too deep beside him. It seemed to embody everything powerful and ungodly. A deep-rooted anxiety stirred within Iza as he recalled the exact nature of Abaddon and everything it represented.
Of course. It was only natural that a god of chaos would have the ability to sense such things when they arise.
Izadore’s mind immediately drew itself to his estranged mother.
“Do not worry about her, child,” The demon insisted through a hiss as Izadore tore its arms away from his neck in an anxious fit. “She coexists with her shadow. She’s impenetrable.” The gravity of Abaddon’s words went unnoticed under the pull of Izadore’s panic. Instead of listening to the demon’s rational helpfulness, he attempted to approach the two women.
“You **foolish** child, Izadore!” Abaddon’s commanding words sounded with an overbearing frustration. In an instant, the demon pounced on Izadore, bringing him to the ground. He fell to his knees and outstretched hands, and the demon was atop him. Its words burned with rage over its pet’s disobedience as it spoke, saying, “What could you possibly accomplish without me?”
Despite Izadore attempting to fight against Aba, its weight was suddenly too much to overcome as it pinned him down. “I have simply,” Aba began its announcement as it grabbed a fistful of Iza’s hair, yanking his head back as it continued, saying, “come too far with you to allow you to die now. I will **not** allow it.” Izadore’s panicked, pleading eyes met Abaddon’s cold and overbearing ones as its talons arched above him. “If you refuse to let me help you, I will **make** you, my love.”
A cold, searing pain registered to him as Abaddon’s talons pierced into his neck.
It felt as if he had all the time in the world to contemplate what just happened. All Iza could think of was, *‘What the f*ck, that f*cking hurt. Did you seriously just do that? Is this actually how I’m going to die?’* as he held his hands over his wounds. The warmth of blood ran like a faucet down his chest, barely registering as the pain and anger melted into a calm serenity. It all felt like a divine joke to be tortured by this creature in such a cruel and unusual way, yet find so much comfort in the idea of it finally being over.
In reality, all Iza managed to do, was hold Abaddon’s hand for a second before his head dropped to the ground like a brick.
Within moments, Abaddon faded into Izadore’s body and resurrected it from the puddle of blood. A clawed hand wiped away the blood. With that small movement, the wounds on Izadore’s neck were gone.
The gory scene the demon created had caused the crowd around them to scatter. Some feared they were going to be Aba's next victims. Others were dragged away by their shadows that recognized Aba the second it had morphed into its natural form before attacking Iza. The panic caused several liminals to morph as one, acting precisely as Abaddon had intended them to.
It didn’t wish to protect any of the pathetic souls in the building at all. However, what it did want was to take advantage of the situation. It knew taking over Izadore without his consent would cause a setback in the trust it had steadily been building, but Abaddon saw nothing but opportunity in having an audience. It could paint itself as a hero, pulling Izadore’s favor in saving what his disgustingly soft soul would see as precious and worthy of protecting. Additionally, Abaddon intended to remind every demon in the room of its power. It would draw loyalty out of mass fear.
As Abaddon walked to the center of the building with fluid confidence, its features steadily overtook Izadore’s human traits in a grand display of power. Fangs lengthened past his lips as his ears formed into long points. What was once Iza’s medium and lithe body morphed into a staggering height and large muscles. As his shirt grew uncomfortably tight on his body, inches-long talons reached up to tear the shirt off. Abaddon’s tell-tale horns and tail erupted in their full mass, appearing larger than they did in the demon’s incorporeal form.
The sounds of the jets grew louder, and panic began to erupt within the room. Abaddon stood at the center, peering up into the sky through the glass ceiling with a wide grin as missiles dropped from the plane.
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