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Since it has happened MULTIPLE times now, I want to be very clear about this. You do not get to abandon an account and create a new one. You do not get to pass an account to someone else and create a new one. If you do so anyway, you will be banned for creating sockpuppets.
Due to the actions of particularly persistent spammers and trolls, we will be banning disposable email addresses from today onward.
The rules regarding NSFW links have been updated. See here for details.
Whenever you write something, I have to avoid it because your writing is peak but your constant abandonment breaks my heart when the story clicks with me
Miyako you have too many stories with not many chapters. Please focus on progressing the one you like and add a hiatus on the title you will not update.
Why don't you make a snippet thread? Not trying to sound accusing, but you pretty frequently start a short story that could fit into a snippet thread. Then you could avoid being pestered about this or that story, since it's just a snippet thread. And when you truly intend to focus on a story and/or finish it, you could just pull it out of the snippet thread and post it as usual.
I am the Awakened One among the unawakened,
The Most Victorious among common folk,
The Foremost among humans and deities alike.
Between heaven and earth,I alone am the Honored One.
Hullo, not sure if this is the right place but I was wondering where I can find your stories on AO3, I have been unable to find them as I recall you once mentioned that you were continuing a few stories on there?
They fell where no funeral pyres could be built.
No sacred rivers to receive their ashes.
Only foreign earth claiming their bodies.
The mountain's name, their only monument.
Hindu-Kush. Death written into geography.
Nineteen flames, extinguished too soon—
daughters of an ancient creed, undone.
Their courage lives in the soil, the stars,
a fire that time nor hate can erase.
Mourn them, but let their light guide us.
The air hangs heavy, thick with the scent of smoke and the ghosts of screams.
The Golden Horn, stained crimson, reflects a sky bruised with twilight.
Hagia Sophia, once a beacon of Christendom, now echoes with the call to prayer.
A hollow sound, a mournful dirge for a city lost.
The walls, scarred and broken, stand as silent witnesses to the carnage.
For centuries they held, a bulwark against the tide of invaders.
Now, they crumble, weeping stone tears for the fallen.
The dust of heroes mingles with the dust of the conquered.
I remember the processions, the emperors in their purple robes, the chanting of the priests.
The vibrant markets, bursting with life, the clash of languages, the scent of spices.
Now, only silence reigns.
A silence broken only by the wind whistling through shattered windows and empty streets.
The libraries, once filled with the wisdom of ages, now smolder.
Scrolls and codices, consumed by flames, their knowledge lost forever.
The light of learning extinguished, plunging the city into darkness.
A darkness that mirrors the despair in my heart.
The double-headed eagle, symbol of empire, lies broken in the dust.
The purple robes torn, the imperial crown cast aside.
The bells that once rang out in celebration now toll a death knell.
A death knell for Constantinople, Queen of Cities, now fallen.
The whispers of Constantine haunt the empty streets.
The ghosts of emperors and empresses wander through the ruins.
A thousand years of history reduced to rubble and ash.
A lament for what was, and what will never be again.Istanbul.
A new name, a new master.
But the memory of Constantinople lingers, a wound that will never fully heal.
Smoke still clings to my scales, though I am leagues from the Smoking Sea.
A phantom scent of ash, of sulfur, forever in my nostrils.
I remember the sun on Valyria, not choked by volcanic fumes,
but brilliant, bathing the fourteen flames in golden light.