Hey friends, it's been awhile since I've been able to put in any work on this! But I've been doing some world building and altering a few things, and thought it might be nice to send you an updated summary of my original novel. It is tentatively titled "The Pilgrimage", but who knows, that might change as well.
Alays Webster is a weaver in a small town on the edge of the Barrens in a country called Codor. Life in her hometown is pretty sedate, and more or less ruled by the country's religious hierarchy and its tenets, observing festivals and attending service and what have you. It is expected that everyone will go on pilgrimage to the capital at least once in their lifetimes, to witness miracles and see the Sleeping King himself, where he lies in state while battling in the spirit realm against false gods and keeping them out of Codor. Alays, though, was always a sickly child, and still has occasional bad days now that she's grown. So she’s put off making the pilgrimage until her childhood best friend, Vezian, now a priest, comes and cajoles her into making the journey with him.
The Barrens are a dead wasteland that surround Codor on all sides; as far as anyone knows, no one can live there, and the area is considered to be forsaken by everyone, even the Sleeping King. On her pilgrimage, Alays learns that her proximity to the Barrens causes others to look down on her, and she encounters concepts that she had never considered before, everything from how criminals are treated to “witches” and “demons”, from whose magic the Sleeping King's priests promise protection.
Alays's ill health improves the closer she gets to the capital, and this is touted as a miracle from the Sleeping King himself. It turns out, however, that Alays is sensitive to magical energies, and her health is improving because she is traveling through healthier land that has more magic available for her to draw from. Magic is secretly but strictly regulated by the priesthood, and anyone who tries to use it outside of their purview is labeled a witch, and sentenced to a terrible fate: either death, or “alteration” into Misbegotten monsters. Alays is now in terrible danger through no fault of her own.
Vezian’s mentor, Father Marcellus, explains this to Alays, and arranges for her to escape to the Barrens via airship, piloted by a man named Lucas. In my original version of this story, Lucas is a shady fellow who almost certainly can not be trusted, and Vezian is exiled along with Alays. In the updated 2023 version of this story, I want Alays to go to the Barrens alone, taken there by Lucas, while Vezian is left behind without even the first clue what could have happened to his childhood best friend. In that case, Vezian has to hunt for Alays himself, and learn a great deal about the secrets the upper echelons of the priesthood have been hiding from him. Though Vezian doesn’t know it yet, Lucas will be instrumental in helping him find Alays once more.
This is, incidentally, a plot that I write over and over again, no matter how hard I might try to to get away from it: “Character A is separated from Character B and they must reunite,” except that once they do reunite, Vezian discovers that Alays is dying, and with Lucas's help must go on a dangerous journey across the Barrens and into the unknown in order to save her life.
What follows is a tale of adventure, exile, betrayal, and trust, that tests not only their faith, but everything Lucas, Vezian, and Alays thought they ever knew. There will be magic, and gods, new lands not seen in centuries, and old tales not heard in just as long.
(My worldbuilding for this is extensive, and highly distracting. Now if only I could get the story itself to be half as interesting.)
Plotting is so much easier when you remember that editing exists; if it doesn’t go right the first time, you can fuck around later and make it better once you’ve got a clearer picture in your head of what you’re after
Your story probably isn’t gonna look even close to your plotting notes by the end of it, and that’s a good thing; it means your drafting worked
@aalinaaaaaa thanks for the tag! i decided to complete it for my in-progress fic, Short For Grenade
Drumstick soup? my favorite, yum
Anger issues -> pet dog pipeline
No weapons of mass destruction
Weapons of medium destruction are chill tho
Hashtag parenting win
Hives of love
You say dog, he says evil compass
Happy kidnap your friend(?) day!
Deny, deflect, detonate (and detonate one more time for good measure)
Idiot, dumbass, useless, stupid (affectionate)
This house is a prison
When your secrets keep being spilt by a guy you're not even telling them to
Rabbit trade? Denied. Loser.
Middle aged lady thieves
That's code for "my son has no friends"
All the phobias
Missing Masaru hours
Kidnapping, the sequel
Aaaand
Squirrel 1, Katsuki 0
The End :)
“fuck it, we ball” is doing wonders for my assignment related anxiety rn
so excited to start working on requests!!
every time i think im making solid progress with this fic, it keeps getting longer on me lol, so here's the most recent bit ive written:
“My, my, what a passionate statement,” Mitsuki pointed out, poking his knee. Katsuki frowned. “I hate you,” he hissed. “You are just chalk full of those feelings today, kid.” Katsuki groaned loudly and extricated himself from his mother’s gentle grip, stomping up the stairs with a few curses tossed over his shoulder to avoid her less-gentle, bitch-ass cackling at his expense. “C’mon Nade!” Katsuki called, grinning proudly to himself when he heard the sound of her nails scrabbling up the stairs behind himself. “Good girl,” he praised, waiting for her to trot into his room before he closed his door.
Still in the living room, Masaru fell into Katsuki’s abandoned space on the couch, intertwining a hand with his wife. “He didn’t slam it,” Masaru pointed out quietly, a wide, wobbly smile crawling over his face. MItsuki eyed the staircase for a long moment before raising their clasped hands to place a kiss on her husband’s wedding band. “Guess we’re not fucking this whole parenting thing up after all.” Masaru’s hair was greasy where it brushed against her neck, his body warm in all the places they were connected, and Mitsuki was…happy. She carefully stroked Masaru’s bangs away from his forehead while he began to sniffle on her shoulder, the sound of Katsuki’s raucous laughter echoing through the house, followed by the gleeful, yipping bark of Grenade the fucking dog. Maybe…maybe they really weren’t fucking up, she thought to herself- maybe for the first time since they’d brought Katsuki back from the hospital, away from the watchful, knowing gazes of the doctors and nurses, and Mitsuki was left wondering just what the hell she was supposed to do with her baby now. “You’re such a damn sap,” she murmured, tightening her grip on Masaru’s hand. Masaru chuckled wetly, lifting his face to press a lingering kiss to Mitsuki’s temple. His eyes shone behind his glasses. “Grenade,” he said wondrously, because neither of them could recall the last time Katsuki had stormed up to his room, angry, and not slammed the door. And nothing else really needed to be said. Mitsuki tipped her forehead against Masaru’s. “Grenade,” she agreed in a whisper.
Just felt like I needed to freak out a little bit about how Katsuki had the All Might card physically on him when he died. Not tucked away somewhere safe, not in a locker or in a card binder, actually physically with him as he fought Shigaraki
Because for all the grief he gives Izuku about sentimentality, keeping a card on him that specifically ties him to Izuku is about as sentimental as it is possible for a person to be