macbetha - Tumblr blog

[macbetha]

it’s surgery day! so one last preview of “four of hoards” before we do this thing ☺️

(haikyuu omegaverse fantasy au with dragon king omi and panther shifter kenma plus a lil dash of hades and persephone 🍎✨)

[macbetha]

preview of “four of hoards,” a haikyuu omegaverse fantasy au where i go fuck ass wild with the concept of dragon hoards and the societal implications of biological kleptomania over everything 😤💯

also it’s kiyoomi x kenma. saving the hades & persephone defense for another post

⚔️🪽

Hatchlings are only told fairy tales with bad endings.

The stories vary in bewitchment and severity, but the message remains the same: doing this thing will result in that thing, don’t do this or you’ll get what’s coming to you.

Frightening the young is a surefire way to control them all the way up to presentation and beyond. Kiyoomi recalls one story about a dragon that spent too much time on the ground after falling in love with a lily trader. The flowers she carried offered colors not found in the sky and she lured the dragon from the clouds with a plea for quicker travel to the next village.

She was so sweet, needing medicine for her father, and she was the first person to not fear the dragon.

The dragon never again wanted to taste the rain before it falls or be the first thing the sunrise touches. Her smile alone could sustain him.

When the brave little lily settled on dragon-back and he took her high up to show her how weightless and wonderful she made him feel, the rush was too much for her. She fell quicker than the dragon could follow, for not even love could break the roots that bound the woman to the earth.

He dove harder and faster as the ground drew closer and when she crashed against garden stones, he did the same – burying himself in the earth alongside her.

The only truth in the legend is that the elders who passed down the story did not approve of dragons mating outside their own species. Kiyoomi faced very little resistance from his people when he overthrew those leathery hags.

As a king living in terribly close proximity to his people, Kiyoomi has come to acknowledge some advantages of fairy tales. Hatchlings are downright feral when bedtime threatens to end their fun. The whole mountain would suffer if a spooky parable didn’t lure the hatchlings to their nests. Ghost stories make the children huddle tight against their parents and far away from Kiyoomi. Thus, he is an enthusiastic supporter of anecdotes about goblins who hunt down noises made after dark or spirits that tickle you with chilly fingers should your arm hang out of the nest.

Kiyoomi would love to meet those monsters and bow deeply for the sake of his rescued sleep schedule. The well-rested sires and carriers would also offer their bountiful thanks.

Kiyoomi never met his sire, and his carrier wasn’t present when he was young. Her sparse visits were not inspiring, though one of her narratives lingered with Kiyoomi when she herself would not.

“Do not fly too close to the sun,” she warned. “You cannot fly as high as your instincts will have you believe. You are just as susceptible to exhaustion, hunger, and heartbreak as the rest of the world. With life comes bright, golden lies you will want to chase. Remember that the only gold worth flying after is the gold in your hoard – for that is what makes the sun rise and fall in a world of dragons.

Even you can burn, Kiyoomi, and you will if you don’t guard your heart.”

What a cruel thing to tell a child born with wings.

[macbetha]

preview of “four of hoards,” a haikyuu omegaverse fantasy au where i go fuck ass wild with the concept of dragon hoards and the societal implications of biological kleptomania over everything 😤💯

also it’s kiyoomi x kenma. saving the hades & persephone defense for another post

⚔️🪽

Hatchlings are only told fairy tales with bad endings.

The stories vary in bewitchment and severity, but the message remains the same: doing this thing will result in that thing, don’t do this or you’ll get what’s coming to you.

Frightening the young is a surefire way to control them all the way up to presentation and beyond. Kiyoomi recalls one story about a dragon that spent too much time on the ground after falling in love with a lily trader. The flowers she carried offered colors not found in the sky and she lured the dragon from the clouds with a plea for quicker travel to the next village.

She was so sweet, needing medicine for her father, and she was the first person to not fear the dragon.

The dragon never again wanted to taste the rain before it falls or be the first thing the sunrise touches. Her smile alone could sustain him.

When the brave little lily settled on dragon-back and he took her high up to show her how weightless and wonderful she made him feel, the rush was too much for her. She fell quicker than the dragon could follow, for not even love could break the roots that bound the woman to the earth.

He dove harder and faster as the ground drew closer and when she crashed against garden stones, he did the same – burying himself in the earth alongside her.

The only truth in the legend is that the elders who passed down the story did not approve of dragons mating outside their own species. Kiyoomi faced very little resistance from his people when he overthrew those leathery hags.

As a king living in terribly close proximity to his people, Kiyoomi has come to acknowledge some advantages of fairy tales. Hatchlings are downright feral when bedtime threatens to end their fun. The whole mountain would suffer if a spooky parable didn’t lure the hatchlings to their nests. Ghost stories make the children huddle tight against their parents and far away from Kiyoomi. Thus, he is an enthusiastic supporter of anecdotes about goblins who hunt down noises made after dark or spirits that tickle you with chilly fingers should your arm hang out of the nest.

Kiyoomi would love to meet those monsters and bow deeply for the sake of his rescued sleep schedule. The well-rested sires and carriers would also offer their bountiful thanks.

Kiyoomi never met his sire, and his carrier wasn’t present when he was young. Her sparse visits were not inspiring, though one of her narratives lingered with Kiyoomi when she herself would not.

“Do not fly too close to the sun,” she warned. “You cannot fly as high as your instincts will have you believe. You are just as susceptible to exhaustion, hunger, and heartbreak as the rest of the world. With life comes bright, golden lies you will want to chase. Remember that the only gold worth flying after is the gold in your hoard – for that is what makes the sun rise and fall in a world of dragons.

Even you can burn, Kiyoomi, and you will if you don’t guard your heart.”

What a cruel thing to tell a child born with wings.

[macbetha]

preview of “four of hoards,” a haikyuu omegaverse fantasy au where i go fuck ass wild with the concept of dragon hoards and the societal implications of biological kleptomania over everything 😤💯

also it’s kiyoomi x kenma. saving the hades & persephone defense for another post

⚔️🪽

Hatchlings are only told fairy tales with bad endings.

The stories vary in bewitchment and severity, but the message remains the same: doing this thing will result in that thing, don’t do this or you’ll get what’s coming to you.

Frightening the young is a surefire way to control them all the way up to presentation and beyond. Kiyoomi recalls one story about a dragon that spent too much time on the ground after falling in love with a lily trader. The flowers she carried offered colors not found in the sky and she lured the dragon from the clouds with a plea for quicker travel to the next village.

She was so sweet, needing medicine for her father, and she was the first person to not fear the dragon.

The dragon never again wanted to taste the rain before it falls or be the first thing the sunrise touches. Her smile alone could sustain him.

When the brave little lily settled on dragon-back and he took her high up to show her how weightless and wonderful she made him feel, the rush was too much for her. She fell quicker than the dragon could follow, for not even love could break the roots that bound the woman to the earth.

He dove harder and faster as the ground drew closer and when she crashed against garden stones, he did the same – burying himself in the earth alongside her.

The only truth in the legend is that the elders who passed down the story did not approve of dragons mating outside their own species. Kiyoomi faced very little resistance from his people when he overthrew those leathery hags.

As a king living in terribly close proximity to his people, Kiyoomi has come to acknowledge some advantages of fairy tales. Hatchlings are downright feral when bedtime threatens to end their fun. The whole mountain would suffer if a spooky parable didn’t lure the hatchlings to their nests. Ghost stories make the children huddle tight against their parents and far away from Kiyoomi. Thus, he is an enthusiastic supporter of anecdotes about goblins who hunt down noises made after dark or spirits that tickle you with chilly fingers should your arm hang out of the nest.

Kiyoomi would love to meet those monsters and bow deeply for the sake of his rescued sleep schedule. The well-rested sires and carriers would also offer their bountiful thanks.

Kiyoomi never met his sire, and his carrier wasn’t present when he was young. Her sparse visits were not inspiring, though one of her narratives lingered with Kiyoomi when she herself would not.

“Do not fly too close to the sun,” she warned. “You cannot fly as high as your instincts will have you believe. You are just as susceptible to exhaustion, hunger, and heartbreak as the rest of the world. With life comes bright, golden lies you will want to chase. Remember that the only gold worth flying after is the gold in your hoard – for that is what makes the sun rise and fall in a world of dragons.

Even you can burn, Kiyoomi, and you will if you don’t guard your heart.”

What a cruel thing to tell a child born with wings.

[macbetha]

preview of four of hoards, a haikyuu au - kiyoomi x kenma (sakuken?) / ossaka - omegaverse / royalty / fantasy + shifters / dragon king omi / panther shifter kenma

As a dragon, Kiyoomi has always been warned about flying too close to the sun. With life comes bright, golden lies he’ll want to chase, but he must reign his focus on the gold in his hoard - for that is what makes the sun rise and fall in a world of dragons. But Kenma’s eyes are gold like sunstone and no dragon can fly higher than Kiyoomi. Or: A Hades and Persephone AU - what if Hades left the underworld to join Persephone in her springland home?

Preview below the cut!

Kiyoomi loathes regions of eternal summer with a special kind of repugnance, yet he’s the guest of honor at a mid-year wedding in the desert.

The desert sand at the stronghold of the Black Jackal seems to magnetize to him. This event also happens to be a Miya affair: a nine-day celebration, which is tradition in these parts. Nine days of nauseating comradery and glutinous posturing.

It’s all for the nine-tailed marriage goddess the twins and their people worship. Kiyoomi’s own physician will be one of those people soon. It’s hard to swallow.

Kiyoomi soldiers on for Akaashi’s sake. He has enough to worry about with final preparations and trying to persuade Osamu to save some things for their wedding. Osamu has already spoiled Akaashi as any king should when it comes to their intended, but Osamu is still an alpha.

Resisting the urge to bite is nearly impossible once an omega has given permission. Osamu is devoted to his regional traditions but the rule about waiting until the ceremony to bite might just do the fox king in. Oikawa has assured Kiyoomi it will be a delicious scandal.

Kiyoomi takes it upon himself to gather the flowers Akaashi wants at the ceremony. The gardens are indoors, and Kiyoomi feared he was going to step into a claustrophobic nightmare, but he shouldn’t have let the term “indoor” deter him from finding the gardens quicker.

Kiyoomi expected some flowerbeds, perhaps a fountain – not a landscape that rivals the size of a gladiatorial arena. There’s enough space for hills to stretch out pillowed by wildflowers. The air is candied, pure.

Clean waterways and spotless paths make Kiyoomi almost salivate; this trip has been nothing but sandy grime. To make matters more enriching, an oversized sundial floats midair. The dial ticks as sunlight moves through the glass ceiling.

Kiyoomi can admit he’s dazzled. Rainbow phoenixes soar overhead, teleporting across the gardens in a fiery burst, and his brain quickly stops feeling like a pulled muscle.

He tucks his basket at his elbow and follows one of the irrigation rivers with his list in hand. Koi fish trail after him, hoping for a snack. Akaashi was thoughtful enough to add rough sketches of the flowers he needs, but Kiyoomi has no clue where to find individual blooms.

He isn’t too concerned. This isn’t the worst place to get lost and better odds have tried to keep him from certain treasures in his hoard. He’s never failed in that category.

Hours pass in which Kiyoomi’s natural curiosity implores him to rest on the ground and study certain plants. He can’t name many of them. Some petals are so vibrant, it’s hard to settle on which color best describes them. These ponderings don’t weaken the happiness in him.

Gradually, he finds what Akaashi needs. Kiyoomi is quite disappointed as he reaches the end of his list. The light around him deepens with the sunset’s crimson flares. The glass ceiling opens with a mechanical groan and the phoenixes fly through for their nightly hunt.

Kiyoomi’s pointed ear twitches when music starts up somewhere outside. Dinner is about to start. He sighs profusely. His hold tightens on his flower basket, and he heads in the general direction of where he came from.

Kiyoomi tries so hard to commit all his senses to memory: the moonlight is soft and pearly, the breeze sharpening as it rips through the flowers to push Kiyoomi’s curls back. He stumbles to a stop and looks around, horns illuminating the night. Kiyoomi breathes in deeply.

His wings arc to attention. Kiyoomi studies the flow of wind through the flowers to track its path. He follows the push to the north section of the garden. Suddenly, all the perfumes around him are annoying. He can’t name the smell the wind brought to him.

He can’t even describe it or fully remember it from that initial whiff just a few moments ago. It was just… new, odd. Maybe even good. Something about it makes Kiyoomi hungry. He’s never eaten as indulgently as he needs to right now.

He wants to slash his arm across a table and push over the frilly centerpieces, wants to eat with the candlesticks overturned and the curtains burning. He wants to rip his teeth through fruit flesh and salted meat, wants to be so fucking greedy -

What is he even searching for? A particularly smelly flower? It wouldn’t be right to take one when it wasn’t on Akaashi’s list, and it wouldn’t live long. The air shifts in another direction and Kiyoomi breathes, tongue light on his bottom lip. His fangs ache in his jaw.

It's not a flower but by the gods, Kiyoomi wants it. He alters his path and walks up a steep hill. He can’t explain why he’s creeping along and being mindful of his steps while his heart urges him to hurry.

That scent clings to his open mouth. His wings move on their own, spreading to catch attention and impress. He drops the flower basket. Kiyoomi is passed deciphering these responses; he must train his eyes on the source of it all.

White flowers glow over the hilltop – moonflowers yawning awake and twisting in their search for nocturnal light. Kiyoomi finds it before the flowers do.

Cloud-cover allows only a blade of moonlight over the hill, yet an omega found it perfectly and decided to nap there. Curled up on his side with his arms folded under his cheek, he is incredibly small to have such powerful pheromones.

The skirt twisted up around the omega’s knees is patterned in golds and reds Kiyoomi should recognize as the colors of a certain noble house, but right now, he is missing the faintest memory that could remind him what the world was like before this moment.

He can’t describe the omega’s scent, but Kiyoomi eats it up with gluttonous vigor. This is what red would smell like, he thinks: warm, deep, disarming. That scent is melting into Kiyoomi’s very pores and his skin tingles as his own pheromones flare in kind.

The omega’s nose twitches as he sniffs. His eyelids flicker before bolting open. The omega loops to his feet quicker than Kiyoomi’s eyes can follow. They watch each other with abundant confirmation that the omega thinks he’s about to become some sort of prey.

Kiyoomi tips his head to the side, showing his neck as if he’s ever done it before. The omega’s breath rasps to a complete halt. His tension eases a bit, as does the warning in his smell. His sunstone gaze is calculated enough to leave Kiyoomi feeling dissected.

Kiyoomi is willing, keeping his neck arched with his head bowed in submission to ensure the omega no harm will come to him. Kiyoomi peeks up from keeping his eyes low to the ground. A flush pulses down the omega’s throat.

His small hands lower from their crooked defensive position to wring together. He combs through the long hair at his hip before tucking some behind his ear. The omega hesitates, lips parting as if he’ll grace Kiyoomi with an apology, a word, anything -

He darts away, fleeing so gracefully the flowers aren’t even disturbed. Kiyoomi’s wings fall as he pants, lightheaded. One hand finds the earth where he sinks and the other touches his chest. He feels the wardrum of his heartbeat through his shirt, his glove.

Kiyoomi rises to his feet and wavers. He walks closer to the omega’s napping spot and toes the plate of crackers and cheese. A sticky knife and spoon are nearby. Bloody fruit juice splatters the grass and Kiyoomi crouches, following the trail to an opened pomegranate.

Kiyoomi takes off his glove and scoops into it with two fingers. He touches them to his tongue, but the sweetness does not ease his frustrations - it just enhances the fact he could have handled that interaction better in a hundred different ways.

Motoya’s forcing their familial bond open like he’s trying to kick in a fucking door. Kiyoomi hurries to find his basket at the bottom of the hill. He struggles to gather himself. This isn’t the first time he’s needed to be alone to process something and can’t.

This won’t be the last time he doesn’t get what he needs. Kiyoomi’s snarl flashes in the moonlight as his wings beat and rip flowers from the earth. He launches toward the open ceiling. 

[macbetha]

preview of four of hoards, a haikyuu au - kiyoomi x kenma (sakuken?) / ossaka - omegaverse / royalty / fantasy + shifters / dragon king omi / panther shifter kenma

As a dragon, Kiyoomi has always been warned about flying too close to the sun. With life comes bright, golden lies he’ll want to chase, but he must reign his focus on the gold in his hoard - for that is what makes the sun rise and fall in a world of dragons. But Kenma’s eyes are gold like sunstone and no dragon can fly higher than Kiyoomi. Or: A Hades and Persephone AU - what if Hades left the underworld to join Persephone in her springland home?

Preview below the cut!

Kiyoomi loathes regions of eternal summer with a special kind of repugnance, yet he’s the guest of honor at a mid-year wedding in the desert.

The desert sand at the stronghold of the Black Jackal seems to magnetize to him. This event also happens to be a Miya affair: a nine-day celebration, which is tradition in these parts. Nine days of nauseating comradery and glutinous posturing.

It’s all for the nine-tailed marriage goddess the twins and their people worship. Kiyoomi’s own physician will be one of those people soon. It’s hard to swallow.

Kiyoomi soldiers on for Akaashi’s sake. He has enough to worry about with final preparations and trying to persuade Osamu to save some things for their wedding. Osamu has already spoiled Akaashi as any king should when it comes to their intended, but Osamu is still an alpha.

Resisting the urge to bite is nearly impossible once an omega has given permission. Osamu is devoted to his regional traditions but the rule about waiting until the ceremony to bite might just do the fox king in. Oikawa has assured Kiyoomi it will be a delicious scandal.

Kiyoomi takes it upon himself to gather the flowers Akaashi wants at the ceremony. The gardens are indoors, and Kiyoomi feared he was going to step into a claustrophobic nightmare, but he shouldn’t have let the term “indoor” deter him from finding the gardens quicker.

Kiyoomi expected some flowerbeds, perhaps a fountain – not a landscape that rivals the size of a gladiatorial arena. There’s enough space for hills to stretch out pillowed by wildflowers. The air is candied, pure.

Clean waterways and spotless paths make Kiyoomi almost salivate; this trip has been nothing but sandy grime. To make matters more enriching, an oversized sundial floats midair. The dial ticks as sunlight moves through the glass ceiling.

Kiyoomi can admit he’s dazzled. Rainbow phoenixes soar overhead, teleporting across the gardens in a fiery burst, and his brain quickly stops feeling like a pulled muscle.

He tucks his basket at his elbow and follows one of the irrigation rivers with his list in hand. Koi fish trail after him, hoping for a snack. Akaashi was thoughtful enough to add rough sketches of the flowers he needs, but Kiyoomi has no clue where to find individual blooms.

He isn’t too concerned. This isn’t the worst place to get lost and better odds have tried to keep him from certain treasures in his hoard. He’s never failed in that category.

Hours pass in which Kiyoomi’s natural curiosity implores him to rest on the ground and study certain plants. He can’t name many of them. Some petals are so vibrant, it’s hard to settle on which color best describes them. These ponderings don’t weaken the happiness in him.

Gradually, he finds what Akaashi needs. Kiyoomi is quite disappointed as he reaches the end of his list. The light around him deepens with the sunset’s crimson flares. The glass ceiling opens with a mechanical groan and the phoenixes fly through for their nightly hunt.

Kiyoomi’s pointed ear twitches when music starts up somewhere outside. Dinner is about to start. He sighs profusely. His hold tightens on his flower basket, and he heads in the general direction of where he came from.

Kiyoomi tries so hard to commit all his senses to memory: the moonlight is soft and pearly, the breeze sharpening as it rips through the flowers to push Kiyoomi’s curls back. He stumbles to a stop and looks around, horns illuminating the night. Kiyoomi breathes in deeply.

His wings arc to attention. Kiyoomi studies the flow of wind through the flowers to track its path. He follows the push to the north section of the garden. Suddenly, all the perfumes around him are annoying. He can’t name the smell the wind brought to him.

He can’t even describe it or fully remember it from that initial whiff just a few moments ago. It was just… new, odd. Maybe even good. Something about it makes Kiyoomi hungry. He’s never eaten as indulgently as he needs to right now.

He wants to slash his arm across a table and push over the frilly centerpieces, wants to eat with the candlesticks overturned and the curtains burning. He wants to rip his teeth through fruit flesh and salted meat, wants to be so fucking greedy -

What is he even searching for? A particularly smelly flower? It wouldn’t be right to take one when it wasn’t on Akaashi’s list, and it wouldn’t live long. The air shifts in another direction and Kiyoomi breathes, tongue light on his bottom lip. His fangs ache in his jaw.

It's not a flower but by the gods, Kiyoomi wants it. He alters his path and walks up a steep hill. He can’t explain why he’s creeping along and being mindful of his steps while his heart urges him to hurry.

That scent clings to his open mouth. His wings move on their own, spreading to catch attention and impress. He drops the flower basket. Kiyoomi is passed deciphering these responses; he must train his eyes on the source of it all.

White flowers glow over the hilltop – moonflowers yawning awake and twisting in their search for nocturnal light. Kiyoomi finds it before the flowers do.

Cloud-cover allows only a blade of moonlight over the hill, yet an omega found it perfectly and decided to nap there. Curled up on his side with his arms folded under his cheek, he is incredibly small to have such powerful pheromones.

The skirt twisted up around the omega’s knees is patterned in golds and reds Kiyoomi should recognize as the colors of a certain noble house, but right now, he is missing the faintest memory that could remind him what the world was like before this moment.

He can’t describe the omega’s scent, but Kiyoomi eats it up with gluttonous vigor. This is what red would smell like, he thinks: warm, deep, disarming. That scent is melting into Kiyoomi’s very pores and his skin tingles as his own pheromones flare in kind.

The omega’s nose twitches as he sniffs. His eyelids flicker before bolting open. The omega loops to his feet quicker than Kiyoomi’s eyes can follow. They watch each other with abundant confirmation that the omega thinks he’s about to become some sort of prey.

Kiyoomi tips his head to the side, showing his neck as if he’s ever done it before. The omega’s breath rasps to a complete halt. His tension eases a bit, as does the warning in his smell. His sunstone gaze is calculated enough to leave Kiyoomi feeling dissected.

Kiyoomi is willing, keeping his neck arched with his head bowed in submission to ensure the omega no harm will come to him. Kiyoomi peeks up from keeping his eyes low to the ground. A flush pulses down the omega’s throat.

His small hands lower from their crooked defensive position to wring together. He combs through the long hair at his hip before tucking some behind his ear. The omega hesitates, lips parting as if he’ll grace Kiyoomi with an apology, a word, anything -

He darts away, fleeing so gracefully the flowers aren’t even disturbed. Kiyoomi’s wings fall as he pants, lightheaded. One hand finds the earth where he sinks and the other touches his chest. He feels the wardrum of his heartbeat through his shirt, his glove.

Kiyoomi rises to his feet and wavers. He walks closer to the omega’s napping spot and toes the plate of crackers and cheese. A sticky knife and spoon are nearby. Bloody fruit juice splatters the grass and Kiyoomi crouches, following the trail to an opened pomegranate.

Kiyoomi takes off his glove and scoops into it with two fingers. He touches them to his tongue, but the sweetness does not ease his frustrations - it just enhances the fact he could have handled that interaction better in a hundred different ways.

Motoya’s forcing their familial bond open like he’s trying to kick in a fucking door. Kiyoomi hurries to find his basket at the bottom of the hill. He struggles to gather himself. This isn’t the first time he’s needed to be alone to process something and can’t.

This won’t be the last time he doesn’t get what he needs. Kiyoomi’s snarl flashes in the moonlight as his wings beat and rip flowers from the earth. He launches toward the open ceiling. 

[macbetha]

Fic art for Free! Fic: Eyes Wide Open All the Time by @macbetha

One of the most impressive fics I had the pleasure of reading 💖 It was a wonderful delight following the journey and just wow I drew quite a bit for this fic in the past so it def impacted my art journey a lot 🤧💗

If you've been with me for a long time you'll know this is a redrawing of a charm design I made a long time ago ✨ I didn't have the money to make charms but now that I do I am unstoppable! ✨💪

Ko-Fi (Memberships/Shop) ~ Commissions ~ Redbubble

#ewoatt#we love a glowup#still love the old design a lot#very raw emotions

Post

[macbetha]

Just dropping in to say that I'm reading EWOATT for the first time since you finished and wow, it's just as amazing as I remember. I think I was there around chapter 11 or 12 and read up to 20, but never finished the story. I'm soooo excited to read it all, and I'm excited to see the rewrite!!

thank you!! i did rewrite it for original publication, it’s just such a big story i keep editing it to bits lol. but thank you, i’ll post here whenever there’s some updates on that! 💃✨

[macbetha]

I'm in the middle of reading 'On an Aisle in the Sun' on your AO3, and oml I cannot get enough of this story!! Now I'm here checking out your tumblr. I am absolutely in love with your writing style, and looking at your 'about me', you just seem really dope! I'm gonna finish your fic, then day dream about it while grocery shopping.

ok thats it... have a good day!

that’s so sweet!! omg thank you. ofmd means a lot to me 🏴‍☠️🩷

[macbetha]

honestly just curious – do you think you'll ever finish homesick martians ? if not , that's okay ! have a nice day / night !

hi honey bun! it means a lot you asked this.

i would probably rewrite the fic if i went back to it - not in the name of big changes but just because it’s difficult for me to get back in the headspace i was in with a lot of my older works. it wasn’t a good time irl and my writing style is a reflection of my current circumstance, whatever that might be. it could be something only I’m aware of but yeah, I’m really aware of it when I look at my old stuff.

so while i would love to revisit some of my older works, i have no time frame i can offer with original projects taking the forefront at this time - plus some pretty demanding health issues.

but i am grateful and elated you want to know more with the story. I haven’t posted anything in years and that’s created a lot of worry on my end, so i really needed to hear people are still interested. there’s a good few stories i’d like to redo! i promise I’ll post here should I have any updates on revisiting older works.

thank you for asking! 🪩🪽

[macbetha]

thank you to @niansue who was lovely enough to send me a charm version of some ewoatt artwork they did back in the day! thank you for sharing your talent and dedicating so many beautiful pieces to the fic.

i’m having surgery later this month and this charm has been a big motivator for me to just face my fears instead of running. grateful, grateful, grateful 🪽

(my pool coloring page just seemed fitting aksjfhs)

[macbetha]

NO KEY WITHOUT TOIL • a nancy drew fic concept (tw blood / horror clips in trailer)

decades have passed since nancy (amy adams) first visited blackmoor manor. after a divorce and the passing of her father, nancy finds herself in london accompanying maya nguyen to brady armstrong’s metamorphosis from cable tv to theatre.

nancy is all too happy to duck out of the play and take a call from hugh penvellyn, who is desperate to uncover the whereabouts of an adult jane (mia washikowska) and five other missing girls - one being mei parry, who travelled to london to meet an online friend with a passion for game design.

nancy feels just as washed up as brady armstrong. she’s been a nickerson for years now - she wouldn’t know nancy drew if that long-lost legend shook her by the shoulders and screamed.

perhaps the halls of blackmoor can guide her back to herself, whoever that might be.

if frank hardy wants to help light the path down those gloomy, twisted moors, who is she to stop him and joe? but the addition of deirdre, the married ghost hunting duo jessalyn thorton and henry bolet, plus dylan carter, who is now giving spook-ridden tours of blackmoor? well, let’s just say that rediscovering nancy drew might be tricker than expected.

my actions ensure that my name will endure, right?

[macbetha]

i miss writing free! because it’s simply been too long since i’ve written sousuke with media in a fic. i miss the clowning

[macbetha]

The original version of my fantasy story comes before any fanfic ideation of it, however, I will be sharing more of this project.

I’ve never worked harder, or been prouder, or wanted to take you somewhere more.

I’ll be welcoming you to the Order of the Orchard soon 🪷

[macbetha]

ANNOUNCEMENT TRAILER

The Fever Wing, part of a new romance/fantasy series

Coming to an AO3 near you~ (then hopefully a bookstore)

[macbetha]

19 & 37

Thanks for your patience! 💞☺️

Nineteen: Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

This is a little long 💗

I was making up stories before I even knew how to write. I was very lucky to have a mom that would play dolls with me and she would say each morning, “What’s her name today? Where does she work? What does she do for fun?” I’m so so lucky.

My mom is also a writer! She writes children’s books and they’ve always had animal characters present, so I’m sure I use all my animal symbolism because of that. She and I also have a sort of book club for fanfictions! We’ll read a story at the same time and compare notes over coffee. She enjoys Hunger Games AUs the most.

My mother’s family is small but full of incredible storytellers. My uncle that passed, he would turn his voice and use sweeping gestures and it was such a beautiful thing. He was absolutely lyrical. He could make grim situations humorous and even a little beautiful. He loved the storytelling in music and played the guitar. I have his guitar, cannot play it worth anything, but if I’m overwhelmed I can easily remember him saying, “Just get somewhere alone and listen to your records.” So stories are generationally important to me.

I can’t remember why exactly I started writing fanfiction around age twelve but I do know what was going on in my life at the time, so I’m sure I needed escapism profusely. I’ve mentioned before I wrote some Alvin and the Chipmunks at the time lmao but I also did Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. It was a balm.

I wrote fanfiction for other media like young adult books until I was I think sixteen? Well, I stopped publishing them. I continued writing them but I kept telling myself I wasn’t ready to publish whatever came next? It was weird. I just kept building the story until years had passed and I guess I let intimidation get the best of me.

Then around age twenty I started writing for Free! and I don’t remember my mindset on why I decided to publish - I’m not sure what changed in my mind - but again, I needed some serious escapism. EWOATT is exaggerated but there’s a baseline of personal experiences I had never spoken about and I needed the release. I was hurting and had exhausted all other efforts to cope. It turned out better than I ever could have imagined.

I continued writing for years up until about nine months ago. Haven’t published anything since. I was in my last year of undergrad and I’m sure people are used to me taking breaks, but this is the longest stretch since I was twenty. I’m twenty-seven now. I miss sharing stories like it was a home and I am getting back into it. 💗

I do anticipate that it will be interesting for me to see how I’ve changed. My writing style is different but in a way I definitely like! Comeback incoming wooo~

Thirty-Seven: If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

“SHIT THIS GIRL WAS SO SAD” lmao no I’m not sure. I can say that if I got to choose what words I was remembered by, I’d want it to be the Asahi quote from EWOATT: “You can’t forget, okay? That there’s good in the world.”

I also like “I’d beg him to ruin my life” (Sousuke about Rin in DOAB) / “Your hands are my hands” (Makoto to Haruka in THOM)

Thank you for asking~! 🍄🍓

[macbetha]

for the writing game: 4,5,7, and 12! 🌷

Hi hon!! Hope you’re well! Thanks for your patience 🌸☺️☺️

4, 5, and 7 are answered in previous asks 💞

Twelve: If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

A new laptop (for writing). I am terrible at spelling, so I’d like that fixed lol. I have a very common tendency to forget simple words. Like I couldn’t remember what you call the top of a jar and at 3 AM I was like THE LID!!!!! It’s THAT bad 😂😂 I mean I can’t help it so it’s not too embarrassing but it would definitely be convenient for a genie to fix it lol.

Thank you for asking hon~! 🎀💖🌸💕