#but are more immersive with colourful descriptions

[pandan-ate]

I find that I fall in and out of love with my old work. Just so happens that I fell back in love recently. Prolly has nothing to do with that 2k essay due soon.

That is to say, I had fun writing this half of the chapter. Been out of the fandom a while, but recently started reading some fics again, and it's here I realised that my adaption of BH!Eclipse is a little lacking.

Compared to the likes of his Mob Boss counterpart, he's lacking the edge, the stage presence and the invasive possessiveness everyone loves him for. It got me to reassess his motives and drive, as well as what to tweak to properly illustrate his urgency.

It's been an interesting little thought experiment, and I hope that going forward I can do him justice.

[fleursbending]

𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥, 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲. | Neteyam Sully

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : Hi, I was wondering if you could write a Neteyamxhuman!reader where the reader takes the bullet for Neteyam, so they transport her soul to her avatar and they become really emotional upon waking up and seeing her human body, dead and they all (sully family and metkayina clan) have a funeral for her human body. Neteyam comforts her and mourns with her??

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : neteyam x human!reader (eventual na'vi!reader. sully family x reader, ronal x reader (platonic).

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : thank you @karmascale for requesting this! this was a challenge to write and i hope i did your request justice! i did a few minor tweaks just to make the story flow better. this slightly deviates from the original plot in the movie! feedback is once again, much appreciated - i love hearing ur guys thoughts! this piece is my prized posession 😭😭😭 if there's any mistakes pls lmk! reader is gn!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : atwow spoilers, blood, funeral, angst, mourning/grief, eventual fluff, gsw, death, detailed descriptions of pain/slipping in and out of consciousness, seizure.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 5.6k words

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @odessa-is-my-queen

closely helped me through writing this so here is something to listen to if you want to get even more immersed ↷

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄. That's the only thought that had been drilled into his mind ever since your body had struggled to stay afloat after jumping off the ship.

The once crystal clear blue waters were now tainted with an angry scarlet colour. Neteyam did not know what the source of it was. His heart had sunken, missing a beat when your head had not popped out of the water to cheer with the rest of them.

"Wait, where's Y/n?" Neteyam, panted as he tried to catch his breath.

Prior to all this, he had expressed how you should have gone back to Awa'atlu. But your eyes had a fire that even he couldn't shoot down. His family by definition was yours as well. You just couldn't sit this one out, not this time.

Your struggled gasps answered his question, your head bobbing back underwater only to resurface seconds later.

"Nete, I think I've been shot." You groaned in pain, as you struggled to stay afloat.

"You are such a skxawng, Y/n!" Neteyam cried, immediately swimming over to your side as he helped hold your much smaller body up.

"Hey, that's not nice." You tried to retort jokingly, only to cough up blood right after you had finished your sentence.

You weren't supposed to be there. Your link machine was experiencing issues, Norm was fixing it. Tuk, and Kiri, had brought you out to the ocean as you waited. You've been begging to see baby Ilu's ever since the Metkayina clan allowed you, Norm, and Max to stay behind after Kiri's seizure. Now seemed like the perfect time to do so, but they couldn't have been more wrong about their decision.

When you three had seen Lo'ak rushing off to warn Payakan about the tracker. Your friends not trailing too far behind him, you all joined too. You believed Lo'aks words from before, you didn't know such brutal consequences would come from such actions.

It was you and Neteyam who fled to drop the tracker further away, only to witness in horror as your friends were trapped in a net, being lifted by Ikrans and dropped on the large ship.

Only months ago were you all held captive, but the stakes are larger than life now. You were horrified. Neteyam curated a plan, only on the ship to cut them out of their restraints. Then you'd all head back together. But Lo'ak wanted to save Spider, and a sky-person turned Na'vi was blocking your freedom back into the water.

You weren't supposed to be there. He thought he got you out there safely, how stupid of him to think that.

His amber eyes caught sight of your gunshot wound when he and Lo'ak pulled you on top of Tsireya's Ilu. His world was crumbling around him, and all he could do was apply pressure.

"It hurts!" You grunted, the pain like nothing you've ever experienced before.

"I know, I know. I'm so sorry, Y/n." Neteyam shushed you, trying to give you some comfort while calming his own worries.

His father's words began to repeat in his mind from the training lessons he used to teach his kids when they were far younger. This one focused on sky-people and the type of weapons they use. The damage it can cause.

"Son, a bullet wound is deadly - only if there is an exit wound."

How did a bullet even hit you? It should have been him. Now he felt like he was paying the price.

Neteyam cursed to himself, yaymak.

"We must bring Y/n back! They can help them there!" Lo'ak interjected, trying to get everyone's attention. He was worried for his friend who wasn't even in their Avatar body. The tensions were through the skies that gloomed down on you all.

Tsireya, clutching onto her dear friend for life - nodded hastily. Yipping at her Ilu, they made haste back to their village.

Neteyam previously thought his greatest loss was the time he missed out with you. But now there was a chance of truly losing all of you. He couldn't bare the weight that train of thought held over him.

When his parents had told them that they'd have to leave all they'd ever known. He knew you wouldn't follow in their footsteps. They didn't even have a foolproof plan. And it would be too dangerous for you, your avatar was not ready yet.

He wanted to stay, but his family needed him now - more than ever before. They wouldn't allow it anyway.

"I will wait for you, Nete." You had told him, speaking so softly. Your words were full of warmth, full of promise. You sounded so sure, and it reassured him so much. He was utterly devoted to every fiber of your being. You already encompassed his entire mind. Each decision he had been making lately that would benefit his future, always circled back to you.

If he closed his eyes he'd still remember every minor detail of that day. The day he had to say goodbye. It was gutwrenchingly beautiful.

You stood on a tree trunk, and he wanted to curse Ewya for having to make humans wear masks. Because as your tiny hands grasped his face, his fists clenched in sheer desperation to caress yours. But he couldn't, not with that damned mask in the way.

Instead he opted for tucking a stray braid behind your ear, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. His hands hovered over yours above his face, before grasping them. You'd never get over how they dwarfed yours, how it felt to bask in his warmth. It felt like a reminder from Ewya that you were destined to be together.

You could see the tears he was trying not to shed, and feel the way his hands were slightly shaking. His ears laid flat, tail hung low. And it felt like a punch in the gut, a harsh reminder of not knowing when he would come back here.

The fear of not knowing when you'd be in each other's presence again.

His gaze kept traveling between every feature of your face. The boy did not have any artistic ability in his bones, but he'd be utterly dumb to not remember every minute detail that he had fallen for.

This wasn't earth, there were no devices that could reach as far as they were hoping to go. No mailing system. They'd have to rely on their trust for one another this time.

With purpose, you held his chin. "I. Will. Wait. For. You." You had annunciated every word.

Determination flickered in his eyes, and his hands held onto your mask, the part that covered your cheeks. You blushed, he'd never done that before.

"I will wait for you, Y/n." He declared as his forehead met yours.

"Come on, bro!" Y/n suddenly said, wait what?

His shoulders were being shaken, and he was brought back into the harsh reality.

"Hop on!" Lo'ak tugged on his arm, as he and Spider waited for him. Neteyam swung himself onto his Ilu. They raced back to shore.

He briefly saw Ronal ushering a member of the Metkayina clan who was holding his Y/n, into a mauri.

He started to head towards them with Spider when he realised Lo'ak wasn't following. He quickly turned around and beckoned him over, only to witness him hopping back on his Ilu.

"What are you doing?" Neteyam hissed at him.

"I have to go back for Tuk and Kiri! They are still there, mum and dad as well." Lo'ak explained.

"I'm coming with you." Spider walked back over, Lo'ak wanted to argue about it - but knew they didn't have time.

He could see the conflict in his older brother's eyes.

"I got this brother. I know that doesn't feel reassuring. because I usually don't. But this is our family, I won't fuck this up." Lo'ak insisted, he didn't want to risk a slim chance of potentially losing anyone else.

"Lo'ak...-" Neteyam tried to change his younger brother's mind.

"Please, trust me. You're going to regret not being here if Y/n gets worse." Lo'ak contested, he knew he was right.

Neteyam shut his eyes, taking in a deep breath. Contemplating his choices, he knew what he had to do.

"Go, but be alert. This isn't a raid back home!" Neteyam said.

Lo'ak nodded in acknowledgment, turning his Ilu and heading back to the ship in the distance along with Spider.

When they were nothing but a speck in the distance, he quickly rushed over to the mauri he saw Y/n and Ronal enter.

He rushed in, his heart somersaulting at the sight before him. You were pale, too pale. Your chest barely rises up and comes back down. He could tell you were on the verge of losing consciousness.

"Please mother, let me ask for the humans!" Tsireya begged as she continued to try to stop the bleeding.

"Fine, go get them." Ronal allowed it, continuing to do her ritual.

Tsireya was about to get up, but Neteyam stopped her.

"I can do it." He mumbled.

He made sure his comms were on the channel that had a connection with both his parents, Norm, and Max.

"Norm, Max.-" his voice choked up.

"I don't know what you are doing right now, but Y/n is dying. I need you to come to the chief's house, now! I don't- I don't know what you need to bring but just what you can! Please!" Neteyam pleaded as he fell by your side, his fingers running through your hair.

Blood splatter was speckled on the inside of your mask, and you blinked slowly in response to his barely there touch. Gazing up at him, a pained smile graced your face.

"Neteyam, is that you?" You asked.

"It's me, I'm here," Neteyam replied, tearing up at your whimpers of pain.

"We're on our way! Eta is 3 minutes!" Norm's rushed voice sounded through his comms.

"Tell her we are here. I am here." Neytiri's voice sounded forced, holding in the emotions she was truly feeling at that present moment.

"Okay, okay. Mom is with you, she is rooting for you. You hear me, Y/n? We all are!" He hoped his words were giving you strength, he felt like anything he could potentially do wouldn't be enough. Neteyam could only pray to Eywa that his mother would be okay after what she had just heard.

Neytiri loves you like you were her own, to this day she cannot pinpoint why she held such prejudice towards Spider but not you. Maybe because his father killed her own and the fact he had destroyed her clan's sanctuary.

Your mother and father were fierce, in a sense they were seen as warriors through her eyes. Alongside Trudy, they had pioneered the revolution against Colonel Quaritch and his followers. Y/n's mother had worked side by side with Grace, while your father worked on the front lines.

Right before the battle, she had confided in Neytiri.

"I am with child. If anything ever happens to my family, please take care of her." Neytiri took this newfound information in and agreed, deep down only hoping for the best. They were some of Neytiri's and Jake's greatest allies.

But Y/n's father was killed taking a stand, and with too much sorrow in her heart. Y/n's mother carried you to full term. Only to pass away after being with you for the first three months of your life. Neytiri nurtured you alongside Neteyam. She too just like Neteyam, could only pray to Ewya that you'd be okay.

"I'm scared," you spoke so quietly that if he wasn't as close to you as he was. He wouldn't have heard you at all.

"It's okay to be scared, I've got you. You're going to be okay." Neteyam emphasised with you, trying to offer more alleviation to such a dire situation.

"We're here- fuck." Norm cursed, as Max unpacked a few things.

"Nete, I'm tired. I want to go to sleep." Drowsiness was tempting you, and the pain was beginning to fade into nothingness.

"No! You must stay awake!" Neteyam tapped on your mask, but your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

You started to seize.

Ronal and Tsireya continued to chant, as Norm turned her on her side.

"There's too much blood, Max!" Norm shouted.

It poured out like a languid waterfall, strangely just like some of the ones back in the forest. He felt the dread tugging at him, he was losing you.

He held your head to stop you from potentially hurting yourself even more when suddenly your body slumped. Your breaths come out in wheezes.

Neteyam could no longer hold back his tears, he had never felt so helpless and petrified. He wished the rest of his family was here, in a room full of people - he felt stranded.

Max clocking onto this, pitched out a thought. "I don't know if it will work, but I have an idea." He held a flashlight above Y/n's eyes as he spoke.

"What is it? We'll make it work." Neteyam insisted. He would do whatever it takes to be able to rid you of this agony.

Ronal eyed the boy, understanding his struggles. Then stared at the humans who were fumbling over Y/n's body, using foreign devices.

"You wish to transfer Y/n's soul to their avatar," Ronal replied as she listened to your heart. It was weak, but still persisting.

Max gaped at her, the Tshahik must have put two and two together.

"We cannot save Y/n from these injuries, they are fatal. That is the only way." Max further explained, not meeting Neteyam's eyes. He knew what he was suggesting was an ultimatum larger than life. But he could not see any other way, you were already advancing further in succumbing to your wounds.

"What you are asking of me is something that has only been done a few times, not once has it been performed in our clan. As the Tsahik I cannot guarantee this will be successful!" Ronal protested as she continued to tend to you however way possible.

Tsireya continued to plug Y/n's wounds, listening in, as Neteyam hesitantly let go of your hand. Moving to Ronal, he kneeled down before her.

Ronal noted one thing, the eyes she was looking into were drastically different from how she remembered them moments ago. Now it was untamed, yet persistent.

"I know my family has caused enough destruction. I know you never wanted us here in the first place. You believed we would not do our part, and I cannot fault you for thinking that way. We have learned your ways, adapted like my father did." He then motioned to you behind him.

"So will Y/n. In your eyes, sky people come from demon blood, but their parents fought on Toruk Makto's side. They made a difference, just like Y/n has started to do here. Y/n is an excellent fisher and healer. The children in this clan have warmed up to them. Because that's the effect they have on people! I swear, if you give them this second chance, they will be forever grateful. And if it doesn't go the way we wish for it to, I will not put the blame on you. The decision of whether or not she passes through the 'Eye of Eywa' only lies with our great mother." Neteyam held his chin up high, not bothering to wipe away the tears that began to stream down his face.

Ronal looked at Neteyam for a few more beats, before shifting to look at you.

"Prepare them for travel, we do not have much time before they get too weak for the transfer." Neteyam cried out in relief, thanking the great mother as he moved back over to you.

"Stay with me, just a little more Y/n," Neteyam begged, squeezing your hand encouragingly.

"I can't feel anything Neteyam, please I'm scared." You whispered to him, and he tried to put on a strong face. But he couldn't even imagine how scared you must be if he was already paralyzed with fear. All he could do was pet your head. and give you continuous kisses on your hair and forehead. Ewya, please be with us right now.

"Where are they?" Neteyam could hear his mother calling for them outside.

"In here!" He beckoned them over.

"Tsireya, get your father and gather whoever can come with us. We must leave to the Coves of the Ancestors, now." Ronal advised her child.

She quickly halted what she was doing and dashed outside of the mauri.

Neytiri's hand fell to her mouth at the sight of you, weeping as Jake whispered comforting words to her.

"Mother." Neteyam looked up at her, not knowing how to proceed from here.

"Ronal, may I bring her on my Ikran?" Neytiri in just a single moment changed face. Time was of the essence.

"Yes, you have not been where we are going. Follow along with us." Ronal commanded, gathering her things and getting ready to ride.

At this point you were slipping in and out of consciousness, but Tsireya had been able to temporarily stop the bleeding. Neytiri cradled you in her arms as she walked outside, calling for her Ikran.

The Sully family and Metkayina clan made their way to the Cove of the Ancestors. Ronal could not shake the feeling she had thought. That no matter what - they would end up holding a funeral there tonight. She dared not to voice such feelings.

Neytiri stayed leveled, flying closely side by side with Jake and Neteyam. She kept looking down at you through the short journey, checking on you. She wasn't the only one who was doing so though. Neteyam as well kept a close eye on you. Sometimes his Ikran would brush too closely to Neytiri's. She let it slide this time.

The last time Neteyam was here, you were in your Avatar body. You both had a deep love for sacred places to the Na'vi, and this one wasn't any different. Neither of you has heard of the place before, but it didn't squash the appreciation you both had for it. He recalls not just being in awe of his surroundings, but also of you. Your eyes held something remarkable, full of wonder. You'd given him one of your big grins, the one that only comes out in times like this. Your deep appreciation for monumental sites like this made him think of how your heart was just pure gold.

"You'd make a great Tsahik one day", is something he had cheekily said to you. In return you gave him a smack on the shoulder, scolding him. He harbored such great memories from that day, he loved it. He could only desire to relive that instead of all this.

The wind swooshed in her ears, but Neytiri faintly heard you say, "I like it here." She grinned down at you tearfully.

Truthfully, you don't know much about where you came from, to you - Pandora was and always will be your home. Nothing could compare to the beauty it beholds.

"Me too," Neytiri spoke wistfully.

You all were approaching the spirit tree, submerged in the ocean. It glowed like no other. The clan began to make a circle around it, linking their arms.

"Jake, we have their avatar!" Norm called from a rock not too far from the tree that they were safely able to land on. They had left before everyone else to get there ahead of time.

Jake flys down to them, retrieving your avatar.

Neytiri and Neteyam go to the same rock. They step off their Ikrans as Neytiri treats them like a feather. Your whimpers of discomfort do not go unnoticed.

Ronal and Tonawari approach them with a large leaf of sorts.

"You may place her in here," Tonowari told them.

You looked peaceful, too peaceful. You were placed in the leaf, as Ronal began to float you closer to the Spirit tree. The Sullys closely followed behind their Tsahik.

"Jake, attach their avatar to the spirit tree" Ronal ordered.

Jake nodded, placing a mask on your Avatar and activating it - an idea of Norms and Max as you would be underwater for an unknown amount of time. He connected your queue to the tree, the closest he could to the surface.

"We must put them to sleep for the ceremony to start. If you'd like to say anything to them, now is the time." Ronal gave you moments of privacy, swimming over to members of the Metkayina clan to further explain what was going on.

Neteyam couldn't remove his eyes from your Avatar that was shifted with the current of the ocean. Swaying whilst attached to the Spirit Tree, he'd never seen your Avatar look so lifeless.

Jake waved him over, "Neteyam, they are asking for you."

Tuk was crying, her head leaning against your own. You quietly spoke to one another, even while in agony - you managed to make the youngest Sully giggle.

Neteyam drew closer to you, even if you were facing away from him. Like clockwork, you felt his presence. Your head slightly turning to acknowledge him.

Tuk moved back, latching onto Lo'ak as she cried into his shoulder. The entire Sully family have given words of encouragement to Y/n, Jake especially - explaining the process and how it felt passing through "The Eye of Eywa". He could only pray you'd get that far. He was truly hoping this wouldn't be a repeat of Grace Augustine.

"This is not goodbye. When you wake up, I will be by your side the entire time. You are not alone. Oel ngati kameie." He stated, headstrong - like his father.

Neteyam wanted to wipe away your tears, he wanted to lean his head against yours without the obstruction of the mask. He realised that very soon, it could be possible. If you make it through this, that is.

"Neteyam I-I, Oel ngati kameie." You stuttered, voice cracking. That was all you can manage.

Ronal expectantly surveyed the Sullys, Neteyam nodded. It's time.

"We will now begin the consciousness transfer. Neteyam, connect them to the Spirit Tree. You may rest for the time being, Y/n." Ronal announced, everyone, witnessing their mighty Tsahik.

Your eyes fluttered shut, Neteyam looked at his family, before taking a deep breath and bringing their limp body to the Spirit tree.

His eyes widened as one of the leaves reached out, attaching itself to your back. Eywa, are you here? A comforting hand met his shoulder, his foundation. His family.

The Sullys linked their arms as Neytiri and Neteyam held onto you.

The Spirit Tree was alive, its light brightening a tenth fold. Flickering, as it seemed to react to the chanting of the clan. The Sullys could only cling onto each other more tightly as each leaf on the spirit tree lit up. It was fascinating to witness, they were just hoping it would work.

Before they knew it, the lights ceased. Ronal from above the surface halted everyone, before diving down to where you were. Tonowari, Tsireya, and Ao'nung trailed behind. They all looked to you expectantly, hoping for any sort of sign.

Gasping you awaken, struggling to catch your breath as you immediately check your surroundings. Neteyam almost choked on the water as your eyes opened, he tried to get your attention but you were too lost in your own world.

You were in the water, but how were you breathing? The mind-numbing pain was gone, and you definitely felt different. You were trying to remember and process whatever had just happened. Oh yes, the ceremony. It must have not worked, you're still wearing a mask.

By instinct your hands move to cover your face in shame, instead, you see that it's your avatar's hands. You tilt your head down, the legs, feet! It's all blue. Did it actually work?

Neteyam swan closer to your side, pointing upwards. Signing to you to swim up to the surface, you nodded. Detaching your queue, you made your way to the surface - the Sullys except Neytiri followed behind closely.

This time when your head pops out from the water, there is no bullet wound. You weren't bleeding out, you were truly Na'vi. You've miraculously been given a second chance at life.

You removed your mask as grateful tears streamed down your face. You gaped at Ronal and the Metkayina clan, "Thank you, thank you so much." You spoke to them all, signing "I see you".

When you reached Ronal, you brought her into a hug. The soon-to-be mother of a 3rd child was in shock, looking at Tonowari. The man could only grin, urging his mate to return the hug. And so, she did just that.

"Y/n!" Tuk screamed in delight as she swam over to you, you disconnected from Ronal. Mouthing "thank you again", she let a smile slip as she took in your words.

You hugged Tuk, looking at Neteyam over her shoulder. He was looking at you, differently. It was expected that he was always more attentive towards you. It felt all too similar to when he tried to remember every piece of you before parting ways. He was in disbelief.

Neytiri came up from behind Neteyam, a large leaf in her grasp as Jake helped console her.

Neteyam let Y/n lean their head on his shoulder as he squeezed you, kissing your cheek. They all realised what exactly, or who Neytiri was carrying.

Your human body.

You didn't want to look, it felt far too strange to do so. While your avatar still held features very similar to that of your human self, most of what resembled your parents felt futile. It just wasn't the same anymore, and it never would be again.

You felt grateful that you were already aware of how it felt to live amongst the Na'vi in an Avatar body. Navigating this body isn't rocket science, you've been in and out doing so these past few months.

Tsireya comes, with a handful of flowers and seashells. She delicately spreads them around in the leaf.

"In our village, we give back energy to the ocean, the sea will allow their past self to rest peacefully." Tsireya indicated to the ocean floor beneath you all that held a yellow glow.

Neytiri leans her head down, kissing your now-closed eyelids. She felt a sense of deja-vu creeping up on her. Her family follows her actions, all of them kissing your eyelids, their own unspoken version of goodbye. As Neytiri and Jake brought your human body down to the sea anemone that awaited for you, all you could think and wish for - was more time.

You didn't understand why the circumstances had to be like this. As you watched that version of yourself begin to disappear, it physically felt like a part of yourself went with it.

Y/n no longer felt naive to Pandora. They knew more than most about this beautiful luxury. Now that they'd been gifted with a body that was stronger, and more capable. They would stand with their chin held high and fight. Just like their parents had done.

Slowly everyone disperses, making their way back to Awa'atlu. Neteyam can see how drained you are, he silently beckons you to follow him. They make their way back to his Ikran, flying back home.

Everyone's asleep. You had tried to do so yourself, but you only got a good hour in before being awoken by the thoughts circling your mind. Poor Neteyam was exhausted, so it didn't take much for you to escape from his hold and make your way outside.

You let yourself sit on the shore, gazing up at the twinkling stars and endless skies. Squinting your eyes, you saw someone making their way back. Ronal.

Her cyan eyes widened seeing you, hopping off her Ilu she walked over.

"Can't sleep?" Ronal inquired at the obviously distraught child.

You shake your head, no.

Ronal sighed, "I understand, today has changed your life. It is good that you have such a strong support system."

All you could muster was a grin, "Thank you, Ronal. I know I've said that countless times today. But I don't know what convincing it took, but I will forever be in debt to you."

This time, it was Ronal who shook her head.

"I am your Tsahik, you have proven to not be useless here. But that Sully boy, he begged for me to do whatever it takes to save you. I'd like to believe Tonowari would have done the same for me if I was one of the good sky people. You are essential to Metkayina, you are one of us now."

She let her hand linger on your shoulder. Before you could get a response in, Ronal was already walking away back to her mauri.

You looked over your shoulder, she'd done the same.

Speaking it out didn't feel enough, therefore you signed it instead.

"Oel ngati kameie." She did the motion in return.

As she walked inside her mauri, someone else caught your attention.

Your Neteyam.

He darted over to you, a worrisome expression plastered on his face.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?" He blurted out, lifting your arms to check if there were any wounds.

"I am, not physically though. Thank you for worrying about me, Nete. I am mourning what I've lost, what those demons have robbed away from me." You explained to him, your hand movements were erratic as you were still trying to come to terms with everything yourself.

Neteyam clenched his fists, before bringing you into his embrace. You leaned your head over his heart, listening to the steady rhythm. It dawns on you, you could've lost this.

Your grip tightens, truly taking him in as you bring your hands through his braids. You could've lost him.

He seemed to be coming to terms with the same realisation. You heard him sniffling as he breathed you in. You made him lean back, your thumbs following his tears as you gently brushed them away. He nuzzled his face into your hands, his body shaking as he tried to conceal the depth of his emotions.

Neteyam tried to speak, his mouth opening only to close again. You let him reign his thoughts as you continued to gently caress his defined cheekbones.

You gazed into his eyes, they were dark, lost. He seemed worlds away from you..

"I simply cannot live in a world that doesn't have you in it." Neteyam spoke through clenched teeth. Like uttering those words was a physical blow to his gut.

"Nete...-" You tried to offer words of comfort, only to be cut off.

You let him - because you understand him.

He exclaimed. "You are my home! You are my person! It should have been me, Ewya worked her miracles today. But seeing you now, compared to how you just were. I keep doubting if you are even real."

Neteyam could not meet your coaxing eyes, his hands were gripping your arms for dear life. Truth be told, when he had woken up and you weren't there? He had thought the ceremony was a sick joke he had curated to cope. His heart almost gave out when he went outside the mauri only to see you sitting in the same spot you always seemed to endeavor.

"And you are mine, I am here. I am real." You carefully removed his hands from your arms, placing one on your cheek and the other on your heart.

"The great mother has given me a second chance, all thanks to you. Do not beat yourself up for something that was out of your control. We've already lost so much time, I cannot afford to dwell on it any longer." Your words settled in his soul, making itself an oasis there. It was like a thwack to the back of his head, just like the ones you'd do when you scolded him.

You're really here. He could breathe.

You were right, it all has already happened. All you can do is move forward. That you can both do, together. As a pair, you were an unstoppable force.

His eyes that were so lost a few moments ago opened, with newfound sparks of hope. A new sense of purpose. Behind all that flickered rage, directed at the sky people. They would pay for what they've done to you if they crossed each other's paths in life again.

You beamed at him, he looks so radiant at this moment. He let you lean your head on his shoulder as he held your hands in his. He traced random patterns on yours as he looked down at them.

"Tanhi, I forget even now your hands are still smaller than mine." He smirked at you as you snarled at him.

"Shut up, skxawng!" You giggled and he could only grin in return, giving your hands a gentle kiss or two.

Between one another you talked about your favourite memories of when you were human through the rest of the eclipse. Neteyam chuckled at one he was specifically fond of as you continued to rant about it.

As his nose nuzzled into yours, your cheeks became a deeper blue hue at his actions. He couldn't be more grateful for the Great Mother and her ways. Neteyam decided to take this whole experience as the beginning of something else entirely.

Eywa has secured a lifetime with you. His father was right, his family is a fortress. He will no longer take that for granted.

Neteyam may not become the Olo'eyktan like his parents were preparing him for. But wherever either one of you went, the other always followed. He will protect that honour for as long you'll let him, and he hopes it lasts for this life and every other one that the world demands of him.

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

[novlr]

how to describe? Houses, rooms, interiors, palaces, etc?

Creating immersive descriptions of indoor spaces is more than just scene setting—it’s an invitation to the reader to step into your world. Describing the interior of buildings with vivid detail can draw readers into your narrative. So let’s explore how to describe interiors using multiple sensory experiences and contexts.

Sights

Lighting: soft glow of lamps, harsh fluorescent lights, or natural light.

Colour and textures; peeling paint, plush velvet, or sleek marble.

Size and scale: is it claustrophobically small or impressively grand?

Architectural features: high ceilings, crown mouldings, or exposed beams.

Furnishings: are they modern, sparse, antique, or cluttered?

Style and decor: what style is represented, and how does it affect the atmosphere?

State of repair: is the space well-kept, neglected, or under renovation?

Perspective and layout: how do spaces flow into each other?

Unique design features: describe sculptural elements, or things that stand out.

Spatial relationships: describe how objects are arranged—what’s next to, across from, or underneath something else?

Sounds

Describe echoes in large spaces or the muffled quality of sound in carpeted or furnished rooms.

Note background noises; is there a persistent hum of an air conditioner, or the tick of a clock?

Describe the sound of footsteps; do they click, scuff, or are they inaudible?

Include voices; are they loud and echoing or soft and absorbed?

Is there music? Is it piped in, coming from a live source, or perhaps drifting in from outside?

Capture the sounds of activity; typing, machinery, kitchen noises, etc.

Describe natural sounds; birds outside the window, or the rustle of trees.

Consider sound dynamics; is the space acoustically lively or deadened?

Include unexpected noises that might be unique to the building.

Consider silence as a sound quality. What does the absence of noise convey?

Smells

Identify cleaning products or air fresheners. Do they create a sterile or inviting smell?

Describe cooking smells if near a kitchen; can you identify specific foods?

Mention natural scents; does the room smell of wood, plants, or stone?

Are there musty or stale smells in less ventilated spaces?

Note the smell of new materials; fresh paint, new carpet, or upholstery.

Point out if there’s an absence of smell, which can be as notable as a powerful scent.

Consider personal scents; perfume, sweat, or the hint of someone’s presence.

Include scents from outside that find their way in; ocean air, city smells, etc.

Use metaphors and similes to relate unfamiliar smells to common experiences.

Describe intensity and layering of scents; is there a primary scent supported by subtler ones?

Activities

Describe people’s actions; are they relaxing, working, hurried, or leisurely?

Does the space have a traditional use? What do people come there to do?

Note mechanical activity; elevators moving, printers printing, etc.

Include interactions; are people talking, arguing, or collaborating?

Mention solitary activities; someone reading, writing, or involved in a hobby.

Capture movements; are there servers bustling about, or a janitor sweeping?

Observe routines and rituals; opening blinds in the morning, locking doors at night.

Include energetic activities; perhaps children playing or a bustling trade floor.

Note restful moments; spaces where people come to unwind or reflect.

Describe cultural or community activities that might be unique to the space.

Decorative style

Describe the overall style; is it minimalist, baroque, industrial, or something else?

Note period influences; does the decor reflect a specific era or design movement?

Include colour schemes and how they play with or against each other.

Mention patterns; on wallpaper, upholstery, or tiles.

Describe textural contrasts; rough against smooth, shiny against matte.

Observe symmetry or asymmetry in design.

Note the presence of signature pieces; a chandelier, an antique desk, or a modern art installation.

Mention thematic elements; nautical, floral, astronomical, etc.

Describe homemade or bespoke items that add character.

Include repetitive elements; motifs that appear throughout the space.

History

Mention historical usage; was the building repurposed, and does it keep its original function?

Describe architectural time periods; identify features that pinpoint the era of construction.

Note changes over time; upgrades, downgrades, or restorations.

Include historical events that took place within or affected the building.

Mention local or regional history that influenced the building’s design or function.

Describe preservation efforts; are there plaques, restored areas, or visible signs of aging?

[hayatheauthor]

How To Set The Scene Without Info Dumping

Accidentally writing a manuscript full of info dumping is every writer’s worst nightmare. Info dumping can distract your readers from the heart of your story and destroy their immersion. Unsure how to accurately describe your story’s setting without info dumping? Here are some tips to get you started. 

Tip One: Pace Yourself 

It’s important to have the right pace when you describe your story’s setting. This helps ensure you give your readers an accurate mental image of your setting and characters without boring them with too many details. 

One easy way to accomplish this is by dividing your information based on the scene. 

For example, if you’re writing a scene where a new character walks into the room and find yourself info dumping their appearance, try dividing bits and pieces of their description. Start with a simple description of their general characteristics, maybe their clothes are a certain colour or their face looks worn and tired. 

Only move on to describe more details once your scene progresses. Your protagonist could maybe notice how their green eyes glint in the sunlight when they take a seat on the chair beside the window. Or they could unbutton a very expensive coat when they take a seat, with the clothing indicating their status. 

This technique can also be employed for layouts and room descriptions. Maybe your protagonist walks into a very expensive ballroom with large bay windows but only notices the breathtaking view on the other side of the glass when they take a break from their dancing. 

Tip Two: Only Mention What’s Relevant

If writers always only wrote about what was relevant to their story’s plotline, info dumping wouldn’t be a thing. It’s easy to get excited when you’re writing your WIP. After all, there are so many different things you want to show your readers to make them understand the complexities of your tale. But writers can often find themselves info dumping because of this. 

Here’s something you probably didn’t want to hear: your readers don’t need to know everything about your book. 

It’s an annoying truth, but something you need to come to terms with when writing. 

As mentioned in my previous blogs posts, it’s important to know how much of your worldbuilding should be shown in your book and when to mention which parts of your worldbuilding. 

For example, saying a new character had a tortured look in their deep grey eyes that reminded your protagonist of the rumours of their childhood might be intriguing, but it’s important to consider whether or not that little piece of information is relevant to the current scene. 

If a piece of description or information isn’t relevant to what’s going on in your current chapter then consider cutting it out to eliminate any info dumping. This is especially important during fast-paced scenes such as fights or emotional revelations. 

Tip Three: Set A (Word) Limit

If you’re really struggling with info dumping then try setting a limit to restrict how much you write. Go back to any parts of your WIP that you think have a bit of info dumping and check how many words or paragraphs that part has, then set a goal for how many words/paragraphs you want it to be. Paste that particular text into a different document and start snipping away at unnecessary information or wordy areas until you reach your desired word or paragraph count. 

You can also do this for scenes that are overly descriptive. Following the previous examples, if you have a scene where your protagonist walks into a new room or a new character makes an appearance then try cutting out bits of the initial description and relocating them to a later part of your scene in order to meet your desired word limit. 

Tip Four: Get Poetic 

Do you know when people don’t mind long descriptions? When they are poetic and paint a vivid image in their head. These types of descriptions can help immerse your reader before you move into the heart of your scene. 

It doesn’t have to be long or overly dramatic, but a good piece of description can help you set your scene without accidentally info dumping. 

However, this tip should be used sparsely throughout your book in order to ensure you don’t constantly break your reader’s immersion. It’s important to ensure your poetic descriptions actually tie into the heart of your chapter. For example, don’t go describing a character’s hair poetically if that character only showed up to tell your protagonist something. 

I hope this blog on how to set the scene without info dumping will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and marketing tools for authors every Monday and Thursday. 

Want to learn more about me and my writing journey? Visit my social media pages under the handle @hayatheauthor where I post content about my WIP The Traitor’s Throne and life as a teenage author.

Copyright © 2022 Haya Sameer, you are not allowed to repost, translate, recreate or redistribute my blog posts or content without prior permission 

[vhstown]

writing neutral readers; a guide

(neutral = unspecified gender, race, appearance, etc.)

hi hi here's vee, the one of (hopefully) many neutral fic writers for atsv, showing YOU how to write a neutral reader for your character x reader fic!!!!

this is mainly about romantic x reader fics!!

lil disclaimer: you don't have to write neutral readers if you don't want to! this is just for people who do and might want some advice :) all of these are what works for me — there are plenty of ways to write a neutral reader!

contents page for your sanity:

avoiding white-coding

being gender-neutral

re-direction / re-phrasing

my general thoughts and opinions

before we get started: why are neutral readers great?

inclusivity! a lot of the times it can be hard to find a fic right for you especially if they tend to be for a certain demographic

forces you to think outside of the box — you can't rely on describing the reader, so you have to describe character interactions more creatively (as you'll see me try to do a lot in this post 😭)

helps with immersion! a lot of the time overly-descriptive reader inserts can make it hard to... actually insert yourself into them

your fics can reach a lot more people if they're neutral (though this is just an added bonus lol)

some colour-coding for your wellbeing: blue = general advice + examples, pink = my personal input

1. avoiding white-coding

this is a big point i'd like to address first because it doesn't get talked about enough! and all of this is in reference to a post i saw like a week ago lmao

i haven't seen this term being used a lot but the general idea is when a piece of writing is catered towards a white reader (usually implied through description)

this is usually done unintentionally but avoiding white coding is an important part of writing totally neutrally!

general things to avoid

describing physical attributes such as hair + skin tone

for example describing hair as silky/smooth implies that it is straight + excludes the majority of other hair types / styles etc

also things like running your fingers through your hair can be impractical w certain hairstyles

i tend to just avoid hair in general ? if you want you can focus on other gestures (hand holding, cupping readers face or sumn)

or just reverse the roles entirely and have reader do the comforting gestures to the canon character

skin tone is definitely more subtle however it can be implied especially through things like blushing

people with darker skin tones DO blush, but it generally tends to be less visible or not at all

instead i tend to describe the feeling rather than the outward changes (face getting warm, getting flustered, heart rate increasing, sweating, stuttering etc)

2. being gender-neutral

okay this admittedly can be difficult to write sometimes

the general rule for a gender neutral reader is to avoid referring to the reader as male or female AND any physical description specific to a certain sex

gendered terms

some people like to use they/them when reader is referred to by other characters

instead of boyfriend/girlfriend you can use partner

i personally don't do these things as you'll see in my next point about re-direction!

there are PLENTY of gender neutral pet names in english

for languages like spanish which have masc and fem versions of words i tend to use nouns (usually non-living or abstract) which have a set gender (such as my heart, my love, etc — one of my favourites is cariño (darling) because it doesn't change based on gender)

though again i rarely write terms of endearment in other languages so i suggest you do your research!

physical terms (sfw only)

also for body inclusivity

again this mainly to try and avoid implying fem!reader but also body types just a tiny little bit

i tend to avoid mentioning body shape but if i do then i use something vague like "shape of your body" rather than "curves" or anything specific

you can just write down the body part without describing it physically (chest, waist thighs, etc)

eyelashes are ... unisex! no way!

you might want to avoid makeup but this is just a *general* suggestion

i tend to NOT describing clothing choices unless it's relevant to the premise of the fic — usually vague references like your school uniform, pajamas, shoes, favourite shirt, etc

you can also cheat this if reader is wearing the other character's clothes 😭 next point re-direction WOOO

3. re-direction / re-phrasing

(a personal choice of mine + totally optional)

re-direction is when you change the focus of a sentence in order to get rid of any words descriptions that may take away from the neutrality of the reader (as you see me talking about in the little pink text everywhere or in the little suggestions in blue)

Re-direction can be used for anything! I think there's a book that exists that uses no words with the letter e and a book that uses no pronouns at all (but don't ask me what they are because I have no clue)

It's not particularly easy or straightforward all the time and you might have to change more than one sentence but re-phrasing your writing can be a good challenge! (if you choose to do so)

for me i tend to re-direct to avoid using any sort of third person pronouns (he/she/they etc) or gendered terms and to avoid using insert tags like y/n

example on pronouns & gendered terms

for pronouns i usually change "he/she/they" to "you" or a noun

"She's not welcome here" could become "Your friend isn't welcome here"

Or the sentence may change entirely to convey the same meaning. The woman turned to you, speaking one simple command: "Get out."

I also tend to use more masc / neutral terms in casual settings like "dude" or "bro"

I also avoid the use of "partner" (though this is just nit-picky) ex. "Is this your partner?" might become "Oh, [character] talks about you all the time!" (entirely dependent on context and if you care enough lol — one of the less clear-cut redirections)

while you could obviously use they in this scenario i personally don't out of preference (to me they/them is an nb set of pronouns if the gender isn't ambiguous and blah blah blah) but it doesn't really matter

example on insert tags

"(Y/N), wait!" can become "Hey, wait!"

Or you could use "your name" rather than a placeholder. He called your name, running behind you. "Wait!"

like i mentioned before things like clothes and favourite foods all tend to revolve around the character rather than the reader. in a lot of cases writing about the foods the character likes or wearing the clothes the character owns can actually be more immersive than inserting your personal preferences into a pair of brackets (in my experience at least)

4. general thoughts and opinions

one big thing i wanted to point out is that it's actually good for your writing to "ban" yourself from using certain terms and descriptions. i find that i focus a lot more on describing events, emotions and character interactions rather than being caught up on the reader.

fem!reader and masc!reader are GREAT too! amazing beautiful wonderful keep writing those — but i think gender neutral readers help to avoid a lot of biases that might (albeit unintentionally) come with a specific gender

and being inclusive for all kinds of readers when you're writing a neutral reader is so important!

to conclude

if you exclusively write one type of reader that is absolutely fine :) write what you want and be happy doing it

neutral readers are GREAT but so difficult to write so pls don't worry if u mess up sometimes 👍

i am still figuring out ways to make my writing more inclusive and i wouldn't know without other people's input! so please feel free to drop ur personal gripes or advice

this post is subject to edits (cuz i always forget to add something and it is very ranty spammy random lol)

this post can be found in the "favourite posts" section of my navigation (pinned)!

reblogs r appreciated if u found it useful <3

[hisui-dreamer]

the edge of adventure

Pairing: Jade Leech x gn!reader

Synopsis: Hiking can be thrilling, but even more so when a certain eel is with you.

Tags: hiking, fluff, slight banter, reader has hair, bot proofread

Word count: 1k+

Notes: i went hiking on a trip by the seaside and of course, hiking reminds me of this slippery eel<3

Masterlist

As you approached the trailhead, the warm, golden light of the sun spilt over the landscape, casting the rolling hills and jagged cliffs in a soft glow. Jade was in his element, practically gleaming with excitement as he led you up the treacherous path.

He had invited you on this outing a few days ago, his voice infused with a bubbling enthusiasm that was so rare for him as he enthralled you with vivid descriptions of the rugged sea cliffs and the undulating hills, promising magnificent sights that would leave you spellbound. His words painted a picture of a spectacular adventure that would take you into uncharted territory. Having been rather exhausted by your errands at school and in need of a break, the thought of immersing yourself in nature was a balm to your frazzled nerves. The lure of the great outdoors, with its stunning vistas and vibrant colours, was too hard to resist. What better way to lift your spirits than the dazzling sky?

His tall, lean figure strode confidently ahead of you, a backpack slung over his broad shoulders. Every so often, he would glance back at you with an encouraging smile, lending you a hand where the steps were unsteady and slippery. You could tell he was elated to explore the rocky landscape and discover new wonders, his gaze scanning the rocks and cliffs with a childlike curiosity.

The salty air filled your lungs as you neared the top of the cliff, and the sound of crashing waves grew louder and more insistent, beckoning you closer to the cliff's edge. Jade's eyes lit up as he spotted an interesting patch of mushrooms growing by a tree, and he eagerly took out his camera to snap a few photos, before carefully harvesting the fungi.

Meanwhile, you were transfixed, gazing out at the endless expanse of cerulean sky and sparkling ocean. The sea cliff was a towering behemoth, standing high above the tumultuous waters below. The waves were a symphony of power and violence, rising up in towering peaks, their foamy white caps akin to glaciers reaching for the sky before crashing down onto the rocks below with incredible force. A frothy contrast to the cliff's rough and jagged surface, the sea foam clung to the rocks like delicate lace. It appeared as though nature had woven an intricate tapestry onto the jagged rocks, smoothing their sharp edges.

As you stood on the edge of the sea cliff, the raw power of the waves crashing against the rocks below filled your senses with a thrilling sense of danger and excitement. The wind whipped at your hair and clothes, as if taunting you to take one step too far.

"Are you sure you should leave your back open like that?" His words broke through your trance. "Someone cruel might just push you, you know." You turned around to see his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes glinting with a mix of playfulness and sadistic glee.

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, his teasing only adding to the thrill of the moment, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. "Haha, you wouldn’t do that," you chuckled, calling his bluff.

His eyes widened in surprise before a wry smile spread across his face, revealing his sharp teeth that twinkled in the sunlight. "My, what confidence you have in me, dearest," he said, his words laced with a mix of amusement and challenge.

"I trust you," you said, your voice firm and steady. "And besides…" You took his hand and pressed it to your chest, feeling your heart beating strong and steady. "Even if you did, I'd just come back and haunt you. There's no way you're getting rid of me that easily!"

You tugged on his arm playfully, the force pushing you back a step. "Go on, I'd like to see you try," you said cheekily.

As the wind continued to whip around you, Jade's teasing demeanour suddenly melted away, replaced by profound affection.

He let out a soft sigh as he enveloped you in his embrace, his arms like a fortress around you, providing a sense of safety and protection. As he held you close, you could feel the steady thud of his heart against your chest, a rhythmic beat like the tide of the ocean.

"Mmm, my dear pearl," he murmured, his voice a smooth caress of love. "You truly are so endearing."

With those words, you felt a warm and comforting sensation spread through your chest, a strong sense of love and belonging that made your heart sing.

You leaned into Jade's touch, resting your head against his chest and breathing in his musky scent mixed with the freshness of the sea. As you closed your eyes, you felt his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back, a tender and soothing gesture that made you feel safe and loved.

With a gentle but firm movement, you pulled out of his embrace, your hands still clasped tightly together as you looked up at him with a bright and eager smile.

"Come on, Jade," you said enthusiastically. "We've still got so much more to see! The day is just getting started."

As you spoke, you noticed a fleeting hesitation in Jade's gaze, his eyes reflecting a reluctance to leave the comfort of your arms. You reached for his hand, fingers entwining with his, his gloves a barrier against the chill of the morning air, and tugged him forward, urging him to embrace the anticipation for the journey ahead.

Shaking your head fondly, you pressed a tender kiss to his cheek, the last remnants of his hesitation melting away like snowflakes in the spring sun under the warmth of your affection. His sigh was heavy, but it was a sigh of surrender, as his eyes once again alit with the thrill of exploration. "You're right," he said, a hint of eagerness creeping into his voice. "Let's get going."

Without another word, you resumed your journey down the path, the cool breeze tousling your hair as you gazed in wonder at the breathtaking scenery that surrounded you. The verdant foliage of the forest stretched out before you, dappled sunlight filtering through the leafy canopy overhead. And with him by your side, everything would only seem more enchanting and wondrous.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[symptomsofdeceit]

I WAS IN A SLUMP AND HAPPENED TO SEE YOU GAME ON ITCH.IO AND DECIDED TO PLAY IT. Looking at the description I was 100% I was going to favour Thaumo. Went into the game all like "I'mma pick all the choices for Thaumo, IDC about that blond rando-" And then I played the game and Nalis became my absloute favourite and completely stole the entirety of my heart and I'm bAFFLED.

HONESTLY YOUR GAME SO FAR IS AMAZING! IM IN LOVE, THIS GAME IS NOW STUCK ON MY MIND AND MADE IT TO THE TOP OF MY FAVOURITE GAMES LIST!!! It really helped get me out of that slump I was in and get to work!! I absloutely adored the characters and their psyche. The way you have written Nalis's manipulative behaviour is absolutely fantastic and I'm blown away by how well his gaslighting is in his ending route, I sincerely was questioning if it was him or not until it was confirmed. Not to mention your character designs for them is really eyecatching! I love their animal traits! Speaking of that,,, YOUR WORLD BUILDING FOR THE SPECIES, DISEASE, AND SOCIETY HAS ME HOOKED! What an extraordinary concept you've created, it's so imaginative and fuels my brain with excitement and I can't wait see the next update for the game! Another thing which I feel like may be small, but it goes a long way is letting the player choose a colour they like and applying it to the UI, as well as choosing the backstory, it adds more personalization to the whole game and allows one to get more immersed into the story! You have done a wonderful job and made something so creative and unique in my eyes 💕💕💕

EnouGh gUshing from me otherwise I may not stop, but I have a Nalis question cause I crave Nalis content;

Could we possibly get some Nalis HCs? Either SFW or NSFW?

I’m so, so happy that you enjoyed my demo so much!!!! Really this means SO much to me. I’m also really glad you’ve been able to get out of that slump!!!! This entire message has me staring at my phone like (｡ŏ﹏ŏ)💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

I just started learning how to use Ren’Py for this project, it’s been super fun but the color changing UI (& text changing color to fit it) took me the longest to get right out of everything coding wise lol. I’m glad you appreciate it!!

I’d be more than happy to provide you with some Nalis HCs!! I’m almost finished with his nsfw alphabet & there will be a lot of HCs there. I’ll try to prioritize finishing it tonight or tomorrow if I can!! 🫡🫡

[vaya-writes]

The Wyvern's Bride - Part 3.6

When Adalyn gets sacrificed to the local wyvern, she’s a little annoyed and a lot terrified. Upon meeting the wyvern, she discovers that he’s not particularly interested in eating people, and mostly wants to be left alone. In a plot to save himself from the responsibilities his family keep pushing on him, Slate names Adalyn as his human Envoy, and tasks her with finding him a wife.

3000 words. Cis female human x Cis male wyvern (slow burn, arranged marriage, eventual smut). firefly-graphics did the divider.

Masterlist - Previous

No notable content warnings. Some mild descriptions of food. Enjoy another date, and pining getting worse and worse for Adalyn.

Despite Adalyn’s courage and resolve in pursuing Slate, it's hard to break from their old routine. Slate continues waking Adalyn before he leaves for work, bidding her gentle goodbyes. Adalyn throws herself into the kitchen, and immerses herself in gardening. During the evenings she’ll read, pouring over Rin’s treatise. Sometimes she even puts ideas to paper – crops and flowers she envisions planting if she had a place larger than the spire-side plateau.  

There are small changes. Ones that feel more like a result of their honest discussions, rather than the colours and perfumes that Adalyn starts to wear. Slate makes more of an effort to appear at meals. He rarely shows for breakfast, but he attends more dinners than he misses, and usually warns Adalyn in advance if he won’t be about to make it in the evening. 

Adalyn contents herself that Slate is talking to her. Sharing meals or conceding facts about himself and his family. Sometimes his smile is too practiced, and the conversations are too formal, or stiff, but Adalyn sees the effort he’s making. Hopes he’s just flustered when she presses close to his side or leans in to brush some dust from his shoulder. 

Almost a week passes. And while Slate appears rattled by her touches and is unable to meet her eye when she wears certain colours, no further steps are taken. Sharing the bed has been her only victory.  

Sometimes she despairs. Frets at the mirror too long or lingers in the main-way before bringing Slate his lunch. Questions herself. Wonders if she’s being too aggressive when his speech stalls. Feels rebuked when Slate says his goodbyes – sometimes in the middle of a conversation – to return to his work. Perhaps Slate is just... quirky. Socially haphazard. Shy. Or perhaps they’d never be anything more than friends.  

One night Slate is late to return to the Tower. He’d warned her about it. Told her not to wait up while he started hollowing out the next floor of her Spire. He’s tired; feet dragging and shoulders slumped as he trudges to the wash area. He hadn’t bothered rinsing before coming home. 

Adalyn watches from her spot in bed as he shucks off his shirt. It lands beside the laundry pile, a small puff of dust rising from it. She raises her brows, but Slate hasn’t looked her way. Hasn’t noticed she’s still awake.  

He turns to the balcony and carries in their reserved water, tucking the barrel against his hip in an impressive display of strength, only needing one hand to keep the water steady. His free hand goes to unlace his pants and he kicks his boots off as he walks. 

Adalyn’s face burns. Thankfully he steps behind the wooden partition before she can see any more of him. 

She rolls over. Listens to him pour the water and strip the rest of his clothes. She swallows, heart thumping. The expanse of Slate’s scaled back, the ridges of his spines, the scar over his heart; they’re absolutely burnt into her mind. When they’d met she’d been curious as to how far his scales extended. The unspoken question had finally been answered. 

Except now she can’t help but wonder what the rest of him looks like. If the scales extend to his legs. Across his hips. The colouration below- 

Adalyn bites down on her lip, scolding herself for the turn of thought. She does not need to be thinking about a naked Slate right now. Even if it’s hard to think elsewise with Slate undressed so close by. No. She does not need to indulge her imagination. 

She wonders if the scales of his back would feel different to the ones on his arms. How they’d feel flush against her skin. 

Adalyn groans and pulls a pillow over her face. Clenches her thighs together and brings her knees to her chest. It had been nearly three weeks since they’d been married, and the touch starvation has her feeling desperate. She’s used to the wide berth her neighbours had given her, but has always had privacy to take care of her needs. Without it, things are getting more and more frustrating. Being reminded that Slate is quite attractive is just another straw. 

When he climbs into bed she lies still, worried about what she might do if she allows herself to relax; to acknowledge the warmth beside her. As the night goes on her tension dissipates, and she goes slack, but Slate keeps weighing on her mind. The sudden upwelling of want doesn’t assuage with time.  

She sleeps poorly that night, gripped by vivid dreams and waking up with an ache she can’t quite placate. 

She’s been trying hard enough that she’ll readily admit she likes the wyvern. Romantically. That she wants to try something more with him. With the morning light she’s forced to admit that she might just want the rest of him too.  

Perhaps she should start pushing again. 

--- 

“How would you feel about another day trip?” 

Slate’s attention comes back to Adalyn. They’d been eating lunch in silence, lost in their own thoughts. He shrugs. “I’d love one. Did you have something in mind?” 

“I’ve never been to the Inland Sea.” 

His brow crinkles. “Why not? We could fly there in less than an hour.” 

Adalyn gives him a teasing grin. “Well, you’ve never offered to take me.” 

He rolls his eyes, before considering the details. “The y distil salt at Harrock. We could pick some up. And we could have fish for lunch. I could take you to the harbor and we could hire a boat? Or maybe just walk on the beach?” 

Adalyn pales. “I’m not too sure if I want a boat ride. But I’d love to see the beach. I’ve been told there’s an inordinate amount of sand. And that it smells completely different. I don’t get how a place can smell like salt, but I’d love to find out.” 

“We could go tomorrow?” 

Adalyn is delighted by the prospect. She gives him an easy, open smile. “I’d love to.” 

His returning smile is hesitant, but genuine. Then he runs his hand through his hair and drops his eyes. “I’ll look forward to it. But I’d better get back to work.” 

The dismissal makes her pout. Caught off guard by Slate’s hasty retreat, she doesn’t have time to formulate a smooth reply. Doesn’t know what to do to lure him back.  

Daring and clumsy, she grabs him by the hand. “See you at dinner?” 

He looks wide eyed for a moment, staring down at her before his face softens and he smiles again. “See you at dinner.” 

--- 

Adalyn looks over her collection with a frown. “How should I dress today?” She directs the question to Slate, sitting at his desk. 

“Something presentable and comfortable,” he shrugs. His focus is on a map. 

Adalyn considers some of the summer dresses. They’re shorter and easier to move in, if unseasonable. She spies a high waisted dress with a tie neck collar and bell sleeves. The pale blue colour would probably look nice against the ocean backdrop. Blue is also considered a somewhat risqué colour for most types of wyverns.  

She holds it up. “Maybe I’ll try a new one?”  

He’s silent and she glances to him, expecting him to be nose deep in his papers. But he’d heard her, and is staring at the dress, mouth open like he’d gone to say something and then lost his train of thought. 

She hides a smile, committing his expression to memory. “Is this alright?” 

“Uh,” he flounders for a moment. “It looks suitable.” 

She raises a brow. “I also enjoy looking nice.” 

He looks away, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “It’d look nice on you too.” 

Adalyn grins and dresses for the day. In the privacy of the bathing area, she dabs some of Rin’s perfume onto her skin, to compound the effect. Before she steps out, she braids her hair back in preparation for the flight. 

Ready to leave, they linger at the balcony. Slate is barely able to look at Adalyn, glancing between her face, the dress, and his feet.  

“It’s going to be a long flight,” Slate musses his hair. “Are you ready?” 

Adalyn nods and steels her resolve as Slate picks her up and steps out to the balcony. This part of the flight is always the worst. When he swings over the balustrade and drops into the air, her muscles lock up, and it’s a fight not to scream. Only practice and begrudging trust make the ordeal any more bearable than it was the first time.  

When the chest behind her expands and hardens, and the shadows holding her morph into raptorial feet and scaled legs, Adalyn opens her eyes. Despite the bird-like shape to Slate’s legs, he has more range of motion, and manages to press Adalyn against his chest, rather than dangling her beneath him. She’s glad for it; the way Slate ducks and swerves around the Spires is enough to keep her tense, but she feels secure, held against him. 

They soar over the familiar sprawl of Clearwater Valley, the flight mostly in silence. Southward they continue, following the thin stream of water that gathers through the valley, growing in width and volume until it becomes a moderate river. Adalyn traces the blue line with her eyes, awed to see its path from the air.  

She barely has time to take in the delta. To examine the change in plant life and the colours beneath her, because suddenly ahead is the Inland Sea. It’s silvery blue expanse churns beside them, and Adalyn is transfixed at the sight. It stretches to the horizon, and Adalyn can’t help but wonder at its real extent.  

The follow the coast eastward until a settlement comes into view; a town of moderate size sitting on the water’s edge. White sailed ships sit in its harbor, and the buildings back up against the encroaching forest, flush against the green. As they decrease altitude, Adalyn picks out the details; the main road bisecting the town, the square on the ocean side, the carts and tiled roofs.  

Slate lands them outside of Harrock before shifting into his human form. Once on the ground the town sits in the distance, a moderate walk along the beach from them.  

Warmed by the morning sun, the pair strip off their shoes and take their time walking the beach. Adalyn marvels at the feeling of wet sand beneath her feet, and stares wide eyed at the occasional crustacean scurrying along the shore. Slate points out various sea birds, molluscs, and shells, and shows Adalyn how to dig for pipis. She watches him remove his jacket and roll his sleeves up, eying the fit of his vest appreciatively as he bends to claw at the sand with his bare hands. Sometime during her ogling she’s struck with the mundanity of the moment and has to cover a smile.  

As they walk he talks about different kinds of fishing; the tools involved and where each method is best used. Adalyn listens with her usual interest. His lilt is off; more rushed than usual, as if Slate making a larger effort to fill the silence. 

They make their way towards Harrock, climbing off the beach to walk in the shade. It’s unseasonably warm, and Adalyn feels flush. Slate looks it too, but that might be his nerves. 

By the time they reach town Adalyn has grown irritated by the sand between her toes. She has to stop to dust it off the best she can with a stocking, before putting her boots back on.  

At the main gate they are met by a pair of guards, hopping nervously from foot to foot. They wave the couple in with hardly a glance, eyes glued to the sky. 

When they pass out of earshot she turns to Slate. “Perhaps we should wait until after sundown to leave.” 

He glances at her, before looking away suddenly, eyeing his shoes. There’s an idle frown on his face. “You’d be cold on the flight back.” 

She bumps him with her shoulder. “Maybe my rich husband could buy me a coat.” 

He snorts, before hesitantly offering his elbow. He stands stiffly, none of his usual ease in sight, clueing Adalyn in to just how much of an effect the dress and perfume are having on him. 

She links her arm with his – heart fluttering a little with the gesture – and allows Slate to show her the sights. Even if he barely looks at her for more than a moment, he still makes for an excellent tour guide.  

They start with Northside, the district that backs into the forest. They browse the market (and indeed pick up a coat) before crossing the main thoroughfare into Portside. During the afternoon they stop for lunch, eating a share of baked fish and an assortment of charred clams and mussels. 

Continuing their leisurely meander, they pause at the edge of the harbour, where Adalyn’s feet take root before she can step onto the weathered planks of a pier. 

“We still have time for a sail?” 

Adalyn shakes her head, the thought of open water making her stomach clench. “Not right now.” 

Slate takes in her stance, worry flitting across his features, before searching the area. He gestures to a bench. “We could look at the boats from there instead?” 

Adalyn agrees, following him to the seat. Once settled Slate points out the different vessels, explaining their function and makeup, though admitting his knowledge of water faring is somewhat rudimentary. Adalyn listens avidly until that statement. “Isn’t Rendcliff by the sea?” 

His cheeks darken. “I can’t know everything, Adalyn.” 

The couple drift into silence as the sun sets. 

Slate glances at her. “Are you afraid of water?” 

She bites down on her lip. Is too ashamed to meet his eyes. “Yeah.” 

His tone becomes gentle. He inches closer and his fingers brush against hers. “Did something happen?” 

She shakes her head. Sighs. “No. No. I just never learned to swim. I don’t like the idea of being in water too deep to stand in.” 

His hand fits over hers and squeezes. “No one could teach you?” 

“There was no place to teach me. Only fools swim in the Red River. By the time I moved to the Valley I was too embarrassed to learn.” 

He considers. “I don’t think there’s anything to be embarrassed about. Rin didn’t know how to swim when I met her. And she’s centuries older than I.” 

“Hm.” 

They sit in silence again until it grows dark. They stand in unison and walk back to the gate, side by side. 

“I could teach you?” 

Adalyn turns sharply, but he’s not looking her way.  

He hastens to add, “I mean, if you wanted. I helped Rin learn too.” 

“I’ll think about it,” she mutters, finished with the subject.  

He seems to sense her recusal, and lets it go. “Okay.”  

--- 

Slate was right, and the flight back is positively frigid. She’s sure she’d freeze if it weren’t for the warmth at her back and her new coat. The Autumn chill is amplified by the height and wind, and by the time they return to the Tower Adalyn is stiff, sore, and cold to the touch. 

When Slate lands them on the balcony, he takes note, frowning down at her. “I’ll heat the water. You should take a bath.” 

She lets him fuss before stripping off her layers and relaxing in the tub. When she feels sufficiently defrosted and decompressed she dries and pauses in front of the wardrobe, wondering if she should pull out more stops and wear something scandalous.  

She muses, trying to get a feel for Slate’s mood while she stares at her options. “Did you enjoy today?” 

“It was nice taking a break from work,” he says from the table.  

Adalyn tries not to roll her eyes at the standard politeness. Picks her next words carefully, probing for a reaction. “I enjoyed spending the day with you.” 

There’s a grunt of acknowledgement from the other side of the screen. 

She scowls. It’s damn near impossible to gauge his feelings towards her sometimes. It irritates her enough that she decides to be bold, dressing in one of the more daring pieces. It stops just short of her knees and is cut low at her back, in a glossy material that feels nice on her skin.  

Slate straightens from his slump when Adalyn steps out from behind the partition. He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, and hesitates, averting his eyes. “I thought humans got cold easily,” he finally says. 

She joins him at the table. He’d made tea. Daring, she shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “You can warm me up in bed.” 

She takes a sip of her drink and watches him carefully. The fire burns low, and it’s hard to see the extent of her damage, but Slate’s face is definitely greener than usual.  

When he doesn’t make any further comment or move, Adalyn tries not to grow restless. She’s not sure what else she can do to make Slate act.  

When she finishes her drink she climbs into bed. Slate’s not wrong, and she is cold. He washes the sand from the day away before joining her. It doesn’t help, as he lies on the edge of the bed, far away from her. 

Adalyn uses the pillow to muffle her sigh. She still has no idea what Slate is thinking. Is she just embarrassing herself when she dresses up? He’s noticing her. He’s reacting. But he’s still distancing himself. Still not making a move. What more does she need to do? 

She’d told him to tell her if she pushed too hard. But she’s still filled with doubt. Aren’t wyverns supposed to be way less modest than humans? Is he trying to let her down gently and dissuade her? 

She resists the urge to groan into her pillow. The logical thing would be to just... ask. To reach out and say ‘do you find me attractive?’ Or ‘do you like the nightgown?’  

But what if he said no? 

The thought has her rolling over and curling into a ball. If he doesn't want her... she doesn’t want to hear his reply. Doesn’t want to think about how that conversation would go. 

Yes. The sensible thing would be to ask.  

But tonight she'll keep defying sense.  

Next

[wetcatspellcaster]

Do you have any advice on how to craft pretty descriptions? I find myself loving how pieces still stuck in your teeth is written and being obsessed with just how vivid your descriptions paint it

hi anon! thank you for the compliment, I really appreciate it! I don't consider description to be a particular strength of mine so I'm very flattered that people have found something to enjoy in my work, more than anything :D

I'll do my best to answer your question!

How I approach descriptions! - under the cut!

I tend to only go into extreme detail for essential things. Often, unless a setting is important, a few details (the colour, the vibes, the size) are all that are needed for then the reader's imagination to fill in the rest. This makes an allowance for you to go ham on what is important, and in turn also signals to the reader what should be important to them. If you say the room is white but then spend a paragraph describing the person in it, they know the person is what is important, not the room. Think of description as a way of signposting and determining focus.

Describing around something, or using description to avoid focusing on the action, can sometimes perform the inverse of this - why is the character focusing so intently on this meaningless detail, rather than the matter at hand? Are they, mayhaps, avoiding something in the room? This tip bought to you by Rosalie, the 2nd most unreliable narrator after Astarion.

You want a mixture of short sentences and complex sentences, so that the description doesn't interrupt the pacing of the wider scene. Sometimes, you just need to state something simple, e.g. 'the room was blue' and then that avoids a paragraph describing the room as blue that interrupts the action. Pieces is a weird fic for this bc there are whole chapters that are just exploration, so I had to be descriptive to generate pace, when often all it does is undercut it. But in scenes where shit is actually happening, I can just say "they were in an office" and that's basically all that's the description that is needed. What's more important is they're about to fuck in that office.

Be careful of too many overextended metaphors or similes. Everyone has their bandwidth and patience for purple prose. In my experience, less is more. I'm honestly sure my writing is purple prose, for some people, and this is me being restrained. So basically, save your metaphors for when they really matter. Use one per thing you're describing, at most (less, when also using the rule above).

Alternatively, you can make a simile into an understated metaphor without using many words. Instead of 'the ceiling looked like ribs', 'Rosalie walked down a corridor feeling like she was being swallowed into the belly of a dragon' I can just say 'the ribs of the ceiling' and 'they were led into the bowels of the mansion". Single words can create an image, without being florid or labouring the point.

Descriptions tend to circulate around the visual - a colour, a pattern, a facial expression, the beauty of a space, the visible contents of a room, etc. (we all love knowing what pretty clothes our blorbo is wearing). but descriptions that focus on sensation are also my go-to. Yeah, use all the five senses for variety, etc., but stating how the space/person/item makes the person feel tailors the experience of the setting to that character, specifically, and makes the reader more immersed in their perspective.

Use things you yourself have experienced. This tip bought to you by: Rosalie getting knocked unconscious by Wish, after her author had just been under general anaesthetic for the first time! Rosalie getting panic attacks, after her author experienced somatic symptoms of anxiety! Rosalie going to live by the sea, after her author went on holiday to the Scottish Coast! I am one of those neurodivergent people who catalogues a feeling as I'm feeling it - you don't have to be like that. But if you use stuff you or someone close to you has personal experience of, it feels realer - what do you experience, when you feel fear? What's a landscape or setting you remember vividly? etc.

If it lies outside your experience or expertise... read. Read extensively, and in the genres you like or want to emulate. I read a lot, I highlight and annotate books I read, underlining descriptions I enjoyed, ESPECIALLY on kindle so I can find them later. It will teach you fun and unusual descriptions... it will also teach you the established shorthands. If you've never had a panic attack, how are panic attacks signalled in fiction? Using a trope is so totally valid, and often helpful for getting the reader on the same page as you. It's ok if you're using a cliché, if the cliché serves you.

Finally... be a little silly with it! Take risks! Use weird descriptors. Use odd metaphors. Use your description to make jokes, so it's not just a boring stage direction! Description can feel dull sometimes, bc people don't use it to do anything except set the scene. If your description is doing other things - being funny, telling the reader something about the pov character's voice or how their mind works, creating an odd image that sticks in the person's brain - this makes it more enjoyable to read. In these cases, not only is it just providing cues for the reader to understand where the character is or what they're doing, it contributes to the overall experience of the story!

Hope any of that helps lmao. x

[novlr]

Weird question here: do I need to describe my character's clothes? Obviously I need to if it's important to the story or setting (if they're wearing a beautiful ruby gown at a ball, or maybe dirty and torn to indicate a fight) but just on a normal day? Do readers need to know what characters are wearing?

The issue of whether or not to describe a character’s clothes is a common dilemma faced by many creative writers. The answer to this question, however, is not a simple one. It ultimately depends on the specific context and requirements of your story. Let’s dive into how to strike the right balance in descriptions of clothing, and when it helps or hurts your narrative pacing.

When should you describe a character’s clothes?

Setting the tone and atmosphere

In scenes where the character’s clothes significantly contribute to the setting or atmosphere of the story, a detailed description is good to include. A vivid description can immerse a reader fully in the scene. Examples could include a fancy gown at a ball or an inappropriate costume at a house party.

Defining characters

Clothes have the potential to be a powerful tool in defining your character, as they can reflect their social status, personality traits, and even their current mood or mindset. Whether it’s a sleek suit that exudes sophistication or a colourful ensemble that showcases their vibrant personality, the clothes your character wears can provide valuable insights into who they are when they are first introduced.

Moving the plot forward

The type of clothing a character wears can help to move your plot forward. A character in a magician’s robe, for instance, can spark reader curiosity but also heighten anticipation for the future role they may have in the story. It becomes a visual cue, subtly hinting at the possibility of magic and the potential impact the character might have on the story’s unfolding events.

When should you not describe a character’s clothing?

When it doesn’t add anything to the story

It is important to consider whether a description of a character’s clothing adds crucial information to the story or character development. If it doesn’t serve a purpose in enhancing the plot or providing insights into the character’s traits, it is usually best left out. Instead, focus on elements that truly matter and contribute to the narrative.

When it slows down the story

Detailing every piece of clothing in every scene can result in a slow progression of the story. While it is important to create a vivid and immersive world for your readers, focusing too much on clothing descriptions can detract from the overall pace and flow of your narrative. Instead, prioritize the elements that truly matter to the plot and character development. Choose key moments or scenes where the character’s clothing holds significance, such as pivotal events or instances where what they wear contributes to the atmosphere.

When it distracts from plot development

Detailed descriptions of clothing can sometimes divert readers’ attention away from the main plot and essential details of the story. When the focus on clothing becomes excessive, it can interrupt the flow of the narrative and hinder the development of more crucial elements.

Strike the right balance

It’s all about striking the right balance. Descriptions are necessary when they have a purpose and impact on the story or characters. Consider the following tips to accurately depict your character’s clothing:

Do not overload your description in a single paragraph. Distribute it throughout the story.

Maintain variety. Describe different aspects of clothing in different scenes.

Keep it relevant and contextual.

[hayatheauthor]

How To Immerse Your Readers With Indirect Characterisation

If you are a writer you’ve probably come across the term ‘show, don’t tell’. This is a popular piece of advice passed down from one writer to the next, however, some writers have wrongly presumed this applies solely to one’s description. 

Much like description, your characterisation can directly impact your reader’s immersion and understanding of your characters. While direct characterisation tells your reader about your character, indirect characterisation unveils their true personality. Unsure how to correctly characterise your characters? Here are some tips on how to immerse your readers with indirect characterisation! 

What Is Direct And Indirect Characterisation? 

In its simplest form, characterisation is the creation or construction of a fictional character. A bit of brainstorming and OC forms can make this feel easy enough, however, many writers fail to realise how important characterisation is during the writing process. 

Characterisation comes in two different forms—direct and indirect characterisation. 

Direct Characterisation 

Direct characterisation is when the author tells the readers what a character is like. It is often concise and lacks insight into the character’s personality. It is generally used when initially describing a character or during fast-paced scenes that require minimal character description. 

An example of a direct characterisation would be saying “she was kind” or “he was a very rude person”. Both of these descriptions accomplish the task of accurately describing your character’s persona, however, they are boring and sound akin to a fact rather than a description. 

Indirect Characterisation 

Indirect characterisation is when an author reveals details about a character without explicitly stating them. It is often used across literature to paint a clear picture of your character’s persona while also immersing the readers. 

Rather than simply stating a character is kind or rude, an indirect description would portray their characteristics using descriptive language. While “she was kind” sounds like a sufficient description, something akin to “her hands delicately cupped the flower buds before her, her a touch a testament to her kind heart” is more likely to immerse your reader. 

Why Does The Type Of Characterisation Matter? 

The way you characterise your character can directly impact your reader’s perception of them. While direct characterisation tells your readers about your character’s personality, indirect characterisation gives them insight into how this impacts your character’s daily life, personal dynamics, and opinion of themselves and those around them. 

This isn’t to say direct characterisation is necessarily wrong or bad, in fact, I can think of several instances when direct characterisation would be more useful than indirect. But similarly, there are several instances when indirect characterisation would be more useful than direct. 

How To Use Indirect Characterisation 

Now that you know what indirect characterisation is, here are some techniques on how to implement indirect characterisation in your writing. 

Dialogue 

Writers often fail to realise how significant a piece of dialogue can be. The way your character speaks is a direct reflection of their personality. Small factors such as their tone, pronunciation, voice and word choice help portray your character’s persona. An extroverted and excitable teenager might talk with their hands and use a lot of slang, whereas a poised butler would make a conscious effort to speak in a soft and formal tone. 

An example of indirect characterisation in dialogue would be: “Sam!” the way her arm waved above her head as she called his name drew a bout of unwanted attention, but that didn’t stop her from continuing with her calls. “They’re selling those colourful cookies you love, come on the queue is pouring out the doors.” 

I could have simply stated the character was loud and extroverted before writing out the dialogue, but the above indirect characterisation allows me to showcase her personality without boring the readers. 

Use Actions 

A person’s personality directly impacts the way they carry themselves. A happy-go-lucky character might hum a light tune as they skip through the halls of their workplace while a quiet introvert would train their gaze on the floor and only speak when spoken to. 

Tying your character’s personality into their persona is an easy way to implement indirect characterisation into your writing. Take the time to sit down and consider how a person with your character’s personality would react around others (you can accomplish this by observing people around you who have a similar personality). Once you have an understanding of their persona, figure out ways to implement these little quirks into your writing. 

Appearance 

Portraying a character’s appearance is probably the most underrated form of indirect characterisation. The way a person carries themselves, their taste in fashion, and other such physical attributes are a direct reflection of their personality. 

A confident person might be comfortable showing a lot more skin than an insecure one, a traditional person would maintain a simpler and modest outlook while a modern character would be comfortable with unconventional outfits. 

This can also vary depending on the situation your character is in. Maybe a fun-loving character fond of long loose skirts is seen in a soldier’s garb when it’s time for a fight, or a motherly figure with long unruly hair could have a habit of pulling back her curls into a tight updo before scolding her underlings.  

Blending Direct And Indirect Characterisation 

Implementing indirect characterisation in your writing is important, however, if you are aiming for an immersive piece of writing that will draw your readers in, you need to blend direct and indirect characterisations together. 

A fast chapter portraying a fight scene might start off with direct characterisation but tie into the occasional indirect characterisation that details their combat skills. A slower chapter describing your character’s journey through a foreign building could begin with winding indirect characterisations but switch to direct ones once you move onto the heart of the chapter. 

When switching between direct and indirect characterisation, it’s important to take your current scene into account and consider whether or not you should prioritise your character or plot. 

I hope this blog on how to immerse your readers with indirect characterisation will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and marketing tools for authors every Monday and Thursday. 

Want to learn more about me and my writing journey? Visit my social media pages under the handle @hayatheauthor where I post content about my WIP The Traitor’s Throne and life as a teenage author. 

[historiaxvanserra]

hey so i understand the relevance of reader being an archeron in these violent delights - and maybe that’ll be the case in the regency au fic too - but as a woc, i was just wondering if you’d consider maybe not making the fmcs physical characteristics so exclusive/specific since it’s not an oc? she could be a ward or adopted lol it’s not that i imagine anyone real, but it can take you out of the story quite abruptly when you realise you may be picturing them wrong?

very excited to read the new fic, hope you can see where i’m coming from with this, i’ll continue reading regardless because you’re super talented and i love your stories, but i thought i’d so just in case. thank you for sharing your work!

That is a very good point anon and I’m very happy you’ve reached out! Maybe it’s lazy writing on my part but I’ve used an Archeon sister reader twice for the purpose of backstory and world building but I’m sure I could go back and make tweaks here and there so that’s not the case.

I’m quite happy to rework things to make it more inclusive for everyone as I never want to make people feel left out! I try not to describe readers body size/shape or skin/hair colour for the sake of immersion but I understand that if the reader is said to be an Archeron sister that it might break the immersion as the Archeron sisters are all white women.

It’s still early enough in my Regency AU where I could wuite easily take it down and work something else out where reader isn’t an Archeron sister at all or maybe a half-sister/cousin.

These Violent Delights would be tricker but not impossible to go through and make changes.

In the meantime my Rhys fic is just a generic reader and my Azriel fic is with an (half)Illyrian reader with absolutely no physical descriptions of skin or hair colour of the reader so I hope you see yourself more accurately represented in those as they come out and absolutely going forward no more Archeron sister readers!

My DM’s are always open if you feel like you’ve got any issues you’d like to discuss or suggestions for changes you’d like to see so that my fics are more inclusive to everyone 🥀🖤

[ghostblazewrites]

Melodies Of The Sky Intro

BASIC

genre: young adult, magical realism

status: working on 2nd draft, posting on wattpad

key themes: art, poetry, descriptive writing challenge, celestial symbolism, nature, mental health, sun & moon mythology, music, unlikely friendship, romanticizing life

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

STORY

In the heart of an unassuming town, Lavender embarks on a personal journey of self-healing, only to find herself entangled in a myth that spans centuries and generations. Everything begins with an encounter with an enigmatic boy, setting in motion a celestial narrative that may connect to them more than they thought.

CHARACTERS

Lavender (she/her)

Lavender let out a sudden laugh. She was like a princess. She felt like one. Her kingdom was this never-ending field of mayflowers, and her crown was made with her own hands.

age: 15

Kind, unique, and a daydreamer, Lavender finds beauty and joy everywhere she goes. While not having many friends, she loves being around people and she adores deep connections. She’s very creative and expresses herself with art, music, and poetry.

quick facts

INFP

bad ukelele player, but is great at piano

has a gray tabby cat named willow!

morning bird, she loves waking up to the sunrise

favourite colour is blue

Eli (he/him

"You- you have to feel it. The story. You have to play with your soul and your body and your heart and your mind. You have to love each chord." He picked up his guitar. "You have to immerse yourself in a story and forget mistakes." 

age: 15

Quiet, gentle, and compassionate, Eli is a soft-spoken individual who has a talent for music and a passion for poetic words. He is dramatic like Lavender, always looking to make metaphors and poetry from mundane situations. While he seems aloof or shy on the outside, Eli quickly gets adventurous, excited and spontaneous about the things he cares the most about.

quick facts

INFJ

obsessed with the Lakelily myth of 'Eclipse'

has a dog named Luna

loves playing electric guitar

favourite colour is green

trans boy

night owl- loves midnight walks

AESTHETIC

moodboard

FACTS

☾𖤓 i started this book in may 2023, the absolute low of my mental health- it was supposed to be a quick descriptive writing prompt exercise to get my mind off of things...and quickly became this beautiful story.

☾𖤓 music is a huge part of mots- every chapter has a lyric :D

☾𖤓 the plot is pretty vague, i'll probably go into detail about it more in another post but the mystery is why it's so fun!

☾𖤓 third person, in lavender's pov (except for the prologue)

☾𖤓 the story is set in Lakelily, Ontario (no, i'm not just making every story set in canada whattt)

LINKS

pinboard

spotify playlist

wattpad

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

hope you enjoyed, if anyone reads this lol!! i'm so happy and proud of melodies of the sky and hope to post the 2nd draft to wattpad more often. if you want to hear more, please tell me idk whether i'm shouting to the void anymore

[sadswaggynerdyfrog]

My legs are numb and pinned to the bed and my heart keeps skipping beats and I’ve stayed up way more than I should have. And I seem to have been so blind because I’ve been unknowingly suffocating behind rose coloured glass and for once I cannot touch it, I cannot find the core, the rotten womb that gave birth to this watery disgust and nausea. I must confess I am obsessive and I will go to great length just to count your breaths or overhear your conversation or see how you slip on your shirt. I am obsessive and my body cannot contain me and I am made up of more irrationalities than I am made up of myself. I think I’ve crossed all boundaries of what is human and I’ve immersed myself in this vain search for equal intimacy and possession. I must confess I am ill and I do not deserve to exist as a sane person. I do not deserve to eat food out of a plate or wake up and get dressed and take the bus to work or college. I do not deserve to walk on cold bathroom tiles or water plants. I am meant to stick to another body, to lose any meaning of the self, to commit the most horrendous immoral acts, to show that I am no good and that any good I ever did was to be reached and dissected and to have someone spill themselves on me. I am not meant for what I like but I’m afraid I don’t hate what I’m meant for, searching for your Achilles heel and stabbing it and digging in it and thinking that I am giving and caring when I wipe the blood and wrap it up and kiss you on your upper lip and collar bones. I must confess. I am nostalgic and longing, I remember more than I live, I am memories and visual descriptions and sounds yet I’ve never heard any of it and I’ve never seen any of it and I’m afraid I’ve never existed everywhere. I’m afraid I long for what I’ve never had and I see myself sitting on a seat in an picture taken before I was born but I tell myself that seat is mine, that bus drove me here but I know I am nowhere to be found. There is no thrill like the thrill of going hysterical, of existing like an empty jar, ringing and echoing whenever you are touched yet never being able to touch back.

[kemendin]

Atmospheres

One of my favourite things in writing is setting the scene - the environment, the atmosphere, the vibes. And this becomes a fun little challenge I give myself when I’m trying to bring to life a canon setting in a game.

I look at screenshots and game footage, and I study the environment there - the colours and sounds and textures, the physicality of it, but also the mood. How it makes me feel when I look at it, and also how it makes the POV character feel, because those two reactions may be quite different. And then I figure out just the right words and cadence to really bring what I perceive to life in my writing.

For instance, I love the unsettling feeling of the Rakata vaults in SWTOR, and the whole vibe of Belsavis in particular, so I really tried to convey that in this fic:

Even in the depths of the cell blocks, Belsavis was never quiet. A low hum of energy was nearly constant as it carved its way through the ancient structures, and power gleamed in cold colours from the sockets set high in the walls. In the vast dimness of the corridors, the lights flickered like dying stars, and like eyes they seemed to follow the path of the intruders. Watchful. Waiting.

It was cold in the hollow passages beneath the snow. Some of the vaults were oddly temperate, warmed by the thermal energies of the planet where magma welled up through the crust. But here, Caspian’s breath shivered from him as he trotted along the sloping floor towards the surface. Scourge padded along behind him, an ever-present crimson shadow. Even though the angle of the floor put him below Cas, it did little to diminish the sense of his looming stature.

BG3 also has such rich, immersive environments, so even my so-far limited experience in describing them has been a blast. I’m very proud of my description of the Shadow-Cursed Lands from my first fic:

Here, though, it is different. The shadows that stifle this once-fertile landscape are thick, and coiling, and hungry. They do not merely lurk, waiting to consume the follies of the ill-fated; they are predators seeking prey, and they gnaw on the bones of the dead even as they stalk the steps of the living.

Dhamari can hear their hunger scraping around the edges of the campsite, where torches - plucked from rotting corpses on the roadside - now flutter and fight to keep the menacing fog at bay. The party has hunkered down for the night in as secure a space as they could find - a wide lip of stone sheltered by jutting crags on two sides and facing out into empty air on a third, exposed save for a few scraggly trees that still cling, quivering, to the precipice. More ash-grey branches hang overhead, twisting out from cracks in the uneven stone, their red leaves rattling in an erratic wind.

There is a foul tang on the air, the metal scent of dark magic wrapped around decades of decay. Even the fruits of Gale’s excellent cooking had borne the taste of it at dinner, but on the whole, the group had been too subdued by the atmosphere around them to offer much complaint. The meal was taken in taut silence, and then the weary adventurers had dispersed to their bedrolls, most drawing their tent flaps tight against the unsettling sounds emanating from beyond the boundaries of the campsite. Now, only Halsin keeps watch - minding the central fire, or else softly pacing the perimeter to check that the smaller wards of flame still burn.

I’m working on my next one now, which takes place in the Underdark/Grymforge. This is likely not the final version, but I’m already very pleased with the atmosphere I’m evoking:

The shoreline that greets them after their shrouded sail across the Ebonlake is not a welcoming one. There is torchlight to part the shadows, but it is harsh and brazen, and it glares in bronze reflections off broken stonework that climbs up and up into the cavernous darkness.

Long ago, this was perhaps a proud and impenetrable fortress. But now the structure is cracked and desecrated, seared by time and fire and caged by makeshift scaffolds that allow the duergar interlopers a means of clambering across the ruins. Yet shadows remain, uneven and treacherous, caught in the crevices formed by history’s slow forgetting of this place.

There is no beach to slide beneath their spiny craft, only a narrow wharf of straight-hewed stone jutting out into the unfathomable waters. Several other boats similar to their own are already moored there, looking unnaturally still until the silent ripples of the two new arrivals set the lake to lapping at their hulls.

So yeah! I find it’s important to establish the scenic backdrop of the story, because my brain is playing it like a movie in my head and I gotta know what it looks like and what the vibes are. (Can you tell I like describing eerie, abandoned places? xD)

[moiraimyths]

Hi there, I have a technical question about the custom MC sprites. I know it's not guaranteed to open back up, and even if it did the slots will fill quick due to interest, but I'm still curious to know the answer. The description says unique and full-body, but do we get any say in the outfit? It's fine if not, but I'd like to go with bulkier clothing to hide how skinny MC is supposed to be as part of the plot (not against that plot point either, just my preference in terms of MC looks). Thanks!

Yep! The outfit will be entirely up to you. The personalized MC sprite in the Queen's Favour tier differs a little bit from the customized MC sprite stretch goal in that the personalized MC is a complete commission from our sprite artist, so you can decide what your MC is wearing. If the customized MC stretch goal is unlocked, the mechanic will operate a little bit like Picrew in that some aspects of the sprite can be customized (skin tone, hair style/colour, eye colour, certain facial features) but the sprite's base/clothes will remain the same or only vary for plot reasons (i.e. the custom MC's clothing may change after the boutique scene in Keagan's chapter, for example).

If Queen's Favour backers decide they want their MCs to be a playable option in-game, then those sprites can be opted for as an alternative to the customized MC. Only thing we may do is make a partial-alt outfit if the personalized MC appears in-game and their commissioned outfit is too immersion-breaking, i.e. a backer asks for an elaborate gown that the MC might wear after being in TNN for a while, but wouldn't make sense pre-Ch. 3.

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The Good People (Na Daoine Maithe)’s Kickstarter is now live! Check our pinned post for links to the Kickstarter and demo, and for more details!

KICKSTARTER STATUS: 77% funded!

FLAN SPRITE STATUS: 93% (need to reach $27k CAD before 22nd)