#i AM working on the secondary wips

[cepheusgalaxy]

The OC Masterpost (2.0)

A while ago, someone asked who were my ocs, so I made a big post introducing them. Since then, the post became outdated so i decided to make a new one. They are separated by wip.

main wips

1. Ein

2. Meine

3. Totsuka e Jandir (updated with Jandir's new name!)

secondary wips

4. Trisaster

5. Snow White

6. Little Red Riding Hood Cyberpunk

7. The War Of The Human Throne (now with picrews!)

8. Unchosen One

9. Across Time and Odds

10. 9 Gates of Hell

11. The Witch's Paladin

12. Rumplestiltskin's Child

coming out eventually

13. Clou & Venera

14. Elysium

15. Gate

16. Rosered

wipless ocs (they need a whole other post)

Petrichor - (he/him/it) Witch guy in witch uni. He is a stoic and playful dumbass who thinks he's funny (x <- link to his design sheet)

Jake Valentine - (he/him) You will never hear about him from me but here he is

Gesse Valerie - (they/them) Jake's fuckbuddy

Michael Mia - (he/they/any) Ask me about him ask me about him

Yohann - (he/him) He's just a little guy, really

links:

OC Gallery [to be made] - Old OC Masterpost - WIP Intro [to be made] - My Silly Selfsonas Intro [to be made] - OC Trivia Bingo (original ask game) [to be made]

Feel free to ask me about any of them! ^^ I love talking about my ocs, and I also have a bunch of ask games saved you can pick an ask from.

[phlurrii]

It’s finally time to introduce the secondary project I’ve been working on >;Dc

I’ve had this queued for sometime in June, did not check when, so hello on [random date in june] ;D

I’m also here to explain how I’ll be posting this stuff going forward! Everything will be posted here, on my main account before being reblogged over to Soul’s Anchor a side bog with the place holder title. Unless it deals with more adult/suggestive content or heavier topics, of which will be exclusively posted to Soul’s Anchor side blog. As I don’t want certain themes alongside AM! I’ll also be referring to this series as Anchor for short! I will encourage any and all Questions, Mentions, and Thoughts to be directed there for those interested and those who are not, dw! You’ll only see the initial posts here, no asks or follows up, but this is still my art account and I shall enjoy it as I please ;3

Brief Synopsis about the Story:

A queer love story following a cursed pirate and a cult refugee implanted with a god’s eye as they combat the reality of living in a world which was created solely to feed the gods that govern it. All whilst a sapphic couple attempt to help guide the pair along a path to to a better future, one that’s validity comes into question. A dark fantasy story that aims to represent the disabled community, the LGBTQIA+, and SA survivors written by fellow members of these communities.

Also brief disclaimer, I, Phlurrii, am simply an ally to the disabled community, my partner in crime writing alongside me, ArtJunco on Instagram, is our resident community member ;]

Anyways onto the meat of this!

Below is a collection of some, emphasis on some, of the concept art and processes I went through to develop and create one of the two main characters, Lumae.

Here are some of the earliest ideas, the basic thoughts I had in my brain when developing this goober after a 3 hours pacing in my kitchen at 1 am when that inspiration struck. His hair was the HARDEST bit for me to figure out. Which sucked as usually the hair is one of the first things I figure out because of how much I love it, so it was Agony while brainstorming that part.

I also briefly considered a goatee, however it was so cruelly shot down by my dear friend. So in stead we compromised that he may get one later down the line story wise… and see how we feel then. However, upon finally figuring out his hair I was bloody elated, still has some tweaks now and then, but the base is there.

As for this next concept, this was actually the FIRST thing created for Lumae and what started everything else about his character/design! His eyes! They are still my favourite but about him and something I adore whole heartedly! They are the core of his character ;3c

These next few are early refs and mock ups of his full design, testing our colours, experimenting with shading, getting used to drawing humans again, and general concepts I had for him as a character! Also a sneak peak at Ayric, our second main goober for this story! Who was lovingly designed and created by ArtJunco!

And finally his most recent WIP ref! The only thing currently bothering me about his design is the colour for his boot covers, I have no idea what to do with them so I’d you have suggestion or ideas, sincerely, feel free to shoot an ask to the Anchor blog! I’d genuinely love outside opinions!

As for the main curiosity of why I’m doing this, for those that missed the last post, I’ll give a brief explanation below ;3

To help with burnout so I can hop between fixations, help to avoid losing interest in AM in the future!

Keep up practicing humans and critters alike.

To take a break from story telling to do story building! Give the telling part of my brain a break, while still making cool stuff ;]

To have a more interactive blog with ya’ll! One where I’ll likely be asking advice and discussing a lot more hypotheticals, doodling asks, and general audience interaction given I am not bound by any updates! Purely just “ooo… shiny-“ and anyone is welcome to join me ;D

Last thing I request is to please read Anchor’s blog bio/description before you follow, as this story will deal with subjects not suited for all audiences posted/discussed exclusively on that blog.

Anywho, that’s all for now folks, hope you enjoyed this brief intermission to kickoff the second project being public!

[froody]

what’s in my gay ass murse as a severely anxious and chronically ill person who rarely leaves the house (wip):

notes:

the pickle mints container actually has more drugs in it (my anti-anxiety medication, prescription grade antidiarrheals, Zofran, ADHD medication) I heard cops can bust you for intent to distribute for having prescription medication in a secondary container but I am not carrying around a full 60 pill bottle of anti-shit-myself meds and hopefully the concept of pickle mints will disgust them so much they don’t look further

the switchblade on the third slide in my hygiene supplies is a comb, the one on the fourth slide is a real knife (legal :))

the whale contains roughly two pounds of loose change, the hello kitty is a compact mirror with oil blotting sheets, I use the Evian spray to ground myself and cool off when I’m nauseous or having a panic attack

not pictured but generally in the bag:

wallet & keys

glasses cleaning wipes

33 ounce bottle of water (it’s the south, I’ll die if I don’t take it with me)

only working lighter I own

20 piece first aid kit

mini bug spray (it is the south)

granola bar. just in case.

what else do I need?

[buckets-and-trees]

Field Guide to Forestry

We just hit another follower milestone, so since there are way too many of you around for me to put this off any longer, how about I officially let everyone know who I am and what you'll find around here...

CHIEF FORESTER: ASPEN Elder Millennial/upper 30s, she/her

THINGS ASPEN KNOWS WAY TOO MUCH ABOUT Trader Joe's, Disney Parks, the Great British Bake Off, CBS Survivor, Houseplants

IN THIS FIELD GUIDE YOU WILL FIND:

↠ Maps & Masterlists: my writing ↠ Forest Rules & Regulations: my guidelines and boundaries ↠ Visitors to the Forest: my approach to asks, requests, and tagging ↠ Upcoming Expeditions: projects I'm working on ↠ Tree Classification: my current tags ↠ Tales of the Teller: more about me and my writing

↠ THE FOREST OF FICS IN UPSTATE NEW YORK The MCU realm of my writing

↠ I do not interact with minors. It's not safe for anyone under 18 in these woods, and I'm honestly more comfortable knowing folks are over 21 because of the nature of things around here.

↠ I do not consent to having my works translated or posted to other platforms. If I wanted to, I would.

↠ I will block at my own discretion. This is my forest, and I set the boundaries. Underage? Blocked. Pornbot pigeon? Blocked. Bigotted? Blocked. Rude? Blocked. Just be a reasonable human over the age of 18, and you'll be free to roam the woods.

↠ ASKS Always open. I adore asks! Send thoughts, thots, questions, gifs, pics... Asks are NEVER a bother and you can ask about anything - questions about my existing works, stuff I'm working on, fandom things, my life... I'll answer within reason (no spoilers, I'm semi-open about my life but do keep some things private, etc). FULL DISCLOSURE: I'm not always prompt with answering them. Some have inspired fic or drabble ideas, and sometimes that writing goes fast, sometimes it goes slow, and there are a few that are sitting in my box that are "future" parts of current WIPs. But the hope is to always get to everything eventually.

↠ REQUESTS The only thing I'm actively entertaining requests for is my Cedar Trees Royal AU collection - but even these will be fulfilled subjectively and only as I have time and muse cooperation. Periodically I may host a request fest (as I did for my 300 follower celebration or for other occasions in the future).

↠ TAGLIST At this point in the growing season, I'm not maintaining an official taglist. In the future I will probably set up a secondary/library blog as many other authors have done where you can follow and turn on the notifications. There are only so many hours in the day, explorers.

↠ HOT BUCKY SUMMER 2024: thirteen weeks of prompts ↠ BUILD-A-BUCKY BINGO: twelve months of prompts ↠ THE GREAT BUCKY BAKE OFF: a Bucky x Reader episodic story with a Great British Bake Off format (coming fall 2024) ↠ ASPEN'S HOLIDAY EXTRAVAGANZA 2024: eight days of fics followed by one day of many, many fics (coming December 2024)

↠ FOREST NAVIGATION: field guide, masterlists, story collections ↠ AN ASPEN THING: when I post something more to do with me than anything fandom ↠ ASPEN MILESTONES: ONLY YOU CAN CREATE THESE FOREST FIRES ↠ ASKpen: responses to things from my ask box ↠ ASPEN IS WRITING: any commentary, sneak peaks, progress posts ↠ ASPEN WROTE SOMETHING: new writing post (fic, drabble, chapter) ↠ WRITER COMMENTARY: commentary either as a response to an ask or in a reblog ↠ OMG REBLOGGED THANK YOU: responding to or thanking people for reblogging my fics ↠ FIC READING: my reblogs of other people's fics ↠ MY MOOTS: flailing about or responding to one of my mutual friends

↠ HISTORY OF ASPEN I grew up in a family that was steeped in all things stories: grandparents, aunts and uncles always telling stories at family gatherings; parents read to me before bed; watching too many movies and cartoons; staying up way past my bedtime trying to sneakily keep the light on to read and read and read; playing elaborate imagination games after school with my best friends (house, princesses, orphans, dance coaches, etc). I wrote my first story in my eighth grade English class where one day in the computer lab we were assigned to write a mystery that was at least one page. I loved it. My teacher said it was good...

That summer our family moved - mere days before I started my freshman year of high school - so that fall before I made friend friends, I read a lot and I started writing. I was desperate for the next Harry Potter book to come out, so I started writing my own... the next year I learned about fan fiction on the internet and that it was a thing. I was drawn into Lord of the Rings fanfic, then I wrote a Pirates of the Caribbean fanfic, and then I went back to Harry Potter and actively wrote in that fandom for around six years.

In college I majored in English with an emphasis in Creative Writing because while I was writing fan fiction, I was also occasionally dabbling with original fiction... the dream was to be a famous writer.

↠ WHY BUCKETS-AND-TREES Buckets because I thought I'd be writing almost exclusively Bucky and Trees because Aspen. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

↠ ASPEN NOW In summer of 2022 I aggressively reclaimed HAVING hobbies in an effort to re-establish Aspen having a life outside of work. I love my career and I've worked incredibly hard to establish myself in the professional world, but... I needed to be more than just my work again.

So, again I write.

Throughout 2023 I started venturing out and participated in A LOT of challenges, which was so much fun in pushing my creative boat out into new waters. In 2024 I plan to DO THE DAMN THING and write a novel. I've always intended to, but 2024 will be the year. ↠ MY WORK Primarily I'm writing MCU fan fiction - typically Bucky Barnes or Steve Rogers; I have written some pieces with Sam, Natasha, Matt Murdock, Namor, and Wanda; I have some ideas for Thor, Carol, and M'Baku that I may or may not get around to. I've written for a slew of Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans characters and that's mostly where my muse lives.

I write a range of fluff, smut, and dark. Nearly all of my work has mature elements whether that's stronger language, sexual situations, or mature themes. HEED THE WARNINGS FOR EACH WORK AND DO NOT READ IT IF IT'S SOMETHING YOU DON'T LIKE. If I miss tagging something properly in the content warnings, please send me a message or an anonymous ask and let me know.

Most of my stories feature a reader insert. Reader is typically female, but when the reader is gender neutral I will designate accordingly! Striving to write an inclusive reader as much as possible, but if I stumble, please send me a message or an anonymous ask and let me know how I can grow.

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Teen Audiences (CW: Description of attempted suicide) Words: 5.4K~ Summary: There’s more to this story, Lars can feel it brimming in his very bones. He can feel it squirming around in the tangled coils of his guts, a primal, virulent rot that threatens to consume him from the inside out. Something is off with Steven, something is distinctly wrong. And oh, does he hate being right. - When an unexpected visitor tumbles through the magic portal in his hair long after hours, breathless and bright pink, Lars must amass the courage to weather one of the most difficult conversations of his life.

Hey folks- this is a really heavy one, but it's a story I've been sitting on in my WIPs for a good four years and am very happy to finally set loose. A lot of personal experience has been poured into this particular fic, and I hope you enjoy.

Please take care and mind the content warning given above. If you're curious on what else this story entails, you can click through to see the AO3 tags as well. Love y'all!

__

Advocate

The Sun Incinerator’s bridge is unusually quiet tonight, with almost everyone spending the evening in their quarters. As such, the only sounds greeting Lars’ ears right now are the dull buzz of their FTL-drive and the gentle chimes of one of the ship’s secondary consoles in the back. (Padparadscha’s making some adjustments to the mainframe parameters, hoping to secure them more malleable control over each system’s energy output.) It makes for a rather meditative scene… focusing on these lulling, almost formulaic bits of white noise as he peers through the glass and watches entire stars and solar systems zip by as nothing but razor thin tendrils of light, the very fabric of space warping and folding around their ship in a myriad of hypnotizing colors. Content to simply be in this peaceful silence, he stretches back in his captain’s chair, allowing a wide smile to rejuvenate his countenance. There’s genuinely nothing more relaxing in all the universe than this.

Though, as he begins to muse upon today’s chaotic ventures of choice, it occurs to him that he hasn’t logged anything down for a good few cycles. And that really, really needs to change, he thinks. Keeping thorough audio records of their whereabouts and activities could prove useful if they get into any more legal scrapes with disgruntled Gems. Plus, it’s great for personal posterity— for when he and the fam want to kick back with some mixers and reminisce about old times.

He activates the mic embedded in the armrest of his seat with a single tap, and clears his throat.

“Logging… stardate one-three zero-five twenty eighteen,“ he begins, rhythmically tapping his fingers against the cool metal. “Or, uh… however that’s supposed to work,” he tags on with a bemused mumble, his nose wrinkling in personal annoyance as he realizes he might have completely jumbled the date format again. At this point, half of his logs are month first, then date, and the other half are date then month. Ugh, what a mess. Perhaps one day he’ll standardize the captain’s logging procedure, but that future is definitely not now. 

And knowing him, it’s probably not gonna be tomorrow, either.

He’s unable to help his exhausted yawn as he kicks back and unwinds, throwing his legs over the side of the armrest as he pushes ahead with his recounting of the last few hours.

“Today’s travels once again had us come face-to-face with our favorite frenemy Emerald, who claimed that her latest star cruiser had the booster technology to easily outperform all other Era 3 ships and challenged us to a race across the Stellaris Astroid Field in sector 9. We won, of course,” he says with a smug lilt to his voice. “The Rutiles’ savvy piloting saw to that, as well as Fluorite’s last-minute engine modifications. I think we hit like… a record cruising speed?” He presses his lips into a thin line and turns his head towards his friend working at the rear of the main deck. “Hey Pady? D’ya happen to remember what our top velocity came to during the final stretch of that race?”

She pauses in her self-appointed duty and hums in careful thought, sorting back through her eidetic knowledge of the recent past like it’s nothing but child’s play. “I believe… 181 klicks per second, nearing the speed of light.”

“And that was like… a record, yeah?” he asks, a sudden hair-raising twinge of… well, something settling deep at the pit of his chest. He ignores it for now. Such phantom pangs aren’t uncommon these days. He’s not exactly sure what causes it yet, and chalks it up to more ‘pink zombie’ weirdness.

“For our craft, yes,” she nods. “For all Gemkind, no. I was curious, as well. As far as I’ve read from Homeworld’s databases, the current non-FTL cruising record is 186.1 klicks per second.” 

Lars can’t help the scoffing chuckle that bubbles within his throat. “Ugh. Good grief, that’s basically light speed as it is. Like, leave some room for competition for the rest of us, yeah?”

Padparadscha gives a faint snicker of agreement as she turns her focus back to the ship’s mainframe interface. Right, right… she’s got work to get done. Which really reminds him, he needs to get back to his point too, or else this log’s gonna be stuffed with nothing but meaningless chit-chatter and asides. He sighs, leaning his cheek against the seat’s edge again.

“But in any case,” he continues into the mic, “our latest victory over Emerald seems to ha—”

With zero warning whatsoever that hollow pang at his core intensifies, its thrall pulsing louder and louder until it’s a thunderous cascade of static rippling through his very veins. He hisses in alarm, jamming his hands over his ears out of pure bodily instinct. This doesn’t help, of course— as this cacophonous feeling (not a sound, not some external input he can mute or modulate, but a feeling—) seems to be emanating from within, from a place all but intangible to the physical realm, from— 

He spies that oh-so-familiar glow emanating from the fringe of his hair just a split second before his surprise visitor tumbles through and throws off his center of balance, unceremoniously toppling both of them to the floor in a ridiculous tangle of limbs. 

Lars’ exhales become laborious as he extracts himself from under the teen and clambers back up to his knees, heart pounding with more fervent intensity than it has since he up and died a few years back.

And right on cue, about fifteen seconds too late:

“Captain Lars, Steven is about to cross through the portal in your head!”

“Yeah, I noticed, thanks,” he snaps in the shock of it all, feeling guilty for this snide remark the second it passes through his lips. (Because Padparadscha can’t help her compulsive ‘predictions.’ He knows this. Everyone knows this. He’ll have to find time to pull her aside and apologize.)

But not now.

Not yet.

Because the alarm bells rung by Pady’s next comment are enough to slap him right out of his brooding contemplation and back to the troubling here-and-now.

“I also predict that Steven won’t be in a very sound state of mind when he arrives,” she says, a noticeable tension building in her tone.

His eyes blow wide as he shifts his full attention to his friend, clad in a pair of sweatpants and a thin sleep shirt.

Steven is… oh, geeze. It seems Steven can’t even manage coherent speech right now. His cheeks are blotchy and raw with recent tears. He’s doubled over on the floor with one hand clutching at his center as he heaves for breath, glowing bright ass pink and looking halfway to hyperventilating. One thing’s for sure: it’s really, really hard to watch. His own chest growing insufferably tight in sympathy, Lars leaps to action, unwilling to let the poor guy wallow in the thickets of whatever the hell this breakdown is about any longer than he has to.

“H-hey…” he begins, edging towards him with the same slow deliberateness he always has to use with the rescue dog his parents recently adopted. And like, yeah— a part of him feels really rude for comparing his own friend to a skittish, fretful animal— but it’s a comparison that seems all the more apt the longer he drinks in the realities of this situation.

Because just like ol’ Maru, Steven is jumpy, horrifically on-edge, and ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. 

Lars frowns, considering what few options he has.

Realizing his friend’s not likely to calm down very well so out in the open like this, he turns towards his fellow Off-Color. 

“Pady, I’m taking him to my quarters. Can you let the others know, and uh… tell them not to disturb us for a while?”

“Yes, right away,” she chimes, hopping off her seat.

“Thank you,” he breathes, expression softening. “I mean it. And sorry about— well, I’ll talk with you later, all right?”

Her mouth falling into a perfectly neutral line (even if she’s incapable of reading the future, he’s sure she’s intensely aware of what he wishes to speak to her about from mere context clues alone), the Gem serves him a solid nod of acceptance and spins on her heels, striding down the hall with a level of confidence he envies. The bridge’s door slides shut after her, leaving him and his glowing, pink hued guest entirely alone.

Alone, and incredibly, incredibly vulnerable, like a live wire flailing about atop a damaged Earth power line.

(The last thing anyone on this ship needs is him having one of his infamous explosive episodes here and compromising the bridge’s airlock system. Which is why his quarters— below deck and fully enclosed— is a far more ideal locale for them right now.)

“O-okay, Steven,” he says, holding out his arm in aid as the teen struggles to clamber back to his feet. “Let’s go somewhere private to cool down, yeah?”

~~

A few minutes later, Lars has Steven situated on the one plush sofa he keeps in his quarters. Since he no longer possess any biological need for sleep and thus doesn’t keep a bed, his room on the ship is pretty sparse— just a desk for journaling or gaming and some shelves with a number of sentimental knick-knacks he brought with him from Earth— but he did find it important to keep a couch. Even if he doesn’t need to sleep, curling up for a quick hour of shut-eye still feels quite rejuvenating sometimes. Plus, it’s handy to have whenever he hosts visitors. Like now. 

Lars sits himself down right next to the distressed teen. He’s still flushed bright pink, but has regained a fair bit of emotional stability compared to how he was right after tumbling out of the magic space portal in his hair. It might take a while until the glow fades away entirely, but it’s progress, at least. 

He sighs, rapping his fingertips against his jeans as he gives his friend some time in silence to cool down. The last thing the guy needs right now is for him to wave half a dozen questions in his face. He’ll talk when he’s ready. Or, hell, maybe not at all. That’s okay, too. Maybe he just wanted a place to have a quick little freak-out away from his family or girlfriend. Who’s he to judge? Sometimes a man’s just gotta be alone for a while. 

Of course, he muses, if Steven really wanted to be alone, then he wouldn’t have crossed through Lion’s mane over to him, now would he? So this visit can’t only be due to a desire for solitude. Steven sought out him— specifically him— for a reason.

That churning, hollow pang at his core radiates even stronger, pulsing at the same interval as the dull tick of the clock he has hanging up on his wall, the one he keeps set to Earth EST as an everlasting reminder of his humble human roots and all the people who care about him back home.

Finally— some ten or so minutes later— the seventeen-year-old stops glowing, that unnatural, otherworldly pallor fading into obscurity. The kid (sorry, but Steven will always be a ‘kid’ to him at this point, don’t matter his age) deflates in exhaustion, cupping his face in his hands.

Now a little more confident that his expressions of concern won’t rile him up to destructive levels of stress, Lars makes a gentle inquiry as to what brought him here. 

“‘Course, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” he tacks on quickly when he sees Steven’s expression widen with an almost grief-stricken apprehension, “but since I’m here an’ all, I figured…”

His guest sucks in a deep, shaky bout of air.

“N-no, I wanna talk,” he says, voice painfully hoarse. “I came here to talk, but I— it’s just so, so much, I-I’m—”

Lars’ eyes soften. “Dude, it’s okay. Take your time.”

And take his time he does. Another minute or so passes whilst Steven continues to reel himself in on the emotional side of things, breathing slow and heavy as he levels a dead-eyed stare at the blank section of wall flanking the doorway and his desk.

“Connie and I had a fight,” he begins eventually, his tone streaked with embarrassment. “Over the phone.”

Lars’ brow shoots up. Huh. All right. This is absolutely not the opener he expected.

“Really? You two fight? About what?”

“It doesn’t even matter anymore. It was nothing,” Steven mutters, clenching and unclenching his fists against the soft fabric of his pajama pants in a markedly uneven rhythm. “Just me being an idiot, as per usual. I’m sure we’ll make up over it tomorrow. But the problem is that we hung up mad. And when I’m mad about something, it just… makes me mad at myself. A-and then it’s like—” anxious, clawing hands migrate to his head, gripping at his hair— “w-when I’m mad at myself I just spiral? And it’s so, so scary how fast that can happen.”

Ever so slight, his lip presses into a tense frown as he listens. He doesn’t interject, not yet. Steven’s not finished with his disclosure— there’s more to this story, he can feel it brimming in his very bones. He can feel it squirming around in the tangled coils of his guts, a primal, virulent rot that threatens to consume him from the inside out. Something is off with him, something is distinctly wrong.

And oh, does he hate being right.

“I just… couldn’t stop thinking about it,” Steven admits.

The aching hollowness etched into the contours of his friend’s face intensifies, if that’s even possible.

Lars swallows.

“It?”

“—about killing myself,” he rasps, “and finally being done with all this.”

…

So, he’s not gonna lie.

While— much like himself— Steven’s never been the sort of person to prefer wearing his most turbulent emotions on his sleeve, he’s long suspected something like this was going on with him.

He suspected (because he’s been right there in those trenches himself), but he never said anything. 

He never mentioned these worries to any of his guardians.

And he never asked.

‘Cause like, how could he, right?? What a horrible, triggering inquiry that would be. ‘Hey Steven, hah, so random question— you don’t happen to casually fantasize about your own death or anything sometimes, do you?’ Fucking hell, what an asshole he’d make. What a disgusting, disgusting breech of boundaries. He always hated it when his parents violated his trust by butting into his own personal business unprompted, so how could he ever turn right around and do that to Steven? To one of his most cherished friends in the whole galaxy? To the guy who— despite years and years of putting up with all his toxic bullshit and daring to see the good in him anyways— literally brought him back to life?

Thus, with him never volunteering any information himself, all that was left for Lars to do was watch. 

To watch, and to listen where he can.

But still.

He’s not gonna lie.

Even if he always kinda suspected, even if so many of their interactions this past year only acted as fuel for all his constant, silent worries, hearing the kid actually say those words hurts like a bitch.

…

“Steven…” he utters with widened eyes, extending his hand.

To no avail, though.

“And that’s stupid, right??” the teen blurts out with a broad sweep of his arms, either ignoring or plain not noticing his offer of comfort as he rants onwards, his demeanor growing more and more unstable with each and every syllable. “That’s just… stupid! Normal people don’t think like that! Normal people don’t make mistakes and instantly leap to the worst possible punishment and spin that little thought around, and around, and around in your head until you’ve considered a thousand different scenarios that all end the same way.”

He pauses for breath, his chest heaving in and out— probably amidst the exertion of being so damn honest for once. Lars doesn’t even make a sound within this brief span of quiet. A part of him is a little terrified at what else might spill out of his friend’s mouth now that the cork of his anxieties has thoroughly been popped off, but he’s even more terrified at the thought of derailing him, of unintentionally stopping these truths from ever being spoken.

“And it’d be so easy, too,” Steven says, his once manic tone dropping a little lower, into something that’s worryingly more akin to numb acceptance. “I already know exactly how I’d do it! All I’d have to do is smash my gem so I don’t heal, and slit my wrists, and let myself just—” his voice cracks— “drift away, b-but—”

Lars’ brow hardens with a sudden rush of understanding as the trajectory of the teen’s sentence trails on off. “But something’s… holding you back?”

He nods, swallowing so hard that he can see the resultant lump move along the center line of his throat.

“The problem is,” he says, voice raw and vulnerable, “I’ve already seen how my family would respond to that. To… to me trying to kill myself. When I turned into that monster, I— I don’t actually remember much about it, but what I do remember is that the last thought I had before I changed was eerily similar to what I’m feeling now.”

Momentary lull. He’s rotating a thought in his head with the same intensity of a set of steam engine gears grinding against each other, that much is obvious.

“I think… for me,” he continues with marked hesitation, “corruption was a form of suicide. Which means—” he grinds his fingers into the soft fabric of his pajama bottoms as if seeking out an anchor, any anchor at all— “I already know what that would do to them. And I hate that I do, b-because… ‘cause I’m just so tired. Of all of this. I just want everything to stop. I want to stop.” 

Lars can’t help but wince as he listens to the developing theme of this admission, to how each and every new word his friend weaves into existence falls into such dissonant harmony with the gloomy, directionless version of himself he’s worked so hard to let rest in the past. Hell, he might as well be looking straight into some weird, warped mirror of his own teenage years. His lungs seize tight upon this revelation. Instinctively, he extends his hand towards the guy’s shoulder, sobered by the understanding that he’s possibly the sole person in this entire quadrant who’s capable of conveying even an ounce of sympathy or comfort for what he’s battling through right now.

“Hey, man. It’s okay. It’s over, now, you’re here with me. Those are just thoughts, y’know?”

Steven shakes his head, the motion swift and drenched with the dread of all his unaddressed self-loathing.

“But they’re not, though…”

“Wait, what are you even—?”

“Because… this time I almost carried through with it.”

His expression crumples upon the advent of this spoken revelation.

Fuck, he thinks, wishing with every last brittle nerve in his body that this conversation didn’t just swerve in the exact godawful direction he always feared it might. What the actual fuck.

He is so not equipped for this. 

With literally nothing else in his arsenal but the drive to bite his lip and listen, Lars motions for him to continue.

Sniffling, the teen backs his story up to provide what little context he feels comfortable with sharing. 

“After Connie and I’s fight… well, my dreams were really, really bad. So I woke up. Alone. And I started spiraling real bad again, an’… and then before I could even process what was happening, I—”

Sweet stars, is the poor guy trembling as he struggles to push this admission out. With a brief waver of hesitation (‘cause in normal circumstances, he’s not huge on all this touchy-feely stuff), he reaches over, angling to rest one of his hands over Steven’s.

“I had the knife in my hand,” he says. “And a pestle from the kitchen, to smash my gem. B-but I just… I just couldn’t do it! I’m just a coward, Lars! A stupid fucking coward who can’t even—”

He doesn’t utter a single syllable. 

He doesn’t even think. (How could he, in such fraught circumstances?) 

Limbs trembling in an outright terrifying cascade of adrenaline he hasn’t experienced since the day he finally found something worth existing for, Lars surges forward to wrap him into what’s gotta be the tightest, most sincere hug he’s given in his whole twenty-one years of life.

And thankfully, such an impulsive interjection is all it takes.

The walls his friend’s erected around himself this past season topples like wayward dominos. They smash against the ground, crumbling into vulnerable, vulnerable fragments. 

Steven sobs into his shoulder with a raw, shattered fervency that stretches leagues beyond any outpour of emotion he’s ever witnessed from another living person. It’s messy. It’s visceral. And in the precise context of this intensely specific turn of events, it’s a damn cathartic relief… because when it comes to training your brain out of a deep-rooted death wish, feeling anything— literally anything at all— is step number fucking one.

“I wanted to die so badly,” the teen warbles, his ugly mixture of snot and tears staining his shirt all the while. “B-but… I’m just such a worthless, pathetic failure that I can’t even do that right!”

He can’t help but cringe at this admission, but resolves to remain silent, not wanting a gentle pushback to such brutal self-loathing to spook Steven away from showing any shred of vulnerability whatsoever. He’s been there plenty of times himself. After all, when a person who’s caught in such a void of hopelessness and despair makes a last ditch appeal for help, they’re usually not looking to be told ‘everything will get better in time, you’ll see’ or ‘don’t be so hard on yourself, you’re not a worthless failure at all,’ or whatever other empty attempt at reassurance someone who doesn’t have such intimate experience with depression and suicidal ideation as he does might come up with. In many cases, such people are simply vying for their bleakest, most private feelings to actually be heard for once in their lives. 

The moment’s sanctity unhindered, the boy continues to cry against his shoulder for a good long stretch of time. Lars barely even breathes as he sits perched at the very edge of that couch, consigned to nothing but a statue as he holds him within what’s gotta be a record for the galaxy’s most awkward and stiff embrace ever shared.

A miniature eternity passes within this space before those sobs finally begin to lighten up.

“‘M sorry,” Steven mumbles through a face full of snot, pulling away from his offered comfort as a flicker of shame wrests control of his features. 

Lars shakes his head in a vehement refusal of the habitual guilt spiral he’s sure the guy’s a split second from slipping right into. “Dude, don’t be. Stars, I— I’m just glad you came over to me, okay?”

Then, swallowing… and doing his upmost best to consider the most respectful way to broach such a sensitive topic, he continues:

“I… I don’t mean to pry, but… are you… taking anything for this?”

Steven’s glassy expression scrunches into a configuration that screams nothing but blank confusion. “What?”

“Like… medication, or—?”

A bright understanding dawns within his gaze like the glow from a passing star system, before immediately collapsing inwards into a bitter, shadowed singularity. 

“No… no,” he protests, gesticulating all the while, “I keep telling everyone— my therapist, my dad, the Gems— I don’t wanna take any medicine! I’m not sick, I’m not, I don’t need drugs in my brain, I just— I just need to stop acting like this, just need to do better, to be better, I-I need—”

“Steven, no offense, but it’s called mental illness for a reason,” Lars says in the most deadpan tone he can muster, crossing his arms as he leans back upon the plush of the couch cushion. “Your brain is ill. That’s literally what this is. If you had the flu, you’d be taking flu medicine to help yourself get over it, right?”

“I’ve never had the flu,” he says in miserable contradiction.

“Yeah, well— come on, man, just work with me here,” he half-snaps, throwing a hand up for emphasis. “You agree that someone who is ill deserves medicine to feel better, right?”

The teen merely shrugs, his features growing cold and sullen. And good golly does he super want to smack all this noncommittal, self-sabotaging bullshit out of his stupid fucking system right this instant— because it reminds him so damn much of himself, and he hates that it does— but… aughhh. He’s gotta be more mature than that, doesn’t he?

As the older of the pair, he’s gotta be the role model here. 

“Then, don’t you think you might benefit from the same thing?” he presses.

Steven responds in the negative, swiveling his head from side to side. “I don’t know how it’d interact with… well—” 

He flashes a sharp gesture towards himself. More specifically, towards his very center, where his gem sits. Lars has no need to live inside his thoughts to pick up on the tricky little issue he’s hinting at here… he’s worried about how human medications would interact with the complexities of part-Gem physiology. And to be fair, it’s a reasonable concern to have.

But then again…

“That’s how it is with humans, too,” he shrugs. “It takes some people a lot of trial and error to find a drug and dosage that works for them. For once, you wouldn’t be any more an unusual case than anyone else. Do what you want, but—” deep inhale— “if it were me, I’d really consider talking with a psychiatrist about this.”

The teen issues a dull huff through his nose. It’s the sort of response that makes it clear he reluctantly agrees with Lars’ logic, but should he actually follow his advice— and stars, he hopes he does— won’t be doing so with a willing heart. That’s fine, though. Sometimes, being the most supportive friend one can be means that the other party won’t always like what you have to say. He knows this from intense personal experience… from being the person on the other side of this kind of conflict. Sadie was never afraid of serving him the tough love and cutting perspective he needed when he opened up to her about his own experience with suicidal ideation, and he’s forever grateful for that. Thus, the least he can do now is try to be that kind of advocate for Steven, too.

Which brings him to the next vital topic rattling within his brain.

“Oh, and one other thing,” Lars says, folding his hands in his lap and looking him directly in the eye. “This is important, so please be honest with me. Have you told anyone else you’ve been struggling with these kinds of thoughts?”

“Not really,” he mumbles, his own gaze slipping aside amidst the turbulent throes of his clear shame. “I just… I wanted to deal with this myself. I don’t want them to be disappointed. They all think I’m doing so well these days, but then—”

“Steven.”

There’s no acknowledgement of his call, at first. He’s just too damn tangled within his own thoughts— expression glazed over and restless fingertips drumming in an endless thrall against his thigh.

“Steven, come on. Look at me,” he implores, interrupting his manic fidgeting with the reassuring solidity of a hand over his. “Please. Promise me, when you go back through my head, you’ll call someone else— anyone else— and tell them. Tell them, and then have them contact me. I want to hear you promise.”

“Lars…”

“Promise me,” he repeats with an even stronger fervency, his normally sluggish heartbeat surging halfway to its old full-strength status quo. “Listen, I don’t want to invade your privacy any more than you want me to, but if you don’t do this by the end of tomorrow… if that very clock—” he jabs a finger towards the so-mentioned object hanging upon his wall— “hits midnight and I don’t hear anything from your family… then I’m calling your father and telling him myself.”

Steven’s expression twists with a sharp jolt of dismay, his mouth falling ajar. Lars cuts off any pending protests with a swift flash of his hand and continues undeterred.

“I’m not joking. I’m like, a billion light years in space, man. You need someone closer to home in your corner, too.”

Unable to ignore the hard hitting truth of this statement, his friend finally acquiesces to his request, his shoulders slumping inwards.   

“Fine,” he mumbles, folding his arms to his chest. “I promise I’ll tell Dad.”

“Thank you,” he breathes in sheer spine tingling relief. And by golly, does he uber mean it. 

Because holy shit, have the past fifteen or so minutes of conversation been an absolute stress-soaked ordeal. He doesn’t know if he’s ever felt so emotionally exhausted in his whole ass existence.

“In the morning, though,” Steven adds. “I—” the kid heaves a long, exhausted sigh— “I really don’t think either of us are prepared for that kind of conversation this late.”

“Absolutely fair enough.”

His friend sniffles a little, gaze averting once more. “Can I— can I stay here, for tonight? I really, really don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Of course,” he nods. In his mind, Steven’s request was never a matter up for debate. “Always. I’ll… I’ll go get some blankets.”

Hooking his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans, Lars pushes himself off the couch and slowly shuffles his way to the door. (The storage closet he keeps all his extra personal elements in is a short distance down the hall, past Rhody and Padparadscha’s shared room.) He keeps his expression as blank as he can muster… at least until he’s moved well out of both visual and auditory range. And then… once he’s absolutely positive that Steven can’t overhear… all that built-up worry and emotional strain simply overflows.

He’s not outright crying— not in the way that others might— but damn if he’s not real close to it.

Lars’ whole body shudders with a burst of delayed grief as he braces himself upon the closet door. He clamps a hand over his mouth, stifling the impact of the shaky exhale that spills from his lips otherwise unhindered. Just… fuck. What the fuck. All of this feels like a horrible nightmare. When the hell did things get so bad for him? Who let things get this bad? Is he at fault—? Like, geeze— he always knew something felt awry with the kid (and that’s half the issue, isn’t it? He’s not just a sweet little kid with simple lil’ problems anymore, and in many ways he never was), but should he have said something? Confronted him about it? Told his guardians about his concerns, privacy be damned? 

He grits his teeth as he muddles over all the infinite complexities of this problem.

Ugh.

What if, what if, what if.

It’s all useless conjecture.

The bottom line is, Steven doesn’t deserve any of this. Not then, not now, not ever. He shouldn’t have to be dealing with any of these horrid, horrid thoughts. Stars, if anything had happened to him— if he actually did follow through with his plan, then—

Lars drops his head against the door panel, doing everything within his power to will the thought to evaporate from his mind.

No.

No…

He doesn’t even want to consider that possibility. Steven’s like a brother to him at this point. It’s not gonna happen. Not now, not ever. Not on his watch.

He’s not sure how yet, but he’ll make damn sure of it.

…

Once he’s cooled himself down, Lars returns to his quarters with a couple of blankets in hand.

Upon passing through the doorframe, he’s met with a somewhat reassuring sight: Steven already sound asleep on his ratty old couch, curled up against the armrest and snoring softly. Heh. He sure doesn’t blame him for tuckering out so soon. Poor guy must’ve been exhausted after such a rigorous emotional outpouring. Moving with calm intent so as not to disturb him, he quickly lays the blankets across his slumbering form before retreating to the far wall to keep watch for the night. He stretches back against the metallic panel, inhaling as deep as he can muster to erase the quavering tension staining his countenance.

Standing vigil over a soul in need… just in case.

[butcherlarry]

Weekly Fic Rec 46

I'll be out of state/traveling for the next two weeks for the holidays, so this will be my last fic rec list of the year. Fear not! I'll start up again 1/7/2024. It will probably be a long one since I'll have more down time to read some fics (hooray!). I might also post a link or two to some favorite fics I read during my vacation, and maybe a photo or two as well.

how to confess your love, as written by clark kent by scarletazure - Superbat, complete. Clark writes a WikiHow about how to confess your love to your best friend, who just so happens to be Bruce.

Naps are overrated, anyway by ionia - Superbat, complete. Photographic evidence is taken of Superman and Batman taking a nap together. Shenanigan ensue.

to lick your heart and taste your health by redlightofkryptonite (redlightofdawn) - Superbat, wip. Omegaverse Superbat, but only Kryptonians have a secondary gender.

Gotham Nights, Metropolis Days by tiredd_writer - Superbat, wip. An identity porn fic where Batman and Superman work on a case together, but the don't know each other's secret identities :))))))))

all i need is you by twoheadedmoon - Superbat, complete. A lovely smutty fic with service top Clark and dominant bottom Bruce.

Patchwork Pod by Ktkat9 - Superbat, wip. More of the mer Bruce fic! More secrets are revealed about Connor's past. Much feelings are had.

Everything Will Be Just Fine by lonelynpc - Batfam, wip. More of Goth Dad Battinson. Clark sees goth dad in action at a gala.

let the light in by TheResurrectionist - Bruce Wayne & Oliver Queen, complete. Some bonding time between two of the only humans on the JL.

Manor-Dad lets me drive the Batmobile by lostletters (loosingletters) - Batfam, wip. Part of the Bruce Wayne: Billionaire, Father, Dating Batman series. When Dick found the Cave, instead of discovering that Bruce is Batman, he thought they were dating instead. Bruce never corrected him, hoping Dick would eventually figure it out. He did not and neither did any of the other children Bruce adopted. My favorite parts are when the kids ask Batman if they can do something, he says no, and then the kids say that Bruce said they could (and vice versa). Those little shits (affectionate).

(Love) Triangles Have Multiple Centers by frozenpotions - Superbat, wip. I am in love with this identity porn fic. In this update, there is a (kinda) gala involved, flirting, misunderstandings, understandings, more misunderstandings, Clark's giant dinner jacket, Lois, and a surprise :)

slow dancing in the dark by scarletazure - Superbat, wip. Another fic I am completely in love with. Bruce and Clark get amnesia, sleep together, get their memories back, and start not-dating, because taking about your feelings is for losers. I vibrate with excitement everytime I see an update for this fic in my inbox.

Enjoy!

[the-ellia-west]

Writeblr Intro

Heyo internet! I'm Ellia West, I go by Ellia or whatever dumb Nicknames you wanna call me!

I am a Biological Female, A Baptized, Devoted Christian, I have 2 hobbies, I have really Bad grammer, I swear like a sailor, I love to talk, I'm working on way too many WIPs, and I use wayyyyy too many exclamation marks!!

I Love Talking, Cake, Jesus, Gold, Red, Bronze, Warm Weather, Writing, Photography, All my mutuals, and Traumatizing my characters

I'm currently working on a main WIP and. Secondary WIP - This blog is dedicated to my main WIP, I have another blog @jakkon-and-rose-topic for my secondary one (It's stereotypical whump)

My main WIP is this:

Three outcasts, Chrin, Kasi, and Xhaazi, get thrown into a variety of Conflicts and learn dangerous things about themselves and others. But on their journey to unravel what's going on, they make powerful friends and even more powerful enemies. But when they join a rebellion against the hidden society hunting them, their world turns upside down. They must fight not only for their own survival but for the survival of nations amidst a world that will never trust them.

[naranjapetrificada]

I have really, really loved seeing everyone talking about their favorite fics they've written but I wasn't expecting to be tagged tbh because I've posted so few. Thanks so much @scribophile for tagging me so I can play too!

I only have 3 one-shots and a stagnating WIP to my name but I do have favorites, so.

Cornerstone means a lot to me because it was the first time I'd felt moved to write fiction (fan or original) in over a decade. I have years (and two post-secondary degrees worth) of baggage around writing in the way that only 90s "gifted kids" who were actually just neurodivergent can, and being able to write fiction again after so much time and angst has been such a joy.

My favorite of the one-shots though is probably Ways of Wanting, which was literally just inspired by Ed's beautiful, beautiful neck and written in a flurry of thoughts and feelings about the sublimation of queer desire. What I love about it is that if Cornerstone was the roots a seemingly-dead tree defiantly bursting through concrete, then Ways is like the first green shoots of new growth to sprout from the tree's branches. It was fun to write but more than anything else it felt necessary, because I needed to see myself stretching beyond my limits and doing something new.

(I also really love the Birth of Venus image that popped into my head at the last second, and if that had been the only thing to come from having written the whole thing it would still feel worth it.)

Last of course is my historical-ish fantasy-ish WIP, From the Firmament, which I am going to finish, because there's nothing I hate more than breaking promises I've made to myself. Getting the chance to write something this self-indulgent has been so rewarding, especially because of how much it's reminded me that writing can be fun.

Now obviously, drafting chapter 3 has taken significantly more time than anticipated. Part of the problem is that Izzy, in typical fashion, elbowed his way into having a POV section that has been as unpleasant to write as the man himself is to be around (although I have to admit that some of the discomfort is creative growing pains).

But beyond Izzy, there are things about the storytelling process itself at this point that are dredging up a lot of my writing baggage in a way that writing the first two chapters didn't. For a few reasons Ed's POV always takes me the longest, and he's got the lion's share of this chapter's narration. And I definitely spent too long deciding which historical blurb should start the chapter, which kept me floundering for too long trying to build the chapter's basic skeleton. I'm also having to work through poet-brain perfectionism with some of the prose.

But I'm determined to finally learn these and other craft lessons I've been putting off for decades though, just as I'm determined to see this story through to the end.

(also I got laid off in June and sometimes feel guilty if I'm not spending every waking moment on job sites, which is a mistake but it makes writing fic harder than it needs to be. I'm working on it.)

I feel like this game has been going around long enough that almost everyone I would tag has already been tagged, but last time I checked I didn't see a post from @veeagainsttheday nor @tresdem? Both are incredibly skilled (and maybe more importantly, dedicated) writers who have made me cry repeatedly in the best ways possible, so even if they don't want to make their own posts you should still go read their gentlebeard work immediately.

[vacantgodling]

CURRENT BETWIXT THUMB AND FOREFINGER (AKA 19TH CENTURY TWILIGHT ADAPTATION THAT CRASHED INTO GOTH LIT SOMEWHERE) RESEARCH AND PLANNING and generally my chaotic thought process lmao.

sponsored by: @sarahlizziewrites & @ink-flavored

tl;dr: all of this is still subject to change bc i'm still planning a lot of this stuff out. however, i want to post what i have so far bc how i plan things is kinda intriguing to me and i wanna talk about something but bc i'm not Writing Prose atm this is all i got.

transposed under the cut but i wanted to showcase what the actual doc looks like :p

WIP NAME ⟶ BETWIXT THUMB AND FOREFINGER

(the hell) betwit thumb and forefinger — the time between solstice and equinox

with the secondary title that almost implies that the story is taking place over a short time period between solstice and equinox — which is a 90 day period, so about 3 months?

idk if i have to keep that in the title, but perhaps the title is a reference to how short a time this is in the grand scheme of things, especially in the life of an immortal creature, but for biscella this is a lifetime. going through every stage of grief and sommemore shit. so i think i’ll call it betwixt thumb and forefinger (BTAF)

some kind of celestial name (twilight/new moon/eclipse/breaking dawn) ⟶ something in this realm to tie back to twilight’s inspo’s somehow but idk if i wanna give that bitch the luxury

dark adaptation — the eyes’s transition to night vision

equinox / solstice

retrograde 

betwixt retrograde and amnesia LMAO

betwixt equinox and solstice

i need to decide what year i want this story to take place in cuz that’s gonna hinge everything.

History of the Netherlands - Wikipedia

peninsular war was 1807-1814. sjaak did not see the end of this conflict as he was turned into a werewolf by a fellow soldier “gust” (why, idk yet).

joined the french army (netherlands and french were allies during this time the batavain-french alliance™) and fought in the battle of zaragoza (1808) ; was injured and near death when he was found by gust a gravewalker. there’s been a rumor going around during the battle that people have seen corpses up and walk away from the battle and their wounds and its because gust (and others) have been turning them into werewolves for some greater purpose. — sjaak becomes one of these when he leaves.

if i assume that for all intents and purposes sjaak is 18 when he finally leaves the netherlands and joins the spanish FRENCH army, then maybe he’s 20 when he’s turned into a werewolf. so… 20 during 1808.

born: 1788 in the netherlands — black mother who was a slave but then brought to the netherlands and subsequently freed. father was the master of the home she worked at.

biscella is younger than sjaak and i want her to be a naive 18 during 1808—perhaps this happens during 1808? but then we would have the war to contend with going on unless it was removed from the battlefield somewhat.

the “cullens” are located in castillo-nuevo in what is now navarre spain and have cleared it out to build a castle there. that lonely castle in the middle of the wilderness is where biscella lies. the crypt is hidden among the mountainous landscape, and even though biscella was there during the funeral, another aspect of everything is eduard appearing to her in dreams/visions/as an apparition keeps her from knowing his location fully by scrambling her mind.

i want sjaak to kill that baby

“you have the face of the woman i love. but the blood of the man i hate flows thorugh you” or something. kills the damn baby and makes biscella’s death worthless in some ways

“she would’ve wanted you to live. she would’ve wanted me to show you the ways of the world and the sun in the trees and the apples that hang low from branches. but i am a monster filled with utter darkness and hate. i will kill what she cherished, and hope that in your death, her memory will haunt me.” or something.

NAMING STRUGGLES ⟶ Spanish naming customs - Wikipedia / Category:Catalan-language surnames - Wikipedia / Names Categorized "Twilight characters" - Behind the Name

possible names for bella (romani, coming from germany into netherlands after being expelled from the country or whatever)

biscella 

mirella ⟶ variant of amaryllis (meaning to sparkle)

sibella ⟶ prophetess (variant of the name sybil)

tsarla ⟶ evening

gisela ⟶ hostage/pledge

biscella schwann

tsarla schwann

gisela schwann

sibella schwann

karl schwann + tsarla schwann >> biscella schwann >> 

surnames for eduard & the cullens™ ⟶ casavantes (the name taken from the patriarch of the family; comas is the 

CHARACTERS

biscella schwann de casavantes (bella) ⟶ follows the standards of the region + is not spanish so she just goes with the flow

karl schwann (charlie father, dead)

tsarla schwann (mother, dead)

sjaak de witte (dutch) (jacob)

luis jofre casavantes basurto (carlisle) ⟶ created via union but killed his parents so he could defect to a “vegetarian” lifestyle (aka hibernation). he forbids the usage of venom to create more of their coven, forbidding the femme vampires from autonomous reproduction essentially.

maritxell comas miranda (esme) ⟶ wife and half-sister of luis; created via union and assisted luis in killing their parents so that they could start their own coven. completely loyal to him and was defanged in an act of loyalty (aka; she can no longer make other vampires stronger as luis removed her fangs, this also keeps her from drinking blood AND solely dependent on him for protection)

i want maritxell to actually have a more prominent role than just like. a sad woe is me matriarch. i want her to be like those women who uphold the patriarchy by being misogynistic towards other women. women like her own daughters (rosita and azelie) need to know their place, and because biscella is romani, she views her as subhuman (and also just as a breeder for eduard’s seed).

i don’t want her to be like romilda in vdtrt who’s more battered wife syndrome. i think maritxell and luis are very very complicit in one another’s bullshit.

rosita casavantes i comas (rosalie) ⟶ first child of the union between luis and maritxell, defanged at birth, rosita desperately wishes to be with child (need to figure out why). she is intensely jealous of biscella despite knowing the woman will die, and torments her now that eduard has been buried in the crypt.

eduard casavantes i comas (edward) ⟶ uses ‘i’ instead of ‘y’ or ‘de’ because he’s specifically from catalina ; created via union of luis and maritxell, and despite being the middle child, is the strongest of the vampire children.

azelie picard (alice) ⟶ luis impregnated a french woman who azelie assumed the name of once she was born. she was the one who met biscella first and despite everything is protective of her. she did not approve of eduard impregnating her (lesbian undertones and may defect and help sjaak, we’ll see). does not want to be defanged.

silvano di luise (jasper) ⟶ youngest child of the coven and born of an italian woman, his surname means ‘son of luis’ (as he is). he is very conflicted on the matter of whether or not they should stay ‘vegetarian’ if they’re still going to kill human (women) anyway by impregnating them with their spawn and thinks that human men should receive the same treatment by being killed for food or made as spawns as well. its caused infighting amongst the coven.

the other question is if i should add other characters. bc i included all the twilight vampires that are Actually Interesting (sorry emmett you’re fucking boring to me) and i’m also only including the werewolves that are interesting to me… which is mostly ig sam, leah, and whats her name. 

WORLDBUILDING AND SHIT

HOW VAMPIRES WORK (biologically)

vampires are made only through human hosts; vampires with penises can impregnate women and the pregnancy will last for 2 years until the woman is fully drained of all her blood and innards, then perish, with the baby bursting out of the womb

vampires without can impregnate men or women via their venom and it will take the form of a parasite forming in their stomach. these vampires tend to be more deadly, though because of the times it is rare to have these kinds of non-producing ‘coven’ leaders. they will do so if their mate is killed, but usually they use their venom to strengthen the other vampires in their coven.

vampires that are created via the union of two vampires in coitus will have a normal “human like” pregnancy, and tend to be the most powerful of all) (ie: eduard)

unlike werewolves vampires cannot be “turned” they can only be born.

HOW WEREWOLVES WORK (turned)

werewolves are the natural enemies to vampires as they were specifically engineered hundreds of years ago to be on par with the nightwalkers’s (vampires) habits.

they cannot be born biologically; once you are turned a werewolf you are infertile.

werewolves are created via consumption of the compound moonstone, which, as its name suggests, is what people of this time assume to be rocks from the actual moon.

whether it is or isn’t is debatable. its not Really important. you eat it and you are now lycanthrope congrats

[marrowwife]

A WRITEBLR RE-INTRO

Welcome to my cozy little corner of writeblr!

You can call me Marrow or Ollie, I'm 23, I use all pronouns (mostly they/them), and I'm a middle child from a small town upbringing

I'm a queer fantasy writer who writes queer fantasy stories :)

Currently (and always) obsessed with the Crane Wives, The Goblin Market by Christina Rossetti and collecting strange knickknacks from secondhand stores

HOUSEKEEPING

This is not my main, if I send any asks I'll tag this blog so that people know who I am

Ask and tag game friendly! May take a while to respond but rest assured I am working on it and I always appreciate it!

Currently working on getting intros out for all of my wips, most of them are reworkings of my old wips :)

wips and taglists under the cut

WORKS IN PROGRESS

- PRIMARY WIPS

WIP: LOTUS EATERS na urban fantasy, dark academia witches, queer

The lives of three complicated women become intertwined when they all join a magical secret society at their university

@houndmouthed @moonscribbler @lockejhaven @aeipathys @cryptid-s-wips @seven-little-constellations @asralieswritingcorner @these-starrynights @dreamwolves @oblolongue @andromedatalksaboutstuff @thelittlestspider @serenanymph @athenswrites

WIP: RAVENOUS na fantasy, exploration of the chosen one trope, queer

What makes someone a saviour? The origin of their power or the way they use it?

@houndmouthed @tragicbackstoryenjoyer @philocalizt @waestlandbaby @andromedatalksaboutstuff @writingmoth @serenanymph @moondust-bard @ashfordlabs @carnocus @real-fragments7

WIP: UNRESTFUL small town fantasy, gothic academia, queer

Gothic boarding school fantasy where the ocean is evil and trying to eat you probably

@dreamwolves @inkingfireplace @kaiusvnoir @saltwaterbells @touchingmadness @andromedatalksaboutstuff @thelittlestspider @writingmoth @serenanymph @silhouettecrow @stesierra @ashfordlabs

- SECONDARY WIPS

WIP: THE GABRIEL RATCHET ya faerie fantasy, folkloric inspiration, queer

Faerie story where everyone has an agenda and there's also a quest

@tieflingtea @philocalizt @cactusmotif @houndmouthed @cream-and-tea @dreamwolves @inkingfireplace @touchingmadness @whimsy-of-the-stars @silhouettecrow @andromedatalksaboutstuff @writingmoth @serenanymph

WIP: SWORD & SERPENT na cozy(ish) fantasy, found family, queer

A knight, a mage, and a wayward heir take way longer to get back home than they should have because of the god damn plot

@tieflingtea

[smellyrottentrees]

Some more information:

You are welcome to interact with posts no matter how old they are! Unless, of course, it’s something time-sensitive like a poll.

Please ask questions! I need nothing more than an excuse to infodump. I may become vague if I feel a certain topic contains spoilers, but I will make it clear that is the case if it is so.

Don’t be afraid to say hi! I’d love to make writer friends, especially in the high fantasy and mythological genres. And if you also make art for your writing, all the better!

I don’t reblog many things unless I have my own input to add, but feel free to reblog my work, especially if you have a comment or addition to something I’ve said.

If you want to see art unrelated to my story, as well as process photos, check out my insta under the same name.

Please do not use my artwork as a profile picture or banner unless you have commissioned me specifically for that work!

My WIPs and Characters

Main: Ga’avan the Mighty

Character List: Am’asy, Kys’so, Yetova, Arroti, Khoram, Jalur, San’ary, Khet, Kassa, Varasy, Nasee

Secondary: The First Emperor

Character List: Kyall, Fastar, Akasyr, Sharisa, Lereya, Garat, Gerall

Short Stories

The Red King

OC Boundaries

Fanart: YES, with credit.

Shipping: Only canon, do NOT ship with your OCs.

Kinning: I would strongly prefer if you did NOT.

Fanfic/writing: I would prefer if you did NOT. Or, at the absolute least, TELL ME about it if you do it and keep it SFW!

Drawing your OCs with mine: I would prefer if you did NOT.

NSFW of my characters?: DEPENDS. You can only draw as NSFW as I draw—look through my feed for guidelines, or ASK. I am not opposed to TASTEFUL artistic nudity or violence.

Cosplaying: DEPENDS—with credit and permission, most likely I will say yes.

Headcanoning/theorizing: Go right ahead. TELL ME your headcanons, you might end up being right.

[dandelion-jester]

Writblr Intro:

Hello All!!!

I've been meaning to do a proper intro so better late then never!

Who Am I?

You can call me Dandelion. I'm 22 years old, I use they/them pronouns, I'm English and I am a queer, trans, neurodivergent fantasy writer. I've not had anything published yet but it's my aim.

I have a background in theatre and circus so performing arts tend to turn up in my work. I also love making maps and studying conlangs! I do a lot of art and reading as hobbies, but my favourite pass time is playing dnd!

What Do I Write?

I write mainly fantasy, but also scifi and historical fiction. I also dabble in poetry and I would like to learn how to write for games and screen at some point. For now though, it's all novel writing as far as the eye can see.

My favourite trope to write is found family (I blame all the dungeons and dragons I play). I also write a lot of queer characters and try to diversify my casts as much as possible. My work tends to be very character driven although I do love world building a lot, especially building different cultures and places. I'm best st dialogue and really struggle with building plots. I also have a deep love for history, specifically the 1700s and Anglo saxon - medieval Britain, so that's usually finds its way into my work as well.

You can find my work on Patreon here

What Do I Read?

Unsurprisingly, it's mostly fantasy. I used to read over 100 books a year, but university has made me hit a massive reading slump. So the main thing keeping me going right now is Robin Hobb. I also listen to a lot of audiobooks.

My WIPs:

Information on my current work is under the break!!

Feypocalypse

Feypocalypse is a queer, fantasy horror comic set in medieval England following the events of a Fey Apocalypse in the 1300s. It follows a group of knights trying to survive in a world that has been turned into a Fey hunting ground, whilst protecting the Changeling child they accidentally adopted. The current plan is eight issues, to be published on Patreon and then printed as a complete novel at the end! It will be written by myself and illustrated by my amazing co-creator @withlovefromthecrowss.

I recently finished playing in a Curse of Strahd campaign that lasted about 2 years and was one of the best dnd experiences of my life. So of course, I decided to write it up in novel form so that I and the other players could always return to it. Our paladin was an extremely detailed note taker so I've been borrowing their notes. It's currently the longest piece of writing I’ve ever done and I add to it every day. It's from the pov of my character, a human necromancer called Sepulcrave who has a pretty crazy character arc and it's my current main WIP, even though its a personal project.

The Legend of The Rat Bastards (vols. 1 & 2)

Now available to read on my patreon!

Eye of the Falcon King (working title)

A secondary-world medieval fantasy novel about identity, rebellion, and manipulation. In a world where some few people have the ability to shape-shift into birds, the king seeks out these people to be his personal servants, messengers and spies. Turik is a young boy able to turn into a falcon and becomes a member of the King's circle. But after a tragedy befalls his best friend it begins to become apparent that the king is not as benevolent as he seems and Turik must come to terms with the knowledge that his reality is a lie. This book is about breaking free from manipulative forces, the ways invisible disabilities are ignored and pushed aside, and mostly about how the monarchy is terrible. Also queer people because all my stories have queer characters.

Otherlings (working title)

It's 1875 and Eliza Farthing's twin brother Alexander has just reappeared in her life after seven years. Except he's not her twin, he's her changeling. And Eliza isn't always Eliza, sometimes he's Francis. The world's of the two twins - one fey, one queer - are about to become very intertwined against their wishes. The two have to fight against their family, the police, a morally corrupt scientist, inter-community distrust, and their own dislike for each other, or both of them will never regain the lives they so desperately need and desire. Also there's a circus. The book deals with identity, secrecy, hatred, and community. It's a book about found family, about accepting yourself and others, about not needing to be seen to exist and be worth something. Mostly it's about sticking together despite your differences.

So that's my current WIPs! I'll add more as I get them, but that's all for now! Thank you for taking an interest in my work and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to send me an ask :)

Tags I use

#legend of the rat bastards, #eye of the falcon king, #ask dandelion-jester #feypocalypse #otherlings novel

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 flowers from ash by hauntedotamatone

💙 flowers from ash

by hauntedotamatone (@hauntotamatone)

E, WIP, 27k, Wangxian

Part of WLW Wangxian Week 2022

Summary: “There is the matter of a certain individual.” “That Wei Ying from YunmengJiang.” A protracted Sunshot campaign spanning six years ends in a victory hardly worth the cost. With the former Five Great Sects whittled down to three, two of which have been devastated, the Jin Sect seeks to hang itself up in the place of the sun. The first step in their climb to power is to get the woman who killed Wen Ruohan from within his own palace well out of the way. Lan Zhan is not someone who schemes, but she cannot allow Wei Ying to meet such a fate. That she has loved her since they were fifteen is secondary. Kay's comments: This story is so incredibly soft in its grief. Like. The hurt/comfort of it. It never fails to hit. I am so weak for it. And WLW Wangxian too? Lar never misses. In which, everything in regards to the Sunshot Campaign went worse and in some ways better? Hard to say, but Wei Wuxian ended up a prisoner of the Jin Sect and Lan Wangji, who is the effective sect leader of the Lans, manages to scheme her to be handed over to the Lans instead. What follows is dealing with grief, healing and so much tender hurt/comfort. Excerpt: “Well she can’t simply be allowed to run amok!” The mask slips. The primary lust of his, that clawing greed for any power he does not possess, rears its ugly head. It’s a pity that he had not been so concerned with Wen Ruohan and his sons, their nearly infinite wealth and unrestrained power. It is not fear, as so many others will surrender to, she doesn’t believe that Jin Guangshan has ever been properly scared, and one person can do very little to move against him now. GusuLan teaches its disciples not to deceive. Thus, her words must be chosen carefully. She does not lie, not exactly. “I do not mean to leave her on her own.” This is true, she will not abandon her. “GusuLan is experienced in the liberation of resentful spirits and well equipped to contain them.” This is also true, though its relevance to the conversation actually taking place here is debatable. It is a necessary misdirection, but Wen Qing’s glare grows harsher and the timid looking young man behind her wavers between the verge of tears and the verge of violence. “Our healers would take responsibility for her care and supervision.” His brow twitches. There is no sound argument to make against GusuLan handling this, none that will not drag his true motives into the light However, she knows that he is only irritated, not cornered. Even if his motives were exposed, Lan Zhan does not think that there would be anything more than a token protest, if any objection at all. Never mind that Wei Ying had been well liked amongst their peers and that many of the young masters of their generation had admired her. How cheap their admiration had turned out to be in the end, for those that remain to sit here and say absolutely nothing.

pov lan wangji, rule 63, female lan wangji/female wei wuxian, canon divergence, post-sunshot campaign, captivity, hurt/comfort, grief/mourning, recovery, bathing/washing, past character death, sect leader lan wangji, sharing a bed, lan wangji/ wei wuxian get a happy ending, getting together, touch-starved wei wuxian, misogyny, genius wei wuxian

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[somethingclevermahogony]

Character Intro! Ninma

Hello y'all! I am currently working on making a post for Shela, the winner of the poll. However before I introduce you to a secondary character I thought it would make sense that you know both of the MCs. I previously introduced y'all to Narul, if you haven't seen that yet or if you are new to my WIP check out the pinned post on my blog or click here.

Send any questions you have about either of them!

Art is the work of @faeporcelain ! i hope to do a commission or two with just Ninma in the future.

Intro continues below!

Note: Everything listed below is the case at the start of the story, and are not necessarily the case for the entirety of the book

Ninma is the youngest daughter of Hutbari, King of the City State of Labisa

Ninma was born and has spent her entire life within Labisa

Ninma is five years old though she is unusually small for her age.

Her father is King Hutbari, her mother is Zibatha (Hutbari’s 6th and youngest wife). Zibatha is the child of a Jezaai mother and a Namutian father. This makes Ninma ethnically, 50% Kishic, 25% Jezaai, and 25% Namutian.

Ninma has 14 siblings, of which she is the youngest

Partially due to Hutbaris desire that his children not become undully influenced by their mothers's foreign influences, Ninma spends very little time with Zibatha, and knows relatively little about her.

Despite her young age, at the insistence of her father, Ninma has been tutored on how to read and write and is quite adept at it, when she wants to pay attention at least

Ninma's favorite story or piece of literature is The Naked Lord and the Crashing Waterfall by the poet Ramu, a less than age-appropriate comedy. Much to Ninma’s displeasure, the tutor who allowed her to hear this tale was promptly banished from the palace grounds and replaced.

Ninma loves to climb and has already broken 2 fingers from various falls at the age of five.

Her favorite colors are yellow followed by red.

Her prized possession is the golden circlet which she wears on her head, given to her by Hutbari as a birthday present

Her favorite food is nubut tuntiwanash literally "ovened fish" or more simply "Baked fish". She is also quite fond of peaches, which being still new to Kishetal, introduced from the east, are an incredibly expensive delicacy.

And here is a bonus, an Excerpt from Book 1 Chapter 1

A pair of slaves wafted the king and his guests with fans of wood and parchment to cool the nobility and to shoo away the fat black flies that had a penchant for taking afternoon swims in the wine and the beer. A handful of the king’s children took seats around the pit. The king's once prolific proclivity for producing children had slowed considerably in recent years. A rumor had drifted around the palace that Hutbari had become particularly close with one of his young advisors favoring the young man's company over that of any of his wives. They often disappeared into locked chambers to discuss policy and foreign relations. These discussions must have been quite heated if the sounds the servants heard emanating from closed doors indicated anything. The king’s youngest daughter, Ninma, dipped her bread in the wine, so as to allow it to soak up the crimson liquid. No doubt the little princess was meant to be practicing her letters under the eye of a palace scholar but Hutbari was far too engrossed by the fresh bowl of wine in his hand and the scene before him to notice her.

@patternwelded-quill @flaneurarbiter @skyderman @blackblooms @roach-pizza @illarian-rambling @dezerex @theocticscribe , @axl-ul By the way if anyone wants to be put into a taglist, please let me know by replying to this or messaging me!

[kazeofthemagun]

Anonymous asked:

send 🍀 and i'll recommend an oc rp blog

Positivity meme

[.....Oh boy y'all already know where this is going]

[I legally cannot answer this without putting my bestie in the #1 spotlight, aka Bug aka @cursedfortune aka some other blogs I'll mention in a sec. Literally the most amazing person ever and one of, if not the best friend I've made here in my 4~ years of being on tumblr.]

[To preface, Bug's blogs post ns/fw so keep safe if that's not your thing/you're a minor, as well as heavy content to be expected from dark fantasy-themed muses. The details you'll find on the blogs themselves, so I'll refrain from wasting too much time when I could be getting to the JUICE 🥤.]

[The main, the OG, @cursedfortune . Bug's main OC, Mortem, is amazing in every way. Seriously. She's got it all. Looking for a strong, competent female character with an intriguing and compelling backstory sprinkled throughout the blog? They're your Bug. Fancy some in-depth exploration on blue-and-orange morality that transcends human understanding and puts in the forefront the often terrifying workings of balancing forces? They're your Bug. Really, those who have been here for any amount of time probably know but Mortem is Kaze's first and only ship but neither of us went into it thinking those two chucklefucks would catch feels in that way. In hindsight it makes complete sense, but here's the deal: don't begin your journey with this character solely to ship. It won't work that way - shipping needs chemistry first and foremost and female OC muses are already dealing with many users who go in with only the intent to write romance/smut and largely ignore what makes the character so compelling and unique in the first place.]

[Not to give lessons on tumblr etiquette, I'm sure y'all can understand 💜]

[Some other OC blogs of Bug's that I've interacted with a bit less but are nonetheless amazing:]

@bvd11975 That's not a spambot, baby. That's Nes, a special agent of an agency focused on paranormal investigation that plays a key role in Bug's overarching setting. Kickass character, design, story and personality-wise.

@ofmanytxngues A glorious force of chaos lmao. Not *that* Chaos, but uhh.. there's def A Wormy Boi (gender neutral) involved there somewhere. Marie is another character I haven't written with all that much and is on hiatus atm but I simply cannot not give her a shoutout while I'm at it. Marie and Ana riding an ice cream truck when?

Some others that are more WIP atm ^^ you'd have to approach Bug for them. (And their canons! But this is a meme for OCs specifically ;)

[NOW, to take a break from gushing about the best soup to ever soup and give due spotlight to others who 100% deserve it - keep in mind this is based on my interactions with them, as in, I am unlikely to shout out people I haven't written with or otherwise interacted with enough!! This is in no way personal, but rather a natural consequence since there are SO many amazing people and muses on tumblr. 😄]

@halfkuma and @knightshonour . Those two started out as iterations on the same character and evolved into separate people: also feature a healthy dose of secondary OCs and some canons. Rowan is a character I've fallen in love with (figure of speech) very easily since, well, I do happen to enjoy gloomy, doomed by the narrative warriors, and Soulsborne, very much. Halfkuma is a blog based around the Touhou universe with the mains, Roan and Touri, being bear yokai. (Half and full respectively). Furthermore, Slap himself is one of the chillest beans on here and is always a pleasure to talk to and meme with.

@hriobzagelthewanderer !!! Because how could I NOT. Kov is amazing and so is his muse. I was so surprised to see a figure from Polish (and generally Slavic + Germanic) folklore, that I essentially grew up reading about, transformed and adapted into an amazingly crafted muse. Hriob Zagel combines various mythologies + popular media inspirations into one giant (pun intended) goofball who is an absolute delight to see on my dash.

Aaand last but not least (for now!) Though I haven't interacted with her personally just yet, @hexenjagd . Obligatory shoutout to a dark fantasy/Elden Ring-based female OC with some of the most intricate yet well-flowing backstory I've seen on the site. Helena, the Witch-Knight, a person branded by the touch of Death and everything it entails within the setting. Definitely grimdark and macabre in all the right ways and I am here for it. 😎

[writingwell]

20 13 fanfic questions

Thanks to @randomfoggytiger for the tag. I didn’t do all of them, just the pertinent ones, and I modified those just to include ffnet as well. 

1. How many works do you have? 26 on AO3 (for my mature rated Spy Castle stuff); fanfiction.net has 278 Castle fics;and about 300ish archived at Gossamer for X-Files.

4. What are your top fics by kudos/reviews? The Return of Vulcan Simmons, Tempest (not a spy work!) on AO3; ffnet would be One Hundred Days of Summer (co-authored with SandianeCarter) and Dash It All.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yeah, I think if you take the time to contact me, you deserve the respect of hearing from me. It might not be a full-blown conversation, but I’ll do what I can with a full-time profession and a writing one as well. Also, suuuuper sorry, just discovered AO3 has an inbox. 300 days ago, some of you messaged me and I am just now seeing those. Lol. 

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I have a spy fic where the two of them are just so at odds, so grieving with and over each other… okay that’s most of them. But I try not to end on angst, as it’s supposed to be the journey not the destination. (Angst is a twisting of the heart, not a place where you stay. According to me.)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Dash series has the ‘happiest’ endings. Not because life is happy, but because they figured out how to create contentment within what they’d been given/dealt in life. And in ways other versions of the Castle characters hadn’t accomplished. They did the work.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Oh definitely. A while back, I turned off comments on tumblr for about a year as I processed and healed from some targeted attacks, and I can say that I came out more certain of myself and my writing. But I was also an adult who had not been forced to weather these attacks as a vulnerable 13 y-o on social media (as so many of you are unfortunately dealing with). I was able to detach, center myself once more, and rise above because I’d grown up IRL, so to speak. I have a faith in something bigger than me which, while it doesn’t look like what it did, has sustained me and given me the confidence to know my worth even as it spurs me to be/do better. 

9. Do you write smut. If so what kind? Oh definitely, lol. It’s on AO3. Usually I like to explore M/F with a third in there for kicks, as the concept of generosity and giving within the sexual relationship/experience is intriguing to me.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I objected to the term ‘stolen.’ I’ve had my fics, without my knowledge, posted elsewhere, translated without my knowledge, and changed to other fandom characters to be posted elsewhere. However! I’ve had loads of people ask me too, and I really appreciate being able to go visit them. (Stolen would indicate I somehow own these fanfictions, and I do not, as that would be a legally difficult hill to stand on. I also do not perceive collective fan art in this manner, because the world is all of ours.)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? Oh there’s a co-written story that me, carto, and muppet47 started and have NEVER finished. We all know Castle has to go to jail, but we can’t write it.

16. What are your writing strengths? Writing it the first time. Correctly. As in, it comes out the way it should or ought to or how I am seeing it in the moment. I have the right rhythm, I can spell and I have the grammar skills. My first draft is fast and good enough for submission. Of course, I go back and edit, and I have to, but I’m very blessed in not ever going through anything like writer’s block.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Secondary characters. I have a tendency for tunnel vision, where all I want to do is talk about and to and for the main characters. If they have friends or family, I barely include them. I can’t manage to care that they exist. But all of us live in a complex web of relationships and community; no one is alone. My last novel, Taste of Salt, was an concentrated effort to include as many other perspectives as possible, so it was told through the POVs of the two main characters and interspersed with flashback chapters from the POVs of their friends, family, coworkers, chance encounters, medical personnel, kids, support networks… there you go.You have to do the thing that’s hard. Write it out, over and over, keep practicing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Yeah, sometimes it becomes necessary for the character. But please keep it to a minimum (imo) as it detracts from the reader’s understanding and experience of reading. It ought to be rather easy to understand what the person is saying due to context or just the flow of the scene. If you’re writing in English, and you have a character visiting France, then obviously some of that ought to be in French, but after a while, you can indicate that the language is being used while writing it in English. I say this because most of you are fandom writers who are not writing for literary audiences; therefore, don’t ruin everyone’s fun my making it incomprehensible or inaccessible. Please.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Don’t ask me to choose between my children! I can tell you that Dash holds a special place in my heart due to the amount of readers who said it gave them understanding of their own sensory issues or their child’s autism, etc. Spy gave me one of my greatest friends, carto, who continues to love and support me and my writing. 

I won't tag anyone, because I deleted so many of these questions, but feel free to answer or share or talk with me about them!