#vivian ichor

[altblock-tm]

OC Fun Fact #2

I have several different stories but only a few of them actually have names and because of that I can't really distinguish in the tags which group of ocs goes with which

The ones I DO have named though!

Show Time (named by the lovely @corrupted-tale): Features CEO, Dislan, Vexx, and more

And Then it Dawned on Him: Features Switch, Yazmin, Gemi, Vivian, and more

Masked: Of course :) Featuring Jaide, Outlander, and Ichor

Ambivalent Souls (name potentially a work in progress? I've been struggling with this one but I think I like this name): Features Maroon and his squad

Others I will refer to by just their squad names. "silly royal blorbos" or "[name of person I am biased toward in OC group]'s squad"

[simgerale]

vivian ichor

a new heart throb amongst the sulani islands, known to lure men in with her silky voice and blood-red lips...

[grey-eyed-menace]

Team UMBR

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Urisha 'Uri' Irons - Sparks To Fire - Ignis - The Little Match Girl - Female - Active [Alive]

Midnight 'Midna' Layton - Broken Spell - Shattered Glass - The Hour That Which Took Away The Magic - Male - Active [Alive]

Blizzard Styrmir - Storm Warning - First Frost - The Snow Queen - Male - Active [Alive]

Fuchsia Redbird - Multiply - From The Heart - Rapunzel - Female - Active [Alive]

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Team APLE

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Alice Frost - Crash Landing - Queen - Alice In Wonderland - Female - Active [Alive]

Calico Porter - Out Of Mind - Wicked Grin & Vulpine Smirk - Cheshire Cat - Male - Active [Alive]

LeBlanche March - Stopwatch - Out Of Time - White Rabbit - Male - Inactive [Teacher, Alive]

Eburnean 'Nean' Rodentia - Battle Stance - Like A Needle - The Dormouse - Female - Active [Alive]

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Team ONYX

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Orion Estela - Tracker - Artémis- The Hunter - Male - Active [Alive]

Nova Heart - Guillotine - Mirana - The Red Queen - Female - Active [Alive]

Yarrow Mandevilla - Hide Away - Kalon - The Maiden With The Rose On Her Forehead - Male - Inactive [Retired, Married, Alive]

Xeranthemum 'Xera' Vance - Long Way Home - Nurgul - The Juniper Tree - Female - Active [Alive]

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Team IRON

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Ingot Aeris - Incidentally - Widower - The Green Knight - Female - Active [Alive]

Renard Foxx - Silvertongue - Raven - The Crow and the Fox - Male - Inactive [Alive]

Ochre Nyanza - Someone Else - Carne - Donkeyskin - Female - Inactive [Deceased]

Nero Iolanthe - Strangled Threads - Red String - The Emperors New Clothes - Male - Active [Alive]

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Team WINE

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Fernand Wolfe - Instinct - Sköll & Hati - The Big Bad Wolf [Trying To Make Up For All His Mistakes] - Male - Inactive [Teacher, Alive]

Iris Kelila - Distressing Times - Grace & Elegance - The Princess [Who Doesn't Need Saving] - Female - Inactive [Pregnant, Alive]

Nickel Ferrum - The Chosen [Who Really Wishes The World Would Save Itself] - Edge of Life - Caliburn - Male - Active [Alive]

Erytheia Carmine - Enchance - Clarent - Lady Of The Lake [And All The Bullshit That Entails] - Female - Active [Alive]

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Team RAIE

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Raijin Wantanabe - Three Heads - Orochi - Susano-o - Male - Active [Alive]

Argus Galatea - Gemini - Golem - Galatea - Male - Inactive [Setting Up For Retirement, Alive]

Ichor Solfrid - Sunlight - Helios - Icarus - Female - Active [Alive]

Ebony McBride - Whispers - Screech - Boy Who Cried Wolf - Male - Inctive [Setting Up For Retirement, Alive]

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Team CCVN

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Cyan Braxton - Candor - Chardonnay - The Fox & the Grapes - Female - Active [Alive]

Crystal Ventus - Displacement - Bruyant - The Mischievous Dog - Male - Active [Alive]

Veil McBride - Too Quiet - Fury - The Seafoam - Male - Inactive [Officially, Probably Fucking Around Vacuo At The Time Of Canon]

Noir Ortzi - Selfish Whims - Sorcièr - The Fitchers Bird - Female - Active [Alive]

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Team SAFI

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Wisteria Summers - Burst - Fallen Petal - The White Maiden - Female - Unknown Status [Presumed Dead]

Ashlynn Viviane - Bleed - Simplicity - Rapunzel - Female - Inactive [Alive]

Felix Hegarty - Cauterize - Alistair - The White Knight - Male - Inactive [Deceased]

Indigo White - Shockwave - Bright and Sharpe - Godfather Death - Male - Officially Retired

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Team KAGE

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Kobalt Evergreen - Make 'Em Scream - Robin Hood - The Robber Bridegroom - Male - Active [Alive]

Addison Steele - At Dawn - Aurelio - Vasailia The Beautiful - Female - Active [Alive]

Garnet Sharde - Terms Of Agreement - Little Lady - The Black Knight - Male - Active [Alive]

Esmeralda Quick - Charm Point - Mon Amour - Aphrodite - Female - [Deceased]

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Team WAGR

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Winter Schnee - Glyphs - Greta - The Snow Queen - Female - Active [Alive]

Alabaster Clay - Steeled Heart - Ever Valiant - The Tin Soldier - Male - Inactive [Deceased]

Gaspar Lamar - Lure - Recorder - The Pied Piper - Male - Inactive [Deceased]

River Sigal - Sweet Tooth - Strudel - The Gingerbread Man - Female - Inactive [Deceased]

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Team RGLA

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Regina Aurelio - To Good To Be True - Golden Touch - King Midas - Female - Active [Alive]

Goldstein Waltz - Keep The Beat - Trouvaille - The Twelve Dancing Princesses - Male - Inactive [Injured]

Leona Adalhard - Resolve - Sisu - The Cowardly Lion - Female - Inactive [Legally Dead]

Addison Benjamin - Second Skin - Toska - Prince Lindworm - Female - Alive [Active]

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Team GHST

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Griselda Imber - On The Line - Fair Thread - Rumpelstiltskin - Female - Alive [Retired]

Heather Knight - Quiet & Fair - Versailles - Dark Lady - Female - Alive [Active]

Serafina Vered - Judgement - Lux - Bright Lady - Female - Alive [Active]

Tempest Steinn - Backstock - Avara - The Grasshoper - Male - Alive [Active]

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The focal OC's of the potential fanfic series 'Muted Colors (Vibrant Feelings)', focusing in in on the time Winter Schnee spent at Atlas Academy, and the few independent years she had with her team post-graduation.

This is not their entire year, for refrence, I've got a couple dozen more named background OC Team's, and their overall graduating class had over six-hundred individual teams graduate... unfortunately, I'm not going to name six hundred plus teams for your fancy.

If anything, any other character lists will just have the team name followed by its four members and who's partnered with who.

[And I now have to come up with Combat Maneuvers/Ship-Names for these fuckers.

'Recoil' is throwing a bitch, but which fucker throws which bitch is up for debate.

Urisha and Midnight are 'Lights Out'.]

[deputyash]

I was tagged by @glowwormsmith many months ago to do this “What flavor is your soul?” Quiz as my OCs! I also decided to do one for myself too cause I liked the quiz so much haha. Thanks for the tag I really loved this one! :)

I’ll tag: @strafethesesinners @krenee1drful @foofygoldfish @teamhawkeye @i-am-the-balancing-point @radiojamming and anyone who wants to try it! :D

Dove Ash:

Honey-

"Sugared mel e lingua serpentis." Sugared honey from a serpent's tongue. oh dearest, look how you gleam. how the sunlight dances off your shoulders, how the heavens shine across your wingtips. but you are hollow, hollow, hollow. even the taste of nectar can choke a man. sometimes the sweetest flowers hide the sharpest poison. you lie to yourself, the worst lie of all. you needn't be so obsessed with perfect. the greatest beauty lies in our faults. do you think the moon apologizes for their mara? no, their craters add to their glow. my dear, breathe. you are not an island, breathe, before the honey drowns you. you wish to be lovely, you long to be loved. but did Aphrodite trade her powers for perfection? she did not. you can be beautiful, and also whole. be whole above anything else dear. a heart of diamonds is worth nothing if ichor oozes from it. inward. look within and question how well do you know yourself? little petal are you trying to be a god? why? can a god bloom from sullen soil? no. you are whole as you are.

Vivian Wells:

Salt-

Ah little kraken, bold are you. restless sailor, dauntless fighter, lower your sword, let me see your shield. ah, of course, they are but the same object. oh wave-tossed ruffian, lend me some of your mettle would you? you have been struck by the sharpest of spears yet you still stand here proudly. but off your guard, elsewhere of the battlefield, you will find your spirit can parch others. your words are but weapons crafted from your soul. little lion, sheathe your claws, or the ones you love the most will suffer. you do not have to be strong all the time love, there's nothing wrong with being soft. vulnerability is not weakness, and if it were, what's wrong with that? strength is not always your greatest tool, your heart is good. put down Excalibur, and use your words. you'll find they will carry you much farther. not everything in life is a battle.

Valerie “V”:

Rosemary-

Ah, the old soul, nice to meet again. the time of ages is etched into your bones, you see clearly. you've watched the heartache in this realm and sworn to solve it. but kindness without limits is self destruction. oh little leaf, strong and wise, you seek to bring peace with your presence. I'd be wrong to say you fail at this effort, but you mustn't set yourself on fire to keep others warm. you wish to please everyone, to protect them all. but if you shield the saplings from the sunlight they will never grow, and you one day will wither. protect yourself too. you know there are no happy heroes, so don't be one. be a friend. your loved ones will not forsake you for not being perseus slaying all their demons. you have your own monsters, why not meet them first before you conquer anyone else's nightmares. oh true-hearted paladin you are brave, and you are good enough. you know that right? be true to yourself, one cannot do anything saintly if they did not tend to their own wounds first.

Me! (cause why not haha):

Lavender-

Oh moon child, restless sleeper, tell me what it's like to dream? you float along the margins of reality, picking up the pieces of fallen memories to sculpt into your own realm. you are searching, but your tongue is quiet, quiet, quiet. open your mouth and sing my dear, silence only does you good for so long. and here you planted roots in the darkness, where not even the moon can reach your leaves. there is such a thing as being too practical, for you sail your ship on perpetually calm waters, and never have you spotted land. your mind has wings, uncage them! allow yourself to dream, you are not too far gone. there is no such thing! trust in yourself dear.

[thespectralvision]

Flufftober 2021 - 3. Lazy Sundays

Part of the @flufftober2021 challenge, featuring Wanda, Vision, and the Minimoffs. You can also read this on Ao3 HERE

Rating: PG/Teen

Pairing: The Vision x Wanda Maximoff

Characters: The (White) Vision, Wanda Maximoff, Viv Vision-Maximoff, Billy Maximoff, Tommy Maximoff

Warnings: Light mentions of alien gore, mentions of Wanda and Vision sexy-times

Other: This and the other one-shots I’m doing for this collection are set in my wider Paprika series and most of them take place after my WIP ‘Working Theory’ where the White Vision has reunited with Wanda. This story takes place in an undetermined further where they have gotten their children back and have ended up adopting a young synthezoid, Viv.

Summary: Vision returns home from a job much later than expected, dissapointed he has missed most of the weekend and just wants a day off. He comes up with a plan and Viv agrees to help.

*- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *-*

Vision stops outside the door, checking the time on his internal clock and sighing in frustration. 3:41 AM. He had planned to be home by dinner tonight, after being gone the better part of a week, but the mission he had been roped into had not panned out as planned. He understood – that was simply the job – but it meant he had already lost half of his weekend. It’s not helped by the knowledge that Wanda will be leaving on her own mission assisting Dr. Strange early on Monday and that Billy, Tommy, and Viv would be back at school. At least it was only Sunday, and that meant none of them had any pressing matters once his family woke up for the day. And he could certainly find a way of making things up to Wanda – Vision was sure she would like what he had in mind.

First things first though – a shower and rest. Not even phasing his body so the viscera of the alien creature fell away could make Vision feel clean. He was thankful his uniform couldn’t stain, the worst of the green-black ichor simply sliding off the synthetic white material unlike his team-mates. Fortunately Sam’s goggles and cowl had kept the worst off his face, unlike Bucky who had been the least lucky in the encounter and had walked away with dripping gore-filled hair and an understandably sour expression. The Winter Soldier knew the job and had shrugged it off but Vision knew the incident would be grounds for the others to tease him in the coming days.

Quietly, Vision simply phases through the door, not wanting to accidentally wake the human members of his family needing rest. While Wanda sleeps better now than she had when they first started sharing a space, he knows she is a light sleeper and still prone to nightmares, especially when he is away. He can quickly wash up and join her, and looks forward to the intimacy of holding her while his body enters its own much needed, albeit shorter, rest cycle.

Given the late hour, Vision is surprised to find a light on in the front room. It flickers and glows and he realizes that it’s the TV. Maybe Wanda had stayed up late, waiting for him and fallen asleep in front of the television? It had happened before and if that were the case he could gently wake her and they could retire together to their room.

Shifting his density to remain silent, Vision enters the room and is surprised to find not his wife, but Vivian playing a video game. Despite his attempt to remain silent, she turns to face Vision with a bright smile, dropping the controller and removing her headset as she gets up.

“Father! You’re back! Mother was worried about you but I assured her you were still online before she went to bed.” His daughter wraps her arms around him and Vision pulls her in for a tight hug. Of course she had known he was there – just like him she’s always connected to the world. Vision has had talks with his daughter about what he believes may be an over-dependence on the internet but he is glad she was able to reassure the rest of their family in his absence. Vision finds it hard to be upset with any of their children most days, which Wanda has teased him for on multiple occasions.

“Yes, I’m sorry. What we thought was a simple retrieval mission turned into quite a fight. Luckily we were still successful and no one was severely injured. Well, Sergeant Barnes’ dignity perhaps.” Vision grins when Viv laughs in response, before she pulls away wrinkling her nose in a way that is certain she picked up from Wanda.

“Whatever you fought smelled awful and it is lingering. You should probably shower before you join mother.”

“That was my plan. What I had not planned was finding my daughter playing video games at nearly 4 in the morning.” Vision appreciates that Viv has the awareness to look sheepish. As a synthezoid himself he understands that she does not require sleep in the same way a human might but he has always stressed the importance of entering a rest cycle each day. When he had been younger he would remain awake for days at a time, only entering a rest cycle when he hit a limit. He had learned after entering his relationship with Wanda and her desire to share her bed with him that a shorter sleep cycle each night was more efficient in the long run. It also established routine, something he has worked to maintain at the recommendation of Dr. Cho when struggling to adapt to his new life, and something which Vision has tried to ingrain in his children.

“I have already completed a sleep cycle and diagnostic for the night.”

Vision raises an eyebrow and steps back, crossing his arms in his best attempt to look stern. “Truly?”

“Y...yes.”

“Alright then. Enjoy your game.” He knows he should send her back to her room, and that Wanda will reprimand them both in the morning but he can’t bring himself to do it. He bends down to kiss the top of Viv’s head goodnight before turning towards the stairs. An idea strikes just as he is about to ascend the stairs and he turns to the young synthezoid once more. “Oh, and Vivian?”

“Yes father?”

“When your brothers wake up would you please advise them to be patient. We both know your mother enjoys her ‘lazy’ mornings on the weekend. If she has been up worried about my well-being I am certain she will want to sleep in.” She doesn’t need to know that Vision wants a few selfish hours with his wife to just himself on his day off.

“Yes, of course. Can we make breakfast if you are not awake yet?” Her expression brightens with anticipated excitement. Vision is not certain when his children decided they wanted to cook every possible meal – perhaps a sign of their growing independence as they get older. He also suspects Wanda may be putting them up to it to avoid suffering through Vision’s own mediocre attempts at cooking.

“I don’t see any reason why not, as long as you clean up after yourselves. Good night, Vivian.”

“We will. Good night father.” With that Viv returns to her game and her focus is redirected to the screen. Vision smiles, shaking his head fondly as he heads up the stairs.

A quick step through the wall of the boy’s rooms confirms that they are still sound asleep, and satisfied that his family is safe, Vision finishes the journey down the hall to his own room. He decides to simply phase through the door again rather than risk waking Wanda, knowing that she is used to his odd abilities and less likely to be frightened by the spectral white and blue form than the creaking noise and smiles when he sees his wife asleep. He needs a shower before he can join her - if even Vivian’s olfactory sensors picked up the lingering scent of the fight Wanda will too - but Vision can’t help crouching down to be level with his wife’s face and pressing a gentle kiss to her exposed cheek.

“Vizh?” Green eyes blink open, and a sleepy smile passes over her face as Wanda moves to sit up and look him over. Vision can’t help but appreciate the view of exposed and freckled skin as she shifts, her sleeping top pulling away.

“I’m sorry darling, I would have called but...well you know how our line of work gets.”

“Viv said you were ok. I knew you were too, I can sense it...but I still worry.” While the mystical energies of the world are something of a mystery to Vision he knows that the link between himself and Wanda Maximoff is something that has proven to be unbreakable. Even when his body had died, now years ago, she had carried him with her until he had been brought back online. Vision had been afraid that life without an Infinity Stone to connect them would break their relationship but it has only proven to make the link stronger, somehow. “She’s so much like you.”

“She is. She is currently downstairs playing her game, even though I am assuming you told her to go to bed?”

“Mmmmhmmm, I did.” Wanda shakes her head, bemused. “Honestly, as long as she is quiet I don’t mind. I know you two don’t need sleep like the rest of us. Must be nice.” Vision can’t hold back the amused huff as she yawns while saying it.

“Not sleeping is not nearly as exciting as it sounds. After about 18 hours one starts to run out of activities to fill the time. Besides, if I recall I have already lost plenty of time not sharing your bed back in Sokovia. I may be making up for that lost time forever.” Vision moves to stand and Wanda reaches out to pull him down for a proper kiss.

“Mmm, I remember you always hovering in the corner being moody and distant. Beds are much more comfortable.” She holds him close for a moment longer before pulling back with the same expression Viv had made earlier. “Is that smell you? What the hell were you three fighting?”

“I’m still not entirely sure. I was going to clean up before joining you, but I wanted to make sure you were alright first. I know how you worry...”

“Well clearly I’m fine. Please go shower. That is...wow.” Wanda playfully shoves him away, a flash of red light as her powers glowing as red mist pushes him back. Vision shakes his head, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright. I am going. I will be back in a few minutes to join you.”

As promised, minutes later Vision finally feels clean and comfortable now that he’s washed and changed and re-enters the room, taking his place on the left side of their bed. Wanda is already dozing back off but happily curls against him.

“Better?”

“Much.” He can feel Wanda taking a deep breath, her face buried against his neck and the tickle of air as she exhales to prove her point.

“Mmm. Good. At least we don’t have to do anything in the morning. I informed Vivian that you and I would like to enjoy a nice, lazy Sunday morning together. She will let the boys know when they wake up.”

“Oh? Is there a reason you want me all to yourself, Mr. Maximoff?” Wanda shifts to smirk up at him and Vision returns with a coy expression of his own.

“I did promise I would make my extended absence up to you, didn’t I?”

----

“Good morning Viv, did dad come home last night?” Billy plops down on the sofa next to his sister, and a groggy Tommy follows shortly after.

“Yes, he did. He is upstairs. Before he retired he asked me to tell you both that he and mother would like to be left alone this morning.”

“Why? Is he alright?” Tommy frowns, glancing upstairs. “He’s been gone all week and it’s almost noon, what is he doing? Normally he’s down here making us breakfast already even when Mom sleeps in.”

Viv glances up as well and thinks for a moment, calculating the probabilities of what their parents are doing. “The highest probability is he and mother are engaging in sexual intercourse-”

She’s cut off by Billy’s exclamation of “Ew!” and Tommy’s “Gross, I don’t want to think about that Viv!”

“You did ask. I have been keeping track and whenever one of them mentions wanting to have a ‘lazy Sunday morning’ that is often what it entails.” She gets up and starts walking towards the kitchen, grinning back at the twins. “The good news is I already obtained permission from Father to make ourselves breakfast. I believe there is a box of cake mix in the cupboard.”

Billy exchanges a look with his twin and both nod in agreement. Maybe their parents being occupied with each other wasn’t so bad if they could have cake for breakfast.

[ichorcoded]

CODE VEIN NOTES.

NIHILUM NEX BLOODCODE.

PASSIVES:

BLOODLETTING; light | passive

Significantly increases ichor gained when successfully performing a back-stab attack.

RESTING GROUNDS; light | passive

Using a regeneration will leave a small growth of white vines beneath the user’s feet. This can be later picked up by the user themselves or their partner for a quick heal.

GHOSTWIRE; dark | passive

A successful parry will teleport the user through & behind the enemy opening the target to an opportune backstab or simple evasive maneuver.

DEATH MARK; Nihilum Nex Exclusive dark | passive

Similarly to Deliverance, Vivian will take the damage of his partner, but it takes effect immediately. Any damage received by an enemy will be absorbed by this blood code’s user.

ACTIVE:

QUEEN’S KNIGHT; skill | active

The next five swings of any weapon in the user’s hands will leave phantom blades hovering into the air that will slice into the enemy target after five(5) seconds.

HANGMAN; skill | active

The stinger tail grapples and raises a target into the air, dealing high damage as it ‘crushes’ their throats before dropping them. Aiming this can be difficult.

HER HEIR; dark | active

The scorpion tail of the stinger veil rise up with multiple heads, mimicking the look of the Queen’s white thorns that will hurtle towards the target.

QUEENSLAYER; dark | active

User will sacrifice 3/4th of their health to sharply increase their speed, stamina, and attack power (physical & active gifts). Cannot be staggered or blocked, but will not be able to heal until skill resets. Health will deplete to zero if user stands idle.

RE:SIN; Nihilum Nex Exclusive dark | active

A timed skill. Changes based on the user’s BLOOD VEIL.

STINGER: The user will have the opportunity to rely entirely on a stinger for long ranged attacks, grapples, and assaults. Examples being such as grabbing enemies and throwing them, impaling them to the ground, crowd controls enemies in a condensed area if possible. At the end of the assault, the scorpion tail will burrow into the ground, and rise up in similar fashion to an IVY-drain, impaling enemies on spikes that jut out like a crucifix.

OGRE: The user will have both hands transformed into the monstrous hands with piercing claws that will impale the enemy as well as ignore armor. Enemies will also be pushed in the direction of a user’s swiping attacks. Critical hits will kill an enemy out right by crushing their skulls in the Ogre’s claws.

IVY: The ivory blades will rise up as a type of shield wall to deflect oncoming assaults, while the user is simultaneously allowed to perform a drain trap (moving the shadow underneath whomever in their view) to raise them up with impaling spikes. Serves as a perfect guard against multiple enemies, as the spikes will automatically rise up when an enemy rushes the the user. However, the user can only use the spike trap to return the assault. User can however use long-distance spells or regenerations. Opportune for regeneration in emergencies.

HOUND: The dogs produced from this drain attack will detach from the blood veil (save for a kind of ‘ leash’ still connecting them and the user) but will be able to travel longer distances to assault and stagger enemies in a crowd. Will often go after an enemy that strikes at the user, but is not the user’s focus target at the time.

User will be staggered for a short time afterwards.

[fictionshewrote]

11/11/11 Tag Game

I was tagged by @wordlegacy for this one. Thanks bug 💜

1. What scenes are the worst to write?

Oof, filler scenes. Well, I dunno if you’d call it filler, because of course it’s necessary, but it’s those scenes that you have to write to get from one Really Juicy Scene to the next Really Juicy Scene. I’m not good at writing the introspective, quiet moments of reflection that characters need, so these parts are very frustrating (but of course necessary).

2. What can you say is a thing you love most about your writing?

My brevity. This is really a double-edged sword, because I can usually keep things short, but I often come back to find it’s because I’ve neglected to add in very necessary description and exposition. But I like that I can usually cut to the quick with a handful of words. I feel like it gives those words more weight and power when I use them sparingly.

3. What is writing advice that you take to heart?

“You can’t edit a blank page.” Jodi Picoult said this and my entire world tilted on its axis. I’m a big perfectionist. My mom recently told me I nearly failed first grade because I refused to turn in any work unless I knew I’d get a 100 on it. I’m not all that different as an adult, but this quote sort of woke me up to realizing “perfection” isn’t instant.

4. How do you keep yourself from quitting writing altogether?

I have quit before. I didn’t miss it too much most of the time, but I also felt a bit stunted. Like I was living in a house where half the rooms were locked and boarded up. So now when I stop writing, I think of that feeling, and I think of holding a book with my name on it, a book with a barcode and a dedication to my family. I think of how that’ll feel, and I keep going.

5. What is the strangest thing you searched up on the internet for writing purposes?

Lots of Google Maps’ street view happens, but other than that...I did spend one entire afternoon researching modern torture techniques and scrolling through forums on gunshot wounds, but that’s standard writer fare honestly.

6. Not a question, but shoutout a writeblr (or multiple) that you think needs to hear that they are awesome and doing a great job (by the way everyone, you all are awesome and doing a great job. Keep it up).

Of course I’m going to holler about @maybeillwriteit and her fabulous WIP starring a pirate and an assassin who fall in love. I would like to also take the opportunity to holler about every single mutual I have and every single person in my inbox, because I love you all and your WIPs spark joy.

7. Your OCs are trapped on a deserted island, what would they be doing?

Riza: looking for the rum muttering irritably and gathering coconuts to eat

Kas: cataloguing the species of ocean life in the shallows to try and figure out where they are

Nathan: lying spread-eagle on the sand moaning, “We’re all gonna die”

Alise: telling Nathan to shut up while she tries to fix their boat/plane/whatever

Vivian: making wood piles to burn for smoke signals and generally saving all of their asses

8. What is your biggest inspiration for your WIPs? (could be a book, other forms of media, your own experiences etc.)

Definitely my own experiences, but also just...people. People I see on the news or in movies or on social media. People with all of these experiences that deserve more attention than they get.

9. A habit you have when it comes to writing?

Frequent breaks lol. And frequent checking of the word count tracker.

10. A fact about your world and/or characters?

The Heist is set in summer 2020, in the midst of the election cycle and huge protests/riots/marches across the country.

11. If your WIP/s got turned into a movie or series, what would be the quote on the promotional poster or trailer?

Oooh, this is a good one. I honestly have no idea. Probably something about togetherness or the universality of love/friendship or something along those lines. But I’m TERRIBLE at blurbs.

Tagging: @slytherpens @dove-actually @raiswanson @writer-jessicac @littlesisreads @thedreamsofthesky @the-ichor-of-ruination @coloursintheblur @doriwrites @kainablue @ofinkblotsandscript

I also really love these questions, so I’m gonna keep them too!

[jim-protection-squad]

Something was off about Vivian. A broad statement, yes, but one Danika could make with confidence. For the last few days, she had seemed a bit more erratic than usual, and Danika could sometimes hear whispers and what sounded like the crackling of electricity around her. Once or twice, she even swore she saw a figure who looked just like her in black and white, donning a mask, but their expression always remained stone-faced anger. Today, now, Vivian had locked herself away completely- refusing to come out of her art ‘studio’, where she kept her painting supplies and her small garden. Through the door, one-sided arguments could be heard, and sometimes the sound of faint sobbing with it. She hadn’t come out of the studio all day. When she woke up, she’d lasted maybe an hour, gold energy crackling around her every so often. When Danika tried to talk to her, the responses were curt. “I need you to stay out of it”, “I’m fine, don’t worry about me”, and perhaps most troubling of all, “There’s nothing you can do for me right now.” Things only came to a boiling point when she’d shattered the bathroom mirror, claiming to “see things that weren’t her”, before proceeding to lock herself away in the studio. Okay, Danika thought. She just needs time to cool down. Maybe something happened she doesn’t wanna talk about. That led, though, to Danika sitting outside the door three hours later, ignoring the energy crackling through her from something seemingly blocking off the doors. The same energy she could see around Vivian the past few days now sent a small shock to her when she touched it, though it grew to dissipate when she didn’t try to force her way in and instead just sat against it. This force seemed less malevolent when she was around, but… she didn’t even know what it was! Besides, enough is enough. Standing up, she knocked on the door and ignored the energy jolt as she called out. “Viv?” The voice that answered was not Vivian’s. “Go away,” it screeched, two once-beautiful voices combining into a cacophony of malice. Frowning, she sighed, knocking harder. “I wanna help you.” “I don’t need your help. Go- go away, if you know what’s best for you!”

Okay, that was it. Whatever this was… wasn’t Vivian anymore. Her frown turning into a scowl, she pounded against the wood, the action demanding an answer in and of itself. “Open up!” No response. Of course. Taking a few steps back, Danika ran and threw herself against the doorway- the energy engulfing her to the point of unconsciousness, where her body fell to the floor with a sickening ‘thud’.

When she awoke, a black and white room surrounded her, with a familiar figure sitting in an armchair in front of them. The only color present seemed to be crimson- blood stained the walls, the furniture, even her host’s face… Wait. A pool of gold blood oozed from a wound in their chest, though they seemed yet unfazed. Their form warped, almost glitching apart as though this were nothing more than an elaborate hologram, but when they reached out to cup her cheek, she knew they were real. “I suppose you’re wondering who I am. No- No!” Their calm tone immediately devolved into a screech, dividing itself into two voices- one which sounded like Vivian, and one which did not at all. The golden electricity crackled around their figure, overtaking everything in the room and making Danika’s hair stand on end. “I am not going to sit back and watch this happen! She took so long to even acknowledge me–she promised that she would let me in, that she would give me the respect I deserve–and now she refuses to tell you the truth!” The speech began to cut out, almost as if they were speaking on a level she couldn’t hear. “Let’s start over. My name is Ichor. And I want you to know who I am. Your darling 'Vivian’ has pushed me aside for too long! She knows what has happened to me, she knows how much I lost, and she turns around and flaunts it in front of me! I lost everything because of someone she calls a friend. He will take it all away from her too. Yet she ignores me. I have been promised and given empty words that she will do what she can to make things right, and still… I am here. I am forced to take matters into my–our–own hands. She has wronged me, Danika. She knows that I lost the love she takes for granted, and she cares not.” Adjusting the mask over their face, Ichor dipped their fingers into the pool of their own blood, marking Danika’s forehead with an odd symbol: an eye, with a rose protruding from it. “Mark my words, Danika. She will learn that I am not one who is easily ignored. I have power beyond your comprehension, and I shall not stand for this injustice.” A smile crossing their face, they snapped their blood-covered fingers- and Danika went under again, the golden energy surrounding her forcing her into unconsciousness.

[colonel-william-protection-army]

stepping off anon because why not- the latter of those pieces actually is unfinished, that's about all i have. it's a similar situation to wkm, with the pov character (gabriel) of the first having been possessed into killing his sister, but the second... it's hard to explain. basically, the whole 'wkm-esque' universe, also called the masterpiece universe, is an offshoot of the main timeline. the 'victim', vivian, exists in the main timeline as a part of that version of them's psyche. (1/?)

because they exist in vivian's psyche, with her consent, they can take control of her body and basically push her into the 'ethereal plane'. the dead person in the second piece is the main timeline incarnation of the person (william) who caused the gabriel from masterpiece to kill the vivian, who also killed gabriel's datemate/vivian's qpp, torhis, and his sister, june. masterpiece's vivian (also called ichor) took control of vivian's body (2/?)it's a different version of someone in the same body, they still look exactly like vivian- so when "vivian" brought him to "her" house, he thought nothing of it. at least, not until "she" knocked him out, set up the scene of the murder, and. well, let's just say the last time that he woke up was unpleasant. (they gouged his eyes out, among other things). ichor did all this while having relegated vivian to the ethereal plane, so vivian woke up the prime murder suspect. [need more explained? hmu]Wowie!! That sound pretty awesome!! I feel bad for him though! Eyeball gouging isn't very comfortable.

[necrctic]

super special announcement:

I’ve FINALLY posted Alex’s full bio. You can read it here, or under the cut:

Alex Reed has had a long-standing relationship with Death. It claimed her father in a factory fire when she was four and took her mother a few years later. Some say her mother died of a broken heart, but more likely it was the pills. She was the one who found her mom’s body, glassy-eyed and cold on the bathroom floor.

Foster care shipped her off to Oklahoma when she was seven to live with her aunt and uncle, Vivian and Trevor Peterson. They had a too-small mobile home and didn’t care for Alex much, but they did like the monthly check that came with her. Aunt Viv was skinny and vicious, too fond of corporal punishment and always smelled like menthols. Uncle Trevor worked most of the time, and when he was home, he drank deep and scowled from his La-Z-Boy.

Alex shared a room with her cousin Hannah; Michael and Evan shared another. The cousins said she was a W E I R D kid. Said she talked to herself. Said she made up stories to scare them. Alex said she was only talking to her new friends: the nice old man from the car accident, the lady with the cuts on her arms, the drowning boy. She said they found her; they were lonely and sad and sometimes angry, and they loved her because she could SEE, see them, see that they were still real, still here.

Aunt Viv switched her and told her to stop lying. She learned quick to shut up about the things she knew.

                                    ☠

Seven years later, and Alex was a regular delinquent. Always making trouble at school, always fighting, always sneaking out. She was got a first-name basis with the sheriff for skipping class. And for stealing. And for vandalism. Uncle Trevor left them a couple years back, and ever since Aunt Viv had been even meaner; she drank then, too, and took it out on Alex when she was in the bottle. They were always screaming. Aunt Viv liked to throw things, but Alex got better at dodging.

The dead found her more often then. Most times, they were her only company, and most times, they were good. She learned how to keep the other ones from noticing her much. The angry ones. The ugly ones. The ones who couldn’t see beyond their hurt anymore. (What a shame, what a tragedy, to become so torn up and twisted like that.)

She ran away that summer, when it started feeling like she’d suffocate in Oklahoma, like one day that ground would just open up and swallow her whole. Just took fifty bucks from Aunt Viv’s purse and hopped on the first bus out of town, leaving memories and ghosts in the dust.

                                    ☠

She was sixteen in New York, and she had tricks up her sleeves. Her only friend was a dead girl called Cherry, and that day they were earning some money. Game plan:

Go buy a hot dog

“Forget” the bag with the dead crow in it next to the vendor

Wait for the hot dog guy to open the bag

Chaos!!

Steal the cash box

Alex had just finished her lunch when Cherry pointed. The vendor picked the bag up and peeled it open with greasy fingers. All it took was a little focus and the dead bird suddenly F L E W out of the bag, crazy, peck-peck-pecking at the vendor, at the people in line. (Alex had figured out this little trick last year; if she concentrated hard enough, she could make things come alive again for a minute or two.) It wasn’t hard to slip behind the counter and make off with the money while the corpsebird had everyone distracted. Easy as pie. Easy as sin.

She was counting her loot when HE appeared, gliding into the alleyway like a shadow in the fading light. He made Cherry disappear with a wave and offered her a cigarette. He smiled like a shark and had hair as black as spilled ink and sharp eyes full of knowing. Of understanding. Of camaraderie. Eyes that said, We’re just alike, you and I.

He showed her a tattoo on his chest: a three-headed dragon eating its tail. That means home, he said in his milk-and-honey voice. Come away with me.

                                    ☠

Emilian Vadovescu was the head of a strange family of lost people. They lived in the wilds, in the dark places of the Carpathian mountains, in an ancient hideaway. The Solomonanţă, the Scholomance, a long-forgotten place of learning, where the walls whispered secrets if you were wise enough to listen.

When he brought Alex there, she finally felt as though she’d found a home. A place she fit in. Among other creeps, other freaks, other outcasts: she belonged. No, more than that: she flourished. Emilian was a wealth of knowledge. Life is chaos, he said. Life is entropy. Death is the order of the universe. Don’t fear it―embrace it. He taught her the ways of dead things. How to read the bones, how to dream herself free of her body and walk the in-between places, how call spirits and command them, to echo WILL into her voice and see how the dead bend to it. Her teacher demanded much of her, and she gave all. The lessons, the practice, the long hours and the merciless pursuit of perfection.

(The first time he kissed her, she thought: ‘Yes. Teach me this, too. Teach me everything there is to know.’ He called her Star Pupil. He called her Gifted. Magnificent. Beautiful. He called her Lover.)

Her teacher demanded much of her, and she gave all―but he demanded more. Then came the secrets. The research. The hidden tomes, the whispers from the oldest stones among the keep. DARK THINGS, voidtalk of nightmares and paradise, of power from beyond the Veil, of change and revolution. Death is the order of the universe, he said. Control death and be as God. And Gods demand ritual. Gods demand sacrifice. Become the rock on which I build my church. Become my flaming sword, my harbinger.

The transformation was costly. Old powers take their pound of flesh, wash it down with a few pints of blood. It left her with empty spots inside. In her guts. Maybe in her soul. It made her something new, something not-quite-right, something a little in-between. Half-dead but more alive than ever.

(When she rose from the altar, he looked on with pride. The others called them Power Couple. He called her Right Hand. Emilian: wolfish shepherd to the flock. Alexandra: wielder of the cattle prod.)

And then, unsurprisingly, came the demands for more and more. Emilian was a hungry God, and he had voracious ambitions. He wanted to take a bite out of reality. To the faithful, he spoke of Redemption and Salvation; no more hiding in the shadows, no more being outcasts. New World Order shit. He had the knowledge. He had the means. He had a host of devoted soldiers and a pretty blonde weapon by his side.

But he should have asked Jehovah: What’s the downside of free will? It’s not always pride that goeth before the fall; sometimes it’s conscience. Sometimes it’s looking in the mirror and no longer recognizing the thing looking back.

                                    ☠

The final straw was William Allen.

In a place where the walls whisper secrets, it stands to reason that one day they’d start to whisper your own. And Alex knew how to listen. She found a new book. A new old book. A new old book belonging to one William Allen: Solomonari, Apprentice, The One Who Came Before.

And the walls said, Silly girl, did you think you were the only one?

The book was full of notes and self-reflection. Details on lessons, spells, and daily life in the Scholomance, under the tutelage of Emilian Vadovescu. The final chapter of the book was about a ritual, a sacrifice, a pound of flesh for a hungry god. William had been scared―scared out of his mind. Alex knew that fear, had felt it clawing up her throat on the altar when her teacher sliced her wrists and her lifeblood ran like rivers down the stone; when the dark stretched out its awful maw and started taking chunks out of her; when Death reached inside and gripped her soul in a vice. That’s the trick: you can’t fear it; you have to embrace it. The moment she stopped being afraid, when she welcomed in the cold and dark, that’s when the P O W E R flooded in; when her blood turned to black ichor and flowed back into her veins and she opened her eyes, wide and terrible, to the cosmos.

Maybe William kept being afraid. Maybe he hadn’t known to let the dark in. She flipped through the pages of the book, idle, until something caught her eye. A date: 1907. She paused.

And the walls said, Dumb girl, how do you think He knows so much?

‘That would make him over a hundred years old.’

Older, older.

                                    And older still.

‘How is that possible?’

                                                    How else?

              He eats. Grows stronger.                             Lives longer.

‘Eats what?’

What do you think happened     to the ones who didn’t pass the test?               No use for a sword with a dull edge.      No use for an apprentice full of fear, an animal that can’t adapt:

                                                except  o n e…

She tried to summon this William, this lost, scared boy, but when she drew herself up and commanded his spirit appear… nada. Zip, zilch, zero. It should have been easy, there in the place he’d lived, with one of his own belongings in her hands; his spirit should have left traces there, should have jumped to obey her call. And yet: nothing.

The walls showed her the names of the others: Dietrich, Ekaterina, Alim, Francisco, Beatrix, Gorvenal, Cassius, and on and on. She called on each, so many times, and got more of the same: NOTHING. Not a stir, not a whisper, not a sigh.

                         Yes. He is ravenous.

                                    ☠

What do you do when you realize God’s got an M.O.? What do you do when you start to wonder: Could I have been next? When you start to wonder: Why? And: What have I done?

If you’re Alex, you have a crisis of faith. You deconvert. You plan your Fall. You make off in the night with nothing but the clothes on your back and a bag full of pilfered holy relics, the temple in chaos behind you, your brothers and sisters screaming: TRAITOR, TRAITOR, TRAITOR….

[lux-scriptum]

The Characters

Personal Demons (mains/majors)

Cadoc

Barachiel (Barry)

Alice

Aalis

Amara

Cináed

Tuathal

Angela

Bailey

Basilius

Personal Demons (minors, but Important)

Fabius

Gabriel (Riel)

Raphael

Michael

Uriel

Lucifer

Camael

Haniel

Conroy

Dante

The Spinoff (PD Universe)

Faolán

Eirian

Muir

Laoise

Branwen

(The Raven)

Ichor

Kesi

Savio

Lloyd

Nisha

Roald

The werewolf/witch thing

Lona

Ione

Elijah

Godfrey (Hawkins, plz)

Ethan

Dragonmarked

Aryleigh (Ari)

Madoc

Nathanael

Renier

Fira

Eira

Edan

Atrox

Etheline

THAT UNNAMED GOD

The Elder

Gavrel

Kir

Sevrin

The Kings Whore

Vivian

The Lev N Fax Saga

Levant (Lev)

Fairfax (Fax)

Sorin

Cyrus

Taegan

Silas

The Hero/Villain Thing

Cassandra (Cass)

Rae

Liam

Romaine (Rome)

Lights Out

Logan

Renfrew (Ren)

Tessa

Reneé

Daniel (Dani)

Matthias

Maximus

The Pirate Dragons

Zora

Aure

Ean

Tobias

[jim-protection-squad]

L'appel du Vide

Ever since the encounter with Ichor, Danika had been more than a little on edge. Vivian remained blissfully unaware of what happened–according to her, she found Danika unconscious on the floor–and Ichor’s presence began to fade, leaving only the Vivian that she knew and loved. However, it was clear to her that Ichor still remained. Vivian’s shadow would gain a red and black eye behind her back, the scent of metal and gunpowder would overtake the flowers and dirt surrounding her, her voice would begin to split, despite her inability to notice. For a fraction of a second, the black and white figure stained gold took Vivian’s place, a finger to the lips of their mask and features contorted to a smirk.

Despite it, Vivian seemed cheerful as ever. Though her smile was strained, eyes red and puffy with familiar dark circles under them, she spent more time with Danika. She’d sent their daughter, Ronnie, to stay with her uncle, despite the fact that she’d always been suspicious of them together due to their… less than law-abiding natures. Bringing a daily bouquet from her garden, the flower seemed to change each time. Foxglove, purple hyacinth, anemones, and, most recently, rhododendrons. It became a pastime to weave them in with Danika’s hair, a crown of purple flowers.  However. The mirror remained broken, and she always checked over her shoulder at the slightest sound. A loud noise and she’d jump back, clutching her chest and staggering backwards with fear in her eyes. She refused to look anyone in the eye, as if afraid she might see something not meant for her. Multiple times, Danika came across scraps of paper, canvas that had been thrown out, claw marks on the walls, all forming a specific symbol. The eye, rose protruding from it as always, messily scrawled in pen, in muted color, scratched into wood, brick, anything. Ichor had appeared to her in dreams. Hushed conversation, where Danika would ask questions and receive the answers- though whether they were true or not, she didn’t know. She would wake with peonies, zinnias, yellow roses wrapped around her neck, thorns leaving wounds where they had been. This morning, an aconite bloomed from a gash in her throat. The question she’d asked? “How did you die?” …They hadn’t taken kindly to the inquiry, but answered, reluctance clear in their voice. “I was murdered. My–her–brother. But it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t himself. He was possessed.” They spoke in two voices- one feminine, one masculine, both with equal emotion. One seemingly on the verge of tears, though it sounded like tears born of anger, and the other like a bowl of honey left out for five minutes that rotted into vinegar. The world around her glitched and warped, there was screaming in her ears. It wasn’t her own. It wasn’t even the voices of anyone she knew, though she recognized them from Ichor’s initial appearance, but it sent chills down her spine regardless. Gold trailed from the wound in their chest, their own form splitting into two distinct images: a bloodstained–no, that wasn’t blood. Was that… ink?–woman surrounded in a jade aura, holding a torn photograph like a lifeline, and… this figure didn’t even look human. Horns sprouted from his head, and blood of all different colors coated his body, a smirk on his face and a trident in front of him, fuchsia energy radiating from him. ‘Ichor’ had dissipated, ceased existing, and Danika could vaguely recognize the pair in front of her. That was… oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh- A shrill scream, layered in the two voices, resonated through the empty air, and Ichor reappeared, with ink, as well as gold and pink blood smeared across their frame. Danika screamed with them, watching the two previous apparitions fade into nothingness. “…You know too much.” Standing, Ichor wiped the blood off their mask before removing it entirely. A bloodstained bouquet sprouted from one eye- cypress, monkshood, deadly nightshade, snapdragon, oleander, statice. Lightning crackled and flashed in the other, a storm formed of hatred and revenge. Their teeth had been sharpened down to points, a growl beginning to escape from their throat. “If you are lucky, she will tell you about me. She will finally acknowledge me, and this charade will end. I will do what I must, to protect you, to protect your darling daughter, your niece, your brother-in-law… all those who do not deserve the punishment he will bring to them. If you are not… Even I cannot save you. Beware, Danika.” Placing the mask back over their face, they snapped their fingers- and Danika awoke, the sickening scent of iron mixed with flowers and dirt assaulting her.