#these are ocs for a new project tentatively named
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uuuuugh not super happy with this but i had to get through it!!!
#these are ocs for a new project tentatively named#id#might come up with a better title later#pencilcat challenge
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It's okay. (Azriel x OC)
Masterlist
Summary: After a desperate search, Azriel rescues his friend and fellow member of the Inner Circle. Their reunion prompts some revelations about their shared connection and feelings for one another.
Word Count: 2.5k
Pairing: Azriel x OC (she/her pronouns) - name not mentioned, could be read as Azriel x Reader
Warnings: description of unhealthy weight loss, description of injuries
A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve written fanfiction but I thought I’d try my hand at writing for the ACOTAR universe. This was originally a snippet of a longer project I’m working on, but I’ve changed directions. I’m open to feedback, prompts, and requests.
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Azriel hadn’t slept in days, his search for answers was growing increasingly desperate. It had been two months since she had vanished, picked off on her way back from the Steppes. He had been searching ceaselessly since then, tracking down lead after lead only to hit dead ends. Like him, his shadows were growing increasingly frantic in her absence, whipped into a constant flurry that fed his own anxieties. Finally, a breakthrough came in the form of a message from one of his contacts in the Steppes. There had been chatter about a few of the isolated camps seceding in recent years and news of a recently acquired prisoner that could give them leverage over their High Lord had spread.
He nearly ripped Rhys’s throat out when he stopped him from going directly to the camp right then and there, reminding him that storming in without a plan was likely to get them both killed. Fortunately, his brother, although far more levelheaded, was also eager to retrieve her. An extraction plan was quickly formulated along with the assault on the camp that would follow closely after. Kidnapping a member of the inner circle was an act of war and would be handled accordingly.
They met at a nearby camp that evening, gathering a platoon of loyal warriors to rain hell upon the traitors once she was brought to safety. It took all of Azriel’s self-control to wait until the dead of night to slip into the camp and let his shadows lead him to her. He found her deep within the keep, locked in a windowless cell that smelled of rot and decay. Azriel didn’t pause to evaluate her injuries, unwilling to test his restraint so far behind enemy lines. Instead, he rushed forward, gripping her upper arms with his calloused hands, and pulled them both through the shadows.
They reappeared in a tent on the outskirts of the settlement where Rhysand, Cassian, and their warriors were staged. He dropped his grip on her arms and tried to calm the pounding of his heart. His shadows whirled at their feet merrily, winding around both of their ankles as if they, too, needed assurance that she had been retrieved. She had always been their favorite, though Azriel dared not tell her that. When she was around, he had to keep them on a tight leash, reigning them in so they wouldn’t curl around her as if she, too, was their master. He feared that their affection for her would someday betray his own feelings, the ones he buried deep for fear of ruining the fragile companionship the pair had formed.
“Are you okay?” He almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. Instead, a strangled cry passed his lips, not unlike a wounded animal. Still, she stared at him with shining eyes, searching his face for signs of damage before taking stock of the rest of his body. His shaking hands hovered over her arms as if they might shatter her. The scene before Azriel was plucked from his most recent nightmares, the ones that he awoke from heaving and sweating. She was thin, thinner than anyone he’d ever seen. Not even Feyre had been so emaciated when she arrived in Velaris, perhaps not even when her family had neared starvation. Her cheekbones, once rounded and flushed with life, looked sharp enough to puncture through the sallow, delicate skin stretched over top. Her lips were bloodless, taking on a blueish hue to match her grey complexion. Both of her eyes were marred with burst blood vessels, the red stains contrasting with her bright irises. Her left eye was blackened with purple, blue, and green blotches that trailed along her cheekbone and into her hairline. It was swollen but she could open it. It had been a few days since it happened.
He couldn’t have guessed how long they stood there, gazing at one another with twin expressions of terror and relief. The stillness was broken after a moment when she leaped, closing the gap between them, and wrapping her arms around his neck. He caught her on instinct, arms tightening even further when her face found the crook of his neck. He shuttered, his chest shaking beneath her, and it took him a moment to register he was crying, no sobbing.
Mate. His shadows sang, lighter and softer than he had ever heard them. Mate. They chanted, encasing the embracing pair. Mate. They growled now, taking stock of her condition, as if, like him, they had forgotten the circumstances of this reunion for a moment.
All at once, his composure was shattered. Relief, guilt, grief, and icy rage washed over him, threatening to drown him in their onslaught. Azriel prided himself on his unshakable disposition, his ability to remain calm in a storm of chaos. Yet, as he clutched her too-small frame as tight as he dared, willing himself not to crush her, he was shaken to his very core.
Later, he would be thankful for the privacy his shadows provided them. Cloaked in sheer darkness, the world around them had faded out, allowing for a brief moment of peace as their world shattered and reformed. After some time, he felt her grip around his neck slacken and was pulled from his stupor, the Spymaster in him reawakened. Graceful as ever, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her so that her head remained undisturbed, nestled beneath his chin. She was drifting in that hazy twilight of half-sleep and half-waking, drawing long, steady breaths that tickled his neck.
Faintly, he was aware of another presence in the tent, his High Lord at his flank, regarding him with caution. Waiting for you to snap, his shadows provided their own insight. But now was not the time for that, not when the foundation of his entire universe had shifted so dramatically. Not when he held an extension of his soul, his mate, broken in his arms. The fury that lived beneath his skin, always leashed but consuming once released, would have to be reined in and tucked away for later use. It did not serve them now.
He turned then, wordlessly gliding past his High Lord, his usual frigid countenance returning. Rhys, to his credit, yielded, stepping out of his path, and watching him turn to smoke without a word of protest. Whether he sensed the snap of the bond or read his brother’s body language, he knew better than to interfere with Azriel’s mission.
It wasn’t until they arrived at the House of the Wind, deep within the safety of the city, that he allowed himself to take further stock of her state. She was light, far, far too delicate in his arms.
He breathed in, seeking out the soothing smell of honey, lavender, and clove that used to center him. Instead, the heavy, metallic scent of blood, tears, filth, and terror coated his tongue, suffocating her sweet scent. Later, the smell, acrid and stinging, would return to him in his dreams, smothering him until he could hardly recall what she was supposed to smell like. Few things made Azriel’s stomach turn, but when that dream came, when he woke gasping, the phantom stench lingering in his memory, he would find himself hunched in the bathing room, heaving his dinner.
“Azriel.” Several voices were calling his name, pleading for his attention, but only one pulled him from his ruminations. “It’s okay.”
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OC POV
“It’s okay,” I whispered, a reassurance meant only for his ears. To an outsider, he remained relatively poised, his handsome features portraying only a hint of distress. Our bond, newly forged and alight with the intensity of our reunion, however, pulsed with despair. His dread traveled down the golden thread, settling into my chest as if it were my own. Others were approaching us, their voices laden with concern, but he remained frozen, looking at me without seeing me. I tried again, “Azriel,” I called, trying to sound self-assured, “it’s okay. Everything is okay.”
That seemed to stir him, and he was moving again, shouting for someone to fetch a healer. My head was still spinning, the vertigo exacerbated by our swift journey in the shadows, and I swallowed down nausea, shutting my eyes. Despite the ache in my neck and head, despite the anxiety rolling off my mate, I was overcome with a feeling of relief. I allowed myself to drift, vaguely aware of several sets of gentle hands on my body, prodding at my injuries. The exhaustion of the day’s events settled into my bones, and I faded, the warmth of the bond guiding me into a dreamless sleep.
Golden light filtered through glass doors to my right, casting a soft glow on the slumbering figure at my bedside. I studied his face as I recalled the previous day’s events, matching my breathing to his own, steady pattern. I was in the House of Wind, that much was clear, but the bed where I lay was far larger than my own, designed to accommodate a pair of wings. Despite the expanse of free space at my side, he was perched in a plush velvet chair pulled from across the room. I was contemplating how to rise from bed without disturbing his peaceful rest when the door behind him creaked open and he startled, jumping from his seat and whirling around on the intruder in one fluid motion. His wings flared, blocking my view of the visitor, but after a moment, they were tucked in again, revealing the face of our High Lady.
Feyre made a valiant effort to conceal her amusement as she stepped in, placing a tray of food on the bench at the foot of the bed. “Good morning,” I croaked, my voice gravely from disuse. Azriel whirled around once again, the intensity from the previous night returning to his eyes.
“It’s actually almost sunset,” Feyre corrected me. Nearly an entire day lost, then. “How are you feeling?”
My eyes stayed trained on his as I answered her, the rasp leaving my voice as I spoke. “Pretty good, actually. Madja did a good job.” I still ached, there was no denying that and my body felt heavy as if an invisible force was pressing it into the mattress, but the sharp, searing pain that had accompanied my every breath as of late was gone.
“I’m glad,” When I finally tore my gaze away from his and looked at Feyre, I could have sworn moisture gathering in her eyes. “We’re glad to have you back.” She gave a pointed look to Azriel who remained frozen at the edge of my bed. “I’ll leave you two, but shout if you need anything,” Azriel said nothing and I gave her a grateful smile before she slipped out the door.
“Sit,” I tried to sound nonchalant when my eyes found his again. Unlike the night before, when the bond was brand new and ripped wide open, I could sense restraint on the other end. He swallowed thickly and sank back into the chair. “Are you okay?”
He let out a bark of surprise, almost a laugh, and looked almost angry when he replied, “You’re asking me if I’m okay? You asked me that last night too. I’m not the one who…” His voice cut off and he looked down, his stare settling on his hands, clasped in front of him. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” It was my turn to stare at him, utterly perplexed. “What do you have to be sorry for? You brought me home.” He swallowed thickly and leaned back, his gaze settling on our intertwined hands.
“I failed you,” his voice was rough, and he kept his head bowed. A heavy feeling settled in my chest, and I couldn’t decide if it was his or my own. “I didn’t keep you safe and then I took so fucking long to find you and…”. He moved to draw his hand away and I tightened my grip, ghosting my thumb over the cool, scarred flesh. “And then you get stuck with me as a mate.” His voice broke and I felt a tear slip down my cheek.
“You saved me, Azriel. It’s okay.” I knew he struggled with feelings of inadequacy. He kept his mask firmly in place most of the time, but I could see the deep-rooted insecurities born from the brutality of his upbringing. The spymaster held himself to a high standard in all regards and failures of any sort ate at him endlessly. There were many times over the years where I had wished to erase that pain in my magnificent shadowsinger, but now more than ever my heart ached as watched him stew in his guilt, that infamous, icy rage turned inwards. Desperate to interrupt his spiral of self-doubt, I reached out to the bond that hummed between us and gave an experimental tug. His head snapped up and he stared at me, vulnerability as I had never seen shining in his eyes. This went deeper than one failed mission and I needed to choose my words carefully.
“I knew you’d come,” I said after a moment, reaching out to cup his cheek with the hand not gripping his. “I wasn’t scared, at least not most of the time, because I knew you would come for me.” I reached within myself, for the affection and warmth I had harbored for him for so long, and pushed it outward, willing it to him. “If anything, I was scared that something would happen to you. That you would get hurt rescuing me from my mistake. But you pulled it off, of course.” Silver lined his blazing hazel eyes, but he didn’t look away as I continued. “You saved me, just like I knew you would. Because you’re the Spymaster of the Night Court. Because you’re the Shadowsinger. Because you’re Azriel. Brave, cunning, magnificent, kind Azriel, and I am lucky to have you as my mate.”
I wasn’t sure if I hugged him or he hugged me, but I was in his arms in an instant, his face buried in the crook of my neck. We sat like that for a long time, neither of us breaking the silence. It was Azriel who spoke, his head still bowed to rest on my shoulder, which was now damp. “I love you.” I resisted the urge to sob as he pulled back, taking my face in between his rough hands. “I have for a long time, and I will never fail you like that again. I promise.”
I rested my forehead against his, listening to the thundering of his heart for a few, blissful seconds before I made my reply. “I love you too, mate.”
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Likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated. Please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from my tag list for future fics. Click here to check out my other work.
#Azriel x Reader#Azriel x You#Azriel Fanfic#Azriel Fanfiction#Azriel#Azriel Shadowsinger#Azriel Imagine ACOTAR x Reader#ACOTAR x You#ACOTAR Fanfic#ACOTAR Fanfiction#ACOTAR#ACOTAR Imagine#my stuff#ff
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Captive Part 1
Sihtric x OC
Authors note: This is my first ever try in writing fics. I am totally hooked by the character of Sihtric from TLK, so I just couldn't resist. English is my fourth language, so please bear with me.
Summary: Sihtric is sent to Heasten’s camp to spy and discovers the Danes have a captive – young Saxon girl he just can’t leave to her fate.
Word Count: 2,449
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
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Sihtric moved stealthily through the dense forest, his senses on high alert. Haesten’s camp was near, he could already hear distant murmur of voices. The scouts had told Uthred that there must be some five hundred warriors in the camp. The first time they reported on the camp was a week ago and since then the Danes hadn’t moved on. It was weird. What was Haesten doing here, if he were supposed to be marching to Lundene to join Ragnalls forces?
“Sihtric, you are the only one Haesten hasn’t met. He will not recognise you as my man,” Uhtred had said last night. “I want to know where they are going and why they are here.”
Sihtric crouched through the darkness with utmost caution, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. Carefully, Sihtric studied the layout of the camp, searching for a gap in the sentries' coverage. After a while he noticed a cluster of tents placed at the very edge of the camp, too close to the trees, casting deep shadows that could provide him with the cover he needed. He crept silently, his figure blending seamlessly into the darkness.
Using the tents as a shield, Sihtric manoeuvred past the sentries, oblivious to his presence. Each step was calculated, his movements a delicate dance of agility and precision. The adrenaline surged through his veins, heightening his senses, and sharpening his focus.
Once safely within the camp's boundaries, Sihtric sought out a nearby campfire, its flickering flames casting glow on the faces of the warriors gathered around it. He spotted a sturdy warrior with his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. Sihtric approached, his voice carrying a sense of familiarity.
"Cnut!" Sihtric called out, his tone projecting a mix of excitement and recognition.
Startled, the warrior turned towards Sihtric, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "Do I know you?"
Sihtric's heart raced. Gathering his composure, he quickly responded, "Apologies, friend. I mistook you for my cousin Cnut. My mistake."
Warrior’s suspicion softened, replaced by curiosity. Gesturing towards the campfire, he invited Sihtric to join them. "No harm done. I am Sigurd. Sit, warm yourself by the fire. And you are?"
“I am Erik. Erik Ragnarsson,” Sihtric answered giving the first name that came into his mind and accepted the offer, positioning himself beside the warrior he had chosen to engage in conversation.
Sihtric cleared his throat and leaned in slightly, adopting an air of frustration. "We've been stuck in this camp for a whole week now. It's becoming rather tedious. We've been waiting for something to happen, but nothing seems to be going on. "
The warrior regarded him with a mix of sympathy and amusement. " I can understand your frustration, my friend. It's not easy to be stuck in one place, waiting for something to happen. But it won’t be long anymore. The ransom will soon be underway."
Sihtric's heart skipped a beat. He had stumbled upon a piece of vital information. “So, there is a prisoner in the camp,” Sihtric thought to himself. He raised an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "Is it? That’s good news! I already started to think there will be no ransom at the end and we are just wasting our time.”
Sigurd glanced at him, his expression guarded. "The negotiations are near completion. It could be a matter of days, perhaps even less."
Sihtric nodded, his mind racing with possibilities. This of course explained why Haesten was lingering in the woods. The prisoner was supposed to be somebody of a great value and importance if it was worth to wait for the ransom instead of marching to Lundene. He needed to find out more although it was clear that each minute, he stayed in the camp increased the possibility of being recognised as not belonging here. Sihtric searched for a way to come up with a believable excuse to retrieve himself from the fire. Before he could come up with something, Sigurd, sensing the restlessness in Sihtric's demeanor, began to speak again.
"You know, " he said, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "That bitch is quite the beauty."
Sihtric's almost chocked with astonishment, his interest piqued. He masked his surprise and leaned closer, feigning casual curiosity. "Is that so? Tell me more."
A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of Sigurd’s lips. "She is the daughter of Ethelred the most powerful ealdorman of Mercia. He'll pay a hefty price for her safe return." Sigurd was unwittingly revealing crucial pieces of information, Sihtric did not even dare to ask in order not to provoke unnecessary suspicions.
The realization hit him like a thunderbolt – the tents he used as a cover to enter the camp. The captive girl must be held there, that’s why they were set apart from the others. Sihtric's mind whirled with a mix of concern and determination, he rose from his seat, yawned, and stretched himself.
“I’ll be going to have some sleep. I bet I will be sent hunting at dawn again. If we stay here longer, soon there will be no pray left in these woods,” with a parting nod, he excused himself from the fire and started to walk towards the middle of the camp. Sihtric's mind raced with plans, weighing the risks, and assessing the best course of action. On one hand, the opportunity to locate the captive girl and assess her condition was tempting. On the other hand, the urgency to pass the valuable information he had gathered to Uhtred loomed large in his mind.
“This is madness, don’t even think about it,” he chided himself, “You can’t rescue her now. Uhtreds camp is at least a two day’s walk from here. They will discover her missing in the morning and will chase you both. She will slow you down and you will stand no chance against the pursuers.”
With a resolute determination, Sihtric made up his mind and turned ready to disappear into the night. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of remorse for not directly intervening in the girl's plight, but there was nothing he could do about her right now.
Sihtric stopped as something caught his attention. A faint whimpering sound came from the larger tent and stirred a mixture of concern and curiosity in him. The girl's cries tugged at his mind. A distant memory came to him. He was just a fourteen-year-old lad at his father’s fortress in Dunholm. He had a friend – a girl of the same age as him, a kitchen slave. They used to hide themselves in the old unused stables and share leftovers she would bring from the kitchen. That one evening he had hidden himself to escape the beating for forgetting to tend to his brothers Sven’s horse. He remembered the whimpering sound coming from the small house near the stables. He casted a glimpse through the window and saw the girl curled on the bed and crying. She was terrified with her arms wrapped around her knees and her eyes fixed on the man standing before her and undoing his breeches. Sihtric remembered the feeling of being helpless. He wanted to do something, anything… to distract the man, to call for help. But what help… Who would care of a warrior raping a kitchen slave. He risked of being whipped and laughed at. He was useless and helpless, and he could do nothing to help her. And so, he did nothing, he crouched back in the corner of the stables and then just ran away. He never saw the girl again. He waited for her the next day in their favourite hiding place, but she never came. He looked for her in the kitchen, but she was not there anymore and when he asked the other slaves nobody could tell him anything about her.
Sihtric shook his head as if trying to drive away the sudden memory, but he already knew that there was no way he could leave this girl in the camp and run away again. He headed towards the tent the sound came from. Sigurd and the other warriors that were obviously supposed to guard the tent were still sitting at the fireplace and talking. Sihtric cautiously approached the tent, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and concern. Carefully parting the tent side flaps, he entered the dimly lit space and his eyes fell upon the young Saxon girl sitting on the floor in the corner, tears running down her cheeks. The soft glow of a few candles illuminated her delicate features. Her eyes, vibrant and full of strange mix of resilience, strength and fear, met his gaze. Her hands were tied together in front of her. For a moment, Sihtric was struck speechless, his breath caught in his throat. Her beauty was breath-taking, captivating him in a way he had never experienced before. It was as if time stood still, the world around them fading into insignificance.
Her dark locks cascaded around her shoulders, framing a face that held both innocence and strength. Her skin, smooth and flawless, seemed to radiate with a gentle warmth. Sihtric found himself drawn to every subtle curve and contour, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of her form.
But as much as her physical beauty enraptured him, it was her spirit that truly captivated his heart. There was a fire within her, a spark of defiance that burned brightly in her eyes. Regaining his composure, Sihtric stepped forward, "Stay calm," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm not your enemy. I have come to bring you to safety," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and determination.
Sihtric's heart sank as he noticed the flicker of fear and doubt in the captive girl's eyes. He understood her hesitance. Gently, Sihtric reached out a hand, his voice filled with sincerity. "I understand you don’t believe me. But I give you my word, I am not here to harm you. I am here to offer you a chance at freedom, to return you to your people, and ensure your safety."
The girl's gaze wavered, torn between the hope of liberation and the fear of betrayal. Her voice quivered with uncertainty as she spoke, her vulnerability laid bare. "You are a Dane. Why would I trust you? How do I know you're not like the others, playing tricks and false promises?"
Sihtric's eyes met hers, his voice steady and earnest. "I cannot erase the pain you've endured, nor can I erase the actions of those who have wronged you. But I offer you my loyalty, and my commitment to bring you to safety. Have you heard of Lord Uhtred?" The surprise on the girl's face was evident when she heard the name of Uhtred, but she nodded.
“I am Sihtric and I am lord Uhtred’s man. He sent me to spy on the Danes. I did not know you were here, but now that I do, I will not leave you,” Sihtric kept looking in the girls’ eyes, hoping his earnest answers will reassure her.
He took a step closer, closing the distance between them, his voice filled with empathy. "I understand your hesitation, but I ask you to trust in the sincerity of my words. I am not here to deceive you." He pulled out his hunting knife fastened on his back and saw the girls’ eyes widen in sudden urge of fear. She was evidently about to scream, so he had to be quick. He leaped to her and pushed his free hand on her mouth, silencing her and slit the rope freeing her hands.
The girl's gaze softened, her guarded expression slowly giving way to a glimmer of hope. She searched his eyes for any sign of deception, her vulnerability cautiously extending towards him.
"Promise me, you will not scream," he whispered in her ear. “If you do, we are both doomed.”
The girl nodded and Sihtric took his hand from her lips.
“Promise me, “her voice laced with a fragile mixture of fear and longing. "Promise me that you will protect me, that you will not lead me into further harm."
Sihtric's voice held unwavering conviction as he made his pledge. "I swear on my life that I will protect you, that I will do everything within my power to keep you safe. "
A flicker of trust kindled within the girl's eyes, a glint of belief in the possibility of an escape. Sihtric stepped back and extended his hand and saw the faintest touch of a smile gracing her lips. Hesitantly she reached out, her fingers intertwining with his and Sihtric helped her to her feet. In that moment, an unspoken connection formed between them, a silent promise of protection and liberation. It was a fragile bond and Sihtric couldn’t help himself but to awe at the girl’s courage to accept and believe in his promise.
Sihtric smiled reassuringly and took her hand firmly in his, determined to show her that his words were not empty promises but a genuine commitment. He pushed up the back wall of the tent and together, they crouched out. It took just a few steps to reach the nearby trees, so Sihtric guided the captive girl towards them, their movements silent and purposeful. Every step was measured, his senses attuned to any potential danger that lurked in the surrounding darkness. Sihtric looked at the girl beside him and knew that both her beauty and courage had stirred his soul in a way no one has ever managed before.
As they ventured deeper into the woods, Sihtric maintained a careful pace, mindful of the girl's endurance and the need to remain undetected. The trees provided them with cover, their branches reaching out like protective arms, shielding them from prying eyes. The captive girl followed Sihtric's lead, her steps hesitant at first, but growing more assured with each passing moment.
Sihtric's senses remained alert, his eyes scanning their surroundings for any signs of pursuit or danger. He knew that they were not yet out of harm's way, that the Danes could discover their escape at any moment. He stole a glance at the girl walking beside him. Her face, though still marked by traces of fear, now held a glimmer of hope and determination.
"I promise you, we are making progress," Sihtric whispered, his voice carrying reassurance. "We are leaving that camp behind, and soon you will be free." The girl's eyes met his, gratitude and vulnerability intertwined within her gaze. She nodded silently. As they ventured further into the forest, the girl's grip on his hand tightened. It was a silent plea for reassurance and Sihtric squeezed her hand in response, silently vowing to protect her.
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OC vs Cockroach
@thepeculiarbird sent me this one - thank you! go see how her OCs deal with this disaster here. passing along the tag to @finchwrites, @indecentpause, @space-writes, @notwritinganyflufftoday, and @dyrewrites, plus an open tag for anyone who wants to torment their characters with household pests 😈
Rules: rank your OCs based on how well they would do with a cockroach
have a grab bag of OCs from various projects, ranked from high to low in order of competency (plus, the tumblr debut of Jules, V, and Jacqui from my new, very-tentatively-named WIP: You Up?):
Jacqui: Catches it in a tupperware and takes it outside. Then throws away the tupperware, washes and sanitizes her hands, and performs a ritual to magically bug-proof the building for the next month. 12/10 for preventative measures.
Mina: Throws a shoe across the room at it. Nails it in one hit. 10/10. FATALITY.
Jules: Uses the double-plastic-cup method to catch the roach. Takes his new buddy on a tour of the nearby dumpsters until he finds one the bug seems excited about. Releases the bug into the alley of its choice. 10/10.
Baz: Scoops it up in his bare hands. The feeling of it skittering around kind of breaks his brain for a minute; stands there, awkwardly holding a cockroach, until someone reminds him to put it outside. 7/10 because it does end up outside eventually.
Lienzo: Pretends he doesn't see it until someone else shows up and deals with it. If he has absolutely no choice, he'll find the largest, heaviest thing he can and smash the roach. Then there's the crisis of how he's going to clean it up. 5/10.
V: Jacqui says they're not allowed to use alchemical bombs on household pests anymore. So they grab the lighter and hairspray. 3/10.
Phi: Makes scathing comments in the roach's general direction until it gets the hint and leaves. This doesn't work very well. 2/10.
Qedlan: Looks up the correct way to deal with cockroaches. This takes long enough that he loses sight of the bug. He can't find it again. He lives in fear for the next week. 1/10.
Ari: Calls Mina to come kill it for her. When Mina inevitably refuses, she resigns herself to living with it. She names it Roachfort. It lives in the corner with Spedro (the spider she couldn't kill last week). 0/10.
#writeblr tag games#oc vs cockroach#writeblr#the art of empty space#ambition is a lonely tower#you up?
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꧁༺Blue's Garden ༻꧂
welcome to my garden - a complete guide of my growing creative works, all g/t! i don't do vore and i don't do nsfw 'cause i'm all about that fluff and angst, baybee!!
(creative priority is basically whichever concept/fic i am more interested in as i am riddled with adhd and don't know how to juggle projects)
❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀ 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀
AO3:
Itty Bitty Brains, an iZombie g/t fic about a borrower named Atom who moves into the morgue. He becomes besties-maybe-more with Ravi while navigating the difficulties of being tiny in a giant, undead world. Fluff and angst! With drama and a slow burn romance on the side.
Nine, a Sense8 g/t fic about a borrower named Clover who is part of the main cluster and the sensates experience the world in a way that is completely new and fascinating to all of them. Drama with a serving of wacky perspective shenanigans, hurt/comfort, and found family.
Roommate, a Daredevil g/t fic that focuses on Finch - a borrower who moved into Matt's apartment - and Matt trying to coexist and all the trials and tribulations that follow. Hesitant roommates become tentative friends as Finch pretends they don't give a damn about a human and Matt's desire to protect who he can slowly turns him into a mother hen. Angst, dry humour, reluctant (platonic) bonding, and some trauma sprinkled on top.
TUMBLR:
Itty Bitty Brains || latest chapter (3) || chapter 4 snippet
Roommate || latest chapter (2) || in the cupboard (matt's pov) || the last straw || what is the horned figure? || long-ass post about matt feeling protective of finch || the glue trap
❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀ 𝐀𝐫𝐭 ❀ꗥ～ꗥ❀
Itty Bitty Brains: Atom (old) || Atom, meet glass cup || doctor's little confidants (old) || Cav
Roommate: Goldfinch || terms and conditions
Hazbin Hotel: batsy oc sketches (batsy sketches the squeakuel) || catch her in the rye
#masterlist#g/t#giant/tiny#giant tiny#the borrowers#izombie#sense8#daredevil#izombie g/t#sense8 g/t#daredevil g/t#marvel g/t#borrowers#writing#art#g/t community#sfw g/t#g/t writing#borrower#g/t art#goldfinch (oc)#itty bitty brains fic
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(Milgram self-insert oc masterpost hehe)
Name: For the sake of posting online I’ll call her Rose!
Color: #E7355B [the pink in the art]
Age: I guess she’d be 20 given when Milgram started huh.
Status: Milgram Staff, Machine Technician
Symbols/imagery: ballet/musical theater, science experiments
Song genre: very similar to Mahiru's, something upbeat and extra pop-y
Tentatively she's number 011? She's not really prisoner but she's also not free to come and go, so I'm not actually sure if she'd get a number (Edit: I've decided she'll actually be 012. Staff is given the 01X range, and even though Es doesn't actively have a number they'd be staff member 011, making her 012.)
Story: Since the project is supposed to be realistic/present day, the mv machine would be brand new and unpredictable tech, so they’d want someone keeping up on maintenance and making sure the brain-invasive process won’t cause any harm to the prisoners. Rose was studying abroad in Japan working on some cool neuroscience tech (irl I know nothing about technology or brains but shh) and she stumbled upon some secret tech/plans from Milgram. Long story short, she was dragged into the experiment to make sure things ran smoothly.
Writer's Reasoning: She’s really fun for me to play around with, as she allows me to work with a character who has a tiny bit of pull over Es’ mindset in conversation but not the final decision (aka mirroring the voting system), and someone who is simultaneously trapped in the prison but has a reason to see all the canon content.* I really enjoy the character interactions and dynamics Milgram has set up so far, so it’s been super fun seeing how things change for better and worse when someone not quite aligned with either Milgram/the prisoners is thrown into the mix!
*As much as I love dramatic irony in fiction, it would drive me crazy if I knew every detail of of the vds/mvs but Rose didn't – and every single Milgram character is The Worst Communicator Ever so I couldn’t justify that she’d hear it secondhand from them...
Story roles:
She’s a bit conflicted -- she’s officially Milgram staff and knows she should remain neutral on the prisoners, since she won’t be allowed to interfere with the process/executions. At the same time, her job description is literally “make sure the machine doesn't hurt them and everyone's safe :)” and she's way too emotional to avoid getting hopelessly attached to everyone 😅
I really enjoy the theory that the machine extracts videos based off of priming, so one of Rose’s duties involves listening in on the interrogation and making sure there’s been enough material discussed/not too much time has passed overall (hence the ringing of the bell happening at different lengths for each vd -- That's her ringing it :3). She then watches the mvs along with Es to make sure there are no machine glitches, and know how to calibrate it better for next time.
(IEdit: I've since decided to add in official trial mvs, but before when I wasn't ready to tackle that:) She has to run some tests on the machine to make sure things are calibrated correctly, so she'd extract little things here and there. It gives me the opportunity to think up lyric snippets and recurring symbols for her without worrying about full encompassing music videos.
I'm not afraid to admit she can fall into Mary Sue territory every so often by being everyone's friend, because it's less about "aw everyone likes her" and more about "canon is too painful rn and I need a fix-it tool to take care of these guys and give them hugs and tell them someone forgives them and cares about them and unfortunately these characters wouldn't let anyone less than a friend do that." Rest assured she's definitely not perfect and will fuck everything up on occasion :3
Miscellaneous: Whenever I play around with normal au ideas she's still working on the machine (but in a public, more ethical setting), and she's Mahiru's roommate :) Her character isn't super focused on love, but if I had to pick a cover song it'd be Stickybug II. It's very much my vibe, the lyrics fit well enough (better than most songs, at least lol) and it's one of my favorites out of my limited knowledge of unchosen Deco songs! (Edit, I've actually given her non-deco cover songs hehe)
So yeah, I hope she's not too boring without a cool crime to decipher, but I wanted to share since I was really proud of her! It took a bit of tinkering to find a way to fit her into a perfect secret-third-thing role that runs very smoothly with all of canon, so I was very excited!
#waaahh posting before i chicken out#I've never posted about a self-insert so please be kind lmao 😅#i dont expect a ton of hype for her but if people have questions im always down to talk about her hehe#this is my only art -- i rarely draw oc stuff but i was really happy with how this came out#i definitely dont think shed get a number or those side rune straps by canon standards but the art wouldnt look right without them#im mad that the lab coat and gloves make her look a bit like shidous design :/ i definitely wanted more scientist vibes than doctor#dw she wears her PPE when she works on the machine 😤#yeah yeah theres some shipping aspects sue me -- but genuinely its mostly for fun character studying and fix-its#mkdr and neoneon also hold a special place in my heart but i didnt want to double up on covers#im so sad because she just. doesnt fit into LCSyS#the machine is fake in the au so shed have no opportunity to join the experiment#plus even if i made her generic staff shed just be on the receiving end of the lie with es... which is just canon until the very end adfsdf#WOO huge thank you to kyanako5972 and purgemarchlockdown for enabling me to be annoying once again >:3#and thank you gunsli!! our chat was the first time i ever talked about her and it really gave me a lot of confidence :')#not maintagging but i will edit for organizational tags later#i also may put this on my writing blog at some point but we'll see#my art#rose posts#ocgram#milgram
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Are we lucky enough to hear about one of those OCs?
This one's a little against the premise, but I've got a pretty neat Legacy: Life Among The Ruins campaign going, tentatively named "Ragnarok Circlejerk", and I'll tell you the tale of my gal, a funky little critter named Yai-Isa-Nim.
I think she counts as a blorbo from my brain.
She's a nasty eldritch abomination called a Neth. The setting's post-apocalyptic and society ended as a result of an eldritch convergence humanity has interpreted as "Ragnarok", or simply the Fall. A horrible, branched entity-- the Wyrdtree breached into Earth, carrying with it a chaotic energy called Wyrd, which turned Earth into a nightmarish wasteland. Neth are mutated humans capable of thriving in the shattered landscape.
Their phenotype sorta looks like they've been hybridized with a reptile and some kind of eldritch insect-- resinous scales, prehensile tails, shining pink eyes with slit pupils, slime-dripping claws and digitgrade legs. They communicate with each other in clicks and trills.
Oh! They also purr.
Neth resemble no known animal, but instead are a kind of fully-realized genetic optimization project, a gestalt of numerous adaptations and runaway mutations. They can trace their origin to a genetic program run out of a Neo-Soviet gulag ,created in a prescient attempt to devise a labor force that would survive the coming Fall.
Horrifically, they succeeded: the Neth were left alone amid the chaos, and are now thriving: breeding teeming hives and lurking in the dark places beyond humanity's dwindling firelight.
Neth live underground in eusocial societies lead by a Tyrant-- Tyrants command the drudges, control the incubators and produce pheromones that give them some enhanced sway over other Neth. It's not quite mind control, more an animal magnetism that has to be accompanied with savvy rulership. Neth will rebel against an incompetent Tyrant, as we'll see with Yai.
Tyrants war with each other, and atrocity is a way of life-- cannibalism, slavery, and zero-sum wars of extermination are everyday occurrences. That said, the cruelty's not inborn but learned: the Neth are simply iterating on the brutal life their ancestors lived in the gulag.
While Neth have all the equipment to make babies the old fashioned way, they almost exclusively reproduce via incubation pods which turn humans into Neth, and dead matter into symbiotic "drudges", adorable little bipedal isopod-lookin fuckers, which I describe as "meat pikmin". Drudges work alongside the Neth as drones, sorta filling the slot of work animals.
For this reason, they make a habit of capturing humans (living or dead) to replenish their numbers, making them rightfully feared as enemies of civilization.
They're no drones, though: Neth all have their own personalities, and enjoy expressing their individuality and interior lives. They compulsively create art like humans do, and are particularly handy with their resin, and your average Neth is seen replete with charms, jewelry, and sculpted chitin, either homemade or sourced from skilled artisans, who're prized amongst the hive.
All that said, we can now understand our girl Yai:
Yai's a rebel tyrant, leading the newborn "Nim Hive". She staged an insurrection with her peers, and scored some royal jelly-- a genekit that promotes a garden-variety Neth to a Tyrant. Thus enhanced, she gathered her followers and drudges and bolted to found a new home.
Yai is, by Neth standards, a bleeding-heart. She likes humans, and rejects the policies of forced capture and enslavement that are common among her peers. Still, she is a Neth, and sees humans as squishy, weak, and unaccustomed to the wasteland. They're stubborn, using dated tech they plunder from the ruins, encase themselves in unreliable suits, and repeat the mistakes of the past in an attempt to cling to a way of life that has already failed.
To Yai, the logical thing would be to convert as many people as she can into Neth so they can prosper and survive in this new, strange world, but most humans aren't into it. This is where the other Tyrants would start capturing, reeducating, and converting any hominid they can catch, but since Yai's a softie, she's instead attempting to slowly forge bonds with humanity, understand their ways of living, and use Neth power to protect them.
In-game, the Neth are just one family at the table: Her bridge to connect with humanity is another player's family: a gang of kids who play a "game" that has some arcane connection to the beasts of Ragnarok, something the Isa Hive interprets as proof that humanity can adapt mentally, and adopt new techniques to exist within the wasteland, while the kids think the Neth are kinda cute and helpful. What kid doesn't want a monster pal?
These two factions exist alongside a company of the defunct Red Army, some raiders worshipping a lycanthropic mutant goddess-- a fork of the same mutagenic force that created the Neth, and the Concern, a secretive society of transnational black-ops who foretold the Fall, but were unable to stop it-- think XCOM crossed with the SCP organization. They also had a hand in making the Neth.
The factions are getting along pretty well right now-- trying to stop some bandits who fucked up a rite that called an eldritch entity, Kvasir, to bless them with sorcery. His "intoxicating blood" is presently polluting the fuck out of the homeland. Stay tuned to see how they handle that.
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Holding Out for a Hero: Part 3
I agree with the comment, the last part got very serious. I have time, here is a little Easter gift for anyone who has liked the story thus far. I've started rolling a die for characters making checks (you'll see later) and using that for writing.
This section is more about Alariel and Xenk's past, do enjoy less angst. Links to earlier parts under the cut.
Xenk X Cleric!OC
No Beta, we die like men.
______________________________________________________________
"If it makes you feel any better, both Edgin AND Doric chewed him out."
Alariel looked up to see the muscle-bound woman, Holga, standing at the entrance to her tent. It had been an hour or so since she had met the barbarian.
"I stand by what I said. I cannot travel with you, not with him. Besides, with him here you really don't need me."
"I didn't come here to ask you to help us again." Alariel looked up at her in confusion. Holga sat down beside her on the cot. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know how shitty it can be running into your ex."
"Oh." She didn't know what to say. Maybe it was because she was used to doing all of the looking after. Alariel hadn't had someone to look after her in quite some time.
"So should we be calling you Alariel or Lyra?" Holga offered her one of the rolled calligrapher's tool sets that had been set out to be placed into her bag of holding.
"Either is fine. One of the younger children had some difficulty pronouncing my name, and it sort of stuck with the people of the community. It was sweet." Her hands stilled in packing as she smoothed the leather cover of a journal.
"You don't have to leave since we showed up. Don't wanna chase you out of your home." Holga looked closer at the young woman. She appeared to be younger than her, but it was always hard to tell with elves. If this one knew Xenk, she was at least 100 years older than her.
"No, this just gives me a reason to finally move on. Like I had said, I lingered here too long anyway." She took a stack of her journals in hand and continued her packing.
"If you don't mind me asking, where will you go?"
"I've been heading to the Sword Coast for a while now. I haven't been in a city in some time, so perhaps I will make my next stop in Waterdeep before heading up to Neverwinter. I know I could spend the next century in either place and never hear the same story twice."
"It's funny you mention that..."
And that was how Alariel learned that the odd band of adventurers who were looking for her help were actually the heroes of Neverwinter. By the time Holga had finished telling her version of the story, Alariel had to set out her Orb of Light and had practically filled a scroll with the details.
"This still doesn't make sense..." Lyra's brow was furrowed. "You are still being chased by these assassins?"
"We lost them most recently around the Goldfields. I chopped one up real good and threw the parts in the river." Lyra was both disgusted and impressed at the barbarian's work.
"But why isn't Xenk just smiting them?"
"Doing what?"
"Smiting. You know, holy radiance on the blade... thundering force... banishing fiends?" Holga still gave her a blank stare.
"I mean, his sword-dagger glowed when he was fighting that assassin in the Underdark?" Alariel gave a small shake of her head. Why wasn't Xenk using his paladin abilities? A soft glow to his blade could be compelled duel, but she had seen firsthand the brilliance of his devotion. Why wouldn't he have killed them the first time? Destroying the undead was part of his mission.
"Anyway-" Alariel knew she couldn't get invested in this new mystery, no matter how much she wanted to, "I think I've kept you up late enough as is. Humans need more sleep than elves do, yes? Thank you again for letting me record your story."
"No problem. I was curious after seeing how many books you had in your tent. What the fuck is up with that?"
Lyra shook her head, and laughed at the crude language of her new friend. "No wonder you all are so confident in my abilities to defeat Thay assassins. I'm no war cleric, I am a follower of Deneir."
"The Scribe of Oghma?"
"The God of Glyphs and Images?"
Holga's eyes lit up with recognition. "The candle with the eyeball!"
Lyra deflated and looked at Holga confused and a bit concerned. "How in Oghma's name did you know that, but not his domains?"
"My ex-husband used to frequent this bookstore, and it had a little shrine in the window. I asked one day who it was for."
Not long after their discussion, Holga left to meet with the other members of her makeshift family. They had found a section of the shanty town where they were allowed to pitch a tent. While Simon, Kira, and Doric were trying to get the tent out of the opening in Simon's bag of holding, Edgin still was pacing back and forth in front of Xenk, who looked to be meditating on a bare patch of ground.
"A note!? You left her alone with a note-"
Xenk seemed to be ignoring him at this point, but Edgin had said the same speech about 9 times.
"-You were engaged! How does this not come up in conversation, I mean really you think you know a guy.-"
Holga walked up to the tent-pitching group. "Hey bug, think your old man will run out of steam any time soon?"
"I don't think so." Kira looked between the paladin and her father, "Not only did he royally embarrass himself, but with love you know he's always had this sense of self-righteous honor."
"Well I for one," Simon interrupted, "would love it if he would stop. Maybe then I could finally concentrate on getting these poles to stay up."
Doric rolled their eyes, "Sure like that's the issue."
Suddenly, Xenk turned toward the outside of the village. Standing, he drew in a deep breath. Glancing around, he drew his sword,
"They have found us."
#hofah hat 3#xenk x oc#xenk the paladin#xenk yendar#dnd hat#dnd movie#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#no beta we die like men#my oc#cleric!oc#dnd#honor among thieves#light angst
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[image description: a photograph of a wave crashing against the ocean. to the right, in a white serif font, reads “@dallonwrites” /end id]
@dallonwrites | writeblr intro
hi! my name is dallon (he/him) and i’m a 22 year old writer. i mostly write literary fiction but im trying to branch out. i like writing about complicated queerness, sibling dynamics, transmasculinity, autistic protagonists and, occasionally, zombie apocalypses
instagram: dallonwrites
twitter: dallonwrites
minors are allowed to interact if they are comfortable doing so, but i am an adult and sometimes will post adult content. i also will not interact closely if you are minor or don’t have your age in your bio (i may follow back/reblog your work, but i won’t dm and things like that). no hard feelings!
i don’t to taglists at the moment because they stress me out! sorry. sometimes i post a lot of random excerpts though
i have sideblogs so that might be why i followed you
my icon is of my ocs felix and beau and you will hear a lot about them (and their besties jolie and dorothy) :)
my published work
you can find all my published work either on my LINKTREE or HERE. check the latter out for summaries and content warnings!
my current projects
Revelations, Revelations: personal project. litfic/historical series following multiple queer characters living in san francisco in the 1980s. current focus is on twins trying to reconcile and process their childhood trauma/co-dependency when they reunite after four years apart.
Swimming Pool Prayers: tentative title for my short story collection. featuring complicated transmasculinity, fraught relationships, christian trauma and bodies of water.
Ammonites For Eyes: novel. litfic. a trans man is forced back to his coastal hometown and back into the closet after the death of his mother, and has to reckon with his fragmented identity when his half-sister looks for a new maternal figure in him.
#all i do is retitle my work and make a new writers intro and then never post on here now we try and change that!#im just trying to curate my corner at this point x i am just vibing x#also i hate the expand thing its ruining all my aesthetic posts!
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I'm having fun with a new OC! Scene meets 2014 Tumblr HAH.
Her name is Tiana (Tia) Chase! She's an incredibly curious dimension hopper who travels between dimensions both to find answers to questions she has as well as to explore and see new things.
I'm tentatively working on a project with her but it might not come to fruition so you may or may not see her much more frequently soon!
#OC#Scene#Space OC#Character Art#Original Character#UFO#Why yes those ARE Silly Bandz why do you ask
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Truth or Dare!
🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?
🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now
🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?
🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?
I'm pretty sure it was some discussion boards, yahoo groups, geocities (I had a geocities). I read TNG fanfic, much of it I was not ready for, back in the 90s. I started writing really tentative things, posted a few. Tropey, I had a lot of issues I needed to work out. It was a VERY heterosexual canon pairings kind of space.
(Beverly Crusher/Jean-Luc Picard, Deanna Troi/Will Riker and variations.).
I didn't know I was queer then. I had hints of it when I wrote queer OCs in my first epic space babyfic.
It would be like...ten years until I tried femslash main characters. I might have gotten into femslash earlier if I clicked with Janeway/Seven, but that's not my thing.
Did make a minor crisis in my own little corner of fandom when I started writing Janeway/Crusher.
🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now
I almost have the new flat arranged in a way I like, with a corner for this and a corner for that. Still need a lamp.
Work is...good? I might even get tenure. (don't know, if I don't get it this year I'll get it next year). It's going well though. I'm happy.
I've been studying financial literacy and trying to figure out how to pay things down and deal with the new things that keep popping up. (health care is hella expensive in the US and you can't plan for it, so many things are just...hope for the best! you'll have to pay 20% of this but we wont' tell you how much it costs until later.
So it's uphill, but I am making progress.
🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?
I did so much research for Uncharted, into how viruses work and how something could not cause a fever and hurt the kidney and I also needed it to effect the eyes, so that was fun. I read actual medical articles.
I did a bunch of research into fertility and really complex medical stuff for Under the Star Light too. I got a lot of it wrong, but I tried really hard.
Medical stuff seems to be when I do the most research.
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Introducing ✨XMACX Monthly✨
public posts on ptrn that'll be monthly updates on my original projects!
i want non-ptrns to be part of the fun, so cover model polls are open to all! first one drops tmrw on twt/ig/tmblr!
you can read the update on ptrn or here, below the cut!
First month of the New Year and I've got a lot of fun ideas and plans for 2024! Let's dive right in!
XMACX MONTHLY UPDATES AND "COVERS"
First off, I'm introducing XMACX MONTHLY! It'll be a public post that -- ideally -- goes out on the first of every month. It'll include the schedule and plan for the coming month along with a cover image! I really miss drawing monthly character illustrations and I thought it'd be fun to also include non-patrons in polls so here's what I was thinking:
Everyone gets a chance to vote on the cover model for next month's issue, but patrons can vote on the outfit and/or theme for the cover!
For now, the characters I'd like to focus on drawing are my OCs, so the options for cover models will be limited to my OC roster. I have so many! I'd like to shine a light on them some time... And I was thinking, since magazines typically have "cover stories", OC Lore posts can be about the cover model! What are OC Lore posts? This leads me into my next topic...
TIER CHANGES
Here's what I'll be offering for each tier:
Pineapple Slices (3 USD)
Vote in monthly theme/character outfit polls
Digital downloads - wallpaper of the monthly cover model image and/or current visual novel build
Name in credits (must be patron during release month)
WIP/Sketch Dump at the end of each month before socials
Big Juicy Pineapple (5 USD)
All previous rewards PLUS:
OC Lore posts - the "cover story". It might include a character interview or some tidbit about the cover model
Art Process - a video, maybe some thoughts and commentary
NSFW/Spicier/Alternative version of cover model image - you got to vote for their outfit, BUT now you potentially also get to see them with their clothes off LMAO
PROJECT LINE UP
Last year was a pretty busy year for me due to a lot of family stuff, work, and travel. I didn't have as many opportunities as I would have liked to draw my OCs and work on my personal projects. This year, I'll be cutting back on commissions and taking on other projects so I can focus more on my dreams of creating and sharing original stories. Here's the order in which I'd like to work on projects and a lil blurb about each:
Froot Basket: Dark Chocolate Voiced Update
Currently, I'm still working on adding the voiced lines and new artwork to Froot Basket: Dark Chocolate. Tentative release date will be some time in March for the public, some time in February for patrons.
Froot Basket White
The third and last installment of the Furuta Basketball "Froot Basket" series. It will be from Jordan's perspective and will be a direct sequel to Froot Basket Valentine. I'd like this project to be released episodically -- one new route every month or two, 7 routes total. I'm considering making it fully voiced...
Fleeting
My BL scifi horror visual novel! It follows Cadet Masa Takeshiro. It's been a while since I've worked on this project and I'd like to update the demo with everything new I've learned in the last few years. A "face lift" if you will in almost all aspects including writing and UI.
"Kaimana Comic"
It is currently unnamed but in-universe time-wise, it picks up some time after Fleeting. I don't expect to publish the comic at all this year. I'd just like to start thumbnailing it.
Other Projects
I have some other smaller projects like that Dogsitter one I was working on. I'm saving those for when I get frustrated. Those will be my "cool off" projects.
ART GOALS FOR 2024
These are my big big goals this year! If nothing else, at least these please c''':
Release updated FBDC
Begin releasing FBW
Release new Fleeting Demo
Begin thumbnailing Kaimana Comic
JANUARY 2024 SCHEDULE
Okay! That was a lot. Now here's what I have planned for January! I typically like updating every Friday.
January 5 - Character (public) and Outfit (patron) polls drop
January 12 - OC Lore post drops (BJP)
January 19 - Art Process post drops (BJP)
January 26 - New FBDC Voiced Preview! + Current visual novel build update
January 31 - Sketch Dump
Since Kai is like the default model and he's already shirtless, the Cover Story this month will be "What if Kai were a PKMN trainer?" LMAO. Prompted ONLY because I can't unassociate the backwards cap from Ash and his PKMN battles.
Wow. That was a lot. If you made it this far, thanks so much for reading! I'm excited to implement and try all these new stuff out! I hope you'll have fun with it too!
Much Aloha,
Ari
#xmacx monthly#vndev#visual novel update#devupdate#original character art#original character#oc art#oc#xmacxart#xmacxoc#kaimana
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Check-in for October 27th, 2023
I spent 3 hours straight working on a single assignment that was meant to take half as long as it did. It took all my brain power to complete it, and I couldn’t get much tangible work on personal projects done as a result. Still got some planning done for business stuff, though. And I’ve been gathering inspiration and references for my dating sim / visual novel project.
The visual novel doesn’t have a premise yet, but I’m building up some creative guidelines to help me generate ideas. I also am planning out some scope limits to keep the size manageable. With NaNoRenO coming up in March, I’m hoping to get all the prep work done at a leisurely but consistent pace over the next few months, then finish up the project over the course of March. That’s very wishful thinking, but you know what they say: “A goal without a plan is just a wish.” And if my wishing and daydreaming about goals is given the planned-out structure of a checklist and schedule, I can maybe, possibly, hypothetically complete this game.
I still need to think of a premise, though, so I better get cracking on that.
I’ve had a few ideas for visuals styles— like making scrapbook-y visuals with collages, journaling ephemera, and paper textures scanned in from real life, combined with actual photos for backgrounds. I’ve also had ideas for atmospheric flair, like typewriter noises playing whenever characters “speak.” Not sure if any of these would appear in my final product when I don't know what the story would even be, but I am very excited either way!
After doing some research on different visual novels, both ones I've played and ones that I've wishlisted or thought looked cool, I've tentatively decided I want to make a wackier sort of visual novel--- one that would preferably be a dating sim of some kind, but I'm not picky. I once drafted the ground work of a cryptid dating sim as a teenager where romance-able options included an angsty gray alien, a spoiled rich boy lizardman, a reverse-spiderman situation heroic vigilante mothman, and an eldritch god named Paul. That project is definitely too big for me to make with my current skillset and patience, so I can't take it on as a project quite yet--- but I can dream.
I'm tempted to make a dating sim based on some OCs in a setting I mentioned previously that is populated by bug people, but that's pretty niche, and I'm honestly not too sure if there's an audience for that sort of thing--- especially if it's essentially an extended inside joke with myself. Even so, I am tempted. So very, very tempted.
One day I will make finalized art of these characters, and everyone will know why they're peak examples of blorbohood.
That being said, I have other ideas that could be adapted to a visual novel or dating sim. One of them involves a tech enthusiast whose computer gets possessed by a malware demon, another details the player going on a blind date with a stereotypical "Hero of Prophecy" fantasy character, and another one is a playable bedtime story. I'll spend some time going through the archives of concepts and try brainstorming some new ones. Still going to need to take it easy for a while--- I've got a busy month coming up with NaNoWriMo, and I don't intend to burn out ahead of that--- but I'll be working on the concepts and required research at a gentle pace!
Seriously, though, fingers crossed on the possibly-completing-a-game thing! I finished a pilot / minimum viable product of an RPG titled Momther a while back and it made me realize I had the chops to actually enjoy game dev as a hobby--- I just have to stay focused and committed, ADHD be darned. If I manage my health well, both mental and physical, that should be nice and doable. I got this!!! Kinda!!! Hopefully!!!
Sincerely,
Sofie
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i saw your post on reddit. the new story is very good. do you plan on writing anything else in the got fandom?
ITW is my main project right now. Once I complete that fic, I'll start working on my abuse!route fic—but I do have four active WIPs for ASOIAF. I've gotten a lot of good feedback on my latest Sansa piece, so I think I'll do more ghost!au fics with different protags.
Below are my ASOIAF WIPs—please keep in mind that all the titles and summaries are tentative.
Title: You Are Someone Else (I Am Still Right Here)
Summary:
“The first night he wakes to Tysha standing over him—head tilted unnaturally to the left, blinking down at him with haunting blue eyes—he empties his stomach.”
(Or that one where Jaime Lannister can see the ghosts of dead maidens.)
Notes: This is the "Jaime prays to the Maiden and can see ghosts" companion to my Sansa fic. They aren't in the same verse—just similar concepts I'm going to consolidate into a series.
Title: The Violence (Becomes You)
Summary:
Maenaera Belaeyrs was many things: a dragonlord of old, a dream walker, a blood mage—but she is also Shaera Targaryen.
(Or, a dragon rider from Old Valyria is reborn as the eldest daughter of Aegon V.)
Notes: Everyone else in the fandom has an OC WIP, so I was starting to feel left out. There aren't enough unhinged/evil protagonists, and I love Aegon V's era. I plan on this one to be a long fic.
Title: I See It (I Take It)
Summary:
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. And there she is again, and again, and again, and again.
(In an ideal world the version of Sansa trapped in a time loop would be self-reliant, confident, and a fully realized queen dropped into her childhood with all the foreknowledge needed to fix the future with ease. This is not that world.)
Notes: I just think timeloop fics and Sansa are both separately neat—so obviously both together would be doubly neat.
Title: I Got a Name (And I Carry It With Me Like My Daddy Did)
Summary:
"At the end of all things, Sansa stands at the edge of Winterfell and remembers when the world was a song."
In one universe, Sansa Stark dies as the eldest daughter of Catelyn and Eddard Stark. In another, Minisa's eldest son survives the cradle. These things are not mutually exclusive.
(Alternatively, that fic where Sansa is reborn as Elston Tully sixteen years before Robert's Rebellion.)
Notes: I really enjoy transmigration/isekai fics where the protag gets dropped into the opposite gender. I think it results in some really fun work. I'm a big "write the stories you want to read" and I really want to read something like this.
Feel free to ask for previews of any of these (or any of my Your Boyfriends WIPs), I love sharing. :)
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Chapter 8: Daniel Left to His Own Devices
Separated from his friends, Daniel meets someone new...
Leah Nguyen is an OC created by my good friend Shima, who was gracious enough to allow me to include her in the story! Please go give Shima some love <3 Leah is from @elganac and Shima is on twitter @/ShimaVT
So I found myself alone for the first time since the trip started. Everyone else had gone to do their own thing, and Jack and Nico were off helping to collect firewood. Didn’t really appeal to me, so I stayed behind. So it was just wandering, until I saw the lake. That was ridiculous.. Who would go swimming in this weather?
Then I heard the splash of someone getting out of the water. No way. Who the hell would even think to–
Oh. OH. I was immediately fixated on her eyes. A beautiful shade of dark brown, shining in the early evening sun. Her black hair falling just to her shoulders, a little messed up and wet from the water she’d just pulled herself out of. Not even mentioning that cute little polka-dotted swimsuit that just–
I’m getting ahead of myself.
I stood there for what felt like an absolute eternity. Did I know her from somewhere? Obviously she went to my school, she must have been in my grade too.. Did I have a class with her? Hmm, no, I would’ve recognized her. Shit, was I staring? C’mon Rowe, just TALK to her. She’s cute! Go get her number, or, something! That was a thing normal people did, right?
“Uh..hello??” Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Shit. I totally WAS staring wasn’t I?
“Uh.. h-hey.” Nailed it. “You.. like swimming..?” Nailed it less.
I watched as a small smile crept up on her face. Hopefully that was a good sign and she wasn’t just… laughing at me. In her head, or something.
“I mean… yeah. I’m the only one swimming in this weather, aren’t I?”
“Oh, uh.. Yeah, true, true…” Come on Rowe, think of something, anything else to say! “Do… you mind if I sit with you?”
“Uh, yeah! Sure, go for it. I mean, not like anyone else is gonna be over here with us, y’know?” I watched as she patted the space next to her, which is where I took a seat. “I’m Leah, by the way.”
“Daniel. It’s nice to meet you. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
She shrugged, “It is a pretty big school. I don’t even know the names of all the people in our grade.”
“Yeah. Fair enough… I don’t really need to know many names aside from my friends, and… well, I guess yours now, too.”
“Wow, you’re gonna remember my name? I’m so touched.” She laughed to herself… wow. That was a sound I could listen to for the rest of my life and be happy.
“...You’re really pretty–”
“Huh?”
“What?”
There was a silence between us, “Uh, the, the sunset! It’s… really pretty, don’t you think?” I just hoped she didn’t think much of it. It was autumn, so the sun was already starting to set… yeah, that was it.
“Oh… Right. I mean… yeah, like, it is pretty. I guess.”
“Hey, you two!” A voice called out to us, one of the other students, “Mr. Walker wanted to gather everyone up for dinner, c’mon.”
I stood up at that, holding out my hand to Leah. “Wanna go grab some food?”
She looked at my hand for a second, before nodding and finally taking it, allowing me to help her up off the ground. “Yeah. Food sounds good.” She smiled at me, and it didn’t go unnoticed that her hand lingered in mine for a little longer than necessary.
…Was this what it was like? Had I made it? No wait, focus.
Dinner was sort of a blur. Leah had been called away to go over and hang out with her other friends, and I ate with Jack and Nico. “Soo… You two know that girl over there?” I nodded toward Leah.
Nico took a look over her shoulder. “Oh, her? Uh, yeah I know her. Leah Nguyen. We’ve got history class together, and we’re sharin’ a tent on the trip, actually.”
“Wow,” Jack piped up, “I’m surprised. Didn’t think you knew anyone’s name in your history class. Though you hated them all.”
“I do, mostly. But we got put in a group project about Aztec history and hot damn, that girl was a godsend.”
“By that you mean she actually pulled her weight?”
“Oh yeah. Got her number, told her next time there’s a group project, I want first dibs on her. She thought I was funny. Why, what about her?”
“Well, I just,” I was at a loss for words, “I mean, we talked earlier, and I just…” Uh oh. She saw me looking over at her, didn’t she? I watched as she gave me a polite little wave, which I returned. “I mean, y’know, we just talked for a bit and…”
“Uh oh,” Jack’s immediate response, “Daniel’s got a crush.”
“What? Pff, no I don’t.”
“You totally do. Dude you’re looking at her the same way you looked at Stacy Sherman back in middle school.”
I groaned, “Can we PLEASE not talk about Stacy Sherman? I’d like to block that dance from my memory forever, thank you.”
Nico just looked between us, confused, “Wait, what happened with Stacy Sherman?”
“Daniel asked her to a dance back in middle school. She said yes, but the night of the dance, she just left him. The whole time, wouldn’t even look at him, it was so fucked up.”
“Wow,” Nico tossed her paper plate in a nearby trash can. “I think I hate Stacy Sherman.”
“You and me both, she was a huge bitch with a capital.. BITCH.”
“Okay, yeah, she was not… the greatest, but I mean, that was the past! That was like… three years ago, I’ve grown as a person. I make better choices now.”
“You do?” Nico spouted out, “Since when? Or has that not started yet?”
I just looked at her. “You are so annoying.” Was all I could say in response to her little gremlin laugh.
I didn’t see Leah again the rest of the night. She had her own group of friends to hang out with, I didn’t wanna bother her. But Jack crawled into our tent that night brimming with interest. “So, you gonna ask her out or what?”
“Dude, I dunno. I really don’t want a repeat of what happened with Stacy, I mean… I don’t know if Leah would do that, but…”
“It’s hard to think about after something like that, huh?”
“Yes! That sucked, like, a lot, and I really don’t want it to happen again.”
Jack settled into his sleeping bag. “Yeah… okay, I’ve made up my mind. I’m gonna help you.”
“You? Help me?” I sat up and looked at him. “Dude, aren’t you like… the king of not confessing to your crush? I mean when are you gonna tell Nico that you–”
“When the time is right,” He cut me off, “But, that is not important right now. You’re my best friend dude. So, here’s the plan. Nico wants to walk the trails tomorrow, so when we’re out, we’ll talk about it, see what we can do.”
I just sighed and looked up at the ceiling of the tent. “Yeah… okay, that sounds good…”
“I knew you’d come around to the idea.” Jack smirked as he laid back down. “G’night, Daniel.”
“Night Jack.”
And it wasn’t long before I was out like a light.
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COTL SOTF : The Future Sheepard Family Tree(The Midsummonar Cult Generations)
Hello Cultists! so good news my w11 is finally working well since i pressed a few buttons & i guess it fixed the loop issue so hooray!
Anyways i have finally finished a project for my new cult of the lamb sins of the flesh save(new save i made named The Midsummonar Cult) which will now be my new perminate save and in celebration of this update i have made a updated version of Lambert & Lamberina Angel(my Lamb OC Sibling for Lamb) with their Own big families of Children of the Cult(aka the mating tent babies) here it is below and this is only gen 1(yes generation 1 this series will finally have a generational gameplay/storytelling save thing now)
i will post the Bishops own families with both Lambert's 3 Wives(minus Ruri who i hc and will confirm her & Narinder are in Lambert's Huge Polygamous Marriage/Family) with Nari & Ruri having the second born god child(their son Noahark named after Noah"s Ark) and with Him & Maxine having a Dating Relationship. so Only the three bishops Leshy, Shamura & Kallamar will only be focused on their own offsprings with their Ex Disciples(new lore with the Sins Update) Samantha(Shamura's Ex Disciple & Escaped Prisoner), Lady Dimistru(Kallamar's Ex Disciple & Abandoned & Ignored Ex Crush) & M3gan(Leshy's Ex Disciple & Escaped Test Subject of The Green Crown of Chaos) with only Heket being GFs with Only Witness Agaress and having a few kids with her.
So for Now Here's The First Ever Fanart based on Sins of The Flesh Update! and more to come soon(aka not too long from now)
In Order of The Family Tree
Joseph Sheepard & Marian(Mary) Steelwool-Parents of Lambert & Lamberina(Deceased)
Lambert-Younger Brother of Older Sis Lamberina(Angelique/Angel), Husband to Narinder, Samantha Bloodsucker, Lady Dimistru & M3gan Howler. Foster Father to Cult Offsprings(Maxine, Dayton & Kaitlynn Bloodsucker & Francine Butterfree, Barry Howler.) & Uncle to Nephew Joseph Sheepard Jr.(Joseph Jr.) & Stepfather to Noahark Claws.
Lamberina (Angel) Steelwool-Older Sister to Lil Brother Lambert Sheepard, Happily Married to Wife Valefar Redleaf & Mother to Son Joseph S. Jr. & Aunt to Nieces(Francine, Kaitlynn & Maxine Bloodsucker) & Nephews(Noahark Claws & Barry Howler) Sister in Laws to Midge Butterfree, M3gan Howler, Lady Dimistru, Samantha Bloodsucker & Narinder.
The Bloodsucker-Butterfree Family.
Parents : Samantha Bloodsucker & Midge Butterfree(Sister in Law to Lambert & Lamberina Angel Sheepard) Mothers to 4 Offspring : Maxine Bloodsucker, Dayton & Kaitlynn Bloodsucker & Francine Butterfree.
The Dimistru-Howler Family
Parents : M3gan Howler & Lady Dimistru(Frenemies with Samantha Bloodsucker) & Mothers to Only Offspring : Barry Howler.
The Claws Family
Parents : Narinder(Son in Law to Lamberina) & Ruri Claws, Parents to Only Offspring : Noahark Claws.
The Redleaf-Steelwool Family.
Parents : Lamberina(Angelique/Angel) Steelwool & Valefar Redleaf, Mothers to Only Offspring : Joseph Sheepard Jr.
And That's The Whole Family Tree and this is only the beginning of my SOTF Fanart(MLPBaseEdits) See you soon! Have a good football Sunday
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