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#this might be a snippet to a fanfic im working on rn
shadebloopnik · 23 days
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Angelic Alastor AU
"Al!"
The angel turned to the voice and the sound of flapping wings just in time to see the two Archangels land behind him. The smaller of the two- with porcelain skin, rosy cheeks and an otherworldly beauty, bounded towards him full of energy. Golden eyes peered up at him as he spoke.
"Just finished with our spar, and Michael said he loved the hat! I told you it was a good idea!", Lucifer spoke, deep chuckles seeming to brighten the area by its mere presence. He punctuated his words by adjusting the top hat on his head, replacing the usual golden crown, a prideful smile on his face.
"Your brothers clearly love you too much.", Alastor snipes before facing the taller angel, and giving a polite bow. "Your Highness."
Michael gives a solemn nod, adorning a small soft smile. "Always good to see you, Altruist. I had ample time before my next meeting, so I figured I'd accompany my brother on his way to your little appointment."
Michael bore nearly identical features to his younger brother, possessing the same blonde locks, white skin, and golden eyes, albeit being considerably taller. What he lacked, falling a bit behind Lucifer's beauty, he made up for with his dignified grace, a regal authority that rivalled no other. He reminded Alastor of a frozen tundra amidst the plans for the creation of life, as precise as every detail on each snowflake.
"Very well that you did, your Grace, as your brother appears to need it quite a lot."
"It was ONE time! And your directions were very unclear!"
"I fail to see how 'meet me at the gates' translates to 'circle the entirety of heaven for 3 hours', my friend."
"There are a lot of gates in heaven! No matter! They just finished constructing the new nebula! We gotta check it out Alastor! Come on!", Lucifer said, practically bouncing on his feet in excitement and circling the other in flight before dashing off in a burst of speed.
Michael let out a rare chuckle as Alastor sighed in seeming annoyance.
"Always so sprightly, makes me wonder how you keep up with it all, Altruist.", the Archangel spoke, stepping to stand beside the red eyed angel.
"Trust me Sire, its tempting not to follow.", Alastor replied, deadpan as he set his gaze to the direction the Morningstar set off on. Left alone with the other Archangel, without Lucifer with him, Alastor couldn't help but feel a bit insecure. Shuffling his mismatch wings, he subtly moved the upper white set to cover the red and black wings below, his hold on his cane, tightening ever so slightly, though not enough for Michael to notice.
Michael smiled, finding no offense whatsoever from Alastor's words and the casualty of his jabs towards Lucifer. Despite his words, Michael could see the fondness Alastor possessed for the shorter angel, clear as day. Alastor was powerful, only ranking below the Archangels themselves in sheer strength, and would be of higher standing if not for his reclusive nature.
He always wore a smile wherever he went, but it was different for Lucifer, softer, fuller. Alastor shied away from any interaction with his angelic kind, but fully welcomes Lucifer's presence, seeking it, even. It was without a doubt that Alastor cared for his younger brother, his loyalty and selflessness when it came to the younger angel was palpable, fitting of his title, and for that, he had Michael's complete and utter respect.
"But you will, you always do.", Michael turned to face the angel, golden eyes meeting peculiar red. "Its why I trust you with his life."
Its a bit ridiculous perhaps, considering Lucifer was far more powerful than Alastor could ever be, but in the end, it mattered little. Alastor held his brother's heart, and Michael could guess it rang true vice versa.
Alastor's smile froze on his face, his sharp tongue silent as he gazed into the Archangel. A bout of silence passed, broken only by the Morningstar barreling back into Alastor at high speed.
"Alastor come on slow-wings! Hah! Get it? Slow? Wings? Come on, its hilarious, lets goooo!!", Lucifer bounced, gripping at the taller angel's arm, making a show of pulling him along. Evidently he didn't use much force, seeing as how Alastor wasn't immediately carried off, but it was enough to drag the angel rather quickly still.
"Later Michael!", the star spoke with a cheerful wave, before speeding off, dragging a squawking Alastor behind him as the other hastily flapped his mismatched wings, as he struggled to keep up.
Michael smiled at the scene, before turning to leave for his meeting.
Protect his heart, Alastor, it's all I ask of you.
_________________________
The wind roughly brushed the trees around them, as 3 pairs wings fluttered to land, every flap bringing forth powerful gusts. Michael surveyed the area as he went down to Earth, a mossy swamp littered with fireflies, blues and greens seeming to glow under the night sky. He wrenched his eyes down. He couldn't bear to look at a star right now, not after....
He shook the thought away, marching to look for the angel he was looking for. He'd been searching for hours, burning through the whole day. Alastor truly was a recluse, he was impossible to locate when he didn't want to be found. This was the last place he didn't look yet. They'd let Alastor design these swamps, letting him have at least a little hand in the creation of Earth despite his numerous refusals.
There at the edge, he could see him, standing at the edge of the water, mismatched wings cocooning him, the white set covering his entirety until his black wings were nearly out of sight.
"Altruist."
Alastor remained silent, his back to the Archangel. It was perhaps the most disrespectful thing Alastor's ever done to him, what with all his usual obsession with propriety.
"Altruist.", he called again, voice growing desperate, frustrated.
Still, there was no answer.
Michael clenched his teeth, the day's proceedings catching up to him, leaving him with far, far too many emotions.
"Alastor-"
"Don't."
Alastor's voice was cold, an icy tone that rivalled his own. It made Michael angry, frustrated and bitter. Can't Alastor see that he's hurting too? That he's also grieving?
"I lost him too, Alastor."
His voice was filled with emotion he wouldn't dare name. He had to be strong and steady for his brothers, for the rest of heaven. Im front of Alastor though? In matters regarding Lucifer? There was no one Michael could relate to more.
So why can't Alastor see? Did he think this was easy for Michael?! He lost his brother too! He's not the only one suffering!
But deep inside, Michael knew. It wasn't the same. He knew how deep the bond between Alastor and Lucifer ran, perhaps deeper than he ever had with his brother.
Michael's heart was already given to Heaven as a whole, but Alastor's only belonged to one.
"Tell me Michael, whose life did you entrust to me, again?", Michael felt ice crawl up his spine, his heart growing heavier with each word. Alastor spun around, unfurling his wings to face the Archangel. His crimson eyes were redder than usual.
"How, pray tell, am I supposed to do what you asked, when you cast down the one I was supposed to protect? Tell me how can I protect him from the fiery pits you all threw him into? How, am I supposed to GO ON WITHOUT-!"
'Without them', he almost said. No, he couldn't be reckless, couldn't let his emotions get the better. They couldn't know about his own relations with Lilith, he promised the two he'd stay safe. No matter how much it ached, he couldn't go against them.
Michael furrowed his brows in understanding, letting the accusations wash over him. If it were anyone else, he'd have already smote them down for the audacity, but this was Alastor. This was the angel who held his brother's heart; angry and emotional and dreadfully loyal to the star even now. If anything, in respect for his brother, he could endure this.
Schooling his expression, he'd gaze back at the fuming angel before him, his face a blank slate.
"Lucifer's actions were reckless and destructive, with severe consequences. His reckless disobedience, his affiliation with the first woman, its shattering the very foundation of order we worked so hard to maintain. Such crimes cannot go unpunished."
His voice was cold, adopting the mask of a ruthless prince. Right now, he wasn't a brother, he was Michael, Sword of Justice, Protector of Heaven. He had to learn to separate each title, it was the only way to ensure he did his role right. He can't be a brother right now. He won't, not for this.
He wishes it made it hurt less.
As emotionally compromised as he was, Alastor couldn't mask the pain in his face as he squeezed his eyes shut at Michael's tone, knowing he was now speaking to a soldier, not a friend. The sight of it almost made Michael want to break down the mask. Almost. Not nearly enough to actually do so. He was able to bear casting down his own brother, this was nothing.
The thought sent another pang to his heart, and he pushed it to the back of his mind.
"I love him too..", his voice was low, resigned, all energy leaving him as he looked away from the angel before him. Michael was so so tired. "It had to be done."
The swaying of the leaves and the buzz of nearby fireflies were the only things breaking the deafening silence. Now that he thought about it, didn't Lucifer help make these? Little bursts of light flying amidst a darkened swamp...
Why must everything hurt Michael today?
He heard the other take a deep breath, and turned to see the other adopt a smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Thank you for your visit, your Highness. You may take your leave now."
Alastor always smiled, even when he didn't mean it, but none of those ever felt as wrong as this one.
"Alas-"
Michael cut off his own words at the other's glare. Alastor's eyes glowed a deep red, his sclera giving its own crimson glow. His glowing wings seemed to curl closer around him. All this while still keeping on that damned smile. It was uncomfortable. It served little to intimidate someone as powerful as Michael, but this wasn't about power.
He's never seen Alastor look so broken.
He may be set apart from the other angels, but he always looked so happy with Lucifer.
......but Lucifer isn't here anymore, is he?
Suppressing a sigh, Michael kept his voice level. ".....Altruist."
Alastor's smile only seemed to widen, contrasting with how his wings curled tighter around himself in a cocoon.
"I wish to be alone. Now.", the deceptively cheerful tone made Michael sick.
Without another word Michael turned around. There was no fixing this. Alastor looked as though a single action would cause him to flee. If Michael didn't take his leave, he'd have left anyway. All Alastor wanted was Lucifer, and Lucifer was condemned in Hell. There's nothing he could do.
As he spread out his wings, he took one last glance at Alastor's smiling face, before taking off, ignoring the muffled sounds of sobbing he left in his wake.
It was the last time he's ever seen Alastor smile.
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bluest-planet · 8 months
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A Lesson in Darkness, Snippet
Small bit I wrote on a whim for my OC, Yoruhua and Vanitas based on this art we drew. Some Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles references and fan lore. Anyways, onto adoptive sibling bonding moment shenanigans;
Vanitas scoffed, leaning against the much taller Yoruhua. He was completely unimpressed with what he was looking at, "so this was what you were so excited about? It's just another dead Keyblade. We saw plenty of those in the Graveyard."
A large boney gloved hand gently ruffled his hair from behind, which he tried to swat away to get them to stop- earning him some scratchy chuckles.
He looked up at them and frowned (but from their perspective seemed like adorable pouting,) getting them to stop.
Yoruhua simply smiled back peacefully to him, old tearstain marks over their discovery long since dried but still evident. It was embarrassing to him, how were they not? The look was so ill fitting on another creature of Darkness- especially for one so ancient and powerful as they claimed to be.
So weak, so mushy, so soft.
So unlike him.
Too much like those of the Light. Like Ventus.
"you're right, oscuritó, however... Out of all the blades from before; copies, mimics, mass produced... This is one of my design. We're getting closer to finding her, me, my Heart's Promise. It's a good sign..." He said quietly, though his voice was still rough from disuse the past eons, trapped within Void Gear.
The homunculus moved forward, forcing him to stand on his own, and pulled the old keyblade from the poisoned earth around it with no issue, unlike Vanitas had earlier; unable to pry it from centuries worth of weathering and miasma clinging to it. Not even he could do it.
It irked him seeing how easy it came to them. But if she really did helped create it, her ability to wield almost any keyblade was stupid useful in their quest and in his training.
In Yoruhua's grasp, she gently rotated it to see it from all angles. As if it weighed nothing at all, despite its hefty design- but if he was going to be honest, he had no idea how they were able to recognize it so quick with how dirty it was. Crusted in mud, muck, and bent all out of shape. He wouldn't have even notice if he hadn't tripped on the damn thing- it's Dark signature so hidden under all the poison it was undetectable.
But Yoruhua held it as if it was made just for her, instead of by her; light as a feather, just forged.
He still glared at it, "it's useless, not even worth the scrap metal all messed up like that. Worse than the ones in the graveyard."
She hummed, "well, its been eons since it's last wielder even held it. It's name is Breath of Achlys. Its what's oozing all this Miasma; still loyal to my fellow homunculi's dying wish to bring permanent ruin wherever they went." She slowly trailed the twisted blade's flat side with a finger starting from its broken teeth to the deformed hilt.
A wry, half-hearted smile on her lips, "ironically, I made it to purify the Miasma as an alternative to dangerously collecting drops of Myrrh. It was supposed to assist Orichalchemi's caravan in restoring their Tribal Crystal, make things easier for them all... Until a fellow homunculi slayed the Wielder it was made for, and made it her own."
He was mildly fascinated seeing it come to life in seconds with just a pinch of Darkness to revitalize something loss to time, back to its former glory. He's never seen Darkness being used in such a way.
He channels some of his power into the blade, both of them watching as the rust crumbled away revealing stark lilac steel, and twisted back into a curved, winding snake like shape. It's teeth reforming into a gaping spitting cobra, and the hilt slowly opening like the leaves of a corpse flower to shield the wielder's hand from its volatile poisons. The handle covered in a snakeskin leather.
Now that, was a true keyblade. Pity it was made for one of the Light originally.
"So, still think it's useless?" Yoruhua teased Vanitas.
He huffed, "I thought you had to be bequeathed in order to wield a Keyblade. Or prove yourself, so how could some other Darkness hold what was once held Light? Let alone a Light holding something made by the Dark in the first place."
Yoruhua twirled the blade again, watching it flash purple for a second, and started to suck in the poison around them. The effect wasn't immediate, but Vanitas could feel the shift in the air. Cleaning the area up to find any hidden clues.
He nodded, "asking the important questions- good." He lowered the keyblade for him to get a better look, "let's just say the way keyblades are made and used now barely resemble at all what they were originally created for."
"Just like the current worlds don't resemble the past world I came from. Life itself, changes relentlessly. Back then, Hearts and Light were still so new- like fresh clay they were easy to mold and much more adaptable. Before they set and dried into what they are now."
She smirked, "but that, will also inevitably change. It's a never ending cycle, little brother. Besides, what's important is that it still recognizes my authority as its creator."
He sneered at them, "what a lousy explanation. You're no better than the old man at explaining things. And don't call me 'brother' I've already got two of those already. I don't need anymore."
Yoruhua shrugged, "I never said I was any good at teaching; it's hard to explain things to someone so detached from the collective." She used her spare hand to point at his chest, right at his heart, "I speak in a way that I thought you would understand better; but evidently, just as I said, things change. The connection all those from the Dark should share, the language and the inheritance... It's lost on you. Just as you call Sora and Ventus brothers due to how your Heart and body are connected. So too do I call you brother in honor of that past connection."
Vanitas looked at them in deep thought, a scowl permanently etched in his face, before coming to a begrudging acceptance, "if I had... Existed, back then, would we have been connected like that? Within one another's shadow."
He felt amusement at the perplexing look on Vanitas' face, dumbing their speech down, they follow up with, "Back during the Dawn of Light's Era, all within the Darkness were inherently connected; me, before I made a Heart's Promise to Orichalchemi, and the other homunculi,"
"We could understand each other without words, each an extension of the others. Of course we had self consciousness separately, but we were more like... Trees, if you will."
She shifted in place, "we each controlled weaker Dark beings, the leaves and branches- us being the trunk and roots protected by bark, our physical bodies- and linked between a roots system, the collective... Err... 'mycelium' to communicate a need. Be it sharing resources or warning about danger."
Yoruhua let out a snort as if laughing at their own joke, "a bit odd to explain it like that- it is... Much more complex than that. Just as all things are. But I hope that helps you understand why I do and say the things that I do."
He almost didn't believe in it; the idea that anything would just. Unconsciously understand him and his needs, and to share anything with him at all without asking for anything in return. He refused to believe it would be anything like the how the Light would do it. The Light who make you ask for it, the Light who makes you have to prove yourself worthy enough to have it. The Light who always demanded something in return, be it friendship or good deeds instead of simply providing it because he was a part of it.
Ventus was selfish like that. Keeping his own identity, face, and keyblade- to keep the body that was not constantly plagued with emptiness and pain, away from Vanitas. For keeping that away from him and leaving him with a half existance, and envy in its place.
Yoruhua's eyes briefly glazed over with nostalgia as she looked over Vanitas' smaller form, moving her hand from his shoulder to gently pet his hair again, "I used to hide in my my siblings' shadows when I was little, taking solace in that endless black. However unintentional, you freed me from my prison. To you; my shadow is yours to make even darker, Vanitas."
When he looked back, all he saw was an expression of pride on Yoruhua's face as she reached out a gloved hand for him to push away, but he didn't. Allowing them to gently rest it on his shoulder, firm and grounding, "I don't need a inherit connection to recognize you as one of my own; we are shadows, long since cast in the burning Light. Blending within one another when cool night falls."
"Perhaps this generation of Darkness has forgotten what we once were; an unstoppable, unified force. The Light might have severed that connection when it introduced its potent, and addicting individuality- making us think it is more beneficial to work alone than it is as a whole- but even when I do find my Lighter half- I will never forsake my Darkness for it. That includes your place in it, oscuritó."
#kh#kingdom hearts#kh vanitas#kh oc#kh fanfic#snippet#starry stories#theres uh. a lotta unexplained or even potentially wrong lore here lol bc of Yoruhua's origin.#a lot of it is also based in the final fantasy chrystal chronicles games hfhfhf#so if u know u know!#might actually write a fic about em but it needs build up cause im working on a vanitas fic rn#just know that darkness is a lot more fluid it what it is than what we have in kh rn#but also. they're not squeaky clean darkness just used to be more of like a hive mind that worked toegther to do darkness stuff before#and Yoru is so weirded out by the fact they cant read Vanitas' mind basically lol#also. Yoru and other physical darkness/dark humans are called homunculi for Reasons#not vanitas tho kinda#and theyre both kinda unreliable narrators or what they day doesnt 100% refect the truth and what i think F#Yoru just doesnt care that he did evil things more that he didn't get a choice in being created to work for Xehanort#and for getting split up in two halves without consent since he willingly shares her heart with Ori#anyways she supports whatever he wants to do regardless if its darkness or not lol he can still be a bit evil as a treat#but now with a sister who's proud of his violence fbfnbf#Yoru really said: damn we need to unionize again were getting our asses beat by light since we seperated#Xehanort: *breathes* Yoru: I KNOW MORE THAN U#shes a sweetheart tho#she doesn't hate dark more like just at peace w being a dark creature lol she kinda doesn't care about it at all
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raysletters · 7 months
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get to know your fanfic writer!
i have to be honest, the lovelies @14carrotghoul and @suseagull04 tagged me for this like a week ago and i have incredibly bad memory, but here i am anyway (thanks for the tag and sorry for being late lol 💀)
when did you post your first ever fanfic?
oh my god,,,,,, i think it was 2015(??
first character(s) you wrote for:
before i say this, i need to explain i was a child with a very early access to internet. also, i am, as a great mind said once, a pathological people pleaser, and my sister was a directioner,,,,,,,,, so yes ofc i wrote a fanfic about harry styles for my sister, even though i never published it, and it was just a dumb y/n story,,,,,,,, (this was like 2012). though, since harry styles is a real person and not a character like my 9yo self thought, then i assume the next one would be,,,,, damon salvatore (it was posted on wattpad and absolutely horrible, i had an hyperfixation and created an oc and everything)
main character(s) you’re currently writing for:
alex claremont-díaz, henry fox-mountchristen-windsor, beatrice fox-mountchristen-windsor, june claremont-díaz, nora holleran, and percy "pez" okonjo have all had their points of view written or worked on at some point on my docs. between that and them seeing the light of day is another thing.
character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan on writing about soon:
i- i guess, since they haven't been posted yet, bea, nora and pez will get their time to shine (soon, hopefully) on my next fics. ive also been trying to write a bit of catherine for the diabetic!henry au,,,,, but its been really hard bc its all just too close to home.
fandom(s) you’re currently writing for:
red, white & royal blue
platonic pairing(s) you currently write for:
at this moment im obsessed with writing alex interacting with both bea and pez, bc we didnt get enough of that on the book and fics always show june being besties with henry and i kinda wanted to pull an uno reverse on that trope. also, im really interested in writing some henry and nora, bc they're besties on the book that gossip about drag race and stuff,,,,, but i want to maybe dive into it a bit deeper.
romantic pairing(s) you currently write for:
firstprince and junopez, and ive already have two wips where i give bea a girlfriend,,,,,, so theres that
your top 3 tags on AO3 (if you post your works on AO3):
i literally went to my dashboard to look it up, the first one is my different alterations of the tag "not beta read", but we're not going to count that one. next we have (surprisingly to no one) "angst", "mental health issues" 💀💀, and lastly "songfic" jskssjsksjsksjsksjskswjsksjsksjsks
your current platform where you post your works:
you can find me on ao3 as raysletters
snippet of the wip you’re currently working on:
i am working on SO many wips rn bc ive been sick and that has meant being in bed and not doing shit most of the day bc it hurts to breathe sjsksjsksjsksjskssjsksjkssjsksjsjsjajkssj
here, i give yall a snippet of the musician!alex au yall saw on the wip title game (that can be alternatively called "fulfilling most of smut saturday prompts in one single fic bc i wanted to try writing smut and it quickly got out of my hands")
so, idk if this would be nsfw bc it is not the smut itself, but more like smut-adjacent narration, but still putting the break so y'all can decide if you want to read it or not
This exact moment, though? It might not only embarrass him in a very public setting, but might also make him combust and collapse from sheer lust.
The entire place is crowded to the point of asphyxiation, the fans are spinning at their limit speed on the ceiling, and Henry feels like this is probably how hell feels.
That is, if hell ever had the pleasure of getting Alexander Claremont-Díaz on his knees, making the most obscene and erotic guitar solo known to mankind, thrusting his hips to the rhythm of She by Harry Styles on his guitar while the lights focus on him; his open white shirt shows the chain he now knows contains the key to his family's home at Texas, his glistening chest and the sweat that rolls over his collarbones, his pectorals, his abdomen and then disappear on his navel behind the guitar. It makes Henry reminisce of that first video he ever saw of Alex, and can’t help but compare the performance to seeing it live after more than a year, while knowing how excited he had been at the rehearsal, jumping and moving around while refusing to practice because of his own jitters.
Of course it paid off, Alex, the bloody show-off, has the entire place entranced under his spell, not even the clients sitting on the bar stools, who had shown little interest in the performance through the night, could take their eyes off of Alex.
Henry absolutely gets it, but can't help the feeling of jealousy that courses through him. He desperately wants to drop to his knees to show Alex how marvelous he is, hoping he thrusts in his mouth like he does on his guitar.
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heyjude19-writing · 2 years
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hey jude! did you take any creative writing classes before you started to write RN? Do you have any recommendation of possible things you did to improve your writing enough to give you the courage to start writing the story that was in your head for 10 years?
Hey anon! I’m gonna write you a big, long thing because i fucking love talking about writing. Ready? Okay!
Without getting too specific, i do edit/write for my day job, so i’ve taken many a writing course throughout my education/life which helped me with the basics, but it’s been quite some time since ive taken any formal classes. As far as creative writing, that was always my hobby. Sitting down and writing RN after a damn decade was less about feeling like i had improved enough to get it out and more of a mental health thing. My anxiety said “god, just write it already, it’ll help” and then the pandemic said “god, just share it, not many people will read it and you’ll feel better” and here we are.
What’s helped me improve since and kept me going:
Writing more. I’m no longer holding myself back from writing down any and every idea that comes to mind, whether it be for fanfic or original writing. None of these ideas even have to go anywhere, i’ve just allowed myself to enjoy the act of writing and it’s helped me immensely. Sometimes I revisit these little pieces and read them again for fun, or add a bit more, or go incorporate them into something larger I’m working on. Not all writing has to be productive! But I firmly believe it does help you grow the more you do it. 
Challenging myself. I’ll stress that when i say this, i mean i am challenging myself in a fun way, not in a “let’s make this as frustrating as possible” way. Experimenting with story length is one thing I love as a writer. Drabbles and ficlets are wonderful ways to work on specific skills, because you are so limited by the word count. This type of quick-bite writing forced me to remove dialogue tags i’d normally use, delete most adverbs, get rid of unnecessary qualifiers like “very” and “just” to save space for the actual story. 
Genre experimentation. I recently wrote my first horror fic and i’m quite proud of it. It made me realize how much i enjoyed writing in that arena and might be something i look to do for original work. It forced me to take familiar characters i was so used to writing one way and draw out different facets of their personalities to make sense for a darker plot. If you are ever at all tempted to try a different story genre, just go for it. I learned a lot about my own craft while doing this. 
Read more. I’m sure you’ve seen this a lot as far as writing advice goes, but i promise it’s true. To use my horror example again, I was reading a novel where wings burst out of a character’s back and it was a real mindfuck moment as a reader and then my mind just spiraled with inspiration for my own stuff from there. You might come across a phrase or a style of prose that grabs you by the throat and then holds your brain hostage. There are so many ways to tell the same story, and reading more will expose you to all these differences. It lets you find out what’s not for you (ex. writing from a ton of different povs in one story is not for me) and what you’d want to try out for yourself (ex. Im itching to eventually write a first-person pov).
Another recommendation if we’re talking about longer form stories (and i feel like i give this advice a lot): find out what kind of outliner you are. I LOVE the outline process. It’s my chance to word-vomit all over a fresh word doc any and every idea that comes to mind for the plot, the characters, scenes, dialogue snippets, etc. I love to bullet point scenes, sketch out some important character moments. None of this involves finesse, or craft, it’s all the ideas phase and it’s when I feel my most creative. Once i’ve got a story fully outlined, I go back and actually write out all these scenes (not necessarily in order, i’m not one who needs to write chronologically). Other writers I know just start from their first sentence and go from there, not allowing themselves to jump ahead. Find out which way works for you, because you’re the one who will need to read all of it over and spend so much time with it. Outlining makes me EXCITED about stories and helps pump me up to write and share them.
Talking with other writers. It was hard when I first posted RN and didnt know anyone in the community. But by putting myself out there it led to conversations and friendships with other writers. It’s a resource i’m incredibly grateful for, to have people just as nerdy as i am about writing, trading tips or asking for advice/encouragement or just to double-check im not insane and actually did use the word “belie” correctly. It can be intimidating, but if you havent already and are comfortable, check out some online writing groups/discords. 
Don’t feel like you have to follow every “writing rule.” It’s so easy to get bogged down in “you’re supposed to write THIS way” and you find yourself looking at a paragraph of soulless words that while technically correct, don’t say very much at all. I personally find it intimidating to try and improve all the things at once and it makes me hate the process. I’ve found concentrating on one aspect for improvement makes me feel like im growing without overwhelming myself. For example, i made a conscious effort in a recent story to not rely on adverbs so much, and when a reader noticed this in a comment, I was fucking elated. 
Okay and now to get a little pollyanna for a second. It does take courage to share your work on a public platform and open it up for public consumption/opinion. Your writing won’t be for everyone, but it is yours. You will spend the most time with it (in your head and on paper/screen) so it helps if you like it. What really matters, i promise, is that you like your own writing. 
I hope you found this helpful and good luck with your writing! My ask box is always open 💕💕
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