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paradiseprincesss · 3 days

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tale as old as time - jonathan crane x reader

masterlist

notes: based off of this post by @kpopgirlbtssvt! sorry its taken me so long, ive been lacking a little motivation recently lol.

summary: your dad works for the gotham police department, and he has been looking into jonathan's experiments on his patients. in a panic, jonathan decides to kidnap you and use you as blackmail against your dad so that he stops looking into the corruption of arkham. though you're awfully scared at first, you discover that maybe being held "hostage" in a big, beautiful mansion with a man who slowly becomes enamoured with you isn't as bad as you'd originally thought.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: kidnapping, fear-toxin, kissing, swearing, i dont know if this classifies as stockholm syndrome but yeah maybe that too, and fluff

you flipped the sign over so that it read "closed" and tidied up around the bookstore. it was a quiet day today, business was a little slow but that was alright - you only worked here part time, anyway.

you worked at a cozy, little bookstore right in the heart of gotham. it was owned by an older man, and you worked three days a week there while you completed your college courses. most shifts, you would be the one closing since the store wasn't open very late anyways. the latest it would be open was seven.

ever since you were a little girl, you'd had an obsession with all things books and literature. you loved reading more than anything, and you couldn't count how many books you owned if you tried. the shelves in your apartment were lined with different pieces of literature, and you found yourself passing time by reading most days - that is, if you didn't have homework, of course.

as you were closing up, you texted your friend that you were heading home for the night as you stared at the clock.

6:58 PM.

you sighed, locking the door behind you as you locked up for the night. you'd be back tomorrow morning, but you didn't mind. like i said, all things books and reading were right up your alley. you were a total bookworm. after locking up and walking down the street back to your apartment, you noticed that the streets of gotham were awfully empty tonight. you barely saw anyone walking while you were on your way home, and you made note to rush back to your apartment tonight.

before you could get to your apartment, a figure stopped you. as you were passing through an eerie alleyway (which you always considered to be a shortcut), a white cloud of gas invaded your senses. you started to cough like crazy, and you felt your throat tightening up. your vision began to blur, and you started to hear voices and whispers from all different directions. in a panic, you tried to run but with disturbed vision and clouded senses - you didn't get very far before you were on the ground.

before you could even register what was happening around you, a pair of hands reached out to grab you. suddenly, your felt yourself being thrown into a vehicle of some sort before blacking out. it all happened so quickly.

"where is she?" you heard what appeared to be your dads voice yelling over the phone, "what did you do to her? answer me!"

as you opened your eyes to see what was going on, you felt a sharp, sudden onset of pain in your head. with a small groan, you reach up and rubbed your temple in hopes to ease the pain. as your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, you noticed you were in a room of some sort. it was rather luxurious, as there was expensive looking art pieces hanging on the walls along with velvety drapes hanging from the windows.

you looked down to realize you were laying on a plush, king sized bed that had fluffy pillows littered out behind you, as well as a cozy, fuzzy duvet to keep you warm. suddenly, you remembered how you got here - you were kidnapped.

panic surged through your veins as you started to freak out. desperate to find some sort of explanation, you get out of the bed and draw open the curtains to see where you were. as you looked outside, it was nightfall. the moonlight was illuminating the room you stood in, and after attempting to open the window - you noticed it was locked. you continued to keep trying, but it wouldn't budge. of course it wouldn't. what kind of kidnapper would be dumb enough to leave the windows unlocked?

in a state of pure panic, you run towards the door and fumble with the handle, but it was locked like the windows. looking around the room, you tried to find any other exits, but it appeared that the only two ways to escape were either the door or the window. both of which were locked shut. you closed your eyes for a moment, feeling tears start to pool in them. after wiping the tears off your cheeks, you sigh and get back into the comfy looking bed.

if you were being kidnapped, why was your kidnapper holding you hostage in such a nice place? from what you knew, when most people got kidnapped or held hostage, they were taken to a confined, dirty, eerie place where they were usually being held at either gun point or at knife point. neither of which were currently happening to you. instead, you were locked in what looked to be a big room in an even bigger mansion in god knows where.

"let her go!" you heard your dads voice again, and it was coming from outside of the door.

"dad?" you call out with panic in your voice.

"was that her?" your dads voice said, "where's my daughter, crane?"

suddenly, the door to the bedroom made a click sound, and someone walked in before closing the door behind them. you peered over to see a tall man standing in the room with you. he was wearing a suit with glasses, and he had a phone in his hands. as soon as you saw him, you started to tremble.

"i told you," the man spoke into his phone, "i have her here. i'll continue to keep her here for as long as you keep investigating arkham asylum."

"let her go, please," your dad begged over the phone, "just let her go and i'll stop looking into it."

"i'm afraid i can't do that," the man spoke once more, "you've gotten your officers to snoop around arkham one too many times for my liking." after that, he hung up on your father.

your dad was the director general of the gotham city police department, which meant he oversaw everything in the jurisdiction of gotham when it came to police and law enforcement. he'd been looking into the corruption of arkham asylum for months now, waiting for jonathan to slip up - but he never did. he knew the game your father was playing at.

jonathan knew that the GCPD was onto him, so he made sure to keep all illegal activities under wraps and very discreet. he was aware that your dad, along with a bunch of officers and detectives, were looking into him and watching his every move. jonathan was certain he needed to take action before they started looking into his work and discovered something he didn't want them to see.

that's where you came in. you were the director generals daughter, and everyone knew that. your dad loved you dearly, and he would always talk about you and how proud he was of your achievements whenever he could. this information lead jonathan to cultivate a plan to make sure your dad and his men would never look into arkham again.

he decided to kidnap you, essentially. he knew that you were the light of your fathers life, and if he held you hostage and used you for ransom, surely your dad would stop looking into him as long as it meant he got his daughter back.

so, that's what jonathan decided to do. he'd been stalking you for weeks, learning everything about you. from what time you left the house to what your favourite coffee order was. he knew everything.

last night, him and his men put his plan into motion. he waited for you in the alleyway you always took home as a shortcut, and he dosed you with a very mild form of his toxin. it would temporarily cause your vision to become disturbed and some possible auditory hallucinations, but you wouldn't succumb to your worst fears like you would with a concentrated dose.

after you were out of it from the toxin, him and his men loaded you up into a white van, speeding off into the night as they headed to jonathans hideout. it was over an hour away from gotham, but jonathan was willing to make the sacrifice if it meant having you in an undetectable place. so be it if he had to drive over an hour back to arkham every time he had to work - that didn't matter to him.

"please," you whimpered as you cowered away to the farthest corner of the bed, "d-dont hurt me."

jonathan looked at you in silence, his icy blue eyes reminding you of the glaciers in the antarctic. 'i'm not going to hurt you," he sighed, looking at you in your fragile state, "...you don't have to be afraid."

you looked up at your kidnapper, and he seemed to be telling the truth. he didn't come closer to you and stayed a good distance away - plus, if he really wanted to hurt you, he wouldn't keep you in such good conditions.

"you kidnapped me." you whispered.

yes, he did. he knew that, obviously, but he didn't intend on actually harming you. again, if he really wanted to hurt you, he would've used the concentrated version of his fear toxin on you by now. the more he learned about you from stalking you, the less inclined he felt to harm you.

sure, he may of hated your father and wanted him dead, but you weren't your father. you were someone else, your own person - you were entirely different. you didn't go around snooping in other peoples businesses, you kept to yourself. jonathan found it a little endearing that you worked at a bookstore of all places while making your way through college. as a fellow bookworm and academic, he almost felt like he could see a part of himself in you.

you were kind to everyone you met; that was one of the first things he had noticed about you. your politeness was unmatched, and he liked that about you. he liked that you were a gentle soul, someone who never had any bad intentions. that was when he decided that even though he was technically going to hold you "hostage," he wasn't going to hurt you. if anything, he felt an overwhelming need to take care of you. to dote on you, even.

"but i'm not going to hurt you," he said softly, "i told you. although, your dad has been...causing quite the commotion at arkham with his investigations."

"what does that have to do with me?" you whimpered.

"not much," he informs you, "however, i know you are of great importance to your father. since he decided to start to look into arkham, a lot of my plans have been...deterred. that's where you come in - if he wants to take something important away from me, i will, of course, do the same."

"so you kidnapped me to get revenge on my father?" you quipped quietly.

"it seems that way, yes." he says curtly, as his magnetic blue eyes bore into yours.

"will you let me go?" you asked.

"i'm afraid not, my dear," he says softly, "though i wish i could, it would be foolish of me. you would go running to the police, and then where would we be?"

"wait - are you trying to keep me here forever?" you asked in a panic-filled voice.

"for now, yes. unless your father agrees to keep me off gotham pd's radar as well as wipe all his investigative files regarding arkham asylum, you will have to remain here."

silently in your head, you begged your father to do so. you didn't want to be stuck here forever. tears pricked the corners of your eyes, and the mystery man looked at you sympathetically.

"there is no need to cry, my dear." he says in a hush tone, finally making his way over to the bed where you were quivering.

you back up as soon as he steps any closer to the bed, and he freezes. you started to full on sob into the pillows, dramatically throwing yourself onto the bed whilst crying softly. he almost chuckled at the act, but he kept his composure as he sat on the edge of the bed. he reached a hand out to pet your hair as you cried, and this time, you didn't even pull away.

"it'll be alright," he cooed softly, "you'll come to like your life here. at least, i hope you will."

you look up from the pillows, dragging the duvet cover over you as you continue to sniffle. "i don't even know who you are." you inform him.

"jonathan crane." he says softly, continuing his attempts to comfort you. "i'm so very sorry that it all had to be this way," he whispered, still petting your hair as your tears started to slowly stop, "i'm sorry that you had to pay for your fathers mistakes."

though his words seemed menacing, his tone was ever so gentle. he didn't yell at you, force your hand, or try to do anything that would imply he wanted to hurt you. for a moment, you almost forgot that you had just been kidnapped and made to be a hostage for blackmail.

jonathan got up, sighing as you watched him from your plush, king sized bed. you were still shaken up, and he decided it would be best to give you a little bit of space - especially if you were to suddenly react or get volatile with him. he wouldn't want to scare you any more than he already did, even though he really did not want to nor did he intend to.

"the door will be unlocked," he said softly, "i will be working downstairs in my office. if i am not here and instead working at arkham, the staff around the house will be more than happy to take care of you."

with that, he closed the door gently, leaving you in the dimly lit, luxurious bedroom all alone. staff? what did he mean by that? like, butlers and maids? you assumed so, as jonathan must have had a good amount of cash stacked up from his criminal activities. as much as you wanted to leave and escape, a part of you felt too tired to do so - plus, if you were being honest; this place was way nicer than your apartment.

with a sigh, you felt yourself grow weary from the exhausting events of the day. with heavy eyes, you slowly started to drift off into sleep as the soft, fuzzy duvet covers wrapped around you to keep you warm while you slept.

you awoke some time later, though you weren't entirely sure when. you looked over to the large window, and the sun was beaming down into the room, illuminating it cheerfully. you rubbed your eyes and did a little stretch before getting out of bed. you were still in your clothes from yesterday, which weren't the most comfortable.

with a huff, you attempt at opening the door - and it was unlocked. pushing the door open, you peer your head into the corridor, which was long and full of different doors leading to different rooms. the walls were decorated beautifully, and the whole home looked expensive. you wandered into the halls, eventually coming to a spiral staircase. you know, like those fancy ones in those expensive homes.

"you're awake." a voice from behind you said, making you jump. "sorry, i didn't mean to startle you."

turning around, you see jonathan standing there in another suit. "yeah," you mumble, "i...wanna take a shower and change into comfy clothes."

you felt awkward saying this to your...kidnapper, but it seemed he didn't have an issue with it. he gave you a nod along with a small smile.

"of course, i assumed you'd want that," he spoke softly, "i had all your belongings brought from your apartment back here. however, if there is anything else you would like, please let me know."

"why are you being so nice to me?" you ask suddenly, genuinely curious as to why you were being treated so kindly.

jonathan didn't know how to answer this - he didn't want to flat out tell you that he thought you were absolutely beautiful and that your personality matched the way you looked. he thought it'd be a little strange to do so. as diabolical as the man was, he had grown to have a little soft spot for you after watching you for so long. he couldn't bring himself to hurt you even if he tried.

"because as much as i hate your father, you haven't done anything to me." he told you.

"my dad said you've...killed countless people. why aren't you doing that to me?" you ask, getting braver.

"you aren't useful if you are dead," he says coldly, his demeanour changing, "what kind of leverage would i have over your father if i killed you?"

"fair point," you reply, "but-"

"would you rather i keep you chained and starved in a cold, eerie basement of some sort?" he asked sharply, and you could see that he was starting to get defensive.

"never mind, sorry." you say quietly, looking at the ground.

jonathan sighs, taking his glasses off as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "i apologize, i've had quite the morning," he offers an apology, "there's a bathroom down the hall to your left. everything you'd need is in there."

you look up at him, getting captivated in his icy eyes for just a moment before nodding. not offering a response, you make your way down the hall and just as he said, there was a bathroom to your left. stepping inside and closing the door behind you, you take a moment to collect yourself. eventually, you turn the knob of the shower on. the shower was huge, the whole bathroom was - you were living in luxury.

after you showered, you dried your hair and threw on your favourite pyjamas that were left on the counter of the bathroom for you. after you got ready, you hesitantly made your way downstairs as you were quite hungry. shyly, you approach the kitchen after getting lost in the many halls of the huge mansion, and you see jonathan standing there with a cup of coffee in his hands. as soon as he notices you, his eyes seemingly light up at your presence.

"i'm sure you're hungry," he says softly, "what would you like to eat for breakfast?"

"um," you say hesitantly, unsure as to what to say back to him, "i don't- i'm not sure."

"i assure you that my chef can cook whatever you desire." he tells you, sipping on his coffee.

his chef? how much money did this man have? you pushed your questions to the side, and told him what you wanted to have for breakfast. jonathan had his chef cook your preferred meal for breakfast, and after you ate, he came back into the kitchen to check up on you.

"feeling better?" he asked softly, leaning against the counter as you sat on a barstool in the kitchen.

"i-i guess." you stammer out.

you were feeling a little better than yesterday. it seemed that your captor truly had no intentions of hurting you, though the reason behind that was seemingly still a mystery.

"i'm glad," he says softly, "i have a large library located in my office, if you'd like to look around and read something. i know you...have an interest in literature."

"oh," you say quietly, "okay."

"i have quite of bit of work to get done today, so i wouldn't mind some company. you can read while i work." he informs you, and honestly - you didn't hate the sound of that.

though he was a deranged criminal, he didn't seem half bad. he was a gentleman and he had manners, plus he'd shown you a remarkable amount of kindness and freedom. well, as much as he could for a hostage, that is. even just twenty-four hours in though, you were starting to feel less like a kidnapping victim and more like...well, not that.

"come, my dear," he says softly, reaching his hand out to which you hesitantly placed yours in, "this way."

the two of you walked together hand in hand to his office. he pushed the doors open, and your eyes lit up at the sight in front of you. inside of his office, there were walls lined with rows and rows of books. all sorts of literature, ranging from science-fiction, to fantasy, to autobiographies. it was every bookworms dream.

"i will be working on some paperwork," he informs you, letting go of your hand to go sit at his desk, "but, please. read anything you want, i have quite the collection."

"i can see that," you say in awe, "can i just sit on the couch over there?"

"of course, my dear," he says, "there's a fuzzy blanket on the edge there, too, if you get cold."

you glance over at the couch once more, and yes, there was a cozy little blanket draped over the edge of it. happily, you skim through the books for a good while before picking one you thought would be a good read. plopping down on the couch, you wrap yourself up in the blanket before getting lost in the book you'd chosen. for a moment, you had forgotten why you were here in the first place.

jonathan watched you as his heart raced, a faint blush covering his cheeks. your personality was adorable, and so were you. you looked so cute happily skimming through the books, and even cuter with your nose buried in the pages as you wrapped yourself in a fuzzy blanket. he couldn't help but smile to himself as he stole glances at you in the midst of doing his work.

over the next few months, you and jonathan developed a routine. you'd keep him company while reading in his office, and he would work quietly at his desk. it was rather comforting, as the two of you had grown closer from it. everyday you started to feel more and more at ease with him, and slowly, you started to become less and less afraid of him, too.

jonathan liked it this way. so did you. if he was working at arkham, you'd find yourself missing him, and when he returned, you'd greet him with excitement. his way of living was something you could get used to - it was luxurious. you were waited on hand and foot in this big home of his, and he would always take care of you the best he could, as well as keeping you safe.

today, jonathan had come home from a particularly long and tiring shift at arkham. he was exhausted, and all he wanted to do was go lay in bed and rot away, if he was being totally honest. it had been a tedious day of dealing with screaming patients and volatile criminals that he'd deemed insane.

"jon!" he heard your voice call out for him as soon as he opened the front door, "are you home?"

"i'm home!" he called back, watching as you rushed down the stairs to come see him.

over time, you found yourself not wanting to leave anymore. jonathan trusted you, as he'd leave the doors unlocked (even the front door and your windows), because he knew you wouldn't leave. gotham city was terrifying, and it was filled with hardened criminals and awful people. it was much safer in his home instead of out in gotham, where anything could happen to you at anytime.

soon, you started to see him in a different light. though you knew now that he was the scarecrow, you couldn't quite see him as the dangerous monster everybody painted him out to be. he'd always dote on you, speak to you so gently, treat you with such kindness, and give you everything you asked for. not to mention, he was undeniably attractive. you tried to push those thoughts aside, but they just kept coming back.

"i missed you." you said quietly, giving him a small smile as you started to blush profusely.

"i missed you too, angel." he said back, opening his arms for you to run into.

happily, you ran into his arms as he gave the top of your head a chaste kiss. he wrapped his arms around you with a heavy sigh, and you look up at him with an innocent expression on your face.

"hard day at work?" you ask, to which he nods.

"very," he says, "i'm going to be upstairs if you need me, okay?"

"can i come with you?" you asked hopefully.

"of course you can." he says, taking your hand in his as he walked you upstairs with him.

as soon as he got to his bedroom, he threw his briefcase onto his bed with an agitated huff. he loosened up his tie and you crawled onto his bed, watching his every move in fascination. he threw his suit jacket off onto the edge of the bed before coming down to lay down beside you, scrolling through his phone lazily.

hesitantly, you made your way over to him. there was obvious tension between the both of you, as you would always sit close to each other but never cuddled up to one another. there would be times where you would greet him with a hug as he got home, looking up at him lovingly, but you'd never actually kiss. both of you were too hesitant to make the first move out of sheer nervousness, and given the circumstances you were in, neither of you were sure what it would mean for the two of you.

quietly, you found your way into his arms, resting your head on his chest. his one arm instinctively came to wrap around you, while he scrolled on his phone with the other. as you lay there, you could hear his heart beating much faster now, and yours started to beat much faster, too. neither of you said a word, and you felt your own eyes become heavy after a few minutes.

"are you sleepy?" he mumbled tiredly, putting his phone away and looking down at you with adoration in his eyes.

"a little." you confess, smiling at him softly.

jonathan was quiet for a couple seconds. he started down at you with those pretty blue eyes of his, and took in your every detail. he looked at you softly, taking note of your gorgeous features. with a sigh, he cracked a small smile.

"you're so pretty." he finally says, reaching one hand out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "i don't ever want to let you go."

your heart palpitated in your chest at his words, and you felt your cheeks heat up. "i don't want to ever leave." you confess breathlessly.

"then don't." he says quietly, before kissing you softly as you lay there in his arms, wrapped up in pure bliss.

truthfully - your dad had stopped looking into jonathan months ago in hopes to get you back from him. he pleaded jonathan to give you over as he thought something may have happened to you, but at this point, you'd already gotten attached. you called your dad to let him know that you were okay and totally unharmed, but that you no longer wanted to return home.

as messed up as it was, life seemed to be better here with jonathan. it was safer. you got everything you asked for, and you had jonathan to keep you company. your father gave you a mouthful about how jonathan was a dangerous, cynical man who never had any good intentions, but you weren't too convinced. sure, he was a cold-hearted, borderline psychopathic doctor who was slowly poisoning gotham city with his fear toxin, but he wasn't like that with you. in fact, you theorized that he truly hated everyone but you.

he was so gentle with you, so kind and so loving. he would always make sure you got everything you wanted, and he even helped you with your studies. he would have someone drive you to and from gotham u so that you could finish your degree and attend your lectures. even though the opportunity to flee presented itself on numerous occasions; you always found your way back into jonathans arms at the end of the day.

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shivasdarknight · 10 months

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Hi, sorry for this but you are a writer, so umm.. I was hoping you could give me some tips/advice on how to write?

tbh the way I got into writing is a bit insane, but I do have some advice that can help. gonna put it under a cut just because it got kinda long

honest to god, one of the best pieces of advice is something you're already doing because reading can genuinely help you with becoming a better writer. stepping outside of your usual genres or authors can help expand your viewpoint and introduce you to more narrative styles so you can play around and see what works for you. eg. if you mostly read first person, give second person a shot. or if you're an omniscient third person, try limited third person. or even retrospective first person, because i often see people complain about first person pov when it's married with a present tense story. if you have a first person narrator talking about events in the past as if talking to you, or a journal it often takes an entirely different angle and it's something I've played with in Homestuck fics because that fandom tends to be more open to narrative experimentation. Writing is honestly a lot of looking at stuff you like (much like art) and smooshing it all together. Personally, I've gotten a lot of my writing style from stuff like The Locked Tomb, admittedly Lovecraft was foundational (but this is a great example of why to always remain critical considering his bullshit), so was Homestuck and Rick Riordan's stuff. I'm never trying to copy them wholesale, but I am looking at aspects I like - such as Riordan's humor intertwining with the narrative and narration, or the deeply unreliable narrators that Muir writes, or even how Homestuck balances purple prose with gut wrenching conciseness when it counts. A lot of modern day fast food fiction takes out a lot of the stuff that actually builds a story - pacing, playing with narration and technical writing - so you need to be conscious of what you're looking for in things. Often more established authors get to do weirder stuff than new authors, but don't discredit new ones because that would be leaving out folks like Xiran Jay Zhao and their phenomenal prose.

Another thing that helps greatly is reading writing critique. Video essays on books or even more critical thought pieces on writing, tropes, etc. can help you learn more about why something works. Lots of different channels on YouTube dedicated to dissecting media, absolutely recommend stuff like Hello Future Me, Overly Sarcastic Productions (real world ties + mythology, great basis to build things on), Zoe Bee (writer + commentary), Nerdwriter1 (media analysis + commentary), Just Write, and Tale Foundry. For adjacent suggestions that can help build up alternate perspectives that aren't directly about writing but are about critical thinking with stories (which is frankly an important skill to have), I definitely recommend Princess Weekes, Accented Cinema, Now You See It, Dominic Noble, The Storyteller, and Pop Culture Detective. A lot of this is discussing film (save Dominic Noble, who also talks about books a Lot), but the core essence of storytelling is helpful regardless of what angle it comes in - be it video game, movie, tv, or book reviews and analyses.

Actual writing. Varies on the person on if they do outlines or not and how, but I still recommend trying to do an outline when you're first starting out. One habit to immediately knock yourself out of is writing things chronologically. If you're working on a big piece and have more energy to write something in the middle? Put that in a new doc and leave a placeholder for where you're at. Legitimately, getting words on the paper is more important than those words being good. Because you can always come back and edit things to make sense.

Always edit what you write. I hate the "no beta we die like real men" attitude because people will dunk on editing but then praise stories for having "firm and satisfying" connections which can only really be built through editing. Your first draft is your rough idea. Your second one is when you read through and have it make sense. Three is making that make sense, and maybe 4 is more just grammar and spelling errors. Edit as many times necessary to make sure you like it.

Always work in broad strokes, then move in finer like with anything. Do a general idea for a story, then your main story beats, then how you connect them together, and then the nitty gritty of each. Keep lots of notes - do not rely on your head solely for everything - and just also be willing to let things go if they change.

What I tend to do when I write is I want a good flow. I often get that from reading my writing out loud to hear how it sounds, but I'm looking for a good beat to read along. Because even if the sentence is grammatically correct and structurally sound, it may not be very interesting to read. Like you could say someone feigned a polite expression to not let the other person know that they didn't feel comfortable with a topic, or you could go the angle I went with recently of "she painted herself an interested expression to wear as dread began to gnaw at her gut." Sometimes the more colorful or out there the language is, the better it sounds when you read it. Like instead of saying "that's just how things go for them" you could say, "but Fate had a funny way of making her disdain known for (X character)". And this is where reading other peoples' work comes in real handy because you can get a lot of examples of how people write things.

I also try and reflect themes of the story into the writing itself, like this section of a draft:

Still nothing. Seemed he wasn’t going to bother with a glass, instead just ripping the top off of some bottle of gin and tipping it back with little regard for himself. Still that chronometer ticked on; still that taught tension like another arrow had been drawn. A million and more things flooded Ysayle’s mind, itching to loose them at Estinien, yet found herself stuck in indecision as she stared daggers into him - ever her opposite as he just seemed despondent. The gin bottle hit the extended shelf loudly; one hand a fist around the bottle, the other balled up on the surface - knuckles as white as bone. Still, Estinien said naught. Still, the chronometer ticked on. Still, Ysayle’s heart roared in her ears - poisonous words damming up her throat.

The theme of this story is avoiding the mistakes of the past. How things often can wind up cyclical, and the goal is to break from those cycles and repeats. So naturally, several points of the narration itself repeat itself. This isn't standard writing style, but it gets that point across by repeating "Still" as the scene crawls on. I also use a lot of alliteration in my writing because I personally find it fun? So "a maddening matter made most malign", for example.

It also helps to change up how you write or what descriptors you use based on the character whose head you're in, even if it's third person. Third person can have a voice and I often use it to speak aloud a character's thoughts instead of relying on italicized dialogue-thoughts. It makes the dialogue-thoughts appearing hit more when they do instead of just having to be subjected to internal ramblings constantly. Like in this fic I just published:

“...Can we talk about it on the morn?” “What for?” You don’t know what it is you ask of me. “Tired,” Estinien said with a shrug. “We’ve morning patrol, remember?”

Compared to this fic:

“Yes, confusingly.” Her tone was flat as she leaned once again on Surkukteni’s shoulder, thankfully on the uninjured side. “I fear I may have been wrong, though I truly doubt it. To deny me twice, then throw a fit? I wonder — why didn’t you go through with it?” Not even Surkukteni had that answer. For the umpteenth time during that conversation, she refused to look at Her Darkness. That desire — twisted and poisoned as it was — was one that still surfaced from time to time, yet like clockwork made her ill and was banished from her thoughts. Why was that? She felt scorned back then, wishing the universe would correct this error in sparing him but taking Ysayle — but was she not the one who helped save him? Who helped tear those eyes from his armor? She easily could — and had previously — bluffed that it was to destroy the eyes and be rid of the threat, but given her hesitancy now? Why?

All of Surkukteni's thoughts are condensed into the narration so that I can separate out her thought dialogue from idle musings since she - specifically - has a connection with something that can talk telepathically. This thing comments on the literal narration of the story, so when she's directly addressing this thing it's thought-dialogue. But her actual thoughts become narration to avoid spending too much time with that, as I find it's better used sparingly.

Motivation for writing is probably the hardest thing, and best I can advise is to get really into critiquing the stuff you like because you wind up finding a lot of material in fix-it stuff, or just wanting to see more of stuff like you. It's part of what drives my xiv stuff due to how they treat female characters, and I really just wanna see more sapphic bi4bi. So considering it's something I've been stuck in for a very long time now and really like the ambient lore and wish it would do better, it's fueling my desire to write. And from there, there are so many other angles to take - like building ocs, building lore. Finding a sandbox is genuinely one of the best ways to do it. Again, like. You'd be surprised at how much is there because of spite. LOTR has Eowyn because Tolkien didn't like that the "can be killed by no man" thing in Macbeth was resolved with a character born by c-section, so he instead wrote Eowyn, the woman who killed the Witch-King of Angmar. C.S. Lewis didn't like the fact that Tolkien believed that modern technology - or slightly less modern technology - didn't believe in fantasy and he explicitly cited lampposts. And this is why there's just a random light post in the middle of nowhere in the Narnia books.

Critique is good and healthy. I'm critical with the stuff I like and my own things so I can work on them and myself. It's fine to like something that you don't wholly agree with, especially if you're using it to inform how you build on it or build your own things. Like I dunno, I looked at Dante from Devil May Cry and went "what if he was trans" and now I've got Rhombi, a character who has stepped really far away from the OG Dante mould, but you can still see hints of it as I used what I wanted to see out of DMC to build this bisexual disaster of a guy. I was disappointed by Elsword not really committing to some of their character concepts, so I kinda just took Eve (and admittedly Add) and made them into Celes and Neilos and took them to their logical conclusions. All three of them were originally fantrolls at some point, so most of the heavy lifting was done when I was back in Homestuck and all I had to do was scrub the barcodes off of them to build them up in an original verse.

Chemistry is also crucial. If characters aren't vibing, move on. Do not force it. Good chemistry can save a bad story (eg. FFXV) and bad chemistry can ruin a good story. Often it's the characters that drive a story so you need to do a lot of plotting and planning. Most writing is honestly just planning before putting the words down.

And I'm very much so rambling by now but my main points are these (+ others I'm realizing while typing):

Plot a Lot and keep lots of notes, and also organize those notes. The contents don't have to be pretty, but you'll thank yourself in advance if you at least sort them by core idea

Getting words down is more important than getting them down correctly. You can always come back and edit it when you have an idea of how to make it work

You can always place a [insert scene here] tag so you can keep your flow and don't get caught on something.

You also don't have to write chronologically - you wanna write the big confession scene before the intro? do it! just jump right into it!

also don't be afraid to delete stuff or remove it from your draft. save things for later to see if they work elsewhere, because maybe it could be a better spinoff.

dont listen to the advice of "if it really matters, you'll remember it in the morning" that advice was given by neurotypicals who don't have memory issues. make notes of EVERYTHING and then delete the ones that don't work

sometimes writing by hand vs computer can really make a difference in how you think. handwriting is slower and makes you think about stuff, so you may want to keep journals for random snippets or ideas like how doodling is good for building up your habit of drawing

Outlines can help but how you outline is up to you. Try a few styles out and go with what works best.

I cannot stress enough that having something like a marker board to write out your broad stroke story ideas is really really nice

Broad strokes first, then narrow it further and further down. Don't get wrapped up in the nitty gritty details

Chemistry is crucial and can often save a piece you're not fully feeling.

Read your stuff out loud while editing because it can help point out stuff that's not jiving! I find it helps a lot with dialogue

Read a lot. Listen to critique. Be more critical. Also don't limit your idea of stories to just books - expand the media you consume and you'll find really interesting stories that can help with yours

Don't be afraid to use tropes, but also don't super rely on them to where you're just checking off boxes instead of coming up with natural scenarios built on chemistry (eg. having the nerdy goth girl is fine, but the way the trope ends in most media ("fixing" her or just having her be a quirky cynical critic) may not fit with your story and it may be better to see how the story plays out rather than forcing it into something it's not)

Iron Widow is a good example here: the relationship between Zetian and Yizhi is pre-established and comes off as sort of "boy next door" vibes, or at least the very dedicated childhood friend. It quickly becomes apparent that he's as much a co-conspirator in her plans as Shimin is. The guy can be ruthless when given the chance, and that's how Yizhi goes beyond the initial trope and defines himself outside of it. Same with the contextualization of Shimin's seeming "aggression" as the "bad boy" and figuring out where that problem/persona actually stems from, and then the shift of viewing it as less aggression and more retaliation and self preservation.

Find something you do really want to write about, like filling a void in a piece of media you like or doing a take on media that made you mad or disappointed. Jane Eyre is technically fanfiction because the author wanted to see more of Jane and didn't get that. The Divine Comedy is self insert fanfiction of Dante Alighieri as he does worldbuilding with Christian mythos regarding heaven and hell. The Riordan verse is his interest in mythology crossed with a desire to give his son a protag that was like him (specifically ADHD and dyslexic), which then became wanting to let kids see themselves in the different halfbloods in the series.

There's a lot of ways you can get started writing, but the best way is to just write goofy stuff for yourself. Get out stuff that may look bad at first, but you go back and read it and critique it. Just getting yourself into the habit of writing helps a lot, because again: it matters less about the quality, and more getting it on the page and actually having something. You can always fine-tune writing, after all.

My first FFXIV fic isn't actually even published. It was just me writing something rambly about my Warrior of Light when I was starting to figure her character out. It looks nothing like what I'm doing now in part because that fanfiction became a launching point for me to work on others. I've got a lot of drafts that will never see the light of day because these were proto-concepts that became the stuff I wound up publishing. It's fine to have drafts that remain drafts because you can take that as practice, and practice is good. Anything that you write has value because you can use it to let your technical writing skills mature.

Also, don't be afraid to look for help. There are beta services on tumblr (or at least used to be when I was a teenager), plenty of writing guides or places set up to ask questions, plenty of youtubers that give prompts for you to work with. The hardest part is always getting started. But once you get past the awkwardness of the start, everything just falls into place and gets easier the longer you go at it.

You definitely have the desire for it because I've seen your very deep love of literature through the Bi-Library, so you can definitely become a strong writer if you put your mind to it 🫶 Find something to fix or address, and that usually is what gets the ball rolling. Worldbuilding is fun and can lead to something, but you can't have a well built world without a story to explore it.

Characters drive story, story is how you explore themes and the world itself, and the world itself is built on your experiences and interests. Embrace the fact that this is coming from your lens and experiences, because no media is truly void of the author and its other creators. Embrace that fact and use it as an extension of yourself. But really, just write. Literally anything. Just get into the habit of writing, and it'll progress from there!

#original #asks #answered #bisexual-coala #writing tips #long post #this is very rambly but getting into writing isnt the most straightforward thing #a lot of the time it really is just finding something that clicks and not caring about what goes on the page for the first draft #ive been writing fanfiction for...over a decade now? + a lot of rp (also over a decade) and now some p serious original stuff #my fanfiction has also gotten way more involved than it used to be #genuinely i got started writing by keeping a lot of journals and writing every idea i had even if im now embarrassed by it #what matters is just getting into the habit first and then looking at your stuff more critically once the habit is formed #it's hard to build a habit if you're immediately critical #but it's hard to maintain a habit or hobby if you're not - especially if you feel you can build on something #if you do feel it you oughta pursue it and see where it takes you #perfectly fine to not be critical with hobbies but being Constructively critical is how you improve and mature #constructive is key here. because being down on your own writing or being self deprecating is how you lose a hobby #like let's say you don't like your dialogue #go read scripts or books of stuff you like the dialogue from. analyze why they work in contrast to why you feel like yours doesnt work #maybe someone else has a solution for why it feels off #sometimes it's just as simple as taking a step back and looking at it as a whole or even just sleeping on it and coming back w fresh eyes #always approach something you don't like about your work with the attitude of ''how can i improve so i do like it''#like ''i need to be better at fight scenes. ill be sure to include more in my next piece to focus on it and maybe read some action books''#lotta ways to do it!! theres no one right way just a way that fits best for you!!!#just absolutely ignore the ''if it's a good idea you'll remember it in the morning'' stuff.#it doesn't account for people w memory issues and will screw you over #you do not have to wait until you're good at writing to start working on something. you need something to work on to improve #you can always come back to an idea as many times as you need as you grow as a writer #so just write until you build a habit and base style then analyze and move from there #fanfic is honestly really good for practicing style and technique - the characters and world are already ther so why not use em?

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