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reading + art

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Whumpee, who was a slave/pet of Whumper, gets rescued by Caretaker, and after a long recovery, grew close with Caretaker.

Then Whumper struck again, trying to go after Whumpee, but Caretaker was kidnapped instead, and Whumper was now holding them captive.

Despite their trepidation and their trauma, Whumpee braved on to Whumper in order to free Caretaker. It was Whumpee's turn to save Caretaker now.

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I love it when a character is undercover and gets arrested by their friends or coworkers to maintain their cover. The drama, the theater. *chef's kiss*

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thank you all for the tags today! I feel like I'm late, but hopefully this rather long snippet will make up for it. Just some more of my @aroyallybigbangrwrb fic (upcoming in September, roughly), the Great War AU I keep teasing and (under the cut) a little Tarlos snippet for all y'all who keep holding out that one day I'll get my shit together.

Someone start playing Science Fiction Double Feature ;)

Henry tilted his head, considering. He pinched his lower lip in his teeth as he thought. Eventually, he shook his head and held it back out to Alex. Alex took it back. “You don't need another bookmark, Hen?” Henry shrugged, then reached for his slate. It doesn’t feel right taking something like that. “Why not?” I don’t believe either. “Well, then it’s no good to either of us.” Alex tucked it into his front shirt pocket. “I don’t even know what she does either.” Alex huffed a laugh, then made a face at Henry. “I should’ve paid better attention to catechism, but in my defense, the incense made me sleepy.” Henry laughed again – a bright, hiccuping sort of sound. It inspired a bubbling feeling in Alex’s chest, giddy and golden. An English rose flush bloomed in the apples of Henry’s cheeks, his freckles glowing to life across his nose. Between the rumpled collar of his shirt, the flop of sandy hair across his forehead, Henry was a far cry from the shivering, vacant man from the night before. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want,” Alex teased. “I don’t know what you know, but I know all of it and en español.” He watched Henry erase the slate with his sleeve. “I’ve seen you reading in French, so maybe that’s not all that impressive.” Henry scribbled for a moment, then showed him. It is impressive, but I only know one thing of her’s. “Oh? What’s that?” Her last words. Henry frowned and erased, then rewrote. I used them in a poem once. Alex blinked. “You write poetry?” I write. Mostly poetry. Sometimes stories. “My sister’s a writer too, but she never shows me anything.” Alex picked his next words carefully, winnowing down the large list of questions to a single most pressing one. He motioned for the chalk, which Henry gave him immediately. Alex wiped the blackboard clean, then wrote as neatly as he could: What were her last words?

And now for the Tarlos Peeps:

“Well, at least there is someone instead of no one, ma’am, because before I got here it was definitely no one,” Carlos snapped, then felt cold with regret. Silence hung on the phone line. Carlos swallowed tightly. “Ma’am, I’m sorry. That was unprofessional and completely uncalled—.” “What’s your name?” Her calmness took Carlos back. A perfect one hundred and eighty shift from her rant moments before.  He took a breath. “Carlos Reyes, ma’am.” “And you’re a detective?” “Yes, ma’am. In missing persons.” Carlos paused, but she seemed to be waiting for more. “I was a patrol cop for four years. I’ve been doing this for the last five months.” Ms. Morgan hummed on the other end of the line, considering. Her file said she was a lawyer. She probably had questions lined up for miles, on stand by for the eventual cross examination she’d give him. “Why do you care about TK’s case?” “Why shouldn’t I?” Carlos answered simply. “He’s someone, same as any other person that comes across my desk.” “Do a lot of people come across your desk, Detective Reyes?” “More than I thought, but less than if I was on murder squad.” It was blunt, but it was the honest truth. “But why him?” She pressed further. “You’ve got other cases to look into? Other people and other families who have cases that are more urgent, more actionable, whatever.” She took a beat, a small breath. “Out of all of them, and everyone else, why TK?” “That’s a fair question, ma’am,” Carlos began.

thank you for the tags @firenati0n @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@freneticfloetry @cha-melodius @whatsintheboxmh

@three-drink-amy @paperstorm @bonheur-cafe

@kiwiana-writes @heartstringsduet @carlos-in-glasses.

no pressure tags to @alrightbuckaroo @rmd-writes

@welcometololaland @dumbpeachjuice @clottedcreamfudge

@inexplicablymine @smc-27 @strandnreyes @iboatedhere

@sparklepocalypse @cricketnationrise @14carrotghoul and @seanchaidh7

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Blood Garnet - WIP Intro

it's a working title leave me alone

Aka: WIP Wednesday / Vaguely Summarized WIP / I'm Desperately Trying to Get This Dumb Story Out of My System

DISCLAIMER: this stupid story is a silly, self-indulgent mess that would require a lot of hard work to make it, um, fit for human consumption. It was my little brain break between finishing The Queen of Lies and restarting The Court of Rogues. It may not ever get finished. 🤷‍♀️ So, uh, you're forewarned. 😇

OPEN TAG for WIP Wednesday, Vaguely Summarized Plot, or both 😊- there's a lot of nonsense in here so I feel bad subjecting even more people to it 😂

Let's use this cheeky lil post for some recent WIP Wednesday tags: Thank you @kaylinalexanderbooks and @sleepywriter00 for the tags! Posts here and here (same post chain).

Rules: Pick a WIP. Post something about it. On a Wednesday. Or whenever! It can be literally anything! 😊 (It does NOT need to be extra as this😅.)

Mood Board

don't anyone say anything about how there isn't a single gemstone on this mood board

What's It About?

Take a drink every time you see an element Kate's used before in other stories. 😅

Evyn, a schoolteacher, impulsively embarks on a journey in an effort to escape the chokehold of her small village, overbearing uncle, and inevitable (and unwanted) fate as someone’s happy little wife. It’s risky, of course: wild animals roam the woods, and she still doesn’t know the source of the mysterious lights that gleam through the darkness at night. However, she gets more than she bargained for—the forest is not what it seems, nor are those mystical yellow lights.

The Fae, creatures of legend, are real.

And they’re coming for her.

Vaguely Summarized Plot

Also using up another tag here! Thank you @mysticstarlightduck for this one! Posts here and here. The tag is kind of perfect for this seeing as I don't know much of the plot myself, so I have no choice but to be vague. :)

Rules: Summarize your WIP in 15 2-5 word bullet points (as if you were trying to summarize it in 15 seconds). (I didn't stick to the limit at all.)

✨ “So the forest's been kind of glowing lately? And no one but me seems to have noticed? Ok. Coolcoolcool.”

✨ “Get married? Me? Never!” Evyn Edition: Simply Not Interested But I Must Be Lying Because All Women Want to Get Married, Amirite?

✨ “Get married? Me? Never!” Jonathan Edition: Very Not Straight But Try Telling That To My Religious Zealot of a Father

✨ Jealous twin will NOT let his sister win control of their clan like she wins everything else, damn it (footnote 1)

✨ Emo loner who can’t go home (on pain of death) just wants these weird dreams about some random-ass human to please STOP (footnote 2)

✨ “I’m going to pursue independence! In another town! On a time crunch! By walking through the woods! At night! I’m a schoolteacher with no survival experience! This Is A Good Idea!”

✨ Grumpy grandma re: pesky human: What is her deal?

✨ “Hello yes hi I’m the emo loner. I’m unrealistically attractive. I saved you for reasons I won’t explain. But also I don’t talk to humans. Or Fae, really. Or. Like. Anyone. Not often anyway. What’s talking again?”

✨ “So, like, you're kind of hot … but you’re, uh, my enemy?? But I haven't figured that out yet?? And also, do we, like, have weird sexual tension, haha, or is it just me? Hahahaha! … But seriously, do we?”

✨ "Hey I know you have breathing issues or whatever, so you don’t like dusty or dirty or humid places, but … wanna take a shortcut through this super duper cool underground cave system?”

✨ “Haha, what? No?! There’s no reason I’m avoiding this area of the forest! Nope! No reason at all!”

✨ YOU get a betrayal! And YOU get a betrayal! And YOU get a—

✨ “Who is the monster and who is the man?” (footnote 3)

✨ This asylum makes the one in TQOL look like a vacation! (footnote 4)

✨ Sexy villainess gets to emotionally torture one MC and then physically torture another. AND psychologically torture them both! Hell, maybe she’ll even kill one of ’em too! Fun for the whole family!

Footnotes

(1) IT’S NOTHING LIKE ZUKO AND AZULA SHUT UP

(2) IT’S NOTHING LIKE RHYSAND AND FEYRE SHUT UP

(3) IT’S NOTHING LIKE QUASIMODO AND FROLLO SHUT—oh who am I kidding 🎶

(4) Technically the whole asylum thing happened in this story first, like, 2 or 3 years ago. That version just lives in a purple notebook that will never be seen by any eyes but mine. So, really, TQOL stole the asylum setting from BG, not the other way around.

Character Vibes

Evyn, human, orphaned as a child and raised by her aunt and uncle. Now a schoolteacher who sees yellow lights no one else can see.

“My heart cannot be captured. I intend to die an old maid, surrounded by papers and books. Good afternoon!”

Jonathan, human. Evyn's cousin, a clerk. Just truckin' on through a life he finds endlessly tedious and unsatisfying.

“Cecil’s a soggy piece of tree bark in a hat,” he said before he could stop himself.

Ah, Jonathan Garnet. A man who gained a single speck of favour with his impossible-to-please father…and promptly hurled it into the wind.

Dharan, Fae. Exiled from his clan years ago for murdering another Fae.

The Fae leapt up, standing straight and bending his knees as if to run—or perhaps pounce. One hand hovered over the stolen knife on his belt; the other, he extended to her.

He looked away from his foe to meet her gaze, uttering a single word:

“Run.”

Rennith, Fae. Heir to his clan but competing for the title against his twin sister.

He was a man, it seemed, but those eyes bespoke something much more ancient—of man, but not man himself. Silver hair, an impossible shade, framed a face sculpted into sharp angles, as cold and pale as if it were made of ice.

A Fae creature forged in primordial fire, carved from gold, silver, and mother-of-pearl.

For the Whump People Here:

Whumpy Things I've Managed to Squeeze into the First 13,000 words

Humiliation/embarrassment (minor)

Hyperventilation, dyspnea

Angst (minor)

Grabbed in the dark

Abducted

Restrained (but make it magic)

Magically forced to obey commands

Chin grab

Whumpy Things I've Got Planned But Haven't Written

Angst (major)

Stabbed

Various fight-related injuries I won't know till I write them

Betrayed by someone you trust

Drugged/knocked out

Humiliation/embarrassment (major)

Imprisoned

Taunted by the antagonist

More magic restraints (but turn it up to eleven)

Tortured (but make it magic)

Desperation, hitting rock bottom

A death fakeout or two or three

If you made it this far, you deserve a medal. 🥇

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Hhhhh sleeper agent whumpee

They r years into recovery then suddenly someone mentions the activation phrase and suddenly whumpee doesn't recognise caretaker/team/friends anymore

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Whumpee has been possessed/brainwashed, and fights Caretaker viciously.

Caretaker, who is Whumpee's closest friend/lover/family member/etc, refuses to throw a punch or use their weapon to fight Whumpee, as Whumpee proceeds to beat them to a pulp.

Even though they're being beaten close to death, Caretaker still refuses to attack; they didn't want to hurt Whumpee even though they're brainwashed/possessed.

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[id: painting of a feminine figure descending down, giving a kiss to the moon. Her skin is pale brightened by the moons orange glow. Her hair floats around her, embracing the moon, and descending into clouds illuminated by the light of the moon. Her gown is a deep purple dusted by stars, cascading into the night above. End id]

This turned out so nice 🥺. Its based on the really orange moon I saw a month or so ago, and how the clouds seemed to perfectly kiss the moon.

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Team whump where Whumper is a disgruntled team member who left but arranges a meeting with Youngest saying they want to reconcile. They take Youngest captive and use them as bait to lure in the rest of the team.

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What whump content are you currently craving?

I can’t get enough of a complicated whumper/whumpee relationship right now! Whumper who will make concessions for whumpee. whumpee has been through worse and is willing to collude with whumper and the things they represent. How much can whumper play the role of caretaker when they both know better?!

Is that too specific 😅

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ive been obsessed with your work and i honestly just can't get enough of them! Could i make a request please please please! Supervillain captures hero and tortures them for months until they suddenly get bored of them and ask villain to get rid of them. Villain doesn't know that it's hero he was ordered to kill by supervillain and when he enters the cell where hero was he becomes shocked by what he sees and can't get himself to kill hero. Please continue this however you like im so excited!!

The villain stopped in the doorway of the cell.

It would be wrong to say he stopped dead, given being dead was supposed to be a relatively peaceful thing after the horror of it all.

(The hero, surely, wished that they were dead.)

The villain's mouth worked, but no sound would come out at first. He felt like he'd been punched in the windpipe. In the stomach. In all the vulnerable, gasping places.

(The hero, surely, would find that laughable given the state of them. They would love to only have the air knocked out of them.)

They lay in a broken heap in one corner of the otherwise pristine cell - no chance of infection or disease ending their suffering early, oh no. They were a blot of colour against the white of it all. Bruises yellow and purple and green. Blood red. The glint of bone where no bone should be visible.

Perfectly clean, glossy hair. Intricate, shiny restraints untouched by the violence around them. No clothes.

"Have you come to kill me?" the hero asked.

Their voice was raw, raspy, whether from disuse or screaming he couldn't be sure. It was impossible to miss the most tentative note of hope in the hero's tone.

The villain swallowed. Hard. "Yes," he said. Then, "I've been ordered to. I -" He swore. "I didn't know you were here. I didn't - oh god. How long have you been here?"

He willed down the nausea. What right did he have to be nauseous?

It was impossible to miss the hope and, abruptly, equally impossible to fulfill his task.

He crossed the room in one swift movement, kneeling at the hero's side, flailing to pull off his jacket. To cover the hero with something soft and kind against the bitter chill of the dungeons.

"I'm going to get you out of here, okay? It's going to be alright."

He didn't want to bring a blade down on the hero's ruined flesh, he wanted to offer soothing creams and bandages. He didn't want to invite the hero to drink poison, when he could give painkillers. How could he destroy? All he wanted was to fix.

The hero's gaze finally moved over to him, with seemingly great effort. There was very little behind their eyes. Everything except desperation had been carved out, leaving them some hollowed thing with their innards dumped like garbage on the side.

The villain was reminded of Halloween pumpkins and husked-out dolls, rabid dogs too exhausted to do more than froth and whine.

"Please," the hero said. "Don't."

Once upon a time, the hero had never pleaded. At least not without a glint in their eyes, a mocking twist of their bright mouth, like pleading was a favour, an inside joke that they were both in on.

"You don't want to get out of here?" the villain demanded.

"I don't want to wake up here again tomorrow."

"I won't let that happen."

"Like you didn't let this happen?"

The villain flinched. There was nothing he could say to that, was there? He could beg forgiveness, but the hero didn't even say it like accusation. It was just a matter of fact. Resigned.

"Finish it." The hero closed their eyes, apparently done with the conversation. "If you ever cared about me. Just...just finish it. You need to finish it. Please."

The villain pulled a knife obligingly from one of his many sheathes. He'd seen a lot of dead bodies. His hand wavered, utterly unable to imagine the hero as one of them.

"No," the villain said. His shoulders squared. "No. You're right, I let you down. God, I let you down. But I - I'm going to fix it. I'm going to fix this."

Maybe it was selfish. He'd never claimed to be an altruistic man.

He stepped out of the dungeons some twenty minutes later, gently cradling the hero's body in his arms.

He stopped a second time.

The supervillain lounged against the stairs leading up, eyes glittering, a delighted grin upon their face.

The villain's mouth dried. He glanced down at the hero, who tensed, but did not seem surprised.

They seemed...guilty.

The villain's stomach plunged icy.

"Oh, you failed," the supervillain crooned. They pushed to their feet. "I really wasn't sure which way it would go. We had to have a little bet."

"You-"

The supervillain attacked with monstrous swiftness. Both hero and villain cried out as they hit the floor; the sounds impossible to distinguish from each other. Everything rang sickening with pain.

The supervillain caught hold of the villain's hair, yanking their head back. In an instant, the villain felt their powers sweep over his body, locking every joint and muscle in place. Rigid. Rigor-mortis.

"Good job," the supervillain said, to the hero, in the tone of one promising a lollypop to a toddler. "As promised, you can go now. Crawl away if you can. The front gate locks in one hour! You know what happens if you don't make it."

The hero choked on a sob.

The villain and the supervillain both watched them, agonisingly, try to move. They managed a mere inch. Dragging themselves, with bloodied-nails, across the polished floor.

Then the supervillain turned their attention, dismissively, back to the villain. They tightened their grip, dragging the villain's body back towards the cell, the way they'd come.

"Ah well," they shrugged. "That's a them problem."

"No." It came out a wheeze, barely audible through the villain's frozen lips. "[Hero], please, what-"

"This," the supervillain declared, throwing him down where the hero had been. "Is going to be so much fun. Traitor."

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The auction by @the-modern-typewriter

It took so long to design the outfits of these assholes so thus i’ll rant why i made some of these decisions

The hero: i like to think they’re practical than anything, they started with a typical spandex superhero suit then had to adapt with the villains.

So! Full rubber suit to protect em from electricity and radiation (rubber gloves and boots included) then scorchlight came along n they had to thrift a turnout jacket to atleast put their focus on defeating him than protecting themselves from it.

Scorchlight: imma be honest i just wanted him to look edgy. He’s also practical like the hero. Helmet to protect his face and chainmail around his clothes cuz i want that glowy orange effect during the fights(also good for when your enemies try to touch u n get burned on scorching silver instead👍)

Storm warning: drama drama drama. I want the stereotypical over the top costume. Instead of a normal cape i wanted to be a lil ripped so during the fight it floats all dramatically. Also a good metaphor for a storm cuz yknow.. they’re messy usually-

I was gonna make one for radiation man but i got tired by the end of this so here u go<3

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I loveloveLOVE when a prisoner with their hands bound behind their back gets constantly shoved around by their captors and keeps falling to the ground because they can’t catch or balance themselves.

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Anyone who tried to wield the legendary sword would instantly turn to dust. Your country uses this as a method of execution. Little did you know, you were the chosen one it was waiting for.

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If only my doublets fit as nicely 😅

1740s riding habit made by my friend Lauren (it doesn’t fit her anymore, so I bought it off her; not my own work).

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Whump Dialogue

"So instead of going after me yourself, you kidnapped Whumpee and lured me here? You're a coward! You and your minions!"

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"Tell me something nice."

"What?"

"It's been a day," the protagonist said. "And I feel spectacularly mediocre. So tell me something nice."

The villain blinked at them. "You're wonderful."

"And now tone it down to something believable."

"I happen to really like you," the villain said, "and if you were extraordinary I'd have to kill you."

"...I'll take it."

The villain snorted.