#farren writes

[silv3reyedstranger]

oh how love stings

“So…what do you think?” Kara plants her chin in her hands and chews at her lip.

“It’s beautiful,” Lena murmurs, running her fingers over the writing. “What does it mean?”

How can Kara put it into words? How does one translate the legacy of a broken family into understandable terms? It’s almost impossible for Kara to find the words to encapsulate the pride and grief she has for her people. There aren’t human words that can convey the heartbreak she still hasn’t healed from. Heartbreak that may never heal.

Kara swallows roughly. “In simple terms, El Mayarah.” Her hands itch to follow the same path Lena’s did, but she might burst into tears if she does. “There aren’t any human words that are…adequate enough to do them justice, but it means something along the lines of: So haunt me so that I may always remember who I am. Make a home of my chest so I may carry all of you with me forever. We will always be stronger together.”

Summary:

Is Kara Zor-El a wimp when it comes to needles? Yes. Does she really want to get tattoos? Also yes.

The only problem is, the only person who could possibly do one for her is Lena. Her best friend. Who she’s unequivocally in love with. She really knows how to pick them, doesn’t she?

[Read on AO3]

I’ve had the absolute joy (and agony) writing this fic, and though it took literal months, it’s finally out in the world. Thank you to @guessimreallyhere for cheering me on! Big thank yous to @unnaturalceilings and @lauriedanvers for creating the phenomenal art pieces (linked on AO3) that accompany this work<3 Finally, infinite thanks to the @supercorpbb mods for organizing this event!

#ya’ll dont understand how long i agonized over this #the 8k is equivalent to 8 litres of tears and like 8 mental breakdowns #a good chunk is alex shitting on kara but whats new #supercorp #supercorp fic #supercorp fanfic #scbb 2023 #farren writes #kara danvers #lena luthor

[k-wame]

Eamon Farren as Cahir & Bart Edwards as Emhyr 2023 • The Witcher • S3·EP3 • dir. Gandja Monteiro

#i mean --- it writes itself! #the witcher #thewitcheredit #the witcher netflix #eamon farren #bart edwards #cahir x emhyr #homoeroticism #beautiful men

[bubblytarts]

I challenged myself in the second half of the year to write a story about my and my friend’s characters interacting - a giant multiverse project across our friend group.

“The Rise of Ozymandias” became a 50K+ word project that released over August into now - with one chapter and the epilogue left, I’m almost finished. I made this poster in November as a treat for myself, as well as a test if I should start doing lineart again.

I’m very proud of myself for everything that the story accomplished for me, my friends, and for getting me back into long form prose writing

Characters:

Top: Ozymandias (he/him, owned by Me)

Bottom, left to right: Farren (he/she/they/xey, owned by Me); Perrin (they/them, owned by @parallel-2-anywhere )

#my art #ozymandias #farren goldenhearth #perrin P2A #parallel 2 anywhere #the rise of Ozymandias #my writing #original character #artists on tumblr

[astaldis]

I did the math, there are 675 fics with Cahir in them on A03 you’ve written 89 of them you account for 13.2% of all the Cahir fics

Oh, really? Ups, I never checked, thanks for the numbers 😘! I find the number of Cahir fics (especially the ones where he's not a minor side character mentioned by name only in the tags or just the evil torture master who kidnaps poor Jaskier, tortures and abuses him and is then killed by a vengeful Geralt) is far, far, far too small. That's why I started writing fanfics again after not doing it for years. Nice I could up the numbers a little 😊

#cahir #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #cahir fics #cahir fanfics #cahir on ao3 #the witcher netflix #eamon farren #maybe I'm a little obsessed 😂 #or a lot 🙈 #but I have written ca 20 fics that are not about him too #so perhaps I'm not totally hopeless 😉 #have to continue writing my latest Cahir fic #it's only 1:56 a.m.

[kuroshirosb]

"I’ll surely be happy." with your bianca if you'd like ^_^

“So how has Nate’s journey been running along?” asked a voice coming from the blonde’s xtransceiver. 

“I’d say it’s going…” replied a certain blonde chaperone, pausing her frequent clicking of her pen to think for just a second “...well, Professor Juniper.” She let out a sigh, furrowing her eyebrows in frustration as she turned to look over at the student who was almost putting on a street performance with meloetta. 

The brunette in her watch let out a chuckle, “Not used to babysitting teenagers, Bianca?” she asked. Bianca could hear her shuffling with her xtransceiver on, hearing her rummage through something in the background. 

The research assistant shook her head, “Not really, he’s just rowdy is all. Especially since he’s still lying a lot, which is…” She grimaced, watching as Nate started to get into a heated exchange with what she hoped was another teenager as Meloetta watched in curiosity. It’ll sort itself out, she knows. Probably with a pokemon battle, as all things did back when she was just a bit older than him. 

Her mentor simply hummed, pulling out a little green baggy from the cupboard. “It’ll pass eventually, he’s at that age when he’s still figuring things out. All teenagers got their quirks. The most we adults can do is try to guide them onto the right path as they grow up.” Bianca turned back to her xtransceiver, watching as Professor Juniper closed the cabinet from the other side of the watch screen. 

She sighs, rubbing her forehead over her green cap. “I get that, doesn’t mean it’s easy though.”

“No it’s not, but growing up isn’t easy either Bianca,” she reminded, evidently shutting off her stove with the click her student could hear. “You know that more than anyone, we gotta cut them some slack. Even if they can be difficult.”

The blonde only sighed, her hazel eyes squinting as she stared at the blurring letters in front of her. “I guess you’re right,” she mumbled, clicking down the green option of her multicolor pen again and began writing yet again. She let out a grumble of pain as an ache in her started to flare up.

There was more shuffling on her teacher’s end, the sound of pouring water, and eventually it came to a pause. Had she been looking, she would’ve seen the professor finally sitting down with the cup of green tea she worked so hard to make. “You really do need glasses I think.” 

Bianca sighed, “I probably do. Haven’t found the time to make the appointment and get them checked out, though.”

Professor Juniper just simply hummed, taking another sip from her cup. “We’ll sort out a time for you to get them checked out. Can’t have my assistant’s head hurting from simply reading now, can we?” she remarked, winking at the blonde from behind her screen. 

The girl in the green hat simply smiled warmly, her frustrated expression transforming into one of fondness. “...Thanks Professor.” 

Juniper smiled, before quickly shifting the conversation again. “...So, you’re working on your therapy journal right now?” She watches as her assistant nodded, humming as conversation while she bit down on her pen. “I see… It's been a while since you last saw your therapist. Have the journals been helping you?

Bianca nods again, turning her gaze back to her xtransceiver, putting down her pen. “I’d say so. I mean, I’m still doing them even after I stopped seeing her.” She takes a page by her hand, and starts flipping through the pages. “It helps me sort out my emotions, ya know? It’s become like a part of my routine to me… almost.”

She can’t remember the last time she had a truly bad day, honestly. A lot of her days were expressed with simple :)s or :|s. Sure there was the occasional >:( (mostly due to a certain… ex friend. Who she refuses to think about. Or Nate did something that especially made her worry) but for the most part, the last time she felt distress… was a long time ago.

It feels weird, not being as affected by her trainer years anymore. She could only imagine what her therapy journal would’ve looked like had she been writing in one when she was seventeen or eighteen. Maybe sixteen too… that’s when it was all beginning. 

Oh well. She yawns, pausing her flipping and returning back to the page she was writing on. She stretches her arms out. 

The brunette in the lab coat’s face shifts into one of concern. “That’s good to know,” she remarks, as she places her cup to the side. “Although, if you ever need to talk about anything, you can come to me or Briar. I care for your well-being just as much as I did when you were sixteen. I’m sure Briar does too.” 

BIanca hums, turning back to the woman on the screen. Her face softens, hearing that. “...Thank you, Professor,” she simply says. She returns back to her earlier entries, one she remembers oh so well, forever stained by the tears she was crying on that stormy night.

An entry when she was just barely nineteen, when the effects of what everyone did still lingered heavily back in her mind. 

When Hilbert’s frozen body still burned inside her memories and haunted her vision every which way. 

When she was still… lost. 

Sometimes she still feels that way.

“I think one day, I’ll surely be happy… and I think I’m getting there.” She says, staring down at the page with a bittersweet smile. She internally thanks the boy who wore the baseball cap she’s kept inside her bag ever since she left to guide three certain children. 

Professor Juniper’s frown shifts into a warm smile, one that seemed to glow with pride “I’m happy to hear that, Bianca.”

The girl in the green cap simply closes her eyes and giggles, turning back to look at her mentor inside the screen. 

Only to be taken out the warm feeling to a familiar yelp, pokemon cry, and explosion. She looks straight up with wide eyes in the direction, and sighs. Her head hurts again. “Naaaaaate!” she calls, only to be met with no answer.

She packs her journal inside her bag hastily and takes out her Mandibuzz’s ball in exchange, just in case she needs a pokemon to remove the fourteen year old and his pokemon partner from the situation so they don’t get themselves hurt. “I gotta go, Professor. Nate’s probably gotten himself in a fight again. I’ll call back later, okay?”

Professor Juniper just laughs awkwardly, waving her off. “Oh the tiresome energy of adolescence, don’t worry about it. Keep me updated, okay?” 

Bianca nods, saying her goodbyes before clicking the end call button on her xtransceiver. She slings her bag over her shoulder, preparing to apologize yet again for the teenager’s behavior, as well as what lecture to give Nate this time. One that he most assuredly, won’t listen to. Oh the stresses that come with adulthood. 

Despite it all though, she’s much happier like this.

#asks #rivalhughs #ashe's writing #pokemashe #bianca farren #aurea juniper #briar fennel #nate torta #those latter two are mentioned so i thought i'd tag them

[thecheesywritingcabin]

A Pre-2024 Update

Hi. Long time no post. How’s everyone doing? Surviving what’s left of 2023? I hope so.

Anyway, before 2024 starts, I thought I’d break down 1) where I’ve been and 2) what I’ve been up to. This update is now 3 months overdue after all.

What’s Been Going On

So, the last time I posted an update was April. I was firmly in “Act 2/3 territory” back then, so where does that leave me? Don’t worry, I won’t drag out the reveal.

As of September 27th, draft 3 of The Case of the Crawling Shadows is done. We all have read over the book, and are at a point where we're ready to share it with people.

I can't overstate how happy I am about it - we've been working at this thing since April 2022, and we're finally here. We can start talking about publishing this thing. I CAN SHOW PEOPLE THE BOOK.

Back in September, I intended to do a post about it. There's a draft announcement saved on my computer somewhere for that purpose.

I remember reaching the end of the book, and then scrolling back to the top as I usually do. I didn't find any outstanding comments, or weird spelling/grammar, or even a sentence I thought looked funky. As I read through, searching for weak points, none materialised. I was happy with the book.

It was the weirdest feeling, almost melancholy. For those of you who don't know, I've never finished a novel before. Starting them isn't a problem, but I tend to keep going and just...abandon them. This was a first. I enjoy writing, and it was a bit sad to not be writing this story that consumed a large portion of my life any more.

So, I told the others I was done with my side of the edit, stepped away for a bit, and then threw myself into some writing exercises to feed the itch. The others finished their edits and read-throughs not long after.

From here, the plan is simple. The three of us are sending it to some beta readers (ie: close friends to double check things) on Tuesday. After that I’d like to send it out for a sensitivity read, do tweaks according to both sets of feedback, then…yeah. We’re good.

The plan at this point is self-publishing so @fioriisketches and @lazyninjartist have the freedom to design the inside and outside of the book. I'm hype to see what we can do with the layout.

What Else Has Been Going On

So, it's been 3 months, and there's been a bit going on between now and September. First and foremost, I started drafting pieces of book 2 (yes, we want to do another book) and doing character studies in November. I'm probably going to pick up a 4thewords subscription next year after how much fun I had during NaNo 2023.

December I took a break from writing a bit to compensate for how much I was doing in November. The plan is to ease back into it Janurary/February - then again, my plans have failed before.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to what 2024 brings - I'll hopefully see you all there. For now, I'm going to leave you with one of my favourite parts of The Case of the Crawling Shadow. @lazyninjartist handled the opening section during draft 1, then @fioriisketches and I came in to embelish and adjust dialogue. It's one of the chapters that's changed the least since we started, I think.

#office of cryptology #cryptologists #writing #editing #novel writing #we did it #finally #this is the thing I've been looking forward to since 2022 #covert investigation #makoto marshall #alex farren #the case of the crawling shadow #end of book sads

[atlatsofstories]

sharing a kiss in a heavy downpour of rain . ( cemre & tony )

↪     𝑲𝑰𝑺𝑺  ﹠ ᵀᴱᴸᴸ .    (  a  collection  of  50+ kiss prompts .   feel  free  to  specify  the  initiating  muse .  potentially  nsfw  content  within .   will  be  updated .)

→ sharing a kiss in a heavy downpour of rain.

                      Tony & Cemre

” Hey — hey wait! “ , he called out after her, “ Cemre, just fucking wait. “. Could she even hear him over the heavy-ass rain drumming on the ground?

Tony was jogging after her into the rain, every frantic step splashing water, heavy downpour soaking him thoroughly as the weather showed the man no mercy. As it was, he could barely make Cemre’s dainty silhouette through in the rain, though he knew he was gaining the distance he had given her a chance to put between them.

What a stupid fucking idiot he had been — almost letting her go and walk away from him, from them.

As he picked up his speed, his breathing grew heavier with each bounding step; frustration strangling the living hell out of him. For his own stupidity. So they had had a fight, they had had a disagreement and both were too stubborn to admit to being wrong. Now only after she had exited his vehicle and walked away, he had realized he needed to be man enough to admit being wrong, his pride couldn't come first.

He sucked in a breath as he finally found himself closing in on her, arm reaching out to grasp at her shoulder to spin her around to him. Maybe it was because he hadn't expected her to comply and turn around to him so easily, he nearly collided with her body at the half step he still was taking. Not that he minded the close proximity and a chance to wrap his arm around her waist to pull her to him. " Let me just start by saying that I am an idiot. " first admission of the many he wanted to make. One hand cupped her cheek, his amber eyes searching for her gaze as he just wanted to read whatever was there in her eyes and in her expression. Thanks to the close proximity, even with water streaming and blurring the sight, he could see her expression better, and there he knew he wasn't going to have to beg for her forgiveness. Though, he would have begged, if he had had to.

" I don't gotta tell you that I was wrong. " his words almost a whisper, head tilting down as he became to descend his mouth closer to hers before he continued murmuring with his breath puffing out now very close to her lips, " but I'm not very good at admitting when I am. ". Maybe he should beg a little for her regardless, after all, he really liked it when she begged for him under different circumstances. " Will you please, forgive me, Cemre? " he couldn't help but smirk at the concept of begging, no matter the circumstances. At that, he descended his mouth onto her slightly parted lips and kissed her; and he could taste the rain, her sweet taste, forgiveness, and his own salvation.

#sugcrkisses ! #sugcrkisses ;; cemre ozan #op ;; cemre ozan #w ;; tony & cemre #ch ;; anthony 'tony' farren #prompt ; prompted to write #prompt ;; tony

[writingeastmidlands]

The book that goes wrong

This was supposed to be a quick novel. I’d already written 30K in 2021 before putting it aside, so it was really just a matter of picking it up, brushing it off, and writing the next 60,000 words. Right? I reckoned that would take me a couple of months. I started in May so I intended to be finished by July.

It didn’t quite work out that way, and now, nearly four months later than planned, I’ve eventually finished the first draft.

This is what writing the novel looked like:

So, what went wrong? How did it take me more than twice the expected time to write a book?

On one level, it doesn’t really matter. This was a speculative novel, so there was no publisher or agent wringing their hands and asking for updates. (If only!) But it’s interesting to reflect on what happened.

Firstly, and most importantly, look where I ended up! I expected to write a novel of around 90,000 words, instead it came in at just short of 150,000. Mea culpa. It’s not quite fair to say the story got away from me. But it definitely had more life than I expected. I’ve heard the first draft of a novel called the exploratory draft, and I like that. I don’t heavily plot out my novels, so there is a significant amount of finding my way, and in that 150,000 there are definitely a few wrong turnings and cul-de-sacs that will need to be cut. The second draft will be shorter!

Then there is the starting point. I stopped in 2021 because the story wasn’t working. When I came back in 2023 I was naive to think I could just bash my way through the wall and carry on. Instead I spent a couple of weeks looking at the wall, taking down sections, removing bricks, so I could then march through. One week, instead of adding words to the novel, my net output was negative.

The plan had been to write from May to June with a little room for slippage. It was a reasonably quiet period, but once that period had passed life got busier. Holidays happened. Work happened. Life happened. In my job August-October is a particularly frenetic time and during that period there were four weeks when I did not add a single word to the draft. Actually, when I excluded the disrupted weeks I averaged a word count just under 6K, which would have meant if I had kept to the expected length, I would have completed the novel by the first week of July, as planned.

So clearly, it’s not my fault.

But obviously it is. All of it.

What happens now? Well obviously I hide it in a drawer and never, ever look at it again.

More likely, I turn my attention to other projects and then return to Caborn & Reeves in about 6 months to hack it into shape. But at least this time I’ll know what I mess I’ve got myself into.

#writing #richard farren barber #first draft

[vrnicky]

Finally... I present thee

All Jobs!

Sans- college teacher, science

Papyrus- carpenter (hobby) and architect

Blue- cop

Miere- muffet's bakery cashier

Rojo- mechanic

Cap/tain- chef and also culinary teacher

Orion- works in the planetarium but is also a sustitute teacher

Perseo- cop

Atlas- waiter in different restaurants

Orbit- secretary of the boss of the casino

Meteor- writes books, hides his image tho

Sirius- police officer

Zen- works in a restaurant, he makes the meals

Max- works in a restaurant, he makes the dessert

Odiseo- mechanic but more in the area of fixing bikes for people with disabilities

Hator- from home translator

Loan- works in the same restaurant as Zen and Max, he makes the meals

Nayer- works in the same restaurant as Zen and Max, he makes the desserts.

Azrael- library’s receptionist and translator

Deus- owner of the library, also the one to organize everything, books from his universe

Angelus- vet

Daimon- not a vet but works with Angelus, calming the pets

Astarte- blacksmith

Morpheo- cashier in a coffee shop

Bonnie- works in a casino, either guard or with paperwork

Clyde- doesn't have a main job in the casino

Shark- hitman

Gorilla- matón/bruiser

Patrone- security guard of the casino

Chief- head of the casino along the royals

Devonte- informant to the royals

Sargent- security guard of Iron, ex-mafia member

Wine- makes clothes, often in Black's store but makes his own designs

Coffee/Cofi- freelance artist, webtoon artist

Berry- lawyer

Money- candle maker

Black- manager of fashion store, mind behind the designs

Slim- fashion store, jewelry

Edan- daycare

Hans- animal shelter

Butcher- works at an antique shop as an employee by a nice old lady

Twister- doesn't work

Disco- dance studio, teaching kpop sometimes (forced)

Tango- dance studio, teacher of more traditional dances

Swing- waiter in a cafeteria

Regga- works in a dance school and as a DJ in the weekends

Caramel- owner of a bakery

Sweet- waiter or Caramel’s bakery

Vino- full-time model

Cappuccino- full-time artist, sometimes anonymous modeling

Lur- owner of the market in the farm district

Farren- he harvest everything for the market while also taking care of his animals

Vega- mailman of the neighborhood and carpenter

Carrot- beekeeper

Nicte- foreman

Balam- horse tamer but also a furtive hunter

Garo- forestry and floriculture

Bosco- woodcutter

Sugar- vet

Cherry- doctor

Lemon- dog herd

Lime- soil and plant scientist

CC- agricultural engineer

PJ- winemaker

Gent- General surgeon

Lupin- college teacher, physicist

Aloe- head of the department of chemistry

Lion- mathematician

Cempa/súchil- Quantum control, annealing and computing. Mathematician.

Velvet- Fashion and interior design (hobby). Nature preserve ranger.

Allen- flower shop

Bliss- freelance painter

Nolan- in the police as a detective

Eros- model

Phew, long text

#taco writes! #undertale #undertale headcanons #undertale imagines #imagine headcanons #my headcanons #underswap #Underfell #outertale #outerswap #outerfell #dancetale #danceswap #swapfell crystal #swapfell purple #fellswap red #fellswap gold #fellswap wine #mafiatale #mafiafell #mafiaswap #mafiaswapfell crystal #farmtale #farmswap #farmfell #outerfarm #dancefarm #gasterfarm #tons of aus #worldbuilding!

[silv3reyedstranger]

19. “you seemed a little off on the phone." for supercorp please :)

“Kara, darling, what’re you doing here?” Lena swivels around in bemusement.

Kara breezes into her office, a vision in her slick new suit and windswept gold curls, smiling sheepishly, “You seemed a little off on the phone.”

It’s true—there’s a tired slump to Lena’s shoulders that hadn’t been there earlier in the day and her desk is a far cry from the orderly state it’s usually in; warm, strong hands hover over Lena’s shoulders in silent question and she acquiesces with a barely stifled sigh.

“Bad day?”

Lena hums, a beat passing before she turns to press a kiss to Kara’s knuckles, “You’re my favorite, you know that?”

#i probably didnt count to 5 properly but hopefully you dont care that much lmfao #also grammar who’s she i dont know her #thank you so much for the ask! #i had a lovely time writing this #ask farren #farren writes #supercorp

[k-wame]

Eamon Farren as Cahir & Bart Edwards as Emhyr 2023 • The Witcher • S3·EP3 • dir. Gandja Monteiro

#i mean it writes itself! #the witcher #thewitcheredit #the witcher netflix #eamon farren #bart edwards #cahir x emhyr #homoeroticism #beautiful men

[druidx]

Snippet 1 from Elowyn Investigations

CW: Stabbing, blood, near-death of a main character This raw, unedited, plot-holey snippet from Elowyn Investigations is to provide context for a later chapter of Her Countenance was Light. Tagging HCWL list: @aquadestinyswriting, @hannahcbrown, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster

We arrived at Rowbottom's house, the front door still ajar from where he'd fled, I suppose. "Where is she?" I asked, drawing my nightstick. "Under the stairs," he whispered, hiding behind me. "All right, stay here," I said. He nodded mutely and I entered the house. The stairs ran from the middle of the reception hall, and I padded around the side. The door was closed though, and I frowned, before realising this building had more than one story. I silently cursed myself; I should have asked which set of stairs he'd meant. But no matter, I'd just have to go check the next level. I cautiously went up the stairs, treading carefully to avoid making them creak, and listening hard. Halfway up, I heard a slight scuffing sound, and paused, hardly breathing. I stood for a long while, but when no further sounds came, I carried on, reaching the top of the stairs and coming onto the landing. It was dark up here, and I was having trouble seeing. Clouds obscured the moon, and no lamps had been lit. I looked around. The landing bent left, curling around on itself, and a small hatchway led from it. My heart scudded in my throat. I reached for the handle, but before I could touch it, I felt the delicate touch of sharpened steel against my throat. I froze. The sense of a body behind me. Breath against my ear. "I give you this one warning: stop looking, Watchman." I swallowed, carefully. "What if I don't?" I asked, shifting the nightstick to lay along my arm into a defensive position. "Then you get to meet your maker," the voice hissed. I felt the blade at my throat withdraw and took my chance. I spun to the right, blocking the figure behind me. They gave a wordless cry and parried my blow. I tried to step away as they thrust at me with a second blade, but my back hit the wall. The dagger skittered off my badge, where it lay on my heart, and sank instead into my arm, slipping neatly between the leather shoulder plates. I cried out, instinctively gripping the wound. My assailant let go, clearly considering the blade not worth the effort of retrieval. I dropped to the floor, as my assailant turned tail and ran.

Blood bubbled from the wound, and I stared at it. I'd not been stabbed before, nor seen such a wound since the Demon Wars, eight years earlier. Keep the blade in, I heard Alexis telling me. If you ever get stabbed, and have the option, the blade stays in so you don't bleed out. I was suddenly aware of a high-pitched keening sound and then realised with a start that was me. I had to get help. I needed help. I wanted my legs to move, but they wouldn't. There was a crashing from below. I jerked out of my pain and panic induced catatonia. The gnome! He was still downstairs, what if… I struggled to my feet, and lurched forward, only just keeping my balance. "Elo!" I heard someone calling, desperate as I felt. "Elo!" I fell against the bannister. "Here!" I called back, feeling light-headed. I closed my eyes for a moment, then there was the crash of someone kneeling down near to me. I jerked awake, blinking in the light of a lantern. "Oh piss and blood, Elo!" Farren cursed, taking a look at me. I blinked sleepily at him. "Oh, no, no no!" he grabbed my face in his whole hand and shook it. "Don't you dare! Stay with me!" He slapped me, and I came alert. "Stay with me!" he shouted, then he was tying something around my arm, above the wound, twisting it so tight it hurt more than the blade. "You stupid girl!" he was saying. "You should have waited. Sindla save you; you never go anywhere alone!" "The gnome…" I warbled. "What gnome?" he asked. "What are you even doing here?" "Rowbottom…" "Was nowhere outside," Farren said. "Piss and blood, I need to get you to the Hedge. You need a proper healer for this. Come on." He scooped me up like a child, then we were outside, running through the damp night air.

Light blazed into my eyes as we burst into the Watch-house. "I need the Hedge!" he yelled above me, and in the light, I saw his brown eyes shimmering with water. "Oh Telak," I heard someone curse. "She's not here, she went home hours ago!" "Take her to Snips!" someone else said, and we were moving again, the air getting colder as we descended into the Tombs. "What the devil are you- ah!" I heard the goblin say. "What happened?" "She's been stabbed. Help her," Farren said. I felt the solidity of stone suddenly beneath my back, and knew he'd dumped me on the autopsy table. "I don't deal with live ones!" Snips protested. "Take her to Matilde! Take her to the Hedge." "The Hedge isn't here!" Farren snapped. "By whatever gods you believe in, I swear to them I will do you great harm if you do not help her, you snivelling cur!" "Yes, yes, alright," Snips said. "There's no need for name calling." I heard him shuffle over, and a moment later his long pointy green nose filled my vision. "Hello Elowyn dear," he said conversationally, working to remove my armour, his quick fingers unbuckling the straps for the shoulder plates, and down the side of my torso. "I do quite beg your pardon at this intrusion but I need to get to the wound site, and well, your armour is in the way. Farren, a hand." I felt Farren's clumsier human fingers pulling at the strap across my chest that secured my badge of Office, and the shoulder straps on the opposite side. "I'm sorry Elo," I heard him murmur as I passed in and out of consciousness. "This is… I'm sorry." He levered me up, and I whimpered as between them they pulled off the leather torso armour. I felt thin goblin fingers on my arm, and whimpered as Snips poked and prodded. The goblin's nose came back into view. "I'm afraid this is really going to hurt quite a lot. One of your arteries has been struck, and you are going to bleed out, unless I cauterize the wound. This is, unfortunately for you, the quickest way to deal with it. Farren, I need your belt," he said and looked across me. In a moment, a nasty strip of leather was being put to my mouth. "Bite down dear." I did as I was told, and Snips vanished from my vision. My eyes started to close again. I was so tired. Farren slapped me again. "Hey! No! No sleeping on the job. C'mon girly, let me see those green eyes." "Farren, hold her down," Snips said, somewhere to my left. I couldn't see what he was holding, but I felt Farrens hands pressing down on my slim shoulders. Snips gripped the handle of the dagger. "I'm really very sorry about this my dear," he said and wrenched the blade out. That hurt, but then I felt his hand on my wrist and a searing agony as something was pressed against the raw flesh of the wound. I screamed through the leather belt and tried to buck myself away, but Farren and Snips held me tight. For an eternity that must only have been a few moments, it was just me and the burning pain, flaring in my head like a white light. Then the pain dimmed, the flare went out, and I flopped back, trying to remember how to breathe. "Don't let her go just yet," Snips said, and vanished from sight again. "I still have to clean what's left," he said, coming back. Farren pressed hard down on my shoulders again. And there was another sear of pain, as Snips wiped something cold and damp over my arms. I cried out again, whimpering more this time, and flopped back. "There, bug, it's over," Farren said, releasing my shoulders and stroking my hair. I saw him look at Snips. "That's it right?" he asked. "She'll be okay now?" The goblin nodded, grim. "She'll live," he said, rubbing his hands on something. "Put her to bed now, she'll need rest." Farren nodded, and I felt myself rise again. "Wait," I murmured, tapping Farren on the chest. "Wait." He looked down at me. "Evidence," I said. Farren looked at Snips. "Bag the blade, would you?" my partner said, instantly understanding me. "I'll send someone down for it."

#oc elowyn o'toreguarde #oc farren breakwood #npc grog snickersnip #writing #fighting fantasy #titan fighting fantasy #wandering words

[bubblytarts]

My side project that is rapidly taking over my brain space!

Farren (he/she/they/xey) - the character on the right - is a winged elf created by me and a bunch of friends as a group project! They want to explore the multiverse and meet as many people as possible. She keeps a notebook of everyone's stories, which is never far from her side!

Until Ozymandias (he/him) - the character on the left - shows up. No one knows where he came from or what he wants, but he has a magic pen that can alter reality as he writes, and he seems dedicated to altering the stories of Farren's friends.

I've been writing a story with the two of them as antagonist and protagonist, and their dynamic is so important to me.

Farren believes xey can fix him :)

#the rise of ozymandias #farren #ozymandias #my oc #my art #my writing

[antsyandpantsy]

one more post bc I don’t wanna wait to post this as well ngl aksndn

splatoon doods (aka agent headcanons? ocs? idk):

here’s Ezra (Captain 3) and Farren (Neo Agent 3)

and ima write the notes here bc my handwriting sucks:

Upper notes: “I like to think the two were quite tense towards each other. Ezra thought of Farren as unsafe (bad influence, i just didn’t write that), mostly just worried for Marlo (masc neo 3, which Farren and Berry (8) took in) Farren felt as she was stepping on egg shells, and added on top of that was the fact Ezra is Farren’s Captain. After a heart-to-heart, they realized how similar they were and began to get closer

Lower: TOP SURGERY GIRLIE (girlie in the most non-binary way possible) <— takes low dose of T, like very low dose <— more of a maybe?

thennn

more Marlo and Farren!!! I like to think they became rlly good friends after the Splatoon 3 campaign. Farren just drags Marlo everywhere, being as chaotic as he always is while Marlo just goes along.

gonna also makes tags for these goons now bc why nottt

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #splatoon 2 #agent 8 #agent 3 #neo agent 3 #splatoon agent 8 #splatoon agent 3 #splatoon neo agent 3 #ezra (captain 3) #berry (agent 8) #fanart #art #splatoon art #octoling #agent 24 #berry (8) #farren (neo 3) #marlo (neo 3)

[faceless-mirror]

Chapter 1: Strings That Bind

Ship: Hozier and Farren(ONBC)

Andrew and Farren have been traveling through the centuries. Andrew remembers each time, when each of their times together ended in horrible tragedy. Farren never remembers, but their hearts call to each other in every life time, even if it brings pain. Andrew is breaking now, just needing one happy ending where they don't die crushed to death- sacrificed to old gods- hunted for their love- or torn apart in battle.

All he wants is to have Farren and live in peace. Hopefully, the Gods will grant mercy at last for his past transgressions that led to this cycle.

Taglist: @rowanballard @likehipsters @darkcloverme @holy-shitposting

(If you'd like to be added or removed please let me know)

Red hair splayed out on the pillow behind his head as his eyes followed the moving red strings above him. Andrew had grown up with all his memories of his previous lives, whether it be a gift or a curse from the gods, it wasn’t clear. However, seeing all the red strings that connected others to their soulmates, platonic or otherwise, had remained the same in each of his lives. Laying in the bunk thinking about the past, he couldn’t help but sigh, touching his chest where the silver thread that came from his heart was. The thread was shimmery and soft under his fingertips, closing his eyes. 

If someone is listening, let me find them again. Please… just one happy ending for us…

It was a silent wish. Pleading to the heavens, and to all the deities lost and found, earthy green eyes watering at the memory of how their lives were cut short previously. The blood, the horror, the confusion- wrapping around them tightly, holding them as tight as he could as they both perished trapped.

A soft breath left his lips as he lifted the thread, tugging on it lightly, hoping they would feel it… that they would know he was thinking of them even if they couldn’t see the strings as he did. 

I’ll find you, no matter how long it takes. 

He got out of the bunk, calmly, sitting up and moving to write words welling up with melodies. He knew sleep would not be visiting him for a few more hours, thoughts of them too heavy on his mind. As always, if he thought too hard about them, all the words he couldn’t wait to tell them, and all the past heartbreak would flood back. So much love for them flooded his mind and heart, filling him with desperate longing. Even if all his songs ended up being nothing close to love songs in lyrics, in some way they were his longing and wishes for it to work out. 

No matter. This life would be different. It had to be.

Halfway across the country, Farren was just getting home, exhausted from work and everything in between. They slumped into their sofa, falling face first into the cushions, blue and black hair shimmering in the low light as they yelled into the plush cushion. They didn’t bother moving, getting up, after their scream was done, just laid quietly for a bit longer until they heard a voice.

“So… are you just gonna lay there and force me to sit on your head or are you going to move because I’m holding a hot bowl of ramen and I don’t feel like burning my hand any longer than i need to-” their roommate claimed, leaving the kitchen to walk to the sofa and coffee table. The threat had the desired effect, at least getting Farren to sit up.

Celia sat down setting her bowl down as she did, “Work that bad?” she asked, brushing back a strand of messy blonde hair, glancing at their exhausted roommate. 

“Yes! How did these people make it to adulthood?” they demanded with a frustrated scream waving their hands for a moment before hiding their face in their hands.

“They made it by sheer dumb luck-” Celia answered calmly, taking a slurp from their still-too-hot bowl, nearly screaming as they tried to cool it down any way they could.

Farren smiled slightly, leaning their head back stormy eyes closing for a bit as they breathed. “I’m just tired of people being dumb…” they sighed, getting up to change out of their uniform, if it could be called that. It was a low-cut black shirt, and tight jeans that were nothing but discomfort. It worked well for the club but the clothes were the last thing they wanted when they were off work. 

“Did they at least tip you?”

“Of course they did- Why wouldn’t the idiots tip the bartender with their tits out?” Farren called with a sigh, changing into something more comfortable, a breathable flannel and pajama shorts. They shot Celia a smile, going to the kitchen to grab a few cheese sticks. It wasn’t much but at least it was something. 

Celia watched as they curled up in the corner, “Any chance you’re going to make it to the concert?” 

“Doubtful.” they answered softly, “But that’s okay. I can’t justify spending that much on tickets.” 

“You always say that- unless it's like some tiny band at a bar-”

“Hey. Fifteen dollars versus a hundred is a massive difference- and I get to be right against the stage- and hang with the band-” Farren countered, visibly offended at the statement, hand pressed to their chest in mock horror.

“Fine- Fine-! Good points… but still. He’s been your favorite for a long time and he’s finally touring again-”

Farren held up a hand to stop their companion’s ramblings that they had heard dozens of times through the month already. “I know. But… I can’t afford it. And I would have to spend almost four hundred dollars by now to get a single ticket- I’m fine without going.”

In all honesty, they would love to attend. But it felt wrong to attend, something keeping them from attending. Something rooting them in place. They didn’t know yet, but their gut had never once steered them wrong. 

A few more hours passed, before they made their way to their room and opened their computer to check and see if any of their applications to bartend elsewhere had been taken. Or any of the artist positions had reached out. A few emails from clients, demanding their projects be done sooner- all the same it felt like. Nothing new. Sinking back into their computer chair they yawned covering their mouth to hide their yawn. There was a new job listing, asking for an artist for a mural at a concert venue. The same venue was looking for a bartender, to work specifically backstage. Taking a chance Farren applied, sending in their portfolio without much thought. It was like screaming into an endless void some days.

They had the next day off, they would be able to work on their art and get some things out before their next shift. Hopeful at the very least for that income, they closed their laptop, and turned into their bed, collapsing into a deep sleep filled with flashes of green and life, sunlight and hope. 

A few flashes of a face but not much more, it had always been the same ever since they were small. Sometimes there would be fire, rage, pain, and terror. All their dreams seemed to line up and help them with their art so at the very least they were grateful for that.

#hozier fanfiction #hozier x onbc

[modmad]

This is probably a little silly but I really wanted to send a message to say thank you for creating amazing art and keeping at this blog for years, and being such an inspiration to me and probably hundreds of other artists. I started reading TPOH and following your blog when I was a teenager and was obsessed and loved it SO much (we've actually met, once. My name is Farren and when I was seventeen in 2013 I think, don't hold me to the year lol I can't remember for sure, I made an RGB costume and met you at MCM expo in London - You were dressed as Mary Poppins I think. I was definately very socially awkward and felt like I was meeting a celebrity at the time lol). I have one of the signed first volumes of TPOH still on my bookshelf, sort of tatty from wear now. Back then I wanted to be an artist so much but school had sort of killed my love for it and I was a bit directionless. The effect of having a professional artist online in a space I shared, and the informality of it - the way you did your own personal work and had worked with animation companies working on communal projects and also did fanart, it took away the very dull, serious, intimidating view I had of the art industry, gave it a more informal, human face - and inevitably it inspired me to go to art school. I'm now a professional illustrator and write and illustrate kids books, I've had seven published, both fiction and non-fiction so far, and I'm loving it. Teenage me never would have considered that drawing silly, goofy things and writing funny little stories could be a career, young me never would have dreamed I could have a job doing something like my idols did. I'm so greatful for the inspiration you gave me back then, and I'm still keeping up with TPOH and being inspired by your work now, and I know there's hundreds if not thousands of other people out there in the same boat. It's a little out of the blue to send a message now so many years on; I don't even have a tumblr these days. But I discovered recently that my little cousin wants to go to art school because of me, and I thought it funny how inspiration works. I wonder what she'll grow up to create, and who she'll some day inspire to go into the arts - and how long the legacy of inspiring others will go even long after we've passed. It reminded me to come and say thank you for letting me be a part of that chain.

a) YES I REMEMBER YOU

b) SEND ME A DM

#thank you for this! what a wonderful message! #and CONGRATULATIONS #HMU DUDE??? #at least send me a message I can reply to man I gotta gush and find out about your books!