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spicy-pears · 7 months

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𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖉 𝖒𝖆𝖓

warnings: forceful smut.breeding/impregnation.stalking.biting??(okay he may have tried to eat you). sexual vulgarity.over stimulation.branding.torture?

Pairing: Johnny slaughter x Female reader. [Sorry Leland lovers, maybe sometime this spooky season]

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: 1-𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚. 2-𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑹𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔. 3-𝑬𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒔.[WIP].4-𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍'𝒔 𝑭𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 [WIP].

Word count: 3k

[Thanks for stopping by! This is my very first smut post. So all likes and critique are truly appreciated❣️]

𝙹𝙾𝙷𝙽𝙽𝚈'𝚂 𝙿𝙾𝚅

"Good night! Or should I say good morning, Austin Texas! It's officially 12:00 am. August 29. We got some good news for you guys tonight-" the radio turned off abruptly with the rough turn of the dial, causing it to harshly click. The car became eerily silent, And time began to stand still. Johnnys gloved hand tightly gripped his steering wheel. head held down deep in thought, while his jaw began to clench. His tense body showed a man deep in battle with himself. His sharp inhales and deep rumbling exhales, reminiscent of a hungry animal or beast. His mind slowly being engulfed with a fuzzy, static, ringing sound. A sound that drowned everything else out, a sound that let him know he needed to hunt.

His dark eyes studied the blood-stained cloth, firmly held in his right hand. He tried his best to settle the unrest inside his mind and body. But finally gave into his loud flagrant desires. Bringing the cloth to his face, he took in the distinct scent of his new obsession. The hint of your natural sweetness, the lingering smell of your perfume, and the distinct copper signature of your blood. All of this together brought him into a high, causing his needy cock to harden and throb. his eyes grew endlessly dark with hunger. His breath now in the rhythm of a heated pant as he pulled away from the cloth.

After maria, he made sure to be careful. He didn't take you home right away, he wasn't going to lose another. He waited and played his cards right. By dating your hopeless friend, getting closer to you without notice. He managed to snag your beloved charm bracelet, a photo of your beautiful doe eyes and sweet smile, and now your blood. Unfortunately collecting and waiting was over. You were now in a perfect position for him. And he surely didn't give a damn about your loving fiancé. There you stood, in the dark. Your eyes dashing to see the source of each unexpected sound. While you held your bleeding hand waiting and waiting for your friends. They won't be back any time soon, he made sure of it.

AUGUST 29, 1988 TIME: 12:30 AM

The humid Texas air was slowly getting to you. You started to feel the time flying by. And with the passing moments, the texas night heat only grew stronger. Letting out an anxious huff, you battled with your better senses. You know you should sit still and wait for the girls to come back. But you felt uneasy, as the men coming into the bar had a open view of you. They gawked, whistled, and even took second and third glances while walking by. You began to feel like a rabbit in an open field. While Ignoring the male bar goers as best as you can. You noticed a figure standing 10 feet from you, gaining your full attention. It stood in the back alley of the bar, where the light didn't reach. You couldn't tell who it was or what they were doing, but after you stared for a little while longer. The figure titled its head mockingly. letting you know this wasn't delusion or Texas heat, this was reality.

You tried to swallow down the fear bubbling up, but your dry throat made it impossible. Your hand began to tremble lightly. You knew the hotel was a block and a half away,if you ran. You could try to page someone, but your pager was in friend's missing bag. As you quickly cycled through your mind, you felt hope wash over you. Your fiancé always gave you a switch blade for outings, which you thankfully kept this time. Frantically you began to search for it, feeling on its holster that wrapped around your thigh. Suddenly you heard it, "switch!", your knife being flicked open. Your eyes slowly looked up with dread,watching the figure waving at you with your knife in hand.

Then it all clicked, the only person close enough to take it, was johnny. Refusing to let him get you easy, you nodded at his shadowy figure. And without wasting a second you turned around and took off for the hotel. Last you saw of him; he took off stalking into the wooded area amongst the trees. While you decided to run down the clear sidewalk under the streetlights. You didn't scream, you didn't cry, you saved your energy for running. Your legs felt heavy, feet started to feel numb, and your chest ached from it pounding with each stride. You felt safe following the streetlights and sidewalk, until there were no more. Before you faced the wooded area of a park, an area with no trail, no railing, and no intention of life traversing. You knew by cutting through the park. The hotel would be closer for you to reach.

Hearing branches snap, dry leaves shuffle, and rustling bushes drawing near. you cared nothing for the concept of caution and ran into the wooded area.

If only you were more cautious.

Realizing pretty quickly the area you bravely ran into, turned into a downwards slope. You carefully tried slowly traversing down the slope sideways. Regardless of how careful you were, all footing was quickly lost. under the soft, muddy leaves, and dew-covered grass. With no control of your body, you began to slide down quickly into a full body tumble. Plunging down the slope, for what you felt was 8 feet from the ground. Your back finally collided hard with a tree at the bottom of the uneven slope. The forceful collision caused an audible coughing fit from the pain and exhaustion of your lungs.

"Tsk, what a damn shame... here I thought you were a tough one. I must admit you put up a good effort. None of the other girls ran as fast nor far as you did. Oh! I assure you!" Johnny would crouch down next to his prey and chuckled at your pain. While you laid there pathetically, he took out his harvesting blade. And with a quick snap of his wrist your dress came clean off. Leaving you bare to him and the low rolling night breeze. "You know, I thought your fiancé would have been somewhat smart. Being a cop and all...obviously not a good one. I was on your trail, during every little moment of your trip." His taunts continued. Quickly and clumsily, you tried to collect your tattered dress. Your effort proved to be of little use, with the shredded mess. "Hell, I think I know more about you than he does. Born in New Orleans green eyes like your mother, but sure do have your fathers' spirit." He got up following close as you writhed in pain. Pathetically crawling away from him, attempting to hide your naked frame from his gaze. He observed how weak you became, relying on all of strength left in your fingertips and arms. Johnny cruelly pressed his foot against your injured and bruised back. Stopping all pathetic attempts then and there.

While you laid there it became painfully clear, that you were dealing with a psychopath. A handsome face, scars excused as the marks of a hard-working farm hand. Staring you excused as shyness, every red flag you foolishly excused for your friend's happiness. Realizing what he was, you devised your survival plan. They say killers hate rejection.so you'll accept every kiss,every touch, even fall in love if needed be; you were going to live.

He suddenly took his foot off your back, his footsteps growing faint, yet petrifingly close. Snatching this opportune time, you continued to crawl away. He watched you from afar, with a assumed expression. Spending your time crawling to nowhere, johnny patiently bided his time. For the warm orange flame flickering under his eyes, was just picking up. So caught up in your hopeful efforts, and devising your plan. you missed the lingering trail of smoke. You carelessly disregarded every firey sign of inpending torture, and you were going to pay for it dearly.

"oh no? leaving already?" johnny's tone was filled with mocking empathy. No matter how hard you tried, your effort didn't get you far. With a few steps, Johhny was above you again. Once again his smothering foot met your back. leaning down, he purposely put his weight onto your weak back. "Boy, aren't you a sweet sight? I'd hate for you to run off one day, but if you do. let's make sure a kind soul can bring you back home.". His words were purposely vague, he could feel the confusion swirling and sinking heavy in your stomach. In his hand held a brass "J" branding iron, that your poor eyes didnt notice.

A harsh stinging slap to your ass, caused your body to jolt forward under Johhny's boot. your teeth gritted in pain, as it eased into a stressed exhale. only a second of peace was given to you, before your eyes widen with hot tears. Burning heat plunged into the flesh of your hip, seeping down to the bone. As the sensation raised up to your chest, your mouth opened to let out a shrill agonizing scream. before it could ring through the night air, Johnny's hand met your mouth. Quickly choking out your heart-rendering cries. Over stimulated with pain, your body begged for rest. He smirked as your body fell limp, your chest softly heaving with shock.

What have you done to earn this nightmare? you were raised as a church girl. Maybe you partied a bit too hard to be considered devout. But you were still a virgin, attended every sunday service, and treated everyone with love. How were you now prey to the, "bad man" Infront of you?. In your fog, you yearned to look into the eyes of the man towering before you. The night sky and lazy clouds swallowed all light, not a single star nor the moon was shining for you. Deep down without making out his face, you just knew johnny was grinning with hunger. "Hey there! "He suddenly come face to face with you. His hands firmly grasping your wrists. You saw his face clear as day now. The sadistic yet playful smile on his face, coupled with the gentle caressing of your cheek. Brought to you a uneasy sense of comfort.

"Don't cry sweetheart, ill try to make this quick." He closely observed your eyes, for any signs of opposition. you never seen a man nor animal, With such endlessly devoid eyes in your life. Johnny chuckled at your mindless deer in head lights expression. He brought his thumb to you bottom lip, feeling the delicate plush of it. Soft grazes became harsh once he grasped your chin, yanking your head up to his attention. His thumb no longer gently tracing, it now pressed hard against your lip in a rough pinch. Suddenly your haze lifted, you began to realize your position. Your head moving around, taking in your helpless environment.

Your frantic display of fear brought out a deep groan of pleasure out of johnny. The groan trailed off into a deep sadistic chuckle. That almost drowned out the soft bell like sounds of his unbuckling belt. A growl rumbled deep from his chest down to your stomach. He perched himself on your mid-section to stop any attempt of escape, encasing your small frame between his knees. With each squirm you caused his body to rock and grind against you. lighting would strike you down, if you said you didn't like his hard length throbbing against your skin. "Look, look at me!" He snapped at you. Your frightened efforts to not look at him, Slowly wore down his patience. His right hand which held your wrists together. Forced them above your head, he hadn't yet forgotten your wounded hand.

Maliciously his fingertips applied pressure on the fresh cut, the feeling made you swear his fingers were deep in your wound. which made your skin began to crawl with disgust. The Increasing pain caused you to cry out and arch back, in an attempt to get his weight off of you. He allowed you to arch your body, he reveled in how you moved for him. "Oh? Needy, aren't you? For a devout little church girl." He relished in teasing you, while his now bloodied fingertips traveled up your thigh. Finding purchase between your legs. Fingertips running up your thoroughly soaked panties, teasing your covered slit. Although his fingers were now coated in your sweet juice, He desired more from you. Suddenly, johnny's head become lost between your legs. He'd use is teeth to delicately pull your panties to the side, giving his fingertips free range to slowly push into your tight gummy entrance. He made sure to leave a intense fluttering sensation coursing up your spine. He leaned up to you, as you let out a soft moan. He parted his lips as yours did, letting out a pleased groan of his own. He took a moment to relish in your shameless state. Before grabbing the soaked lace mess and greedily ripping it off with little to no effort.

Your eyes widened as you tried to close your legs, hiding yourself as best as you could. "Oh sweetheart, don't tell me you don't want me to fuck you? With how wet you are?" His bare calloused hands gripped your thighs bruisingly tight, no longer caring what you do with your hands. Impatiently yanking your body down to meet his hips. His length throbbing against your pussy, as it radiated your heat covering his shaft with your slick. "I hate to tell you, but I have to fuck you now, since you begged and all" before you could even plea for him to stop or fight back. The air was taken out of your lungs, as you moaned out. Hot tears welled in your eyes. He pulled you down forcefully flush onto his cock, not caring you were unexperienced.

You watched his wild ravenous grin, as the strength of his hips made each thrust deeper and rougher than the last. He loved watching the tears roll from your eyes. Mesmerized by your moaning lips begging for his kiss. Johnny figured he'd give you this one kindness. Your soft moans would be choked out from you, as his large hand gripped your neck firmly. Bringing your needy lips to his, he gave you the passionate kiss you oh so desired. You found yourself running your fingers through his hair, which he hated. He began to smirk through the kiss and rewarded you with a keen vengeful bite to your bottom lip.

Your sweet blood, lingered on his tongue like liquor. Bringing him to a high, his thrusts grew needy and cruel. He lost himself, in the taste of you. Once he broke the kiss, you looked on at his shark like eyes in horror. Before you knew it, his hungry lips now wandered to your shoulder. A radiating source of your intoxicating perfume. Soft Fuzzy static began over take his mind, he knew what he wanted. And couldn't control his primal instincts. His body tensed, his muscles flexed and hardened, face buried deep into your neck hiding his internal struggle. He'd let out a animalistic grunt, a hopeless warning for you. A blood chilling scream rang from your weak throat. Johnny hungrily sunk teeth deep into your flesh. His mind now completely flooded with the roaring static. hearing your cries and french curses, faintly in the back of his mind.

"Fuuck!" johnny pulled himself out of his haze, his gaze darting to his left hand. Realizing he unknowingly took his knife out during the fog. Begrudgingly, he pushed his knife away from your body. Resisting the strong urge to kill you, atleast not yet. Instead he began to take in the sight of you. A broken mess, panting like a well fucked whore. He'd steady his position with his hand besides your head, now resting his weight on his arm. A frustrated whine echoed from your chest, demanding release. He felt your tight little pussy clench around him, your body ready to cum without his permission. His eyes glared deep into yours, his thrusts now mercilessly deep. greeting the very depths of you, abusing your cervix with his controlling strength. "You tight greedy whore-" He grunted, as you defiantly closed your thighs. Johnny smirked and decided not to go easy anymore. he pressed your thighs back against your chest. Thrusts bottoming out, as your core now ached against the girth of his length.

"J-...Johnny!" With the needy moan of his name. You finally broke, cumming on his thick punishing length. You began to tremble, as the wave rode through your body. You sweet inexperienced doll, you thought once you came it was over, not just yet. you began to stare down at the mess of your bodies, you watched as his cock stroked in and out of your gushing mess of a pussy. Mercilessly pumping out your cream, while your aching pussy wrapped around tight. carelessly you dared to drag your fingertips down his sweat covered torso, down to the base of his working cock. Luckily, he was too high off the feeling of his rushing edge, to punish your touch. His body pressed heavily on yours, he savored each sound your crying, messy body made. His body soon raised up again, his leaning head back getting a full view of you. Eyes sitting low, while his tounge wolfishly licked the dried blood off his smirking lips. You felt his fingertips digging deep into the plush of your ass. Which gave into his wake, bloody scratches and crescents from his nails adorning your ass.

"Take it! Take it!" His voice dripped with a carnal venom. His pace now sloppy against the twitch of his cock. Each twitch reminded him of how defiantly tight you were, not allowing him to stretch you even a centimeter more without a challenge. With a satisfied deep hiss, he claimed you. Filling your assaulted cunt with his hot thick seed. You panted with relief , Your body lightly trembled with each breath you took, until your nerves eased for him.

"Oh? sweet as a kitten now, aren't you?" he lazily pulled his satisfied cock out of you. He chuckled at your sweet face, before turning his attention to fixing himself up. Somewhere you found the strength to pull yourself up, weakly sitting on your tired knees. You began to admire the shape of his face, eyes tracing each scar, your chest fluttered at the mere presence of him. He didn't know what he was going to do with you, let alone a child. But that was the price to pay, he planned on selfishly keeping you as long as he could. His strong arms, carefully wrapped around your chest. Pulling you into his arms, practically cradling you like a feral kitten. "It's time to bring my prized catch home."

CHAPTER 1 END

Chapter 2 preview:

"Do you remember?"

Your eyes fluttered open, to the familiar melody. The upbeat romantic song that played during your wedding, bringing you a warm feeling of safety. The safety you cherished when you were finally found,finally free. But it was strange, your lazy eyes caught the time. 3:15 am, why would he play this so late?

"Do you remember how it all began?"

You remember your husband's disappointed confusion at his broken record player. Which now played eerily off key, deep and slow. Why would he play music on it now? Lazily your feet shuffled against the carpet. And unexpectedly met the soft rattle of your son's comfort blanket. Now Perplexed, you examined the small bat covered blanket. Abruptly, the flashing blue and white lights of your TV caught your full attention.

"I bet you remember, I bet you remember"

You felt the fear on your fingertips, as they glided against the wooden stair railing. Holding your breath, in a attempt to stop your heart from beating so violently. With each braved stair, your skin crawled with a stabbing chill that only increased. Untill you stopped half way, there he was. Your baby boy, being held by a shadowy stranger.

"Da-da!" The sweet babble from your baby boy, brought you so much dread. He could never piece his babbles into a clear "Pa-pa" or "Da-da", To your husband's dismay. But now sitting on the knee of a stranger, he joyfully rang out his new found word

The stranger leaned down, playfully shaking a teddy bear. While the baby sucked on his knuckles feeling truly entertained. Dark eyes slowly cut from him to you.

"Does mama remember me?" You knew that build, those eyes, and that damned intoxicating southern twang. With no more stairs to stall the inevitable, you now stood in Johnny's open veiw. You watched the corners of his mouth, curl into his signature devilish grin."Well, Hey there sweetheart!"

"Do you remember the time, when we first fell in love?"

#johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter x oc #johnny slaughter #tcm johnny #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm game #tcm smut

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snehithiye · 10 months

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sami salivates (recommending some vampiric vibes)

hello blood bags, it is time for season 2 of sami screams into the void about wips she's definitely insane for. I have bitten the inside of my cheek and i keep tasting blood, so in honour of my oncoming week of mouth ulcer pain, we're doing vampire recs! as always, if you think i've captured the vibes wrong or you'd just like your work removed, please just dm!

Project Honeymoon by @macabremoons evil vampires and deals with the devil?? highkey rumpelstiltskin folktale vibes! lots of trickery and an absolute treat

Saints of Nothing at all by @glam-pir okay we're going vampire vibes remember and nothing serves vampy campy like jennifer's body meets heathers in dark academia! i am seated and you should be too

Lethal Bloods by @maguayans is blood thicker than water? do you like your vampire horror served with a good ol' side of this family is cray-cray? this is the wip for you!

Sanguine Express by @faelanvance was this in my last recommendation post? yes. am i going to shut up about it until everyone who follows me checks it out? no.

Lonel by @tryingtimi wizards of waverly place season three finale selenators, have i got a treat for you hehehe. vampires vs werewolves hnnngh slay slay slaughter slurp blood NOT TO MENTION this also has bffs to lovers??? sold

#vampire #vampcore #vampirism #writeblr #fantasy writers #writeblr search #writeblr community #authors #bipoc writers #horror #fantasy #writing #dark academia #writeblr intro #other writers

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angelfishofthelord · 2 years

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30+ cas fics organized by season and type

for cas day i thought i'd finally make a post for allll my fics. yep even the ficlets. these are all cas-centric, focusing on cas and his pov and/or cas and his issues/relationships with different characters.

they're categorized by season and color coded as follows:

multichapter / oneshot / ficlet

s4 n/a

s5 sorrow atoms / while they are yet speaking / the book of luke

s6 between dusk and dawn

s7 just play along please

s8 n/a

s9 don't look away (from the arms of a bad dream) / you have no home not anymore / give your tears to the tide / i lost something in the hills

s10 rabbit hearted girl / you promised you would keep me safe / is it getting bad again / no light will touch your face again / you are a monster

s11 flowers in your hair / you are making everything harder than it needs to be / you know i'm not real / look at me (i exist i exist i exist) / (and heal) / the bible didn't mention us (wip)

s12 i have faith in nights / sea of blue or aztec gold / we're going to get out of here / i didn't mean that

s13 both saved and lost / i was left to die

s14 lamb to the slaughter / john dee and chocolate chip waffles / this isn't you / don't make me do this / every breath is sacred / you're safe now / can you help me / so what if i'm scared

s15 and post finale out of the dark / let it snow / an obesity of grief / i am covered in skin / my life is a song for you / you must know you are beloved / the unmaking / good tidings of great joy / wishing too hard for them to stay / we're at the end of the line / you're nothing like him / you were never free / i know what you did / i know you aren't coming back / you promised you would keep me safe

s4-15 sufficient for thee / what do you think you deserve

#i cant believe how many s15 fics i wrote #cas day #my spn fanfic #seraphcastiel #thisisapaige #feathersforcas #userda #usertabitha #usermoogs #bebecas #castyel #spxcekya #justcastiel #greatcometcas #userjeb #slipper007 #spn fanfic #cas fic

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teamdilf · 3 months

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Get to Know Me!

Tagged by @korblez, over here! Thanks!

Rules: Tag 10 or more people you want to get to know better

Fave ships: At this very moment, I've been really into Tav/Astarion, Tav/Karlach and I just started writing my Tav/Astarion/Karlach fic! I'm so stupidly excited about the OT3 fic, because Karlach is just SO exasperated with Petra and Astarion being completely unable to have one single adult conversation about their feelings. Like, they could have been making out and cuddling weeks before they sort their shit out in this universe.

I'm sort of perma-feral for Adrien Victus/Tullia Victus, and Castis Vakarian/Cecilia Vakarian - gotta give some love to my DILFs. 💜

Favorite color: Blue and purple - don't make me choose between them!

Song stuck in my head: I'm extremely on-brand at the moment and have A Letter To Georgia by The Airborne Toxic Event stuck in my head. Been feeling melancholy and it sort of fits my current frame of mind.

Favorite food: I'm really into charcuterie right now, so we'll go with that!

Last song listened to: Hero by Family of the Year. I was doing some writing over my lunch hour and I feel like that song has a real Astarion vibe to it, so I listen to it often while working on my current BG3 WIPs.

Last tv show/movie: My partner and I are watching the fourth season of Barry at the moment. We just finished White Lotus!

Spicy/sweet/savory?: I love all three so hard, so this is a mean question, but gun to my head I gotta go with sweet.

Currently reading: I've got A Cold and Unfamiliar Home by @thetrashbagswasteland on my to-read list at the moment! I'm reading Perfect Slaughter by Imagineitdear as well - perfect for anyone who is looking for a heavy read to cry the cobwebs out.

Last thing I googled: "Ivy hedge" because I was trying to come up with an OCs last name and my brown-thumbed ass wanted to make sure the name I had in mind would actually make sense.

Tagging: @westernlarch, @dr-paine, @writernopal and anyone else who wants to do this!

#ask games #Thank you!

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writingmoth · 19 days

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wip questionnaire

thanks @worldstogetlostin for the tag!!!

rules: answer as many (or as few) of the questions about your WIP as you can.

1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?

probably the concept of a god of the forest saving a villager from the wild hunt. i didnt have loifa or rowan created, mind, just the vague idea of a god interrupting mischievous fairies who were about to kill/kidnap/do gods know what to a village boy who made a very stupid mistake. the whole scene is now an interlude in fantasy romance wip.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

no clue, honestly. shout out to queen's deception from the destiny soundtrack though, it'd have a similar vibe.

3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

from fantasy romance wip? im risking being obvious here, but its between loifa and rowan. probably rowan, i think. the boy is just trying SO hard and loifa is just SO much to deal with. tbh he has older sister energy and i sympathize with that.

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

that's a very interesting question. my wip is mostly inspired by the fifth season and ffxiv, but in very different ways, so it's hard for me to say that ppl who liked both would like it. bc you know... fantasy romance wip is a romance (allegedly!)... and the fifth season and ffxiv aren't...

(well, ffxiv is if you try hard enough but)

let's say i wouldnt be surprised if someone who liked nettle & bone and the cruel prince also liked fantasy romance wip. id expect that person to be aroace and/or queer in some way though, ngl.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

the middle!!! and the length!! it's kinda bizarre just how much needs to happen and how i need to fit so much into a standalone and i still have no middle to speak of?? like how does that even happen

also, you know... the romance.... :(

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

lots of animals!! or beasts in general. good honest folk (cows, horses, sheep just minding their business and being slaughtered for no good reason by Things) and the mischievous crowd (carnivorous deer, three eyed owls, said Things), etc. no little guys to speak of so far, though.

7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

on foot. there are only like two horses left in the marrow (the village) and they are working horses, so they arent used for travel/getting around.

8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?

(through blood, sweat and tears) [the beginning of] the middle!!!!

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

weird magical forest + god/mortal relationship + tiny town/village energy + secrets + the aroace lens. basically.

10. What are your hopes for your wip?

id be very contented if i finished it honestly :(

tagging @i-can-even-burn-salad @treesandwords @duskforged @ anyone else who wants to try!!

#me: fantasy romance wip is a romance!! fantasy romance wip: :)#problem is i came up with fantasy romance wip before knowing romantasy was a thing #so now fantasy romance wip looks like a romantasy book in a wig and clown make up #it doesnt fit it but where else can it go!#my dusty google docs wip folder likely #fantasy romance wip #tag games

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cyruswrites · 1 year

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— ABOUT CYRUS;

hello! my name is Cyrus Novak, and I’m finally back from my year-and-a-half hiatus. wow, it’s been a while. I certainly didn’t mean to abandon tumblr for that long! but a lot of stuff happened, and life was simply chaos for a while. now that things have calmed down I’m excited to be back to my projects, and back to writeblr.

so! about me. I’m in my early thirties, I’m non-binary and transmasc, and my pronouns are he/him or they/them, no preference. I live in the midwest. I’m attempting to return to college to complete my degree, though in what, I’m still deciding.

some other fun facts!

I just adopted a syrian hamster. his name is Biscuit.

I’m currently reading Discount Armageddon by Seanan McGuire.

it’s nanowrimo season! and I am officially a nano rebel as of yesterday.

as I’m writing this it’s about 6 am, eastern standard time. I should be sleeping, because I’ve been up for most of the night.

oh well.

below the cut you can find my two current wips, both of which I am posting on wattpad.

— WORKS IN PROGRESS;

wolf & warden.

Tessa has been training to be a Warden for her entire life. As the last line of defense against the creatures of the night, Wardens are humans partnered with werewolves as the protectors of humanity. And at sixteen, it's Tessa's turn to find her wolf partner.

Micah is a werewolf, born with the ability to shift from human to wolf at will. He's one of the few born in captivity, raised and trained to fight humanity's enemies - vampires. But Micah has rejected every Warden who's tried to partner with him.

Until Tessa.

After her cohort is slaughtered on the day they were to become full Wardens, Tessa is ready to die. It's only her burning need for vengeance that keeps her going. And when the Crown herself assigns Tessa and Micah the quest of a lifetime, neither of them know what will come of it.

Because there's more to the story than either of them realize. And the only ones who hold the answers are their sworn enemies.

changeling.

When Joana and Jordan were seven years old, they followed a fairy into the woods and out of the human world.

Ten years later, they return to a place that doesn't feel like home, no longer the children who left their family behind.

As Joana flourishes in the human world, pleased to be back, Jordan wilts. She can't seem to get used to humans again, not even her mother and father and new little brother.

But what they think of the human world might not matter. Because fairies don't let their captives go that easily, and the faelands leave their mark.

#writeblr #writeblr introduction #writeblr intro #wip introduction #wip intro #amwriting #writing #writing community #wip // w&w #wip // changeling #mine

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glygriffe · 1 year

Text

First Sentence Game

I got tagged by @rauko-creates Thanks for including me in the fun! All my work here is Supernatural flavored.

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

Who's Lost Now (A Dean-centric crossover WIP between Supernatural and Doctor Who) Dean looked at the address and then at the surrounding townhouses. He was at the right place.

Saving Grace (A crossover between Dark Angel and Supernatural where Alec meets Bobby Signer) Alec was fed up with Max's crap. Ok, he was not a model employee at Jam Poney, but being a bike messenger sucked.

If I Could Do it Again (Angsty one-shot about Jody's family life) Jody Mills was a no non-sense kind of person with a lot of empathy. This combination of character traits made her a good sheriff and a great mom.

To Love and to Hold (Fluffy one-shot with TFW set in the bunker) “Look what I found just outside the bunker!” Sam could hear the smile in Cas' voice.

Pillow Talk (Family feels set in season 8) Sam switched the light off coming out of the washroom and saw his brother going into an empty chamber at the end of the corridor. He smiled, shook his head a little, and started in the same direction as Dean instead of going back to his own room.

Shades of Villains (Supernatural Drabble) Nothing annoyed Alastair more than to be compared to Azazel. The prince of Hell was a fanatic.

The Mahaha Hunt (Weechesters on a hunt gone bad) In the Colorado mountains, it was cold in winter, but rarely that cold. The Winchesters had the worst luck, as usual, and it happened that John was tracking a rogue Mahaha, with his boys in tow, in the most atrocious weather this county had registered since 1985.

Taking Care of Me (Sick ficlet involving Soulless!Sam) Dean is seeing double and sweating like a soon-to-be slaughtered pig. He feels like one, too.

This Old House (Young Dean being the man of the house) I don’t like the house Dad found for us to settle in. It's old, it creaks all the time at night and it’s drafty.

Happy Freaking Birthday (Stanford Era Dean) Dean got back in his car and closed the door with a sigh. That poltergeist was a nasty son of a bitch.

Tagging a few people. Play or nay.

@spnexploration @bobwess @deanwinchesterswitch @posingasme @thoughtslikeaminefield @verobatto @darynidia @amemipiacitu

#tag game #first sentence game #supernatural fanfic

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let-it-rip-bear · 10 months

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How’s the fic inspiration now with the return of season 2 hehe. I might be looking forward to them (And by might I mean definitely)

oh there's definitely even more material to work with. i fixated on carmy and his whole...yknow mess, and after watching season 2, it's like i get to see even more layers to his mental illness gemstone <3

i'm actively working on Oh The Lamb is Freshly Slaughtered, so don't worry about that being abandoned!! i'm also pecking away at another dark fic. i've got other ideas in my noggin too—some much fluffier plot bunnies. i would love to talk about my WIPs if anyone wants some teasers lol :3 or anything about The Bear fanfic!! (like, is there something you'd like to see more of in the tag, or even something you'd like to see less of, etc.)

even though there's plenty of inspo, i'm in a Weird headspace after s2, mostly because i turned 21 the day it came out.......so the experience of watching s2, which was insane enough on its own, was combined with several celebrations. and work. and a road trip. so i feel like my brain is a scrampled egg.

i REALLY appreciate everyone's wonderful comments on my fics <3 all of them have me like this

#asks #anon #heheh i was literally JUST thinking abt writing more when i get home from work!!!#ty for the ask you are so sweet :D

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sanguine-arena · 1 year

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all in a day’s work | misc drabbles #4

desc: As an equipment manager, sometimes, getting the stains out of the team’s jerseys after a game can be much harder than it needs to be.

cw: mild descriptions of blood, no major warnings

wc: 551

tags: @thetruearchmagos , @hottubraccoon , @elijahrichardwrites , @aquil-writes , @rsdan , @jezifster , @isherwoodj

All in a day's work.

That was the thought on his mind as he kept scrubbing at the mesh material of the bloody jersey he had in his hands. He sighed in mild exasperation as the faded red stain still stubbornly clung on for dear life. He could've sworn he'd been scrubbing at the damn spot for hours now, and he wasn't entirely sure that he'd made much progress.

He shook his head, setting the jersey and the damp rag he was using down to muse over a better way of doing this. He looked to the growing pile of others he had to get through before the night was up, probably about five or six jerseys strong by now. The game had ended hours ago for the players, but here he was, still grinding away at those pesky blood stains that never seemed to want to come out as easily as he'd expected them to.

Not helping things was the fact that the jerseys were dark gray, only a few shades off from black. It hit the perfect duo of inconvenience right on the head in the way that it was just light enough to show the blood stains from tonight's brawls in the first place but just dark enough for using bleach to be completely out of the question. He knew because he'd tested it already, and now had to pretend that the slightly faded spot on one of the sleeves didn't exist, or else his brain might've just shut down right then and there. He couldn't use it to get blood stains out on these sweaters, no matter how effective it probably would have been.

He ran the jersey under the cold tap water once more, hoping that maybe one more soaking of the material would loosen the stain up just enough to be willing to cooperate. His eyes stayed trained on the jersey as he gently moved it back and forth under the water, making one hundred percent certain that it was soaked through. He pulled it away seconds later, setting it back on his "work desk", as he liked to call it, laying it completely flat on its surface.

He took the bottle of peroxide that had been idly sitting there for the last twenty minutes, carefully drabbling it on the stain. He took the now dampened wash rag and wrung it out, starting to gently scrub at the stain. He slowly went in circles, squinting to try and get a better idea of what he was looking at up close. He continued on, repeating the steps a few more times in hopes that something, anything would shake out.

He hesitantly pulled the wash rag away, taking the treated material in his hands and pulling it closer to him. He squinted once more, picking at it as he meticulously made sure not a fibre was out of place. He sighed in relief, swaying a bit in his chair as he struggled to locate the stain now. He got to his feet, taking the jersey to the massive laundry machines he and his crew of other equipment managers had in the back room. He tossed it into the machine with every other dark garment already inside, leaving the door cracked.

All in a day's work, he thought.

#misc drabbles #drabbles/scraps #wip: slaughter season #writers on tumblr #original writers #writeblr #writeblr drabbles #i just wanted to write a small little piece about equipment guys. they have my whole heart #also just love the Vibe of this. yknow.

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limeskye · 1 month

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Will Trent Season 2 Title Cards (to date)

Will Trent Season 1 Title Cards here

#will trent #title cards #ramon rodriguez #karin slaughter #my gifs #willtrentedits #my edits #mine #betty the dog #betty trent #season 2 #s2 #2x01 #2x02 #2x03 #2x04 #wip #2x05

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bylightofdawn · 5 months

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WIP Sunday

Alas, I don't think I'm going to finish this fic today, my attention span has been shit for most of the day though I did manage to write this. It's kinda longer than is prolly necessary but I could not find a good place to break it up. Cahir is having a minor philosophical crisis and Gallatin continues to be a ride or die bestie who is probably the only thing keeping him sane at this point. Aside from that, no REAL story spoilers. I guess for context, Cahir had broken off from him in the forest to seek out a mage/hedge witch in hopes she might be able to assist him in breaking the curse. In order to facilitate that, she cut off a slice of his arm and got some blood from him. NGL I know nothing about magic in the Witcher universe but everything I've seen seems to have very much a something must be sacrificed in order to power the spell with a lot of entropy magic tossed in. And at least one of the curses we see in the show is based off of blood magic sooooo I'm just making shit up as go along.

EDIT: And I'm at 9K already so nope, definitely NOT going to keep this under 10K. I've also made th decision I am going to break this up into chapters if only because the Witcher fandom in general seems to have shorter fanfics and chapters. Posting a 5K or 6K chapter in Star Wars is nothing but I think I'll need to come up with making this a bit more palatable in shorter doses which honestly, thanks to the structure of this fic being intertwined scenes, I think will be pretty easy. -crosses fingers-

This was one of the poorer parts of the Cintran capital and people who had even a sliver of roof space were prone to keeping pigeons for meat animals. They took up less space than chickens or other barnyard animals, and the scent of them was prominent in the air.

Cahir was faced with the dilemma of whether or not he wanted to risk potential food poisoning by visiting one of the local ale houses or if it would just be smarter to go to a better-heeled part of the city. After some trial and error, he had found a vendor two streets over that sold reputable pigeon pies. The problem is, they were often busy and sold out by this time, but Cahir opted to take his chances.

The Great Sun was in his favor today because he managed to snag one of the remaining hand pies and a relatively quiet place to eat in peace. When he’d been a small boy, before the Usurper ruined his childhood by arresting and locking away his father and older brothers, Cahir would have never had something so pedestrian as a pigeon hand pie.

Still, since the fall of his family during the reign of the Usurper, Cahir had eaten far worse things than pigeon pie. There’d been a time when he’d been literally starving where he’d have done anything for even the burnt crust of a leftover pie.

That was before the White Flame had found and rescued him from the worst pits of Hell and had given him a purpose. He’d anointed him, molded him into the perfect soldier and finally a commander of his army and Cahir had repaid that kindness with a devotion that bordered on zealotry.

He’d learned to stop asking questions, deeming all violent mayhem and bloodshed even if it seemed utterly unnecessary was required. As a boy who had lived through one Usurper’s reign and grown up to hate and eventually overthrow that regime he knew how dangerous it was to leave a crop of angry youths the room to grow into angry men and eventually kill you.

Or at least, that was what Emhyr had told him and Cahir had accepted it as gospel truth.

For nearly fifteen years, he had eaten up everything the White Flame had told him without question. He had committed some truly heinous actions, like the wholesale slaughter of towns that dared to resist the might of the Nilfgaardian Empire.

Yet at time went on, the voice of conscience had steadily gone quieter. There were times when it still bothered him but those times had become less frequent. Older soldiers he met had claimed that was signs of a seasoned campaigner. And that good soldiers followed orders because they only have a micro-view of the battle.

Making sense of the bloody arithmetic of war was up to the generals and commanding officers. They had the vision to recognize that the slaughter of ten dissenters would prevent a hundred more from getting any ideas of rebellion. And in doing so, a thousand lives might be saved.

When Cahir had risen through the ranks, those choices had fallen into his shoulders and he’d made them with the same bloodless dispassion he’d witnessed from the White Flame and it has mostly served him well.

Still, he’d found himself becoming more and more disillusioned throughout this seemingly endless campaign and even more so since he’d been stuck in this hellish reality of being forced to replay the same day over and over again.

For the first time since he’d been a starving whelp, he’d begun to question his place in it all. He still wanted to find Princess Cirilla, believed in the pit of his bones he was destined to find and rescue her.

At first, it had been with the intention of delivering her to her rightful father, but lately…lately he was no so sure of that. The nightmares and dreams he had of her foretold of a terrible fate if she was delivered to the White Flame’s hands.

He didn’t know why he accepted that so readily but it felt so real and more like a prophetic vision than the troubled nightmares of a troubled mind that now Cahir did not know what he would do when he found Cirilla.

Of course, until he figured out how to break this damned curse, there wasn’t much he could do.

“Do you know how fucking long I have been searching for you? And here you are just eating and wiling away the day like it is nothing.” That familiar pissed off voice dragged him from his maudlin thoughts and Cahir was not surprised. Gallatin had found him in this place more than once.

Maybe a part of him had subconsciously sought out this space because he knew the elf would find him here. Cahir broke half of the pie and held it out to Gallatin without a word.

The black-haired elf’s nostrils flared with irritation and he reached out to grab Cahir’s arm in a tight grip. “Chaos take you, Cahir!”

Cahir could not contain the hiss of pain that escaped him when Gallatin managed to grasp him right over the bandages mostly hidden by his sleeve as pain licked up his arm like fire.

Gallatin was many things, but unobservant wasn’t one of them, and he immediately moved his grip down so that he could catch the man’s wrist in a much gentler touch. It was a minor miracle Cahir managed to keep his grip on the pie. “Do you mind?”

“What have you gotten into now?” The other man demanded as he shoved the man’s sleeve back to reveal the pink-tinged bandage.

“It’s nothing to be concerned with.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you very much.” The elf said tartly and frowned at the bandages.

“It’s a minor injury, and as you can see, it has been addressed adequately.

“What happened Cahir?” There was a strange note in Gallatin’s voice, one which Cahir could not quite parse.

“I’m cursed, I sought out the help of a witch in order to find a way to break said curse.” The brunette finally confessed quietly. “Grab a seat and I’ll explain as best I can.”

By this point, he’d made it an almost artform, explaining to Gallatin the various vagaries and sordid tales of this walking nightmare. By now, he knew what to avoid if he didn’t want to lose control of the situation and what might set the elf off into a questioning tangent.

The first time had taken him the better part of an hour to read Gallatin in, now he’d gotten it down to a tight fifteen minutes. It never ceased to confound him why the elf was willing to accept the truth so easily when those closest to Cahir such as the White Flame doubted it.

He’d asked the elf about it once and got a vague answer about how magic had played such a centralized component in their lives that you just came to accept the impossible as real possibility. And while his people did not general dabble in curses and the darker side of Chaos and that the Aen Elle had been known to dabble in the darker arts.

By the time Cahir was done, Gallatin had finished his half of the pigeon pie without a word and looked vaguely poleaxed by the whole tale.

“And you think this witch is going to be able to conjure a cure for your curse?”

“I hope so, I’ve been doing this for almost six fortnights and have made little progress.”

Gallatin reached out and caught him by the shoulder in a companionable grip. “I’m sorry you have had to go through this, my friend. I hope this witch can help you but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned for you. Trusting your blood and flesh to some unknown witch…do you know the things she could do to you?”

He asked with concern bright in his eyes.

“I do, but even if she curses me with some kind of death curse…chances are I will simply wake up tomorrow free of the curse, and she will have no memory of me or hold any piece of myself she can use to curse me again,” Cahir admitted softly.

“It’s a dangerous game you are playing, Cahir. I will go with you to make sure she does not get any stupid ideas.”

That surprised him because he usually had to warn Gallatin of his impending death to divert the elf from his quest to reach the palace and his inevitable doom. And even then, it was a coin toss on whether or not he could convince him to put aside his overgrown sense of responsibility towards his people to listen to the human.

But Cahir would not look a gift horse in the mouth and nodded gratefully.

“I appreciate your assistance, Gallatin.” Cahir said with honest sincerity before climbing to his feet.

#wip sunday #el writes #witcher fanfcition #fanfic snippet #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #gallatin #cahir x gallatin #cahir/gallatin

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jlilycorbie · 1 year

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7 & 7

Thanks to @toribookworm22 for the tag!

Rules: Share 7 snippets from a work of choice and tag 7 people.

Forgive me, but I still don't feel comfortable tagging people. Someday, I will convince myself that other people like being tagged and won't be annoyed with me, but today isn't that day. If you see this, consider it an open tag. I would love to see snippets from your projects!

These are all from the (still) untitled fantasy WIP.

For reference, Scavats is an unagul: a giant ram rooster. He's big enough to ride like a horse, and his kind are know to be formidable predators.

Scavats stretched his neck to nibble and pull on Oyuungah's tail. She squealed and danced ahead, giggling, then turned to bat at his nose. He showed his fangs and pranced.

"Everything?" Zaya asked, keeping hold of his harness so he wouldn't be tempted to chase his new friend. "Do you remember everything?"

"I don't think I ever knew much." Setsamaa swept a hand ahead of them. "It's like the road. If you know to look, you can see it. I still forget, until I see someone who is Djaetyli. And I remember there was a land to the north filled with people. I remember the sound of their accents, the taste of food they brought. The wine and the vinegar from ice berries."

Scavats hung his head while he plodded along until Oyuungah slowed to walk beside him and scratch his ears. He moaned, dangling his tongue.

Zaya breathed deep, and maybe she recalled a ghost of flavor. The road died when they stopped coming, when other people stopped going. Wet season would wash it away, flower season would sprout through it, fire season would parch and crack it, cold season would finish shattering it to wash away. The Huudzairen kept open roads by magic and labor. The caravans did their part, maintaining where they could, marking problems and passing word when they couldn't.

The people of the north wouldn't have used a road alone. Huudzairen must have made and kept it. Why wouldn't Castravi and Tsaltich and others use it, too, even if they no longer wanted to go north?

The spring burbled out from beneath a big rock. On the steppes, a little extra height went a long way. Zaya grabbed her map and climbed on top of it.

As she unfurled the vellum, she saw Djaetyrot and remembered. Why she was there. Everything she'd talked to Setsamaa about. She had the map for years, and occasionally she'd take it out, realize something had gone very wrong in the world, then…put it down and forget. Put it away without looking. Find it again.

But every time, it wore a groove a little deeper in her mind. Became harder to ignore even if she didn't know what fit there. And she remembered ice berry vinegar with salty, crumbling cheese and peppered honey on warm bread.

They arrived with the sunset in their eyes as the zaighen gathered for the evening. The low sun caught on their pelts and blazed like fire.

"They're beautiful," Zaya breathed.

"And yet you slaughtered one," Setsamaa said.

Zaya spent her life protecting herds and flocks. She knew some of the cold reality of even the gentlest farming. From a distance, the herd looked healthy. "It is not always beautiful and does not always feel right, does life."

It also meant she clearly heard staggering footsteps nearby. Zaya looked around, and at the next intersection, she spotted a young woman struggling to carry two water buckets. She wore a loose top like the Huudzairen, and she had two legs. She had hooves, but they were rounded instead of cloven, and she wore a loose wrapped skirt with bright, intricate embroidery and tiny mirrors that flashed in the early light.

"A hand," Zaya offered, extending one to her.

She stumbled to a stop and stared, and Zaya worried she'd gotten the words wrong until her pale cheeks flushed. "Thank you," she said, and she allowed Zaya to take one of them.

"Where we going, then?"

"We're the spices and ovens," she said, grasping her remaining bucket with both hands. She had a Tsaltich accent.

"You cook so far from water?" Zaya asked.

"Not usually, no." She shook her long, dark hair out of her eyes and peered up at Zaya. "You're new then."

"Arrived last night. Just trying to find my way around, yeah?"

The girl grinned. "Then you want to find us. I'm Llenas, and you'll meet my ma and da soon, Elyri and Hyelwun. Usually we get here, someone calls a well for us, but it failed this year. Got to wait a few days to try again."

"And meanwhile carry water," Zaya guessed. "I'm Zaya. Don't know how long I'll stay."

"You're back!" Oyuungah spotted them and addressed Scavats directly. He rumbled with pleasure and stretched his neck out, then flopped over as she scratched him, blocking the whole path.

"Shameful," Zaya told him, shaking her head and doing her best not to smile as their escort of children giggled.

A pair of dragons swooped by, and one managed to score a clawful of fluff. "I see the monster is on the loose," Bahkyti said mildly. He had one dragon on his shoulder, and his bald head covered as much to give another somewhere to perch as to protect himself from the sun.

"I hope we're all prepared for the aftermath of his rampage," Zaya said. He rolled over for belly rubs, dangling his tongue.

"Devastating," Bahkyti drawled as he tossed a couple of dried meat scraps into the air. The dragons caught them while Scavats watched. He fingered another piece before he tossed it to the unagul.

Scavats tried to snap the crumb out of the air, but he also didn't want to unseat the child who had climbed onto his chest. He wiggled to the side, twisting his head to lick it off the ground. He sneezed.

"All your ancestors are embarrassed right now," Zaya said while Oyuungah giggled and scratched beneath his chin.

"You can wait in camp then," she said, smiling as she pushed him back. He snorted in her face, then stopped and crouched as their camp came into sight. Aleksani stood on the edge of the boundary. Scavats lowered his head, rumbling quietly, and Zaya set a hand on his neck to calm him.

Aleksani held very still as Zaya approached. Her jaw and eyes were tight, her skin almost blue in the fading light. When Zaya was close enough to talk, she turned to show her entire side soaked in blood. "I require assistance," she said, and crumpled.

As Aleksani collapsed, Zaya lunged forward. Aleksani folded over her arm. "Not the best place for this, hey?" she asked. Even after all the sleep, Zaya's body ached in protest. At least they were at the edge of her camp, so it wasn't far to haul her up and support her over the boundary and to her hammock.

Scavats grumbled and scratched at the ground, and Zaya said, "Oh, go pout out of the way." He snorted and continued to hover nearby. "What have you done to yourself, Leksa?"

"Who said you could call me that?" Aleksani asked.

"Made the decision myself, when you swooned into my arms," Zaya said. "Come on now, what have you done?"

Her skin was clammy, her eyes dark. "I made a miscalculation," Aleksani said.

Zaya watched Aleksani in the reflection until she opened the doors to her wardrobe and gathered up the hem of the borrowed shirt. Watching her reflection felt intrusive in a way simply facing her would not. She turned away, and she found herself at eye-level with the three poppets. "Leksa?" Zaya asked. "Will you tell me about the poppets?"

"Thank you for your assistance," Aleksani said, offering Zaya her shirt. She wore a soft gown now of pale blue. The shade made her look like a corpse.

Zaya accepted her shirt and nodded. She almost expected Aleksani to call her back as she left, but she didn't.

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #writing tag game #7&7 #untitled fantasy wip

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theboarsbride · 2 years

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What other stories do you plan on writing once you’ve finished the Monster and the Butterfly?

ABSOLUTELY!!!!!!

After I finish the current draft of TMATB, I want to do a round of revisions for my gothic vampire horror short story "The Vampire of Shadowed Castle", hopefully in time for a rerelease during spooky season!

TVOSC is a gothic horror short story that follows a young woman, Sorina Dalca, that embarks on a journey to prove to her isolated village that they've no reason to fear Shadowed Castle, a mysterious, old, crumbling, shadowy estate that is rumored to be haunted by a bloodthirsty evil... only to discover that perhaps her village was correct in being afraid... (TVOSC is very heavily inspired by the works from Angela Carter's "Bloody Chamber" anthology, as well as Hammer Horror films!)

The next major WIP I wish to start working on is called "The Faeries and the Lark"! As of right now, it's VERY very loosely plotted, and may be ready to be written! TFATL is a sapphic dark fantasy story that's inspired by the fairytales Sleeping Beauty and East of the Sun, West of the Moon, as well as various aspects of Scandinavian folklore, mythology, and cultures! (Also draws heavy inspiration from The Lord of the Rings shhshsjajaj)

A basic summary of TFATL is as follows: it is told from the POV of the “Three Good Fairies” as they raise the lost princess of a kingdom (known for worshiping the sun) that was slaughtered by a subterranean society of trolls while also keeping her hidden from the worlds of humans, malicious fairies, and spirits. After 18 years, their efforts to protect the princess may be thwarted when another human, the hardened, moon-worshiping Princess Sigrid, enters the faeries' forest. Major themes are identity and the sacrifices of motherhood.

Another horror WIP I've in development is one I've been calling "Ruth," a folk horror story with more LGBTQ+ rep (main character is a lesbian woman). Basically, the story of Little Red Riding Hood meets the Wicker Man meets The Ritual, with themes of environmentalism. Also a lot of influences from Germanic paganism/mythology, and German culture since the main character is from Milwaukee, Wisconsin....a place that was extremely high in German immigration, historically..........and also because I wanna write a story where a character is from Wisconsin, since that's where I'm from.😩🤙

Another WIP I've in development is a short, historical fiction novella titled "Mrs. Maturin," and the plot centers around the very real-life encounter between young widow Leila Maturin and Joseph Merrick, AKA The Elephant Man. Its a basic short story about overcoming inherent selfishness of humanity, compassionate, and being kind, and I like to call it my "Hallmark WIP" because it has the vibes of a cheesy 90s Hallmark movie shsbbsjsjqkkqkq

And THEN there is my WIP "The Boar's Bride." Its currently (er... WAS. I've not written it in about a year, but I DO plan on finishing it!) being written as a fanfiction for NBC's Hannibal, and it's my version if a Bluebeard retelling svsbbjxjxjajajjajakajaja. It's mostly a psychological horror, with gothic elements. TBH, the less said the better for now hdhhdjdjdj

Final WIP at the moment that's in development hell is "The Wolf of Pine Falls". I hope for this to be a 'companion piece' for TVOSC, as this is a werewolf short story when TVOSC is a vampire short story! This is mostly a contemporary, slice of life, paranormal romance that features a middle-aged werewolf that struggles with his body image in a world where younger and attractive men are seen as the 'ideal werewolf' in media (i.e.- Twilight), and he also tries to navigate a romance with a blind coworker. I just also wanna write this to have a werewolf character that defies popular werewolf tropes (such as becoming a bloodthirsty, mindless killing machine on the full moon).

OK WHEW I THINK THOSE ARE THE REST OF MY WIPS???!?!??!?!?!? SO SORRY IF THIS WAS LONGER TO READ BUT YAH ABBSBANAJKAKAKAKK these are other stories I hope to write in my lifetime!!🥺

#jojo rambles #writing #writers community #writeblr wip #writeblr

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