a-fake-author

[a-fake-author]

How to Write Gore: From a Gore Writer

To start: Gore ≠ horror genre. Gore and body horror is a TYPE of horror, but it does not encompass the entire genre. Think of the difference between SAW, American Psycho, and Pan's Labyrinth. All horror, not all focusing on gore.

However, gore/body horror is a part of many genres of fiction. It shows up in fantasy, action, drama, sci-fi...so knowing how to write it can be pretty important. And here, I'll be running down how to write explicit gore, not unlike truly horrific carnage you'd see in the worst crime scene photos. Obvious TW for examples I'll be using (which will be long)

Pick a POV. Is this going to be in the POV of the victim, or the instigator? Or will you switch between them, or will it be a third limited? You should know this before you start the story, but especially make sure you know what voice you'll be using for scenes like this.

Use all five senses. Sight, touch, sound, taste, smell. What is being seen by your POV? Do they hear bones cracking, skin ripping, fluids squelching? Do they smell metal, or blood, or old rot? What are they feeling, physically? Are they shivering in pain, if it's a victim? Or are they steady, or shivering in happiness, as an instigator? Are they biting their tongue so hard they taste blood? Example:

JJ tried struggling and turning his head away, but it was no use. The monster forced his eye open and slowly started taking his toy's eye.

His body strained and he struggled. Nothing Anti had done before compared to this pain. Blood streamed down his face and squirted everywhere. JJ's eye started popping out of the socket as the pain consumed him, making him sick and dizzy.

Anti bit his lip, breaking the skin and drawing a few droplets of blood to the surface. He contained himself and kept a slow pace, enjoying the sight of his toy's eye falling out of its socket. Bright blue and stark white covered in shiny red. Anti felt his borrowed heart start pounding, his hands shaking. He'd waited years for this. Everything had gotten in his way.

Blood poured down half of JJ's face and soaked the thread in his lips. His vision was flashing red and black and white. He could barely breathe and tasted copper. His body was giving out, muscles spasming and limbs going limp. His good eye was blurry with tears.

This could be refined a little more, but I think you get the point. Capture the whole moment, even if it takes you a while to do so.

Get creative. Everyone has read about people getting shot or stabbed during interrogations, torture sessions. Take it a step further. Use the knife or gun in an interesting way, or use a different, unexpected tool altogether. Example:

Maze tipped his head back, running a hand through his hair as Chase brought the cheese grater back. "Take it across your right arm." He slid his eyes over to Chase as he did so without hesitation. The first thing Maze saw had been the blood start making rivers down his arm. When the cheese grater was pulled away the skin had divorced from the muscle and hung in the air, making a V shape with his arm. Maze let out a disgruntled noise as he watched Chase bring the cheese grater to his arm again. Flecks of skin caught in the ridges of the grater and fell to the floor as Chase's blood cascaded down his arm. He could hear Chase's skin ripping off of his arm and his blood dripping to the floor. He could see how the grater tugged at the skin before ripping it off and the skin falling to the floor, into the blood. The whole of his bicep was bloody and torn apart before Maze commanded him to stop.

I first wrote this cheese grater scene in 2018. My friends still say they can't look at a cheese grater the same lmao

And finally, get descriptive. Show, show, show. Be visceral. Be upsetting, be horrifying, and vomit-inducing. Write vomit if you want! Get into the nitty-gritty, show how awful it is, and how inescapable it is for your characters. Yes, it's okay to be panic-inducing! This is horror- and not just horror. This is gore. This is explicit pain and suffering. It's not meant to be soft. It's meant to kick your reader's teeth in. It's meant to get under their skin and make them so uncomfortable it's hard to get through. It's like a car crash, or train wreck, or witnessing a murder. I don't think I need a final example, but I'll give you one anyway. Example:

"Attack." The wasps dived in, stingers first, as they attacked the one Sadreen wanted.

Pinpricks of powder blue blood left the other as the wasps stung, his screams turning to shrieks and confused begging, as they begged whatever held them to let them go.

Sadreen approached the swarm of wasps with even steps and the other, his smirk falling into place again. The other spotted him, shaking his head as he tried to contain his screams.

Sadreen stood in front of the other, inspecting them. Their blue blood dripped out of their wounds, not enough to fall or move. The areas of skin around the wounds blackened, the open wound pulsing with venom, the green-tinged sickness spewing and dribbling out of the wounds, mixing with the drops of blood.

“You should not have meddled with what is not yours, little one.”

The other tried to speak, cut off by blood shoving itself up to their throat, falling out of their mouth in waterfalls, and filling their mouth with their tainted blood.

In their binds they spasmed, foam leaving their mouth. Sadreen uncoiled his tendrils, their form collapsing to the ground with several cracks, as now brittle bones from the venom snapped on impact.

And to close out some final advice: Never, ever, ever let anyone bully you into dumbing down these scenes. They are horrific on purpose. Slap your TWs at the beginning, and keep moving. You gave readers a fair warning, if they read it and then still trigger themselves, that's on them. I know people have had raging issues lately with dark fiction, not to mention horror, but those puritan rules don't apply here. Go wild.

Go completely feral.

You deserve it.

[a-fake-author]

Writing advice #?: Have your characters wash the dishes while they talk.

This is one of my favorite tricks, picked up from E.M. Forester and filtered through my own domestic-homebody lens.  Forester says that you should never ever tell us how a character feels; instead, show us what those emotions are doing to a character’s posture and tone and expression.  This makes “I felt sadness” into “my shoulders hunched and I sighed heavily, staring at the ground as my eyes filled with tears.”  Those emotions-as-motions are called objective correlatives.  Honestly, fic writers have gotten the memo on objective correlatives.

However, objective correlatives can quickly become a) repetitive or b) melodramatic.  On the repetitive end, long scenes of dialogue can quickly turn into “he sighed” and “she nodded” so many times that he starts to feel like a window fan and she like a bobblehead.  On the melodramatic end, a debate about where to eat dinner can start to feel like an episode of Jerry Springer because “he shrieked” while “she clenched her fists” and they both “ground their teeth.”  If you leave the objective correlatives out entirely, then you have what’s known as “floating” dialogue — we get the words themselves but no idea how they’re being said, and feel completely disconnected from the scene.  If you try to get meaning across by telling us the characters’ thoughts instead, this quickly drifts into purple prose.

Instead, have them wash the dishes while they talk.

To be clear: it doesn’t have to be dishes.  They could be folding laundry or sweeping the floor or cooking a meal or making a bed or changing a lightbulb.  The point is to engage your characters in some meaningless, everyday household task that does not directly relate to the subject of the conversation.

This trick gives you a whole wealth of objective correlatives.  If your character is angry, then the way they scrub a bowl will be very different from how they’ll be scrubbing while happy.  If your character is taking a moment to think, then they might splash suds around for a few seconds.  A character who is not that invested in the conversation will be looking at the sink not paying much attention.  A character moderately invested will be looking at the speaker while continuing to scrub a pot.  If the character is suddenly very invested in the conversation, you can convey this by having them set the pot down entirely and give their full attention to the speaker.

A demonstration:

1

“I’m leaving,” Anastasia said.

“What?”  Drizella continued dropping forks into the dishwasher.

2

“I’m leaving,” Anastasia said.

Drizella paused midway through slotting a fork into the dishwasher.  “What?”

3

“I’m leaving,” Anastasia said.

Drizella laughed, not looking up from where she was arranging forks in the dishwasher.  “What?”

4

“I’m leaving,” Anastasia said.

The forks slipped out of Drizella’s hand and clattered onto the floor of the dishwasher.  “What?”

5

“I’m leaving,” Anastasia said.

Drizella shoved several forks into the dishwasher with unnecessary force, not seeming to notice when several bounced back out of the silverware rack.  “What?”

See how cheaply and easily we can get across Drizella’s five different emotions about Anastasia leaving, all by telling the reader how she’s doing the dishes?  And all the while no heads were nodded, no teeth were clenched.

The reason I recommend having it be one of these boring domestic chores instead of, say, scaling a building or picking a lock, is that chores add a sense of realism and are low-stakes enough not to be distracting.  If you add a concurrent task that’s high-stakes, then potentially your readers are going to be so focused on the question of whether your characters will pick the lock in time that they don’t catch the dialogue.  But no one’s going to be on the edge of their seat wondering whether Drizella’s going to have enough clean forks for tomorrow.

Not only that, but chores are a cheap-n-easy way to add a lot of realism to your story.  So much of the appeal of contemporary superhero stories comes from Spider-Man having to wash his costume in a Queens laundromat or Green Arrow cheating at darts, because those details are fun and interesting and make a story feel “real.”  Actually ask the question of what dishes or clothing or furniture your character owns and how often that stuff gets washed.  That’s how you avoid reality-breaking continuity errors like stating in Chapter 3 that all of your character’s worldly possessions fit in a single backpack and in Chapter 7 having your character find a pair of pants he forgot he owns.  You don’t have to tell the reader what dishes your character owns (please don’t; it’s already bad enough when Tolkien does it) but you should ideally know for yourself.

Anyway: objective correlatives are your friends.  They get emotion across, but for low-energy scenes can become repetitive and for high-energy scenes can become melodramatic.  The solution is to give your characters something relatively mundane to do while the conversation is going on, and domestic chores are not a bad starting place.

[a-fake-author]

Two Experiments//B.Barnes

buckyxfemale!reader

!no spoilers but this would take place during tfatws episodes 2 and 3!!

warnings: lots of cursing, mentions of hydra (yes that’s a warning lol), mentions of alcohol

summary: Bucky knew Zemo would have a lead, but knowing Zemo he would need to bring you with him. And after years of putting off this reunion he was desperate to have you by his side.

authors note: thank you so much for all the love on Eye Candy! I wanted to give you all another sarcastic Bucky fic and I hope you all love this one as well. lots of love babes <3

masterlist

“Before we go to see Zemo we need to get her.” Bucky said to Sam as they walked away from the imposter of Captain America.

“Yeah good luck with that one. She’s as stubborn as you and finding out you’re getting her back just for Zemo–well you know what I wanna see how this turns out.” Sam said patting the back of Bucky laughing at his idea.

“He won’t talk to us. He’ll talk to her.” He said reassuringly. To even get a lead to this super soldier scheme, he knew Zemo would know something–or at least know where to start. But Zemo had an obsession with Hydra, and bringing the prized possessions of Hydra to him will Bucky and Sam out.

✰ ✰ ✰

Bucky had found your location rather quickly. He knew you would be in Italy. You both had talked about running to Italy together during your days at Hydra. So when you broke out, he knew you would always be there.

You were there waiting for him and that broke him even more.

Walking into the apartment with Sam he saw how much it resembles you as a person. There was a vase filled with fresh flowers, some clean spots and some spots where your clothes littered the floors. You had all your favorite food scattered along the counters and in the fridge you had plums. Smiling at the small gesture in your apartment that was directed towards him.

“So where is princess Hydra?” Sam asked as he walked around. Sitting on the couch that you had.

“Well it’s ten pm on a friday night. She’s out clubbing.” Bucky said as he walked into your bedroom. Your bed was made and had no indents, as if it’s never been slept on. But on the floor there was a pillow.

“I like her a lot. More than you. Girl knows how to live her life after being an experiment for Hydra.” Sam said.

“Yeah she knows how to live life.” Bucky said smiling to himself as he saw your heels gone from your shoe pile.

“So what are doing here, are we going clubbing?” Sam said standing up walking over to Bucky.

“Yeah put these on. Find her and I’ll do the rest.” Buky handed an ear piece to Sam and they both walked out leaving your apartment. Bucky taking one last look at what could’ve been his.

Keep reading

[a-fake-author]

adore you. || Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader (1)

Prompt: Tony Stark’s genius daughter’s life is in danger. She’s quiet and anxious around people she doesn’t know, and must be handled with care. In an effort to prove to Tony that he can trust Bucky, Steve prompts Bucky to take the job. Though Bucky hates it at first, his feelings begin to shift as he gets to know her.

Word Count: 3.09K

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Note: If you’d like to be added to the taglist, leave a comment or submit an ask and I will add you

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Keep reading

[a-fake-author]

FATWS Series Masterlist

PAIRING: BUCKY BARNES X AVENGER!READER

!TAGLIST IS CLOSED FOR THIS SERIES!

!FATWS SPOILERS AHEAD: READ WITH CAUTION!

Series based on the Show - updates every Friday as new episodes come out!

Series Warnings: !SPOILERS!, Lots of Angst, Fluff, Some Idiocy, Cursing, Slow-Burn (I’m sorry, it was an accident!)

1) His Only Contact - Takes place after Episode 1; Angst and Fluff, phone call between Reader and Bucky; Bucky’s Perspective (Also written for HBC’s Lucky in Love, Day 19 Prompt: Odds)

2) Not Your Captain - Takes place right before Episode 2; Lots of Angst and feelings between Reader and Bucky; Reader’s Perspective

3) Inner Conflict - Takes place during Episode 2; a little more action packed and scene-for-scene of the show than the previous two parts; Reader’s Perspective

3.5) Rocks, Shoulders, and Ears - Second Half of Inner Conflict; loads of Angst!; the Couples Therapy Scene; Reader’s Perspective

4) In Need of a Breath - First Part of the Third Episode; Zemo’s Entrance; Reader’s Perspective

4.2) Suits, Dress, and Heels - Second Part of the Third Episode; First Half of Madripoor; Sharon’s Entrance; Reader’s Perspective

4.3) It’s All in the Perspective - Third and Final Part of the Third Episode; Second half of Madripoor; Mainly Reader’s Perspective

5) Right From Left - First Part of the Fourth Episode; First little bit in Latvia before Walker comes in; Reader’s Perspective

5.2) The Shield - Second and Final Part of the Fourth episode; Walker, Karli, Zemo, Everything; Proceed with Caution on This One; Reader’s Perspective

One Shots of Reader’s Backstory - NOT BUCKY X READER 

It’s more Avengers x Reader with a heavy emphasis on Steve x Reader, but it’s platonic! I’m gonna try to do it chronologically.

Read Series Before!

One Shot 1: Back to the Beginning - Reader Meets Captain Steve Rogers; Takes place directly after Captain America: The First Avenger in 2011

One Shot 2: The Beginning of a Family - Reader Meets the Avengers; Takes place during the first half of The Avengers in 2012

One Shot 3: COMING SOON

[a-fake-author]

a place called home

© credits to the author, i found it on google. if you own it, send me a message to add your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Request by @dora-wolfram-blog: Hi <3 so happy to see your requests are open! How about ex Avenger reader who can manipulate the forces of nature and she comes to help Sam? (Idk maybe calling fish from the sea so his family can sell and earn enough money for the boat?) There she meets Bucky who she briefly met after endgame and they get to know each other? Domestic stuff is my weak spot so thank you so much luv u <3

word count: 1.206 words.

warnings/tags: none. bucky being a gentleman and sam a pain in the ass as always.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

Saying that Bucky and you were friends wasn’t something exactly. You fought together a couple of times before you retired from superhero life. Like many of them, the war had finished and you chose calm over being a private agent. More or less like the ex-soldier, with the difference that he went to New York and you didn’t be able to find a home until Sam made you a call. He was quite the opposite of Bucky for you, connecting since the very first second you met. After he told you about his sister’s financial trouble, he offered you a roof to sleep under in exchange for your powers to control the tide and promote the movement of fish stocks. Of course, it was a hit, and you finally found peace in Delacroix. A celebration was inevitable, it was part of Wilsons’ DNA, but you weren’t expecting Bucky to show up with Sam; although he told you in your last call that they were working together. Or something like that.

As soon as your eyes laid on him among the crowd, you knew he had changed after more than six months without seeing each other. You couldn't help but feel happy for Bucky when you saw him smiling for the first time. He had a beautiful and innocent smile, seeming like a new man. Renovated, with want to live, enjoying playing with kids and talking to old men about war stories.

You had placed your back against an oak column, away from the crowd but close enough to check on everyone, in case they need help with anything. A beer was resting against your lips, doubting on continuing drinking, lost in your thoughts. There was something about Bucky going from one side to another, laughing unworried, that had fully captivated your attention. You weren't able to stop looking at him, chuckling when you saw one of Sam's nieces putting a magnet with the form of a crab on his left arm.

“I have that teen-in-love's face on camera”.

You frowned at Redwing some inches away from your face. As a response, you tried to slap it down. But your friend was faster than you controlling that thing.

“He looks good, uh?”

“Oh, shut up…” You replied by clicking your tongue and rolling your eyes, having a sip from your drink to put your eyes away to the sea.

“He asked if you'd be here… Just saying”.

“Shut up, Samuel!” You implored, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

As the night went on and the guests started to leave, Sarah asked you to take Jim and Jody home while she stayed there cleaning with his brother about the business. You were exhausted too, and she noticed it. And after saying your goodbyes, you headed to the parking where your car was stationed, carrying the younger Wilson onto your arms —peacefully sleeping— as his big brother was yawning loudly. At that point, you realized that it was going to be a tough mission to put them in the car.

“Wait! Lemme help”.

The male voice coming from behind you made you turn around and before you could react, Bucky was taking Jody from your arms to his. You smirked softly in response, looking for the key in the right pocket of your jacket to unlock the car. The soldier tucked the younger in the back seat, placing the belt around him as Jim occupied the other side of the SUV.

“It's been good to see you”. You said after closing the door, staying outside in front of him.

“Same”. He replied, not knowing what else to say.

Puckering your lips and clapping the key on your palm, you nodded with your chin, feeling the nerves running through your veins. “Good night, Bucky”.

“Good night, (Y/N)”.

You gave him your back, sighing inappreciably, to open the pilot's place and came in.

“He— Hey, wait”.

“Uh?”

“Sam told me… you were tired. I might give you a ride back home. I can wait for him there”. The offering made you glance towards him, already sitting in your car but with a leg rest on the ground. “If you want, I mean…”

Of course he did (...). That son of a bitch had the audacity to push you onto the other. You bit your inner cheek, landing your eyes on the wheel. Yes, you were tired. You woke up at five to sail with Sarah, then you organized the party and cooked for it. You hadn't had a single second of rest during the whole day. And Sam took advantage of it, feeling like he was some kind of Cupido. And you had to recognize that it was also very considerate coming from Bucky.

“I'd appreciate it… actually”. You ended up agreeing, stepping out to give him the keys and ceding your seat.

The ride was silent between the two of you, hearing some quiet indie music playing on the radio while you fought against your brain to stay awake. Luckily, it didn't take him too long to reach Sarah's house —although you were barely keeping your eyes open at this point. Again, he helped you with the kids, walking indoors and following you to their respective rooms. You tucked Jim and Jody on their beds, making sure they were comfy before placing a kiss on their foreheads and wishing them a good night. Bucky had rested his back against the wall, in front of the elder’s room, just waiting for you. And you could swear that you saw him briefly smirking because of the tenderness in your actions.

After closing the last door, you waved your head to urge him to follow you downstairs to the living room. With an exhausted sigh escaping your lips, you let your body fall on the sofa, curling on a side of it to give Bucky some space. You couldn’t help but yawn, turning on the TV by using the control remote.

“It’s good to have a home to come back”.

“Yeah… After all the shitty situations we’ve been through… We deserved a rest, don’t you think?” You replied grabbing a cushion from the floor, using it as a pillow over the armrest. “Sorry, I… I’m deadly tired…”

“Come here, that will hurt when you wake up”.

Bucky didn’t hesitate on beckoning to his arms, taking off his boots heel against heel to place both legs over the coffee table. You didn’t resist, knowing it would be comfier by his way. Sitting up, you lied to the opposite side, being wrapped instantly and snuggled against his warm body. Shameless, you rest your head on his right forearm, practically laying over his lap. But you felt good. You felt like it was a good reward after a long day, rolling down your eyelids and focusing on the caresses in your hair you didn’t know you needed.

For a moment, your mind wandered and fantasized about this last hour being part of your real life. Putting your kids to sleep and then cuddle with your husband till falling asleep. Smell Bucky’s strong and edgy scent. Your hands scratching his back. His fingertips stroking your scalp. Your legs laced (...)

Oh, God, Sam. What did you do?

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[a-fake-author]

I am a(n):

⚪ Male

⚪ Female

🔘 Writer

Looking for

⚪ Boyfriend

⚪ Girlfriend

🔘 An incredibly specific word that I can't remember

[a-fake-author]

AM fiiisj

AM fiiisj

Swim in circle

Stare at glass

Outside window

Ocean is only ture home

Send me back

When i die

Flush my body

And let me

Returrn

To tru

Home

Plees sent to

The free water

Thhat is oceaen

Home is saltt

And not this

Glass container

Keeping me trappd

I jump out of bowll

And slowly succumb

To the cruelty

o f he air people

West virgin 

My amam

Take home

Contry road

[a-fake-author]

Corporations- A poem

Everything I was warned against as a child

Is now normal and expected

They’re selling my childhood back to me

But twisted and warped

The once bright beautiful colors

Are now bleak and black

What I was told are warning signs

I see or hear from almost anyone I talk to

And death is in almost every interaction

Everyone is working themselves to the bone

Fearful of the world flooding and boiling around them

As our parents tell us that nothing is wrong

Corporations we are addicted to

Dump waste into our water

And kill our animals

While smiling and chanting at us from the screens that are everywhere

Big nameless corporations

Building things

Squeezing our money out of us

Working us with weights on our backs

Paying us minimum minimum wage

Desperate for more money

For more buildings

For more

And More

And More

And one day

The money will stop

And they will look down

To see the corpses

Of people they exploited

And realize no more money will come

And all of the cash in their vaults

Will not feed them

When they have no one

To grow their food

And then they will starve

And no one will be able to tell

The difference between their bones and mine

[a-fake-author]

What if instead of editing – and hear me out on this one – I lay facedown on the floor and do nothing

[a-fake-author]

What They Don’t Show - Peter Parker

I’ve had this blog for about a year, I might as well start using it.

They don’t show you this part on TV. Peter thought bitterly to himself. Laid back against a collapsed building, parts of his suit burned off, riddled with bullet holes. Every breath sent sharp stabbing pains through his body, and tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

I’m not going to cry. I can’t cry. His entire body burned and itched as it frantically tried to heal him. His head was pounding and he almost wished he would lose consciousness just to get a break from the constant pain. But he had to go, he had to move, he couldn’t pass out. Someone might take his mask off. Was any of this even real?

I wasn’t supposed to have to fight. He gasped out a little as tears finally slipped down his face. Every shuddering breath sent spikes of pain through him and yet he couldn’t stop. This was supposed to be a school trip. I was supposed to have fun. I didn’t want this. I just wanted to be normal for once. Why can’t I just be a teenager? Why do I have to fight an adult battle?

The memories started rolling. Tony Stark appearing in his room. Captain America dropping a truck on him. Tony taking his suit and fighting in his tracksuit, everything burning as the world crashed down around him. Going to space and fighting Thanos. Always fighting. Pain. So much pain as his body slowly disintegrated. Tony’s face as he faded away. Then, waking up to find that years had passed. Watching Tony die in front of him.

Questions. Everyone had questions. Tony was everywhere. The blip was everything. Suddenly everyone was older. Peter still didn’t know the full story of what was going on. More questions. More appearances. Cameras. People. Everywhere.

“Peter!” His body screamed as Peter launched himself off the ground and onto the edge of the bridge. MJ held up her hands consolingly. “It’s me.”

“How do I know that it’s you? Prove it!” Hysteria was rising in him. What if this wasn’t really over? What if Mysterio was just waiting. Waiting for him to drop his guard to send him through another nightmare hellscape. MJ’s voice faded out.

Iron Suit. His skeleton. He’d be alive if Peter had been faster. He’d be alive if Peter had been better. Peter had given the one thing Tony had left him to the enemy. Something Tony had trusted him with. He had failed.

He shook his head, seeing MJ’s face swimming in front of him as he backed off the bridge. Her shout in his ears as he fell. He shot a web, swinging away. Away from everyone, just away. He smashed into the side of a skyscraper, and hauled himself over the edge, collapsing on top of it.

Is this real? How would he know? How could he prove to himself-

He fumbled EDITH out of his suit, ripping his mask off.

“EDITH. Is this real? Is everything around me real? Am I safe?”

“No remaining holograms detected. You are severely injured suffering from what appears to be-“

He pulled the glasses off, curling up against the wall that lined the edge of the building. He was okay. This was real. He was okay. He would be okay. He would heal. He would go home. Things would-

Things wouldn’t go back to normal. This trip was proof of that. He was now permanently on Nick Fury’s call list. As soon as he got comfortable, he’d get called again. There wasn’t an end for this.

“Why can’t I just be a teenager?” He asked himself, shaking.

[a-fake-author]

Creatures From Around The World

My Favorite Mythology/Folklore and Cryptid monsters collected by Country/Continent.

MEDIEVAL EUROPEAN MYTHOLOGY / FOLKLORE (Book of Imaginary Creatures, Heraldry, Alchemy, Medieval Bestiary, Roma, Left-Over European)

The Muscaliet is so hot it will inflate everything it touches into a burning column of fire. Entire forests burn away when they find their way into earthly forests.

A Bao A Qu / Barometz or Vegetable Lamb / Basilisk / Cagrino or Chagrin / Carbuncle / Catoblepas / Echeneis or Remora / Flaga / Goblin / Gold-Digging Ant or Formica Aurum / Hypnalis / Ichneumon or Hydrus / Imp / Incubus / Leontophone / Leucrotta or Crocotta / Muscaliet / Myrmecoleon or Antlion / Nependis / Nightmare or Mare / Odontotyrannos / Pard / Peryton / Salamander / Scitalis or Scytale / Seps / Succubus / Undine / Will o Wisp / Wyvern / Yale or Centicore / Ziphius

Abarimon / Aspidochelone / Bicorn / Blemmyes / Bonnacon / Cerastes / Chichevache / Cockatrice / Cynocephaly / Haermorrhois or Blood-Letter / Indus Worm / Keythong / Musimon / Onocentaur / Panotti / Parandrus / Sandman / Wild Hunt / Ypotryll / Zitiron

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GREEK MYTHOLOGY (Ancient Greek/Roman Mythology)

Nemean Lions (named Golden Lion or War Lion in Mythika) are powerful hunters with very tough skin which is almost impossible to pierce with normal weapons. Their manes are covered with arrows and the weapons from their victims.

Akheilos / Amphisbaena / Anteros / Argus / Cacus / Centaur / Cerberus / Charon / Charybdis / Chimera / Chrysaor / Dactyl / Echidna / Empusa / Erinyes or Fury / Faun or Satyr / Gorgon or Medusa / Harpy / Hekatonkheires or  Hundred-Handed One / Hippocampus / Hydra / Kampe / Karkinos or Cancer / Ketos or Cetus / Ladon / Lamia / Lampad / Makhai or War Daemon / Minotaur / Narcissus / Nemean Lion / Nosoi or Pandora Box / Phobetor / Scylla / Sphinx / Thriae

Aegipan or Capricorn / Aetos or Caucasian Bird / Antaeus / Arachne / Celedon / Circe / Cyclops / Dryad / Erote or Cupid / Erymanthian Boar or Dire Boar / Eurynomos / Gegenees / Geryon / Graeae or Stygian Hag / Griffon or Griffin / Khalkotauroi / Maenad / Mormo / Pytho or Delphyne / Scorpios / Skolopendra / Spartoi / Stymphalian Bird / Symplegades or Planctae / Talos or Bronze Colossus / Teumessian Fox / Triton / Typhon / Zelus

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NORSE MYTHOLOGY (Ancient Norse Mythology)

Fenrir are said to be ancestors of all canine species, and in Mythika they are among the most powerful, only Cerberi stand a chance. Their skin is riddled with ice crystals and their breath is cold as winter.

Berserker / Draugr / Fafnir / Fenrir or Fenris / Hraesvelgr / Jormungandr / Jotunn or Frost Giant / Nidhogg / Svartalfar or Dark Elf / Troll / Valkyrie

Alberich / Dwarf / Elf / Hell / Hrimfaxi / Naglfar / Ratatoskr / Skinfaxi / Ymir

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CELTIC MYTHOLOGY / WESTERN EUROPE MEDIEVAL MYTHS (English, Welsh, Manx, Scottish, Irish, Breton and Arthurian)

Tatty Bogle are evil animated Scarecrows which can control birds and animate objects they touch. It is said that they are created by evil Hags which use the hearts of humans and the soul of a bogeyman to animate them.

Afanc or Addanc / Alp-Luachra or Joint Eater / Ankou / Awd Goggie / Banshee / Barghest or Black Dog / Boobrie / Brobinyak / Brollachan / Brucha / Buggane / Cirein Croin / Cu Sith / Cwn Annwn / Dullahan or Headless Horseman / Fachen / Fear Liath or Grey Man / Fomorian / Gancanagh / Grindylow / It / Jack-in-Irons / Kelpie / Knucker / Lavellan / Leanan Sidhe / Marool / Muirdris / Nuckelavee / Phooka or Pucca / Questing Beast / Rawhead or Bloody Bones / Redcap or Dunter / Shellycoat / Sianach / Sluagh / Spriggan / Springheel or Spring-Heeled Jack / Stray Sod / Tatty Bogle / Water Leaper or Llamhigyn Y Dwr / Wizard’s Shackle or Burach Bhadi

Arkan Sonney / Black Annis / Bluecap / Bodach / Boobach or Bugaboo / Bugbear / Cat Sidhe / Cath Palug / Ceffyl Dwr / Clurichaun / Curnunnos / Dobhar-Chu / Far Darrig / Fear Dorcha / Fear Gorta / Gwyllion / Kilmoullis / Leprechaun / Lunantishee / Ly Erg

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NORTHERN EUROPE MEDIEVAL MYTHS (Germanic, Scandinavian, German, Norwegian, Finland, Sweden, Iceland, Dutch, Belgian and Danish)

Osschaart are bizarre constructs made by the Jack-in-Irons. Osschaarts dangerous aura’s increase gravity and they can animate and control the chains that form most of their bodies.  

Ajatar / Alraune / Buckrider / Colorobetch / Doppelganger or Fetch / Erlking or Erlkonig / Gloson or Gravso / Gulon / Horerczy / Hrokkall / Ice Worm or Lagarfljot Worm / Iku-Turso / Kraken / Land Wight or Landvaettir / Osschaart / Pesta / Swamfisk / Valravn or Vilderavn

Askafroa / Baldanders / Fossegrim or Nakken / Helhest / Hrosshvalur / Huldra / Kludde or Aufhocker / Kobold / Lorelei / Mandragora or Mandrake / Nachtkrapp / Norn / Otso / Skotumodir / Snow Queen / Traicousse / Vatnagedda / Waldgeist

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EASTERN EUROPE MEDIEVAL MYTHS (Slavic, Russian, Polish, Romanian, Slovenian, Lithuanian and Serbian)

Combining the most feral features of both wolves and dragons the Zburator is a nocturnal hunting dragon that unlike most other dragons hunt in packs, they mostly hunt for other dragons.

Aitvaras / Bagiennik / Bauk / Bukavac / Fext / Hala or Ala / Karzelek / Kikimora / Leshy or Leshii / Lich / Moroi or Vampire / Nocnitsa or Night Hag / Planetnik or Demon Storm / Poludnica or Lady Midday / Shtriga / Veela or Vila / Vodyanoi or Vodnik / Zburator / Zirnitra / Zlatorog or Goldhorn / Zmey or Gorynych

Abaasy / Alkonost / Baba Yaga / Balaur / Bolotnik / Domovoi / Drekavac / Ebajalg / Indrik / Likho / Nosferatu / Ovinnik / Psoglav / Rusalka / Sarkany / Tculo / Ziburinis

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SOUTHERN EUROPE MEDIEVAL MYTHS (Spanish, Basque, Maltese, Sardinian, Italian, French, Swiss, Austria, Cyprus and Medieval Greek)

Every year the scales on a Cuelebre’s body become harder, until after a 1000 years they reach Adamantium hardness, once they reach this age they are almost impossible to destroy with normal weapons and most spells will simply bounce of their shimmering iron scales.

Aatxe / Agrippa / Barbegazi / Butatsch-Cun-Ilgs / Codrille / Cuelebre / Erchitu / Gargoyle or Gargouille / Gaueko / Hellequin / Kaw Kaw / Lou Carcolh / Marabbecca / Nuberu / Peluda / Pyrausta or Pyrallis / Stella / Tarasque / Trenti / Vrykolakas

Aerico / Caladrius / Drac / Krampus / Tartalo / Vouivre

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NATIVE AMERICAN FOLKLORE AND MYTHOLOGY (Inuit, Canadian, Navajo, Cherokee, and other such Tribal American)

Psonen are beautiful, but ice-cold bird monsters that are said to be related to the Phoenix. They mostly serve the Snow Queen as aerial mounts. They summon cold weather wherever they go.

Acheri / Ahkiyyini / Akhlut / Amikuk / Aniwye / Awahondo / Baykok / Binaye-Ahani / Delgeth or Thelgeth / Djieien / Ewah / Gaasyendietha or Meteor Dragon / Haietlik or Lightning Serpent / Mahaha / Mishibizhiw or Underwater Panther / Nalusa Falaya / Nida / Oniate / Piasa / Psonen / Pukwudgie / Qalupalik / Rougarou or Werewolf / Skinwalker / Tlanusi / Tsenahale / Utlunta or Spearfinger / Wendigo or Windigo / Yeitso

Adlet / Agloolik / Amarok / Amhuluk / Aziwugum / Baxbakwala / Cervitaur / Fastachee / Hinqumemen or Engulfer / Ijiraq / Ishigaq / Isitoq / Kokogiak or Qupqugiaq / Raven Mocker / Thunderbird / Tizheruk / Tupilaq / Ugjuknarpak

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CENTRAL AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY / FOLKLORE (Aztec, Mayan, Mexican)

The Reptilian Xhumpedzkin are famous for the lethal headaches they cause with their psychic aura’s. They feed on other creatures shadows.

Ahuizotl / Camazotz / Cipactli / Lechuza / Nagual / Xhumpedzkin

Camulatz / Chaneque / Huay Chivo / Quetzalcoatl / Tezcatlipoca

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SOUTH AMERICAN MYTHOLOGY / FOLKLORE / CRYPTIDS (Brazilian, Chilean, Paraguay, Colombia, Venezuela, Patagonian, Surinam and Argentina)  

Cherufe are the voice, will and mobility of a living volcano. They can take any shape they like but are always formed from lava and magma. Inside their volcanic homes these elementals are invincible, only outside the volcano the creature can be slain. 

Abuhuku / Alicanto / Caleuche or Ghost Ship / Candileja / Cherufe / Chon Chon / Cuero / Curupira / Eintykara / Encantado / Inulpamahuida / Invunche / Kayeri / Mapinguari / Minhocao / Nguruvilu / Peuchen / Succarath / Tuyango

Anhanga / Ao Ao / Boitata / Bush Dai Dai / Camahueto / Capelobo / Colo Colo / Cuca / El Tunche / Huallepen / Kori / Yacuruna

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AFRICAN FOLKLORE AND CRYPTIDS (Central and South African Countries)

The Migas in Mythika kinda resembles the LOTRing’s Watcher in the Water. Swamp Octopi with more than twenty tentacles, fighting one of these aberrations is like fighting an entire army of tentacles.

Aigamuxa / Asanbosam or Sasabonsam / Bouda or Werehyena / Cagn or Mantis / Dingonek / Eloko or Biloko / Emela Ntouka / Gbahali / Impundulu or Lightning Bird / Intulo / Jba Fofi / Kongamato / Lukwata / Lunwaba / Mbielu Mbielu / Migas / Mngwa or Nunda / Nandi Bear or Chemosit / Popobawa / Umdhlebi / Ya-Te-Veo

Abada / Adze / Anansi / Aziza / Chipfalamfula / Emere / Gambo / Grootslang / Jengu / Kwamang-A / Mokele-Mbembe / Ngoubou / Nguma-Monene / Ninki Nanka / Olitiau / Rompo / Yehwe Zogbanu

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EGYPTIAN MYTHOLOGY (Ancient Egyptian Mythology)

Sak are strange, wingless Griffons with a beautiful lotus flower on the end of their tails. This lotus flower releases a calming fragrance which takes away aggression in its victims. Sak love the flesh of Unicorns and other equine creatures.

Ammit or Devourer / Khepri / Petsuchos / Sak / Salawa or Set Animal

Axex / Heqet / Mummy / Phoenix or Firebird / Serket / Serpopard

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LEVANTINE FOLKLORE, RELIGION, MYTHOLOGY ( Arabian, Persian, Iran, Iraq, Turkish, Sumerian, Mesopotamian, Akkadian and Middle East)

The centaur-like Urmahlullu combines the best features of the lion and a humanoid. They are the perfect hunters and both gentle and evil variants exist.

Aghash or Evil Eye / Asag / Asdeev / Bushyasta / Caspilly / Devalpa / Druj Nasu / Dybbuk / Fulad-Zereh / Ghul or Ghoul / Girtablilu or Aqrabuamelu / Golem / Ifrit or Efreet / Jidra / Karkadann / Manticore / Miraj or Almiraj / Ouktazaun / Roc or Rukh / Sandwalker / Shadhavar or Siranis / Tiamat / Urmahlullu / Zaratan

Anzu / Arzshenk / Asena / Djinn / Ghawwas / Humbaba / Lilith / Palis / Pazuzu

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HINDU BELIEFS (Hindu Religion, Buddhism)

Raktavija are masters in blood magic, they can animate and harden their own demonic blood into shields, armor and weapons. To refill their lost blood they simply drain other creatures dry of theirs.

Juggernaut / Rakshasa / Raktavija / Virabhadra / Vish Kanya or Poison Girl / Vritra 

Airavata / Apaosha / Garuda / Makara / Naga 

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JAPANESE MYTHOLOGY AND FOLKLORE (Yokai, Japanese Stories)

Oh, can I keep it? Keukegen look like fuzzy, innocent creatures made entirely from hairs, in reality they spread horrid itching diseases and in the worst case a victim will scratch its own skin off.

Akaname or Filth Licker / Ashinaga-Jin / Bakekujira or Ghost Whale / Baku / Dorotabo / Enenra / Gashadokuro / Harionago / Heikegani / Isonade / Ittan-Momen / Jinmenju / Jorogumo / Jubokko or Vampire Tree / Kamaitachi or Sickle Weasel / Kappa / Keukegen / Kurage-no-Hinotama / Muramasa Blade / Namazu / Nekomata or Bakeneko / Nogitsune or Kumiho / Nurikabe / Omukade / Otoroshi / Raiju or Thunder Beast / Rokurokubi / Sagari / Sazae-Oni / Tenaga-Jin / Tengu / Tenome / Tera-Tsutsuki / Tesso / Tsuchigumo / Umibozu or Sea Bonze / Wanyudo / Yuki-Onna or Snow Maiden

Akashita / Ame-Onna / Hahakigami / Hannya / Hyakume / Jinshin Mushi / Kamikiri / Kasa Obake / Kasha / Katsura-Otoko / Kirin or Qilin / Kitsune / Mekurabe / Nodeppo / Nue / Nure-Onna / Oni / Shachihoko / Suiko / Tanuki / Yanagi-Baba

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CHINESE MYTHOLOGY AND FOLKLORE (China, Chinese Stories)

Xiao or Hsigo are kleptomaniac pests, they steal for the act of stealing and even attack other creatures to rob them of their possessions, especially gemstones and golden coins are wanted by the little thieves. Their leaders are called Ahools and they combine baboons with bat features.

Dijiang / Gaki or Preta / Kun Peng / Shen or Chan / Taotie / Terra-Cotta Warrior / Xiao or Hsigo / Xing Tian / Zhenniao

Azure Dragon / Bai Ze / Byakko / Dragon Turtle / Feng Huang / Genbu / Nian / Pixiu / Zheng

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POLYNESIAN MYTHOLOGY AND FOLKLORE (Philippines, Indonesia, Melanesian, Malaysian, Solomon Islands and Vietnam)

Terrifying aberrations, the Kurita use their many arms for swift locomotion, grabbing their victims along the way, they can eat and move at the same time without much trouble.

Abaia / Abere / Adaro / Bakunawa / Batibat or Bangungot / Berbalang / Bonguru / Con Rit / Dalaketnon / Jenglot / Kurita / Mambabarang / Nuno / Orang Minyak / Polong / Pua Tu Tahi / Sigbin / Tikbalang / Tiyanak

Ahool / Anggitay / Aswang or Manananggalen / Babi Ngepet / Banaspati / Berberoka / Bungisngis / Gawigawen / Genderuwo / Imoogi or Imugi / Kapre / Pelesit / Sarangay / Siyokoy / Tiburones / Toyol / Veo

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AUSTRALIAN MYTHOLOGY, CRYPTIDS AND FOLKLORE (Australian, Aboriginal and New Zealand)

Tiddalik suck up water and spit it at great force at their prey, putting them off balance and turning them into easy prey to swallow. There are also jungle variants of the Tiddalik which shoot with poisonous water and which look like giant mutant poison-arrow frogs, they can climb in trees as well.

Burrunjor / Dheeyabery / Drop Bear / Mokoi / Muldjewangk / Nargun / Papinijuwari / Punga / Taniwha / Whowie / Tiddalik / Wulgaru / Yara-Ma-Yha-Who

Bunyip / Mimi / Minka Bird

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FEARSOME CRITTERS (North American Lumberjack Stories, Cryptids)

Argopelters live high up in the treetops where they use their bizarre tentacle-like arms as whips, they also use them to throw wood-splinters which hit their enemies like bullets, often instantly killing their prey.

Argopelter / Cactus Cat / Hidebehind / Hodag

Hoop Snake / Jackalope / Moskitto / Roperite / Splinter Cat / Squonk

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LEFTOVERS (Modern Cryptids, Caribbean, Biblical, Himalayan, Dante’s Inferno and Alien Sightings)

Rat Kings are bizarre beasts which appear like a swarm of rats which tails are all tangled together into an impossible situation. These swarms of rats have a single mind and their diseased aura will cause the pest into any creature that lives close by.

Apocalypse Locust / Chupacabra / Death Worm / Gray or Dover Demon / Mad Gasser / Morgawr / Mothman / Ooze / Rat King / Tooth Fairy / Wolpertinger / Zombie

Beelzebub / Behemoth / Bloody Mary / Boo Hag / Cecaelia / Gowrow / Gremlin / Grendel / Guardian Angel / Horseman of Death / Horseman of Famine / Horseman of Pestilence / Horseman of War / Jack-O-Lantern / Jersey Devil / Leraje / Leviathan / Lusca / Poltergeist / Reptilian or Lizardman / Tree Octopus / Tulpa / Yeti or Abominable Snowman

EDIT: While most of my follower probably already know the descriptions underneath the pictures are from my own project Mythika, they aren’t 100% like the real myth. The collected groups are from the real myths. Though I made a much better version here: https://myth-lord.tumblr.com/post/160584821204/creatures-from-around-the-world-2

ALL PICTURES FOUND ON GOOGLE-PICTURES, CREDITS TO ALL THE ARTISTS, NOT MY WORK!

[a-fake-author]

When I was nine, possibly ten, an author came to our school to talk about writing. His name was Hugh Scott, and I doubt he’s known outside of Scotland. And even then I haven’t seen him on many shelves in recent years in Scotland either. But he wrote wonderfully creepy children’s stories, where the supernatural was scary, but it was the mundane that was truly terrifying. At least to little ten year old me. It was Scooby Doo meets Paranormal Activity with a bonny braw Scottish-ness to it that I’d never experienced before.

I remember him as a gangling man with a wiry beard that made him look older than he probably was, and he carried a leather bag filled with paper. He had a pen too that was shaped like a carrot, and he used it to scribble down notes between answering our (frankly disinterested) questions. We had no idea who he was you see, no one had made an effort to introduce us to his books. We were simply told one morning, ‘class 1b, there is an author here to talk to you about writing’, and this you see was our introduction to creative writing. We’d surpassed finger painting and macaroni collages. It was time to attempt Words That Were Untrue.

You could tell from the look on Mrs M’s face she thought it was a waste of time. I remember her sitting off to one side marking papers while this tall man sat down on our ridiculously short chairs, and tried to talk to us about what it meant to tell a story. She wasn’t big on telling stories, Mrs M. She was also one of the teachers who used to take my books away from me because they were “too complicated” for me, despite the fact that I was reading them with both interest and ease. When dad found out he hit the roof. It’s the one and only time he ever showed up to the school when it wasn’t parents night or the school play. After that she just left me alone, but she made it clear to my parents that she resented the fact that a ten year old used words like ‘ubiquitous’ in their essays. Presumably because she had to look it up.

Anyway, Mr Scott, was doing his best to talk to us while Mrs M made scoffing noises from her corner every so often, and you could just tell he was deflating faster than a bouncy castle at a knife sharpening party, so when he asked if any of us had any further questions and no one put their hand up I felt awful. I knew this was not only insulting but also humiliating, even if we were only little children. So I did the only thing I could think of, put my hand up and said “Why do you write?”

I’d always read about characters blinking owlishly, but I’d never actually seen it before. But that’s what he did, peering down at me from behind his wire rim spectacles and dragging tired fingers through his curly beard. I don’t think he expected anyone to ask why he wrote stories. What he wrote about, and where he got his ideas from maybe, and certainly why he wrote about ghosts and other creepy things, but probably not why do you write. And I think he thought perhaps he could have got away with “because it’s fun, and learning is fun, right kids?!”, but part of me will always remember the way the world shifted ever so slightly as it does when something important is about to happen, and this tall streak of a man looked down at me, narrowed his eyes in an assessing manner and said, “Because people told me not to, and words are important.”

I nodded, very seriously in the way children do, and knew this to be a truth. In my limited experience at that point, I knew certain people (with a sidelong glance to Mrs M who was in turn looking at me as though she’d just known it’d be me that type of question) didn’t like fiction. At least certain types of fiction. I knew for instance that Mrs M liked to read Pride and Prejudice on her lunch break but only because it was sensible fiction, about people that could conceivably be real. The idea that one could not relate to a character simply because they had pointy ears or a jet pack had never occurred to me, and the fact that it’s now twenty years later and people are still arguing about the validity of genre fiction is beyond me, but right there in that little moment, I knew something important had just transpired, with my teacher glaring at me, and this man who told stories to live beginning to smile. After that the audience turned into a two person conversation, with gradually more and more of my classmates joining in because suddenly it was fun. Mrs M was pissed and this bedraggled looking man who might have been Santa after some serious dieting, was starting to enjoy himself. As it turned out we had all of his books in our tiny corner library, and in the words of my friend Andrew “hey there’s a giant spider fighting a ghost on this cover! neat!” and the presentation devolved into chaos as we all began reading different books at once and asking questions about each one. “Does she live?”— “What about the talking trees” —“is the ghost evil?” —“can I go to the bathroom, Miss?” —“Wow neat, more spiders!”

After that we were supposed to sit down, quietly (glare glare) and write a short story to show what we had learned from listening to Mr Scott. I wont pretend I wrote anything remotely good, I was ten and all I could come up with was a story about a magic carrot that made you see words in the dark, but Mr Scott seemed to like it. In fact he seemed to like all of them, probably because they were done with such vibrant enthusiasm in defiance of the people who didn’t want us to.

The following year, when I’d moved into Mrs H’s class—the kind of woman that didn’t take away books from children who loved to read and let them write nonsense in the back of their journals provided they got all their work done—a letter arrived to the school, carefully wedged between several copies of a book which was unheard of at the time, by a new author known as J.K. Rowling. Mrs H remarked that it was strange that an author would send copies of books that weren’t even his to a school, but I knew why he’d done it. I knew before Mrs H even read the letter.

Because words are important. Words are magical. They’re powerful. And that power ought to be shared. There’s no petty rivalry between story tellers, although there’s plenty who try to insinuate it. There’s plenty who try to say some words are more valuable than others, that somehow their meaning is more important because of when it was written and by whom. Those are the same people who laud Shakespeare from the heavens but refuse to acknowledge that the quote “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them“ is a dick joke.

And although Mr Scott seems to have faded from public literary consumption, I still think about him. I think about his stories, I think about how he recommended another author and sent copies of her books because he knew our school was a puritan shithole that fought against the Wrong Type of Wordes and would never buy them into the library otherwise. But mostly I think about how he looked at a ten year old like an equal and told her words and important, and people will try to keep you from writing them—so write them anyway.

[a-fake-author]

8 Character Creation Tips (for DnD or just writing in general)

1. Have a goal

While it may sound like I’m stating the obvious here, your character needs to have something they want to accomplish. Maybe they want to be the best at something, see a place, fall in love, conquer the world, or something else. Whatever it is, they need to have something that they desire beyond all other things. Ideally, give them more than one goal. Make them have to sacrifice one to achieve the other, to add extra drama

2. Have a reputation

Maybe they’re the best artist in their class or they’re great at juggling. Perhaps they slipped on the stairs in front of their whole village. Either way, give something for the locals to remember about them. That way it can give you a starting point for the interactions with other characters

3. Have a friend

Whether a friend, a coworker, a sibling, an army buddy, or someone they saved, have someone close to your character whom they’re close to and wish well. Yeah, angsty “I have no friends” characters can be fun, but in small doses; eventually the reader gets fed up with them. At the very least the character needs someone to talk to or bounce ideas off of

4. Have a home

It may be a neighborhood they grew up in, their parents’ house, or a room they’ve been renting in a tavern. Hell, it could even be a person if you so choose. Everyone needs to feel secure at one time or another

5. Have a signature item

Now, recognize that this may not work for EVERY character, but it’s up to you to decide what will fit and what won’t. In many cases, it can work. A signature item is something that is recognizably YOUR CHARACTER’S, be it a weapon, a scarf, a toy, or a piece of jewelry. It’s something that makes them feel like themself

6. Have a problem

This should be something other than the problem addressed in the main plot line. Maybe a member of their family is sick, they are broke, or they’re failing their classes. This helps make your character seem more realistic because NO ONE has one problem at a time

7. Have a secret

This can affect the plot or not; either way, it helps make your character more well rounded. Maybe your character can’t read, left their crewmates to die when a kracken attacked their ship, or made their long lost sister run away. If you choose to have it affect the plot in any way, this secret should embarrass your character, make it so that other characters don’t trust your character, or somehow endanger them and the people they’re close to if found out

8. Have a reason to be brave and to fight

Maybe it’s because your character wants to be like their hero, maybe it’s so they can repay a debt (like if someone saved their life previously), maybe it’s for their child, but your character needs to have a reason to occasionally face their fears

Have fun!!!

[a-fake-author]

aww nasa has a page for space technology terms you can use in science fiction

nerds