benjaminrydersnest

[benjaminrydersnest]

If you think about it,

A two-character ship has a lot of potential angles, but by far my favorite is changing it so that it’s two entirely different characters unrelated to the original two in any way shape or form with an altered dynamic that despite it all manages to look like the same ship to an outsider.

…The Ship of Theseus

[benjaminrydersnest]

“I can fix him.”

And how far will you go? How desperate are you to see them become better, to see them fix themselves?

Is it perhaps a result of your own experience that you can’t bear seeing others suffer the way you have, so you feel obligated to protect and fix those like you, so the world can be a little kinder?

Is it perhaps that it is painful to see them continually hurt themselves just to escape, to see them make the very same mistakes you have?

Is it perhaps that you love them, not as a partner of romance, but as someone you can be close with, because you’re really not so different, and you two are dearest friends, deeper than you could possibly imagine?

Is is perhaps that, on some deeper level, you’re still suffering, too, and this attempt to “fix” them is a thinly veiled way to be “enough?”

Because man,

Me too.

[benjaminrydersnest]

👀

[benjaminrydersnest]

Honestly fuck attention-killing culture for normalizing the cutting of “fluff” and “filler,” fuck it for forcing 1-3 line “hooks,” fuck it for making it feel like people adjusting for it have to dial back vitally important characters and arcs just to capture attention.

I don’t care what the “norm” is. I’m going to keep writing my very long, detail and dialogue heavy intros and full character arcs with lots of “filler” and “fluff” because that’s how I make the stories I want to tell and what makes them align with my vision.

[benjaminrydersnest]

Repeat after me: Being "redeemed" does not mean you are forgiven, it does not mean you have friends, it does not mean you deserve kindness, and it does not mean you cannot go back. Being redeemed is simply the choice to do the right thing in someone's judgement. It doesn't even require change, and it certainly can be actions that are ostensibly evil.

Though, it should be noted that a character cannot simply do whatever they want forever and always be right. They can certainly think that but that doesn’t mean it’s true.

[benjaminrydersnest]

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

[benjaminrydersnest]

Hiya! It’s been a while since I made one of these, but I’m very excited to announce my current novel-in-progress…

Warhouse!

(Yes, the exclamation point is a part of the title and it is very necessary)

The premise is that it’s a medieval-adjacent magical fantasy… filled to the brim with metajokes and commentary on the genre as a whole, the world, our own history, stuff like that. It sort of breaks the rules of the genre, in a sense.

The premise is *also* that 1000 years after the birth of the Kingdom of Mayfellow, the dwarves have taken the lands for themselves, sparking a war between themselves and the Fae Folk as the rest (the Goblins, Human, Orcs and the like) scramble for power and dominance. Meanwhile, they’re all looking for one little boy, who is known by many to be the last of the Gray Ones…

I’ll reveal more information including history, character details, and more later, but for now that’s all.

[benjaminrydersnest]

Writing a novel when you imagine all you stories in film format is hard because there’s really no written equivalent of “lens flare” or “slow motion montage backed by Gregorian choir”

[benjaminrydersnest]

Must there always be a binary? It’s not just “boy” or “girl.” There’s a secret third option to this false dichotomy, called “both.”

There’s a secret fourth option called “neither,” and a secret fifth option called “yes,” and a secret sixth option called “I don’t fucking know,” and a secret seventh option called “I don’t give a shit,” and a secret eight option called “it depends,” and a secret-

And the fucked up part is that it’s all a complex skill tree. I’ve spent a couple years spec’ing into the tree and only gotten the “it depends” option

[benjaminrydersnest]

It was broken. It had been broken for quite a few days now. The worst part was not the pain. Sure, he had soon come to regret it when its shards embedded themselves in his knuckles. The hospital visit later had been as embarrassing as it had been painful. Later, though, he had realized how necessary it was… Much like the action itself.  When he lived with the other children in The Yard, he never had the luxury of his own room. The few times he was alone, it was in a solitary room, shut off from everything else. Every other waking hour, including bathroom time, was monitored by The Wardens, as the children called them. Those rooms… Those secluded and hidden safety chambers, they were never his. To have his own room, his own home, was a gift he never imagined he’d have. So when the mirror arrived… for the first time in his entire life, he saw reflected something he had never seen before. It was a small boy, with worn mayflower yellow eyes, a thicket of hair covering his forehead.  A certain feeling sparked, in the corner of his eye, burning and painful, yet, much like the hospital visit, necessary. What he saw reflected now… was a bit different. He saw a little boy, pale and green, with the same eyes, thicker hair, but… a boy that was damaged. A boy that was scarred, a boy that was, at the moment, softly sobbing. The very same little boy that, all that time ago, had never, ever been able to stand up to the rest of the kids in The Yard.  A small inhale, barely enough to steady him. It had felt wrong, ultimately. He understood, really, why the other “little boy” was that way… Innocence, weakness… happiness. He wasn’t yet forged by something that, really, no one should have to be subject to. More and more, as he saw him getting bullied, verbally and physically, he felt a strong desire to protect that little boy. Because that little boy was him, ultimately. What he had been, anyway. And he would never, ever let anyone else be hurt- not in the way he was hurt. “The Bully Code-” an arbitrary set of rules, imposed for no reason, unfair to everyone not in a position of power. Ironically, though, it often worked against them, because, to have power… was to be one of the weakest in The Yard, though he would only realize that much, much later.  The little boy he saw in the fragments gave him a horribly, horribly familiar feeling. The kind of feeling that called him… called him to fix that little boy. To put him back together, and to make sure he did not suffer- not again, anyway. It was, ultimately, a matter of selfishness. He had been molded by The Yard, but the person those children made him, it wasn’t him. The boy reflected now… and the boy he wanted to protect… They really weren’t so different. In the end, the boy reflected in this broken mirror was more him than he’d ever been in his sixteen years of life. So, really, it made sense that the carpet below was progressively getting wetter as his entire frame shook. It made sense, on that day, why that “little boy” had meant so much in that moment. An exhale follows a sob, carrying an air of finality. He looks away from the mirror, turning around. He didn’t care anymore if he was “weak…” all that mattered- all that mattered, at this point, was doing what his mother had told him, all that time ago:  “Follow your heart… one step at a time.”  When again Darren glances back at his reflection, his eyes flash a bright blue, just for a moment. 

[benjaminrydersnest]

I've had an overactive imagination my whole life, and, even as an adult, it shows no signs of slowing down. But... Here's the thing. One really weird side effect of this is I can tend to think about certain things (like, for instance, expanding my horizons and testing the waters, normally figurative concepts) in a very literal sense, or, more accurately, I think of them in terms of visual metaphors I've associated with them. Like, when I need to relieve stress? Golden Feather from Celeste. When I'm "testing the waters"? I see hands reaching into darkness. I think I might be autistic.

[benjaminrydersnest]

Are the stars not just a blip in a vast black ocean? No... What we see, what we know... all this place is so vast, and yet here we are. That's beautiful, in its own way. Whatever other life may be, it may not know of us, but we are here, we are aware, we know ourselves... And we have community. Some of us observe gods, others do not. There is no right or wrong answer, ultimately. And while we watch the brilliant spectacles, the slow, yet sure dance of light, sound, and particles, there's still yet more unseen, still yet more unexplained, still yet more beyond our kin. Is what we see the gods of this place? I am doubtful. I am sure, to them, there is yet another force we are not aware of even more vast than they. What a fascinating little world we have the pleasure of living in. It might seem pointless, to struggle when every world has its end, but... I believe there is purpose. Or at least, that everyone can find their own meaning. Isn't that what's most important? It's not really about the wondrous phenomena we observe, or the unknown entities that permeate our cosmos. It's about what drives us, and ultimately, that is love.

[benjaminrydersnest]

I'm trying to prove a point to my brain: Reblog if you think fanfiction does not need sex to be good.

There is a trend I’ve noticed that smut fics tend to be much more popular than anything else and honestly I just want to have something to look at to remind myself and that writing doesn’t have to have sex to be worth putting out into the community.

[benjaminrydersnest]

Yo whaddup! Thanks for the tag, I guess I get to talk about my current early indev project, Paranormal Investigations (working title) Part 3 (yes, I’m starting with part 3. It’s an anthology so it’s fine)

The important ones that I’ve actually logged (I actually have a whole note about OC heights, I could talk about any of ‘em for hours… only slightly autistic btw):

Leeroy Young(main detective): 5’ 8”

Henry Lock (Leeroy’s detective partner): 4’ 11”

Flint (Leeroy’s boss): 6’ 2”

Arthur Lock (Henry’s dad and one of the villains of part 3): 5’ 5”

Jack (Member of the City Watch, has weird, seemingly unblinking eyes since… a long time. Strange, that…): 7’ 8”

Notes: of all the detectives in Paranormal Investigations, Leeroy is the second tallest. Henry, comparatively, is the same height as the second shortest main detective. Jack’s unusual height in comparison to everyone may be due to some mutations, but he looks normal aside from his eyes, so it might be nothing? It’s a bit tricky to try and parse.

Leaving an open tag as per usual :)

Height comparison tag

Thanks for the tag @bunnymermaidwrites

Rules: List the height of your OCs, add any notes you like, and make a chart!

Here, from shortest to tallest are some of the cast from A Feather in the Forest:

Fen: 30 in.

Playa: 33 in.

Opal: 33 in.

Sorrel: 33 in.

Caine: 35 in.

Notes:

• I do my best to have the heights of characters reflect that of their respective species, but some liberties have been taken (I’ve got a good in-universe reason for this, but I can’t say at the moment)

• An example of the above would be Fen. He’s a crow, but his size is approaching raven territory.

• As in real life, there is a height difference between characters of the same species, even if it isn’t as clear or obvious in the story.

• Fen and Playa still have some growing left in them.

Tagging @kaylinalexanderbooks @fortunatetragedy @ahordeofwasps @the-golden-comet @winterandwords

@illarian-rambling @somethingclevermahogony @the-ellia-west @oh-no-another-idea @buffythevampirelover

@jay-avian @melpomene-grey and open tag

[benjaminrydersnest]

Last night I had the strangest dream, That the petals of roses and sunflowers drifted along the breeze. And the sunlight shone through the canopy of leaves, But I couldn't help but think it was all constructed by some malicious machine. To break myself and my idyllic partner out of this felt mean, But the imperfections and minute details stuck out like the sun's beams. When I woke up this morning, I wrote this letter, Thinking- Knowing I could do better.

[benjaminrydersnest]

"I know your pain. I know your name. I see you in the darkness and I feel your rage. I know what it's like, to be shattered like glass. To hold on until your last in a desperate, unwavering spark of hope that gets ultimately and cruelly snuffed out. I did to you. You did it to me. I shouldn't forgive you for what you've done, but... I know it wasn't you. And besides... who could share this with me but you?"

[benjaminrydersnest]

"Those that are fragile can be broken," "Those that are weak can be controlled," "Pull the strings and make them ring." -Mr. Valentine, Fallen Angels