#I'll be gone for five days so I won't get to work on my comic anymore and I'm 🥺🥺🥺 about it

[skellagirl]

more Harvey, bc my brain is only capable of focusing on like three things at any given time

imagining he works out with the ladies at Pierre's place and the farmer is peeking around the corner like 😳

[bluejaysandblackbats]

The Brother Trap

Fandom: DC Comics, Flashfam

Summary: Owen wants to connect with his half-brothers for the first time. Luckily for him, they all go to the same university. Will bad blood between twins keep Owen from the family of his dreams, or is he the missing piece they've always needed?

Chapters: 5/?

Characters: Owen Mercer, Axel Walker, Thad Thawne, Bart Allen, Meloni Thawne, Deborah Morgna, Preston Lindsay, President Thaddeus Thawne Mention

Relationships: Owen Mercer/Axel Walker, Thad Thawne/Deborah Morgna, PrestonBart

Additional Tags: POV Third Person, College AU, Angst and Fluff, Family Dynamics, Family Issues, No Powers AU

Chapter Five: Sportsmanship

Owen sat at the top of the bleachers watching the sunrise. He hadn't been able to sleep, so he thought it'd be nice to be out in the open air. Someone tapped his shoulder and startled him. He turned around to look Thad in the eye. "Jeez, how'd you—? Good morning, Thad," Owen whispered.

"Morning," Thad mumbled. Owen offered him some hot tea. "No thanks."

"Thad, is something bothering you?" Owen whispered. Thad nodded and looked straight out into the horizon.

Thad wanted to say something, so Owen stayed silent. He didn't want to risk cutting Thad off and having him shut down. "Bart and I have sleeping problems. He gets restless, and I have nightmares. Sometimes, I wake up from a nightmare, and I watch him until I can go back to sleep," Thad confessed, "I think it's the nicest thing he can do for me sometimes. It's the only time when I don't feel... Inferior."

Owen took a sip of tea and nodded, waiting for Thad to continue. When he didn't, Owen asked about his nightmares. "Sometimes my mom had to go away for work, and she'd leave us with family or friends of the family... But we're twins, and sometimes that can be a lot to handle, so we'd be split up for whatever time she was gone. I'd usually stay with our grandpa, and he'd go stay with our Uncle Max," Thad took a breath, "He's not really our uncle. He just cares about us... About Bart."

"Yeah, what's your grandpa like?" Owen asked.

"Well, he was rigid, competitive, cold. Nothing I did was ever good enough," Thad explained, "Bart and I were fourteen in track together. We used to do three events each. Our third was the relay. We were evenly matched back then, so we took turns being an anchor.

Grandpa showed up to watch us race, and everything was going great. I was the anchor, but our third was slow on the exchange, and I got second. I knew what Grandpa would say, and when Bart came to congratulate me after the race, I snapped at him. I hit him, and I'll never be able to take that back.

I have nightmares about losing him all the time, but I can't tell him that. I haven't earned the right to tell him that-."

"Thad, I'm no expert on siblings or anything, but maybe telling him about stuff like that'll make you seem more human to him. I was mentored by a guy a while back to keep me out of trouble after my dad died, and I hated him. I thought he was such a jerk. Then one day, I saw him fall apart at his desk. After that, he didn't seem so terrible. He seemed like a regular guy trying to make a difference," Owen explained, "Besides, I'm sure he wouldn't want to lose you either. Maybe he thinks you hate him."

"I don't," Thad blurted out, but he understood what Owen meant. "But if I tell him about that, I'll have to tell him how I put in the applications for us to be roommates."

"He'll get over it, but I'd open with that. Bart's got a pretty short attention span," Owen replied. Thad nodded.

"Are you gonna be here for a while?" Thad questioned. Owen nodded. "I'm gonna race Bart this morning..."

"Why?" Owen asked. Thad shrank down and pulled his hood up.

"Swear you won't laugh," Thad commanded in a feeble voice.

Owen punched him in the shoulder playfully. "On my life," he answered gently.

"I wanted him to show me how to play rugby. I didn't wanna tell you that I don't know how to play because I wanted to hang out with you," Thad confessed.

"I kinda figured you didn't know what rugby was... The thing is, I don't care what we do this week. I just wanted to hang out with you," Owen revealed. As the sun rose, they heard the loud snapping noise of skateboard wheels rolling over the cracks on the sidewalk.

"Bart's here," Thad whispered. Owen offered to hold Thad's jacket for him until he got back.

He watched as Thad rushed down the bleachers to the track and met with Bart. They exchanged words, and Thad pointed up at Owen. Bart waved, and Owen waved back. "Can you tell us when?" Bart yelled.

"Let me know when you're ready!" Owen yelled as he took his duffel and Thad's jacket down to the benches by the track. Bart and Thad stretched and took their marks. Thad looked serious, but Bart seemed beside himself with joy. "Well, you're already on your marks," Owen joked, "Get set... Go!"

The twins took off with a sprint, and Owen sat down on the benches. He took out his phone and videotaped the race, which worked out in everyone's favor because it was close. Bart won by a hair, but Bart didn't stop to see who won before embracing Thad. He picked him up and swung him around. Owen scratched his head and chuckled to himself.

Bart let Thad go, and Thad dusted himself off. He said something to Bart, and they waved Owen over. He walked over to the twins, and Thad invited him to breakfast. "Do you have morning classes today?" Thad asked.

"No, I was just here to watch the sun come up," Owen answered. They walked to the Big Belly Burger together, and the girl from the night shift was back at the register. "Hey, Thad, that's the girl from the other night." He gave Thad a gentle shove forward. "Go talk to her."

Thad approached the register, and the girl smiled at him. "I like your hair," she whispered.

"Oh, I was gonna fix it-."

"Don't," she whispered, "I'm Deb."

"Thad," Thad whispered. Deb smiled at him.

"Can I take your order?" Deb asked. Thad ordered breakfast, and she wrote her number on the back of the receipt. "Maybe I could spike it for you sometime."

"Huh?" Thad asked.

"Your hair," Deb clarified. She gave him three cups, and Thad chuckled and nodded on his way to the table. Owen nudged him, and his face reddened. He took the receipt and put her number into his phone before sending a text message. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and smiled.

Bart took two cups to fill up with soda, and Thad sat up as if he'd just remembered something. "My mom plays cards twice a month. Once with me and once with Bart... My mom wanted me to ask if you wanted to join us this weekend? It's an open thing-."

"Yeah, okay," Owen answered without thinking. He took a sip of his soda and immediately changed the subject. "You should ask that girl out."

"Yeah?" Thad asked. Owen took another sip of soda and nodded.

"What'd she say to you?" Owen questioned.

"She said she liked my hair," Thad whispered. Owen smiled. "I guess it's not that bad." Thad pulled at his bangs, and Owen chuckled.

Bart sat back down and brought their food over. He had a hashbrown in his mouth. Thad took the bag and chuckled. Bart and Thad didn't say much to one another. Owen didn't mind, though. He could tell they were getting along. "There's a party Friday night," Owen announced, "We should all go."

Thad looked at Bart. "Sounds good to me," Bart replied.

"Okay, I'm game," Thad agreed. Owen smiled and snapped a picture of them. Bart went back to eating, and Thad reached for Owen's phone. "Here, let's get one good one." The three of them pulled in and took pictures together. Owen sent them to his brothers, and he saved one of the pictures as his home screen.

[wiltingredroses]

Venomous: An Extreme Horror Novella Chapter 4: Daugherty Farm: Part 1

This chapter got too long so I had to split it in two. This is actually Chapter 4: Part: 1. The adult adventures of Maeve and Evelyn will continue in Chapter 5. Until then, enjoy this wholesome detour where everything is fine and nothing bad happens at all!

Evelyn and I stand outside of a convenience store, counting what little cash we have left. We have gone almost three days without eating at this point, forgoing food in favor of filling up the truck. We had befriended a group of people back in Minneapolis, one of whom told us about an uncle that lived on a farm in Oklahoma. He said that he'd be happy to let us stay, and even pay us to work for him. Being in pretty desperate need of money, we eagerly accepted the offer. The money Shane gave us lasted us about three months due to my aggressive budgeting. We pulled the lost girls con many times, which worked more often than not. Evelyn was good at finding a couch to sleep on whenever that failed. Worst case scenario, we could always find a cheap motel somewhere. Now, we've found ourselves with five dollars to our name, which we can't afford to spend on anything but gas.

We have become desperate. The hunger pangs are so intense we can't sleep anymore. We need something, anything, to keep us going until we get to Oklahoma. We've done our best to refrain from committing crimes thus far, if only to prevent an encounter with the police. It looks like that is about to change.

“Okay, you distract the clerk. I'll grab what I can.” She says. That's all there is to it. Nothing too complicated. She won't need long, anyway. All I have to do is give her a minute or two.

“Alright, let's do this.” I say. The bell above the door dings as we step inside. Evelyn hurries into a nearby isle before the clerk can spot her. The apathetic long-haired boy lifts his head just as she disappears from view, before his attention drifts back to the comic book in front of him. I smile my friendliest smile as I walk up to the counter. It's just him, as far as I can tell. No other customers either. This should be easy.

“Hello!” I greet the bored-looking clerk behind the counter. He looks up, disinterested.

“Hi. Can I help you?” He asks with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

“Oh, well, I'm a little bit lost. I was wondering if you could give me directions?” I ask.

“Don't you mean “we're a little bit lost”?” He asks.

“I'm not sure what you-”

“The girl that came in with you, that's your friend right?”

“I'm not sure-”

“The girl currently stuffing potato chips into her backpack? That ring a bell?” He asks. I panic, immediately trying to think of an exit strategy. How did he even notice? He barely spared us a glance when we walked in.

“Lucky guess.” He says, noticing the panic in my eyes.

“Look, I don't care. They don't pay me enough to. You two are homeless, right?” He continues.

I nod.

“Take whatever you want. I'm not a nark.” He says and returns to his comic once again.

“Really?” I ask in disbelief.

“Yeah. Really.”

I look up at the surveillance camera on the ceiling. Even if he doesn't stop us, we'll still be caught.

“Doesn't work. Don't worry about it.”

I stare at him for a few more moments before turning and beginning to search for Evelyn. I find her towards the back, stuffing granola bars into a backpack. She looks up as I approach.

“What are you doing? You're supposed to be distracting the clerk!”

“He knows what we're doing. He doesn't care.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Well, shit, help me out then!”

Quickly, we fill our bag as much as we can. I keep glancing at the guy behind the counter, just to be sure he doesn't call the police while we're not looking. He doesn't move the entire time, except to flip a page. As soon as we have taken as much stuff as we can carry, we hurry out the front door. I climb into the passenger's seat with our stolen goods and Evelyn peels out of the parking lot. Regardless of what the clerk said, we aren't going to stick around to get caught.

We drive for a while before pulling into an empty field. Seeing as this is going to be where we are staying for the night, we do our best to make the bed of the truck comfortable. Thankfully we have a few pillows and blankets with us to help. Once we have semi-successfully cushioned the truck bed, we empty out our bag to see what we made off with. There wasn't a whole lot of logic when it came to what we took. We were just blindly grabbing and stuffing whatever looked passable into the bag. Thankfully, we have plenty to get us to Oklahoma without having to ration it out.

We immediately begin stuffing our faces. I'm halfway through my second candy bar when Evelyn stops me.

“Slow down, bunny. You're going to make yourself sick.” She pulls a bag of trail mix out of the pile and hands it to me.

“Eat this. You need something with actual nutrition.” She says before returning to her protein bar.

Once our stomachs are satisfied, we try to get comfortable. I lay next to Evelyn underneath a blanket, but I can't seem to relax.

“What's wrong?” She asks.

“I feel exposed being in a wide open space like this. What if someone finds us? We're probably trespassing.”

“Then you sleep and I'll keep watch. We'll take shifts, okay?” She says. I would feel guilty having her take the first shift. She's probably far more tired than me, seeing as I'm not the one driving.

“You sleep first.” I say.

“Yeah, and have you fall asleep on me? I don't think so. Shut up and sleep.” She says, tossing a pillow at my face. I don't bother to argue further. Once she's made up her mind, there's no convincing her otherwise.

-

I don't know how long I manage to sleep before I am awoken by raindrops falling onto my face. I look over to see Evelyn hastily packing up our stuff.

“Of course.” I mutter under my breath.

“Looks like we're spending the night inside the truck.” Evelyn says.

Together, we gather our stuff and cover it with a tarp to protect it from the rain. By the time we climb back into the truck, we are dripping wet and freezing. We try to get some sleep, unconcerned with being confronted by any strangers now that we are safely locked inside. Neither of us manage to sleep for very long considering the uncomfortable position we found ourselves in. With the promise of a roof over our heads waiting for us in Oklahoma, we waste no time getting back on the road first thing in the morning.

-

It takes us another two days to reach our destination. We get very little sleep as the rain seems to follow us, forcing us to sleep in the cramped conditions of Evelyn's truck. When we finally drive up the dirt driveway to the farmhouse we are exhausted and filthy.

We spot a man on the front porch of the house. I can only assume this is the uncle we have been told about. He is younger than I expected. I doubt he is any older than forty. As we climb out of the truck, I become instantly aware of the fact that we haven't showered in about two weeks and our clothes haven't been washed in three. God only knows what is running through that man's head as we approach the house.

“Can I help you girls?” He calls out to us. I decide to take the lead for once, as Evelyn doesn't always leave a good impression on this type.

“Hello! We met your nephew about a week ago. He said you would be expecting us?” I say as we walk up the front steps. Recognition falls over his face almost immediately.

“Why, you must be Maeve and Evelyn! I was starting to think you were a couple of no-shows!” He says, practically jumping to his feet in excitement. He hurries over to us, grabbing my hands and shaking them enthusiastically before doing the same to Evelyn.

“Come in, come in!” He says as he pushes us into the house. The inside is about what I expected. The décor seems to have been pulled straight out of the 1940's, which tells me that he probably inherited it from an elderly relative. I don't see anything resembling modern technology other than an ancient radio perched on a side table. The air is musty and stale like the room had sat empty for a decade before we arrived. Despite this, the room is remarkably clean. While a bit cluttered with relics of the past, I don't see a speck of dust of dirt. You would expect a farmer's home to be a little dirty. I would assume it is simply an unavoidable result of the profession.

“As excited as I am to give you the full tour, I think you girls are in desperate need of a bath and a meal first.” He says. We glance at each other briefly. Our faces are dirty and our hair is slick with grease while our clothes are stained and torn. I'm sure that our combined stench is overwhelmingly foul, but we've long grown blind to it. We've found that people are increasingly unkind the more homeless you appear. So many people were happy to help us when we were well-kept and nicely dressed, but that help soon dried up when it became obvious that we were not prim and proper girls that just happened to take a wrong turn somewhere.

“That would be appreciated, thank you.”

-

The man shows us to our room where we drop off our meager belongings. We learn that his name is Wayne Daugherty, and that he inherited this farm from his great aunt and uncle about a decade ago. After we properly introduce ourselves, he hands us each a stack of clothes and points me towards the bathroom just down the hall. He then goes to show Evelyn the second bathroom upstairs, leaving me by myself.

I enter the bathroom and set the clothes down on a nearby stool. Much like the rest of the house, the bathroom features are quite old and outdated. There's no shower, just a slightly elevated clawfoot bathtub in the middle of the room. I let the water run while I get undressed, inspecting my clothes as I do so. It used to be my favorite dress, having been a Christmas gift from my aunt. The once mint green dress had turned brownish after not being washed for as long as it had. It was covered in rips and tears and missing a button or two. I clutched it for a moment, sighed, and tossed it into the waste bin.

I test the water before stepping into the tub. It feels weird to be taking an actual bath for the first time since leaving home. Evelyn and I have become used to doing things as quickly as possible, never slowing down long enough to do something as simple as having a bath. These days it's mostly truck stop showers and skinny dipping in rivers. Every once in awhile Evelyn and I can sweet talk some horny guy into using his shower before leaving him high and dry. The hot water is comforting, like an all-consuming hug. The aches and pains from weeks of poor sleeping conditions are relieved almost instantly.

I scrub down every inch of my body, not leaving a single crevice untouched. I wash my hair with probably three times the amount of shampoo required, watching as the water turns a disturbing brownish color as I do so. Suddenly disgusted by the realization that I am sitting in my own filth, I rinse myself off and get out of the tub.

I grab a towel from a nearby shelf and press my face into it for a moment. It's a pure, clean white color and doesn't smell like mildew. I bet this guy actually washes them more than once every three months. I dry myself off and start going through the pile of clothes. They consist of a yellow short-sleeve t-shirt and denim overall shorts. They certainly aren't my style, but they are my size weirdly enough. I get dressed and look at myself in the full length mirror in the corner of the bathroom. I can't help but wonder why he just had this stuff sitting around. In the moment though, I can't find it in me to care all that much. I'm just content to not look a Victorian street urchin anymore.

I leave the bathroom and return to the room we'll be staying in to find Evelyn is sitting on the bed, waiting for me. I almost don't recognize her dressed in bell-bottom denim jeans and flannel.

“How goes it, cowgirl?” She asks with a smirk. I laugh. We barely resemble ourselves dressed the way we are.

“You're missing a vital part of the look, though. C'mere.” She says, gesturing to the spot on the floor in front of her. I have many questions, but in lieu of asking them, I give into her request without a fight. I sit on the ground, my head resting between her knees. She grabs strands of my hair and begins braiding it.

“How do you even know how to do that?” I ask.

“I was in just as many braiding circles in scouts as you were. Now sit still.” She replies.

Eventually, she decides that she is done and allows me to stand up. I walk to the mirror and admire her look. She had tied my hair in a loose braid that hung over my shoulder, fully completing the farmer girl look. Honestly, it kind of works.

“You like it?” Evelyn asks, draping herself over my shoulder.

“I love it.” I reply. She leans in for a kiss and I happily accept. A knock at the door startles us and she jumps back.

“Dinner's ready, girls! Come down to the dining room when you're ready.” Mr. Daugherty calls through the door. We look at each other. We are absolutely desperate for actual food. I don't know how good this guy's cooking skills are, but I'll take unseasoned potatoes and tough overcooked meat over another convenience store snack. If I eat another potato chip I might actually die on the spot.

We eagerly head downstairs to the dining room to find Mr. Daugherty seated at the table. He gestures for us to sit and we do so. Noises in the kitchen imply there is another person living in the house. Just a few moments later, a girl emerges from the kitchen, carry a tray. She looks to be around our age, if maybe a year or two older. She's a tall, skinny girl in a simple blue cotton dress underneath an apron. For a moment I think I've found an answer as to why Mr. Daugherty has girl's clothing on hand, but I quickly realize that we are not the same size at all. She does not make eye contact with us, simply looking forward with a vacant stare.

“Evelyn, Maeve, this is my daughter Mabel.” He says, introducing us.

“Hello!” I say with a wave. Endearing ourselves to the homeowner's daughter is probably the smart move if we wish to stay longer than a few days. I don't know about Evelyn, but I'm not particularly eager to hop back into the truck after the last few weeks we've had.

Mabel does not respond, however. She simply places the tray onto the table and begins handing out our portions. Her gaze is unwavering and for a second I wonder if she can hear or see us at all.

“You'll have to excuse my daughter. She's been a mute since birth.” He says dismissively. After everyone has been served, she grabs the tray and retreats back into the kitchen before returning a few moments later. As much as I want to dive into the bowl of stew and devour it like a feral dog, I manage to restrain myself out of politeness. Evelyn does too, but only because I shoot her a look. Once everyone is at the table, Mr. Daugherty says grace while Evelyn and I pretend to go along with it, sitting awkwardly in silence while shooting each other uncomfortable glances. I sneak a peak at Mabel once, only to catch her piercing eyes staring back at me, forcibly diverting my attention back down to my hands.

Finally, after what seems like forever, we are allowed to eat. I try to maintain an air of courtesy and grace, but the second the taste of food hits my tongue I begin shoveling it down like I'll never eat again. I can't help but feel slightly embarrassed at how quickly I manage to wolf it down. This is somewhat alleviated when I glance at Evelyn to find she had finished long before I had.

“Well that's about the highest compliment you can give a cook, isn't it, Mabel?” He says. Mabel looks at him and nods, acknowledging that she was spoken to for the first time since we've met her.

With my hunger now sated, I decide it's probably a good idea to start asking questions about this strange man and his farm. Inviting teenagers that you've never met to come stay at your farm several states away is a bit... suspect... to say the least.

“So, have you had guests like us before?” I ask, trying to hide my skepticism.

“Oh, many times! I help young people like yourselves whenever I get the chance. If you take a look at the pictures on the walls, you'll see my many, many success stories.” He explains.

“Success stories?” Evelyn asks.

“The ones that are able to get their act together and learn skills that will help them get out the situation they've found themselves in. I don't turn anyone away; whether they be addicts, unwed mothers, prostitutes, runaways, or some combination of the four. Hell, I adopted Mabel as my own so that her mother could get a college education without having a child to worry about.” He says. I find it odd that he talks so openly about the circumstances of Mabel's adoption in front of her, to complete strangers nonetheless, but she doesn't seem to care.

“What about the not-so-successful ones?” I ask, curiously.

“Usually they just up and leave in the middle of the night. As much as it pains me, sometimes I have to ask them to leave if I feel they're making a negative impact on the others.” He says.

“But I never get discouraged! No matter how many refuse my helping hand and go back to their old ways. That's why everyone I know has my permission to send me any strays that cross their path.” Mr. Daugherty says with pride in his voice.

“Sorry to change the subject, but exactly is it that we'll be doing here?” Evelyn asks.

“Oh, just helping me out around the farm. Nothing two strong-willed girls can't handle. Maeve, you seem like the more domestic one out of the two of you, so you'll mostly be inside helping Mabel out around the house. Evelyn, you'll be working outside with me. Does that sound okay to you? If not, you can just stay here for the night and be on your way tomorrow, but I won't have any freeloaders just laying about.” He says.

Evelyn and I look at each other. We don't really need to discuss it. At this point we'll do just about anything to have a bed for the night. When we get bored of it, we'll leave, just like we always do.

“Yes, of course. Whatever you need from us.” I respond.

“Wonderful, just wonderful! Now, you two seem like you're in great need of a rest, so you two can sleep in tomorrow and we won't get started until the day after.”

Evelyn and I exchange glances once again. A real bed, in a real house, that's clean and pest free, plus free food and a salary? We really owe that guy back in Minneapolis big time. Come to think of it, I should really give him a call tomorrow to thank him.

This could be good for us, being able to live normal lives again, even if just for a little while, before we move on to our next adventure.

[comicaurora]

hello! i have a couple questions!!

ysee im in a situation. over the years, i have made Serious Attempts at starting a comic with EIGHT different projects, and none of them have stuck. One of them i even made it 60 pages in before tanking. now im right at the brink of starting my CURRENT project! … for the fifth time…!!

needless to say i am sliiiiiiiiightly worried that this is going to turn out like the last 200,000 attempts. so like.

how do you know when you're ready to start a story?

do you have any experience with false starts, and if so how did you know that this time wasn't just another false start?

how did you handle the transition from the concept and planning part to the actual comic making part ?

and how do you keep going now?

thanks !!!

Whoof, that's a toughie.

I don't know how helpful this will be, but in my experience the only difference between a false start and a long-term commitment is just a matter of willpower - of choosing to keep going after you hit the first wall. Because there will be walls! Every project will eventually hit a bump where you question the value of the entire concept - a tricky bit of plot, an arc you need to scrap and rework, a character you can't get a handle on, a general sense of imposter-syndrome malaise. In fact, if you stick with it long enough, you'll discover that this is a regular occurrence. Walls happen.

The trick, in my experience, is that the wall is a signal, not that the project is a failure or you need to stop, but that you need to put the story down for now. Stories often get polished and worked on when you're NOT actively trying to make progress. My dad calls this "the better writer in the back of your head." That subconscious work can't be done if you're consciously focusing on it, and if you hit a wall where something just isn't working, your BWITBOYH needs a chance to look it over, draw a few connections you maybe hadn't seen, and then bump it back to the front of your brain for approval and execution.

So, ironically, the trick to sticking with a story long term is knowing that when you put it down you can always pick it back up. If an inactive project feels "abandoned" or "failed", you end up with all these negative emotions attached to it that repel you and keep you from picking it back up. That mindset is the real issue - not the work itself. ANY art can have merit; it's not a flaw in the project or in your creative process that makes you step away. The problem is the guilt and the feeling that "oh I ALWAYS abandon things", because that means a natural and unavoidable step in the creative process is just going to make you feel bad and reinforce this spiral. The projects won't judge you for putting them down, and even if you don't end up finishing them, there is always value in picking them back up!

Aurora is a long term project, but there are days - weeks, even - where I make no progress. Months have gone by with me stalled on a storyboard wrestling with writer's block and questioning the point of everything. The trick is I know I can and should indulge those moods, because as long as I don't let it spiral off into self-pity, I'll be chipping away at the problem in the back of my head. I was stalled for literal weeks choreographing an upcoming encounter and what ended up breaking the block was just a tiny new addition - "what if this character had a tool that could do this one thing?" Five pages of storyboarding flowed out that day, and then five more the next, all reshaped by that one additional tool. I'm currently stalled out processing exactly how a single small interaction is going to play out - I know the shape of it, but the character specifics are currently nebulous and hinge on a few larger-scale things I maybe want to use it to plant and pay off. With no angst in this process, I'm not at risk of becoming bogged down in bummers and losing my grip on the story. I know I'll pick it back up, because nothing is stopping me.

[redadm1ral-moved]

Hello! It’s Sunset/Varlaam from the CODMW discord ^w^ I remember your AUs and I love hearing about them, care to tell us some more? Spoilers or not? Have a great day ☺️

Oh hey! It's been a while :D

For my CoD AUs, Apoptosis and Venator, I haven't really developed them much since the last time we've talked, since my focus has mostly been on Call of Honor ;u; (If you or anyone reading have specific questions about them though, feel free to ask!) The same is for my Dishonored AUs, Lorelei and Immram (both are working titles.)

I'm still working on Call of Honor, obvs. I think I've mentioned it here before (I know I mentioned it on Twitter), but Call of Honor has gone from being a tentative trilogy to a five part saga, and I'm planning on covering the events of Dishonored 1, Dishonored 2, and the years between them! I don't plan on adapting DOTO into the Call of Honor universe, and the amount of influence the books and comics have on CoH...well, I picked out some lore and characters I thought were interesting, but that's about it XD

I'm about to babble on and on about what I'm planning bc I'm really excited about it, so I'll put all that stuff below the cut to spare y'all's dashboards. Beware for spoilers if anyone here doesn't want to be spoiled—I'll try not to go into detail, but I do spoil the appearance of certain important characters and whether or not Soap gets to go back home.

Parts One through Four of Call of Honor are going to follow Soap pretty heavily. We already know what Part One, The Plagued Capital, is about: after dying in Prague, Soap wakes up in the Dishonored universe and stumbles across the Loyalist Conspiracy, and he has to help them realize their goals. In return, they promise to help him find a way home.

Obviously, since this is a multiparter, I'm going to say it outright: Soap doesn't get to go home. How he comes to that conclusion and how he feels about it, I won't spoil; I'll let it come out in my writing once I start releasing chapters again.

Parts Two and Three (with the working titles Interim and The Tyvia Expedition, respectively) are going to focus on what happens after the Plague Crisis and the Loyalist Conspiracy. In Interim, Soap adjusts to a new life and role within the Dishonored universe and continues to build his relationships with the Dishonored characters (as well as starting to leave his mark on the world). In The Tyvia Expedition, well, Soap gets to adventure around in Tyvia with Sokolov, Cecelia, and a few other characters!

Originally, The Tyvia Expedition was going to be a one-off that served as fun little side piece, but ultimately not important to the CoH timeline. My partner and beta Sol and I have expanded it a lot, though, and now enough important stuff happens that it's an official part of the Call of Honor saga.

Also, in The Tyvia Expedition, we get to meet a new OC of mine, Vesna! I've introduced her on my art blog, but as a quick summary: Vesna is Makarov's daughter, born in 2004 from an unplanned pregnancy and raised by Makarov and (before Makarov ousted him) Yuri. She dies a few days before Makarov does, and appears in the Dishonored universe. She and Makarov are reunited after the events of The Plagued Capital, and the readers—and Soap—will meet her for the first time toward the beginning of The Tyvia Expedition.

Interim and The Tyvia Expedition are going to deal with some heavy topics, but compared to the other parts, they're the lighter entries in the series, and The Tyvia Expedition builds up to the fourth part, The Shadow of Tyvia.

The Shadow of Tyvia takes place a few years after the events of Call of Honor. Canonically in the Dishonored universe, Tyvia has a USSR-esque government; I said fuck that and, for the purposes of CoH, made Tyvia more similar to Imperial Russia, though it's ruled by four Princes. Unfortunately for these Princes, Makarov is up to some fuckshit, and Soap has to try and stop him from fucking over the world again.

The fifth and final part of the Call of Honor saga isn't titled yet. It takes place in 1852, during the events of Dishonored 2—though instead of Delilah, Vesna returns as the big bad of this story. Emily is usurped from her throne and both Corvo and Soap are kidnapped, and Emily has to rescue them, find out what Vesna's goals are, and stop her from realizing them.

The fifth part of Call of Honor is going to be the darkest out of all of them, but it will have a...happy ending? Maybe bittersweet would be a more fitting term for it. And it will for sure be the last entry in the saga, concluding the Kaldwin-Attano-MacTavish arcs. I've got the epilogue planned out and everything. That won't be the absolute end of Call of Honor as a project, though, because I've got two spinoff fics planned, and Sol is working on a companion trilogy!

The first spinoff is going to be a trilogy with the overarching working title, The Way of Death. It's going to be from Makarov's perspective and following his experiences and actions from the end of The Plagued Capital to the events of the last part of Call of Honor. There's a lot of stuff that he's going to be doing that the readers won't be able to see during the main Call of Honor series, so this spinoff is a way for me to be able to explore and write about these events!

The second spinoff fic is an AU of an AU with the working title Operation Coffee Bean—so obviously, it's going to be a coffee shop AU. It takes place about 200 years after the events of CoH, where all the characters are reincarnated (without memories of their past lives). It's going to be 100% tooth rotting "everyone lives and is happy" fluff, not at all canon to the CoH timeline but still fun. I'm planning on writing it mainly as a way to take a break from the main Call of Honor fic, because there are definitely going to be points where it gets really dark and I'll need the mood boost ;u;

Finally, Sol's companion trilogy, Call of Absolution, will follow Yuri from the events of The Plagued Capital to The Tyvia Expedition (though I'm not sure if Sol plans on writing more parts to go along with the rest of CoH). They won't be updating it for a while, since they're waiting for me to finish CoH, but here is where you can read the first two chapters of the first part if you're interested! (Please keep in mind these chapters may be edited in the future.)

That was a...very broad overview of what I'm planning, so if there's anything more specific you'd like to hear about, I'm more than happy to talk about it!

Thank you to anyone who read this far XD

[2ndturtlederpoutta4]

So..uh.. I made an au days before the final season comes out... Yeah.. it.. was a spur of the moment thing... more under cut it gets long...

Anyways! I have no idea if some one made an AU like this already but I continue to plow ahead! If the name isn't taken I think I'd like to call this the Defect AU.. cuz, well, you'll see.

So essentially Catra has had a enough a wee bit sooner than the show. Like four to five years or so... But instead of staying with the horde so she can be more powerful, ergo protected against stupid bitches other people, she runs off. Because at this moment the best thing to be is to be as far away from Shadowbitch that Catra can get. And why would she do that?

Well I'm basing this off a hypothetical situation. Let's say in canon Adora was there for the majority of the abuses, directing them away, not stopping them, but making them less.. painful. And of course there are instances where Catra is caught alone, and she has to deal with the brunt of these abuses. But Adora is there as a somewhat constant comfort, even if she is unaware of that fact. Now in this universe same idea applies. Except.. less so...

Adora is still an oblivious comfort, but she is around less. In this universe there is a young leaders project started up by Shadowbitch which is meant to weed out the more potential leaders and shape them up. It doesn't mean much, just more regulated training and classes about how to lead and such. And unfortunately Adora became part of that. She is around less, unable to help Catra when she gets in trouble. So and Catra is like 'this is fine, it's fine. As long as Adora is by my side in the end, I'll be fine.'

Until it isn't.

One day Catra is getting the shit kicked out of her. Nothing new she can take it. Shadowbitch is bitching at her, nothing new there either. Catra is daydreaming about how fantastic it would be to claw out the bitches eyes when Shadowbitch brings up Adora. She begins to talk about how dead she'll be when Adora is gone and how useless she is without her handler. And Catra is, 'what are you talking about?'

Shadowbitch goes off in her manipulative bitchy way and tells Catra how these extra practices are prepping Adora to join the high ranks, a place Catra won't be able to reach because she is nothing better than a lap dog. And that hits. Home run on spiral thoughts. Touch down on abandonment issues. 

Adora is going to leave her? No, no not- but it makes sense. Adora hasn't been able to spend a lot of time with her. She is in the leadership for kids thing. Shadowbitch is well, a bitch, but she is honest when it comes to Adora. Not to Adora, but about Adora. 'Adora, what we are doing is for the good of the world' lie. 'Adora you are so talented and gifted. You will do great things for hordak.' truth.

And though Shadowbitch is wrapping all this with insults and threats, Catra can see the truth in it. Because Adora can become a leader. And if Shadowbitch wanted it, she would leave Catra behind(not really but that is what Catra believed).

So Catra makes a decision, and decides she would have better luck outside the horde. She runs off, because there is nothing here for her anymore. Once upon a time she had a sliver of hope of that she could become big enough, strong enough, high enough rank wise that she could be out of Shadowbitchs reach. But Shadowbitch squashed that dream into smithereens, leaving Catra with a harsh possible reality that she would never be anything more than a foot soldier set up to die in the front lines. 

Adora, her one savior, her one anchor, is going to leave her. So why not leave before someone else gets a chance to hurt her to? Its not like Adora needed her anyways.

And thus Catra beginning her journey outside of horde. She tries her best to avoid the forest, because she does not need a princess army on her tail. She stays to the edge and just altogether avoids both parties and anyone of the in-between. But things usually don’t work out like that for Catra.

She gets caught up in a few things and is like this weird legend on the battlefield. Soldiers reports are like 'we were cornered and for sure gonna die when this fuckin blur came out of nowhere and just took out a whole squad. It was this demon thing that let out a howl of rage as it bit off the heads of these horde people. Definitely a mad spirit or something or another.' because she would so be against the horde just trying to fuck up Shadowbitch a bit. Like she won't join the rebellion side, but she definitely would take out a squad or two in spite of Shadowbitch. Which of course may lead her to a few misadventures with some young rebels, making some friends with a few maybe.

I don't see her finding the crimson waste till later, maybe after a year or two of being out on her own? She hears a small tiny rumor about there being people there but it was mostly a fable set up by some villagers. So she thinks. At one point when she is getting chased by some horde soliders because she managed to piss enough off, she finds herself heading to the crimson waste and is just like fuck it let's do this. She finds it and. She is in heaven.

Unlike canon she doesn't go for top power because Huntress is still in power at that point, and well she isn't really looking for anything other than a safe spot away from both the horde and the rebellion.

She stays for a bit, occasionally heading out back to the main action if she really feels like fucking around, maybe visiting some rebel/neutral friends, but her main base is at the Crimson waste. 

Anyways Adora finishes growing up with out her best friend and actually gets a bit distrusting of Shadowbitch because of Catras sudden disappearance. Why would Catra want to leave? Outside the horde there were princesses and dangers beyond compare and Catra is protected and safe here. She would have absolutely no reason to leave, the horde is her home. But Adora stays faithful. Until on the day before she goes to force captain orientation. Adora finds a file casing and at first she is like, I should return this, but then she sees a picture of Catra. It was a picture from around a year ago, a stray footage of her when she got caught between a horde and rebel battle. And Adora is just like what the fuck oh no I got to check this out. So she does the responsible thing and takes out the skiff out to inspect a battle sight that happened over a year ago. Yeah bear with me I will fix the plot later.

But in a turn of events she finds the sword yionks it and thus the start of the series. She distrust the rebels but sticks with them because, one she wants to figure out why the sword talked to her, two they might have an idea of where Catra might be at. And later because she figured out that she was on the wrong side of the battle.

that is all I got for now, I want to make more doodles and maybe comics and fics later, but feel free to ask any questions!