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shardechance · 19 days ago

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post mortem #3 rating: t (for swearing) wc: 2.5k warnings: none for this snippet, however please be aware that the main work does have a non-con warning.

Seeing as no one in this partnership knows how to be normal, here's a deleted scene from JAWBREAKER between Feyre and the Hughes Twins.

Oscar flicks on the hall light on the way up, a sticky red smear left in his wake—another thing to clear up later. When they clear the doorway, stepping into the dark of the attic, their new bedroom stands on full display: one wardrobe, two dressers, a toy box that’s seen better days, an armchair, a bookshelf only half full, and a bunk bed. They’d begged for one at the old place. Seems they got their wish.

Oscar reaches for the lights but Ferye stops him. “No, it has to be dark.”

“But I can’t find my PJs!” Finn whines, flopping down on the bottom bunk. They’ll be under his pillow, where his mom always leaves them, but kids are kids and the tiredness is setting in, irritation along with it. Oscar, having had a little less sugar and a little more patience, reaches beneath his brother's head and pulls out the missing garments, flops them onto his face, and scrambles for his own before Finn can retaliate.

“You two go wash up and then we’ll play,” she says, dropping into the plush velvet armchair beneath the skylight. Oscar is already through the door, footfalls loud and quick on the stairs as he rushes to the washroom on the floor below. They creak with every step. Finn whines as he lifts himself from his bed, sluggish feet carrying him to the door. “And brush your teeth. I’ll know if you haven’t, stinky!”

He grumbles something to himself but he’s too far gone for her to make out the words.

The armchair is twice as comfortable as the couch downstairs, a million times more comfortable than the mismatched furniture back home. She leans back into it, legs propped up over one of the arms. It’s better than anything they ever had as kids. One giant bed and three gangly sisters sharing the one duvet, kicking each other, huddled closer on winter nights when the heat gave out. Getting her own space, her own bed, had been the peak of her pre-teen years.

She lets her head rest on the back of the chair, looking to the skylight above.

It would be a pretty nice view of the sky and stars if it wasn’t for the wayward branch of a neighboring oak obscuring it. Never having a tenant stay longer than a year, being on the housing market longer still, would do that to a place. Moonlight still made it to the attic though, filtered through the sparse leaves.

Her phone vibrates, probably Lucien trying to goad her into ditching again, or sharing the latest gossip in the group chat she hadn’t left yet. Not that Tamlin ever checked it. On Lucien’s last update, he was somewhere in Cambodia or Croatia or somewhere else beginning with a C, still trying to ‘find himself.’ Not like he needed to go that far to do it. Just look in the trash bin and there’s a dozen just like him.

Part of her—a smug, satisfied part—thinks he left because of what happened between them. Considering the only person he even spoke to anymore was Lucien and even that was via postcard, the evidence stacks up pretty well in her favor.

Good. Fuck him.

She pulls her phone out but doesn’t check the notification. Doesn’t have a chance to. The telltale whine of old pipes that she’s too familiar with cuts out, and the pitter-patter of bare feet taking the old stairs way too fast sounds after it. She turns on her phone’s flashlight.

“Will you tell us the game now?” Oscar asks, arms full of costume pieces he’ll likely have grown out of by next Halloween.

Finn does the same, barreling past to jump onto his bed. A breathless “Please!” as he lands in the bed face down. His twin sits beside him, legs folded criss-cross on the comforter.

Feyre takes a second to draw them closer, flipping her phone upside down so the flashlight shines upwards. By the looks on their faces—equal parts enraptured and terrified—it’s clear she has them right where she wants them.

“Boys.” Wind surges outside, rattling bare branches against the rooftop. It’s not quite lightning, but it’ll do. “We’re going to talk to spirits.”

Oscar’s awe turns to straight up fear. “Spirits? Like… ghosts?”

“Hey! Ghosts can’t get you if you’re in bed,” Finn chimes in. “Everybody knows that. Mom said so.”

They bicker back and forth about the logistics of whether it has to be your bed specifically or if just any bed will do. Finn concludes that the best place to be during a ghost attack would be a mattress store. Oscar counters with but how are there so many haunted hotels? which only serves to lead them down a different path of how does he know that and who has been sneaking off to watch Most Haunted reruns even though Mom said they shouldn’t. Feyre lets them argue, for the most part, only jumping in when it seems things might come to blows.

“Did I say anything about ghosts?” she says.

Finn shakes his head, but Oscar—oh, poor baby.

“Anyway,” Feyre continues, “I put some salt on your window when you were getting cleaned up. Totally ghost-proof, I promise.” A lie, obviously, but she’d seen it in a TV show somewhere and, by the way Oscar’s shoulders retreat from beside his ears, it convinces him well enough. “Do you want to play or not?”

“We want to play! Right, Ozzie?”

“Right.” Although, Oscar seems marginally less convinced.

“If you say so,” Feyre shrugs. She hands her phone to Oscar who, in typical kid fashion, twists it so the light shines under his chin, but jumps at the glare. She grabs his wrist, gently turning until the light faces down at his blue green comforter instead. “It’s super important that you hold this still. That keeps us connected to the spirits.”

A purple velvet bag, in all its faded filigree beauty, sits between them.

It’s been too long since she’d last done a reading, usually only reaching for them on the off chance she remembered, or if she’d had a particularly bad day. She doesn’t believe in all the witch stuff like Elain used to, the full moons and incense and tea blends made from garden herbs. No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just… nice to think that there’s a connection to something bigger out there, even if sometimes it takes a pile of old paper for her to realize it.

Her skin prickles as she touches the velvet, pulling the worn cards from their home.

“These—” she starts, spreading the deck between her fingers so the boys can see the pictures. Bright and bold and dark and faded all at once. “—are Tarot cards.”

“Tarot cards?” Oscar wavers with her phone, light dipping but Finn steadies his brother’s hand before she can chastise him for it.

She nods. “That’s right, and they’re going to help us ask the spirits a question. The cards are a conduit–uh…a tool, I guess? You ask a question in your head, focus on it really hard and pick the card that calls to you. I have to shuffle them first though, mix them all up.”

“They speak?” Finn asks, as she does her best to shuffle the deck. He’s sat so close to Oscar now, knees touching in the dark like that extra point of contact can offer comfort in a way words cannot. Even like this, they’re inseparable.

“Not with words. You’ll feel it in your heart, or your head, maybe your toes. It’s different for different people.” Feyre keeps her words calm, soothing. It’s not meant to be a spooky exercise. It’s not. God, if they wake up in the middle of the night with bad dreams—no, she keeps it cool, smiling a little as she spreads the cards face down atop the bedspread. An arc before all three of them. “To me, it feels warm. Like the sun.”

Oscar lets the phone droop a second time, and when Feyre looks up to him, his eyes are a little wet. “I don’t think I want to play this game.”

“Ozzie, please!” Finn pleads, taking his twin's free hand between his own.

Feyre takes a second, watching as Finn soothes his brother’s hand. It's the type of thing Nesta used to do for Elain, when storms blew out the breakers and left them in the dark, their father nowhere to be seen. Maybe once she yearned for that kind of connection with someone. It had never been there in her sisters—not that she blamed them, anymore—but she found it in her friends. She found it in her part time jobs. She made it her mission to be that person when she could. Her hand dwarfs both boys’ clenched palms. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise. Do you want me to get the lights?”

Oscar, looking at his brother then back to the faded gilding of the cards, shakes his head.

“You sure?” she asks.

He nods once.

“Since you’re being so brave, do you want to take the first card?” Feyre offers.

It’s with a trembling hand that Oscar reaches for the cards, letting his fingers slip free of his brother’s grip. He hovers a palm above them, moving left and right across the deck, pausing in certain spots like he’s considering taking one, but never staying in a place for too long. Like weaving between invisible strands of magic, sensing the cards and their meanings.

“I want this one,” he says, pulling a card from the dead center of the arc. What remains of the gold around the card’s edges catches in the flashlight. Feyre doesn’t even realize she’s holding her breath until Oscar flips his card over, revealing an upside down King of Swords.

Finn almost knocks his twin over trying to see the design on the front. A king alone, sat atop a throne, holding a giant sword. Well, it wouldn’t be her first choice, but it’s not a bad card. “Feyre, what does it mean?”

“Oh, you would get the King.” She smiles a little. “That’s very you, Oscar.”

Oscar, eyes still a little wide in panic, seems to relax a little at that. “Why is he upside down? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. He means something different if he’s upside down is all!” Feyre places it in the space between them, separate from the face down cards, trying to rack her brain for a way to phrase its meaning. Manipulation is such a harsh word. Inner truth, perhaps? Hidden strength? “What do you feel when you look at him?”

“He looks… cool.”

“Yeah, but how does he make you feel?”

“Like… Like I want to play again! Can I have another turn?”

Finn, eternally impatient, balks at that. He doesn’t have the same restraint his twin has. He leans over Oscar, swiping the first card his fingers touch, swishing it into the air before Feyre can remind them to be gentle. He doesn’t even let her see what he pulled, squinting at it for a second, before he pouts and lays it face up next to the other card.

“At least yours was someone cool! Mine’s just some building.”

The Tower. Oh fuck.

“Some building?” Ferye starts, nudging so the cards are aligned. She hadn’t been expecting to see the Tower, not really, but hey! These things happen. Chaos? Pride? That’s kinda Finn’s thing so it makes sense. He commands that kind of energy. “That’s the tower! One of the most powerful cards in the Deck.”

“Really?” Finn’s eyes light up at that, looking again at the card between them. “I guess the lightning storm is kinda cool.”

“I’ll bet.” She nods. “I’ll ask you the same question, Finn. What do you feel? What does it remind you of?”

“I don’t know. It’s like when dad used to let us smash sand castles after a beach day. What does it mean?”

Feyre hushes him and, thankfully, he sits back in his place, enraptured as she takes the time drawing her fingertips over the facedown cards. “We haven’t got the full story yet. It’s my turn.”

There isn’t a specific question in her mind; nebulous thoughts of school and work and home and the two boys only minutes away from sleep, parties she hasn’t been to, assignments she hasn’t done—phantom warmth pricks her index finger. Despite her belief in the metaphysical being skeptic at best, she puts trust in that little spike of warmth, pulling out the final card.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“The Devil?” Oscar shrieks, leaning closer whilst simultaneously cringing back. “I thought you said this game wasn’t scary!”

Finn leans into his brother, trying his best to see the goat-headed figure on her card. “That’s awesome! That’s gotta be the coolest one yet! Why is he furry?”

“Hey, the Devil isn’t as bad as everyone thinks!” How do you even begin to explain the intricacies of obsession, passion and sexuality to kids? That’s way above her pay grade. Not a chance. “He gets a bad rap. Not all bad things are really bad, you know? Like… chores! You hate doing them at the time but once they’re done everything feels better, right?”

Oscar fixes her with a look, dark hair flopping in front of his eyes. “Feyre, it’s the Devil.”

“To me, this means I have an assignment due tomorrow and I need to knuckle down.” Not a lie, but not a full truth either. She does have an assignment—one she hasn’t even started yet—but seeing The Devil tugs on a different part of herself that's probably best kept under wraps. She likes this job. It would be a shame if she scared the kids too much and never got invited back. “It means I need to focus on a few things.”

“That’s kinda… boring.” Finn says, fighting off a yawn. “Can we talk to the spirits now?”

“We just did, dummy.”

Oscar, seeing his brother fight the clutch of sleep, fails in his own battle. “That was it? What did they say?”

“They say it’s bedtime. Now.” Feyre collects the unused cards, slotting in the three they chose throughout the deck. Only once they’re all safely in their little velvet pouch does she raise from the bed, letting Finn crawl beneath the comforter. Oscar follows suit, the allure of sleep near irresistible. She lets them get comfortable, standing by the skylight, looking up at the branch blocking most of the view.

“Do you like it?” Finn asks, sounding so much smaller, already halfway to sleep. “Dad says he’s gonna build us a treehouse next summer. We’re gonna have sleepovers and everything.”

Feyre starts towards the door, slowly waiting for creaks of the old floor to announce her slow departure. “For real? Am I invited?”

Finn shakes his head, or snuggles down further into his comforter. Oscar peeks over the edge of the top bunk, eyes half shut already. “No girls allowed.”

“Figures.” She reaches the door, pulling it just enough to slip through. One last look over her shoulder confirms what she already guessed. “Night, boys.”

She doesn’t get a response.

#jawbreaker #shardechance freak week #freak week post mortem

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authoralexharvey · 6 months ago

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INTERVIEW WITH A WRITEBLR — @magic-is-something-we-create

Who You Are:

P.K. Finn || He/they

I'm a queer, neurodivergent creative that's been elbow-deep in art of all kinds since I first started having control of my hands!

What You Write:

What genres do you write in? What age ranges do you write for?

Adventure, Fantasy, Horror, Mystery, Sci-Fi. New Adult and Adult

What genre would you write in for the rest of your life, if you could? What about that genre appeals to you?

I could write the blurred line between Sci-Fi and Fantasy until the heat death of the universe, honestly! The absolute freedom to change reality and stretch the boundaries of what my mind can come up with when making new worlds is one of the most fun and interesting things I've ever done, and once I started on the path of world building, I realized I couldn't stop. Even just world building, without a story attached, is one of my favorite pastimes.

What genre/s will you not write unless you HAVE to? What about that genre turns you off?

I personally don't enjoy writing anything set in the real world - whether historical or contemporary - if it doesn't have at least a bit of magic or speculative science attached. While I like reading realistic fiction on occasion, I've always found myself drawn more to what could be than what is on the creation side of things.

Who is your target audience? Do you think anyone outside of that would get anything out of your works?

It depends on the story! My blanket target audience is the same kind of reader I am: those who like to pick apart stories and draw plot threads and foreshadowing to their potential conclusions as they unfold, and can't help but analyze it every step of the way. Rereading to find all of the places where hints were laid, to see what about the story changes once you know the end - are there lines I glossed over the first time that, with the new context, have taken a whole new meaning or emotional toll? How often was a reveal teased or cloaked in metaphor before I was given the information I needed to actually see it? Where is the plot mirrored in little ways, where are we told blatantly what will happen in a way we don't notice at first? Those kinds of readers are who I write for, as a whole. But I also know that those won't be all of my readers, and that each story will attract a different group that needs it, so I try to tailor those accordingly if I can.

What kind of themes do you tend to focus on? What kinds of tropes? What about them appeals to you?

One thing I've found to be a recurring theme in everything I create (not just novels and other stories; it's leaked into the D&D campaign I'm running for friends, too) is the idea of Godhood/Idolization/Ultimate Power and Responsibility being unfathomably isolating and traumatic. With that also comes the idea that even deities are still people, capable of just as much emotion, mistaken belief, and regret as the rest of us, and often with far less control and power than worshipers might think. Hand-in-hand with that, I tend to end up with narratives where the antagonist(s) are a mirror or exaggeration of the protagonist(s), because I love making my protags question whether they're the ones in the right, when they may agree on many or all points of the antags opinions, just not on their methods or the lengths to which they'll go. And I also love to make the protags understand and sympathize with their antags - and by extension, try and get the reader to do the same - because one of my favorite things to explore is the common root of all good AND evil being one and the same, and those concepts at all being subjective and fluctuating.

What themes or tropes can you not stand? What about them turn you off?

I've never understood stories that place certain characters/concepts/actions on pedestals or trash heaps without ever stopping to explore anything beyond the shallowest why, if that. I want to question which side is in the wrong, or whether wrong and right exist at all in this story. I want the characters and/or the story itself to examine what they're doing, why, and what the lasting consequences will be - because there will be lasting consequences for everything they do. If the enemy army is shown as irredeemable and inhuman (derogatory), show me a deserter with friends still on the front lines. If the Good King goes unquestioned in his altruism by those around him, show me what machinations he hides behind locked doors to silence the dissenters.

What are you currently working on? How long have you been working on it?

I'm currently drafting two different stories set in the same world: The Millennium Saga is a high fantasy epic that's going to be between 5 and 7 books long, and I'm in the midst of drafting book three; Whispers is a tragic dark fantasy noir set 10-12 years after the start of TMS, planned to be a standalone that doesn't need, but is enriched by, the world context that TMS brings. I've been drafting it since mid-December 2022 as a bit of a break from TMS, which has gone through 10+ years of plot marinating and 2 years of frantic drafting now that my ADHD brain finally has the tools to sit down and do it.

Why do you write? What keeps you writing?

I write so that I can get the stories that play on loop in my brain out and inflicted on others. :)

How long have you been writing? What do you think first drew you to it?

The first thing I remember writing for fun was a short story about dragons that I wrote in third grade for school. I fell in love with the idea of being able to write my own books not too long after, because I realized that it let me decide what a dragon could and could not be, what an elf looked like and what powers they wielded, and what I thought a Loch Ness Monster Animorph would be based solely on the covers of books I never read.

Where do you get your inspiration from? Is that how you got your inspiration for your current project? If not, where did the inspiration come from?

My inspiration comes mostly from interacting with other peoples creations! I often get into an art or writing mood after watching drawing videos on YouTube or listening to the playlist I've Pavloved myself with, and often those initial sparks inspire what I do with them that day, whether it's practicing drawing architecture because of a speedpaint or writing a fight scene because I listened to a particularly energetic song. I don't usually get inspired for entire stories from those things, though; I couldn't tell you where the inspiration for my current works came from, because the ideas first came to me years and years ago, and have just morphed over time as I've grown.

What work of yours are you most proud of? Why?

The Millennium Saga! That story in particular has been occupying my brain for more than a decade, and while the current form of it is unrecognizable from the original version I wrote on the bus on the way to school, it is by far one of my favorite things I've ever done, if only for the amount of time and brainspace I've dedicated to it. It's how I figured out my current writing style, and it's a story I know I'll hold close to my heart long after it's done. And this isn't to say I'm not proud of my other projects, especially Whispers! They all hold equal weight in my mind, I've simply had more time to put the puzzle of TMS together than anything else, and I'm most proud of pushing through the blocks I hit along the way.

Have you published anything? Do you want to?

I have not, but I really want to! I started looking into the tradpub querying process in December with publishing TMS in mind, but since I put it on hold for Whispers for the moment, I've put that by the wayside as well. Ideally, I'll go the traditional route with maybe a webcomic and webnovel somewhere between official releases, but I'd be more than willing to figure out how marketing works for self publishing if that doesn't pan out.

What part of the publishing process most appeals to you? What part least appeals to you?

Traditional publishing is appealing for me because I (theoretically; I know the industry is in a bit of a hellscape right now) wouldn't have to be in charge of anything more than writing the books. But, like I said, that's in a bit of a weird limbo state right now, especially in regard to authors self-marketing, and that is, I think, the most intimidating and unsavory part of the process for me. Self publishing appeals because I would have a bit more control over what the book looked like overall, but again, marketing is not my strong suit. I'd much rather just be able to sit back and write and let someone else do the talking for me.

What part of the writing process most appeals to you? What part is least appealing?

My favorite part of the writing process is those moments where things start to fit together into a complete picture! I tend to avoid outlining ahead of time because it dampens my enthusiasm and always tricks my brain into thinking its a set of hard-and-fast rules rather than gentle guidelines, so when the threads I've laid out start to weave themselves into a tapestry through both editing and latter-half drafting, it makes every stumble before then worth it. The least appealing/fun part of the process is less about the actual writing for me, and more about the struggles getting past the blocks imposed by my brain chemistry. Executive dysfunction makes sitting down to write at all a chore, no matter how much I love it once I've gotten into the zone.

Do you have a writing process? Do you have an ideal setup? Do you write in pure chaos? Talk about your process a bit.

My process depends on the story! For Millennium Saga in particular, I've found I have to "script" chapters before I draft them, with a special emphasis on the dialogue and vague choreography, or else I get stuck super easy on the transition sentences between beats. But with Whispers, I've scripted only one or two conversations over the entire 40k words written so far, and haven't gotten stuck once. As for setup, mine is pretty particular in some ways, and wildly varied in others. I write in FocusWriter so that I don't get distracted with formatting, and can have a background/theme that's easy on the eyes and fitting for the scene I'm working on - but that theme changes on a regular basis, along with the music I play in the background and, often, where I take my laptop to write in the first place. I'm also a fan of doing writing sprints to get my brain moving, sometimes with friends on Discord, sometimes on my own, and at this point I do more writing without sprints at all. Sometimes I need the clutter of my desk to kickstart my brain; sometimes I need to be curled up in an armchair with no other distractions in order to focus. It really depends on the day.

Your Thoughts on Writeblr:

How long have you been a writeblr? What inspired you to join the community?

I joined Writeblr officially in March of 2020! While COVID might seem like the obvious culprit, it really wasn't at the time; it was really because I'd graduated the year before, and while my friends went off to college, I decided to double down on my dream of writing and drawing for a living, and realized that I wanted to have more people to share my ideas and stories with in the interim to help motivate myself to work on them. From there, it was just a matter of making the side blog, and the rest is history!

Shout out some of your favorite writeblrs. How did you find them and what made you want to follow them?

@/aritany was one of a bunch of others who joined writeblr around the same time as I did, and one of the first whose writing style really spoke to me and inspired a bit of my own! That, combined with their rather unique ability to get me invested in contemporary and semi-realistic fiction drew me in and kept me on board throughout the whirlwind we've both been through over the last few years. @writeblrfantasy is an absolutely delightful human being who I met one fateful world-building wednesday when she unlocked my rambling by asking about Goblins in the Ehlverse and received a full-blown illustration reference in answer. She's also one of a limited few who writes the kind of romance that gets me invested, and she has an absolutely godly drive to write an ungodly amount day in and day out that inspires me to no end! <3 @lanawritesalittle is someone I don't remember meeting, but whose stories and style I adore to no end. They're, like, top-of-my-list of those who haven't published yet, but who I will be frothing at the mouth for a copy when they do. They have a 100% hit rate of making incredibly compelling characters that I can't help but love no matter what atrocities they get up to. @ashen-crest first crossed my dash when she joined, and I remember reading one (1) excerpt of The Stray Spirit before falling absolutely head-over-heels in love with her style of cozy fantasy. Everything she does just feels so warm and full of love, it's like home, and it all only gets better with time. @zonnemaagd caught my eye first from her poetry blog, and then from her writeblr, and her descriptions and narrative voice are so incredibly unique and gorgeous that I literally cannot think of a single published author that compares. Gust, in particular, is a writeblr wip that will always live in my head rent-free, and someday I hope to be able to read it all and bask in the world the way it deserves. And, of course, @authoralexharvey (don't you dare think you can get out of being complimented in your own interview). Their worlds are so lovingly built and their voice is so compelling, and I don't think I'll ever be able to get Nadia and Simone of ASMLP out of my brain. Their stories are just so amazing all the way through, even at the drafting stage, and I love every single one that I've gotten to sink my teeth into.

What is your favorite part about writeblr?

The connection and sense of community! At least from the angle I've seen it, it's a truly wonderful space of encouragement and inspiration that I wouldn't let go of for the world.

What do you think writeblr could improve on? How do you think we can go about doing so?

I think one thing that a lot of us agree on is how it can sometimes feel like we're pouring our writing hearts out into the void without a response, so one of the things I've been trying to improve myself (and that I think a lot of us would benefit from practicing), is voicing the things we love about what we read on here where others can see it, unabashedly. Finding something to love in even the smallest excerpts from last line tags, whether it be a particular word choice or a mood that seeps through the page, and pointing it out in the tags or body of a reblog. And, when someone does that for us, thanking them without self-deprecation - because the more we foster that kind energy and enthusiasm for each other, the more we're able to remember that when there's something lovable in every piece of writing, our own writing is included in that, too.

How do you contribute to the writeblr community? Do you think you could be doing more?

I do my best to reblog and comment in the tags on everything that I read - and while that tends to mostly be things I'm on the taglist on, I also try to take advantage of the days where I have the spoons to read more of what I scroll through and add it to the queue no matter who it's from. Something I could absolutely do more of is consistent participation in ask and tag games; I know the kind of fire that gets lit when I get a particularly interesting WBW ask or when someone sends me a tag game that I'm excited to play, and I really want to pass that on more often.

What kinds of posts do you most like to interact with?

Excerpts, intros, and updates!

What kind of posts do you most like to make?

Excerpts and updates!

Finally, anywhere else online we may be able to find you?

I do writing and art streams on twitch.tv/alittlewarlord (ALEX: Watch and interact with Pax, he's so lovely!!), and VODs are posted on my YouTube channel of the same name. I'm also on Ko-Fi as alittlewarlord, and Patreon as P. K. Finn, both of which feature a bonus weekly write-in on top of the other streams.

#writeblr event #writeblr celebration #iwaw #writing community #writeblr

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