#wip intro: metamorphosis

[zephyrchama]

Vampire mc. Like it could be an add on of angst if like they failed to protect mc when mc got attacked by a vampire, got turned into one. Like they can make a cute but vamp!mc is thirsty now- 🧛anon

(I started typing one for each brother but they winded up a little longer than intended. >u< I'm gonna break this up into 7+ parts, one for each character! Gonna use this post as the intro and master list for it, so each time a new installment is posted I'll update this here. Part I will be posted in just a minute!) Intro:

Nobody was at fault.

The Devildom is filled with horrors. Dangers lurk within every shadow, eyeing you as easy prey and waiting for the right time to strike. It was honestly a miracle you hadn't been attacked sooner.

Despite that, everybody naturally blamed themselves. You shouldn't have been alone, they should have been by your side, why did they let you out of their sight? They had been naive.

You were locked up for a month in the Demon Lord's Castle, not that you remember much. The first two weeks were the worst. The room was bare, with a mattress and little else. The rare decorative wallpaper had been tattered with scrapes from your nails. You hardly recall anything more than flashes of confusing memories.

Diavolo restraining you with an anguished expression. Barbatos pinning you to the ground with a firm hand. Solomon chanting as you wailed and clawed at the floor by his feet, unable to cross the magical barrier that separated you from his tantalizing flesh.

You were not a pretty sight. It was for the best that those three would remain your only visitors during your stay at the castle. They wanted to look for a cure, but by the time they found you it had been too late. They knew this. They tried anyway.

Vampire metamorphosis is not a pleasant experience. By the third week you began to mellow out and regain conscious thought, but you were moody and irritable and oh so hungry. Your gums hurt. Everything felt hazy.

By week four you managed to stop yourself from gnawing on the mattress and it was decided that you were stable enough to return to the House of Lamentation.

Finally. You craved familiarity - your bedroom, your possessions, your best friends. But everything felt new, and you were a changed person. No longer the human exchange student.

Changes needed to be made, and it took a couple more days before you were permitted to leave the castle. With few words, you finally went back to your Devildom home.

Lucifer's Part here Mammon's Part here Leviathan's Part here (The rest are currently still WIPS and will be updated here when finished.)

[tlirswriting]

So, what *is* Colonized Mars?

Hi, hello, Colonized Mars is the working title of my current main wip. It's a sci-fi/horror short story, set in the future on a terraformed Mars -- except, there were already people there. The story focuses on what happens after about 200 years

It's about the intersecting forces of imperialist/capitalistic exploitation and ableism, it's about bodily autonomy and freedom of identity, it's about an alien getting freaky and transgender with a sentient surveillance camera

I think of it as a love letter to the genre as well as critique of sci-fi's frequently colonial overtones, especially the classic sci-fi I draw the most inspiration from, such as star trek. My personal flavor of horror leans towards the absurd, gothic, and psychological, but with a fair serving of creepy and wet Meat (think Kafka's metamorphosis, Shelley's frankenstein)

And I haven't finished writing it yet 👍 but I thought I'd make a sort of intro/explanation for those who are curious! I've already posted a short teaser, which you can read here on my blog

[amandawritesxo]

WIP Intro: The Spymaster

Genre: paranormal horror, possession, Kafka-esque dread

Status: In the Discovery drafting stage

Synopsis:  Sucked into the routine of a dead-end night-manager shift, Jonas yearns for the Good Ole Days, back when he and his two best friends used to break into abandoned buildings and do seances and EVP sessions. When he meets a beautiful young woman, she encourages him to get back into the Ghost Hunting gig to win her heart. Only his first date results in a two week time lapse of which he has no memories. Jonas, alongside his best friends, fight to uncover exactly what transpired during that fortnight. Can they find the mystery girl and seek justice for the horrors wrought on Jonas, or will the horrors he enacted outside of his conscious catch up to him first?

Setting: haunted houses, convenient stores at night, the glow under street lamps, dirty train stations, the comfort of a best friend having your back

Vibe: elder millennials, emo music, the waft of cigarette smoke, clean up on aisle 12, the pain of adult friendships, the stolen potential of lost dreams, curvy goth girls that appear and disappear in clouds of smoke, night-vision cameras

Touchstones & Inspiration: Project Fear, My Best Friend's Exorcism, Metamorphosis, Carmilla,

Characters:

Jonas - the grocery night manager who dreams of something more profound

Wayne - a sound engineer who is just worried about his best bud

Sammy - an exchange student turned physical therapist that would rather be anywhere but the seedier sides of town, but steps up for the emotional support

Unnamed Babe - the beautiful woman that lured a scrawny boy under her streetlamp and offered him a drag

Excerpt:

Jonas sighed, toes of his sneakered teetering over the precipice of the bread. Deep red liquid spilled between the cracks in scuffed linoleum. Shattered glass clinked beneath stiff broom bristles. More red splattered the cuffs of his khakis.

He dropped the CAUTION: WET FLOOR sign, and it wobbled on busted legs. 

“Think I found the culprit, boss,” Brenda chirped, bubbled snapping between lipstick-stained teeth. She pointed one long, pink fingernail toward a kid’s soccer ball wedged between 24-packs of soda.

Jonas rubbed at tired eyes and nodded. Summer inventory was often the culprit of store-wide disasters. Last summer, a woman “tried out” a kayak in the middle of aisle 12, resulting in a domino of technicolor cereal boxes that nearly “crushed her to death”.

“Thanks, Brenda. Mind putting that ball back in seasonal while Aidan and I get this mess cleaned up?” He gestured back to the puddle of Pinot Noir.

Aidan swept in vain, corralling broken bottles and labels while the red continued to spread and splatter. From the adjacent aisle, one could probably guess someone had been stabbed her and was slowly bleeding out.

Jonas wished it was him.

[you-are-my-neverland]

[id: a graphic with a series of three images: a girl with her eyes cast in shadow, a statue of a saint dripping gold, and two hands with light between them. the text overlaid reads ‘the metamorphosis of the lost�� / end id]

THE METAMORPHOSIS OF THE LOST → A ROUND UP

“Kevla is rotten to the core,” June continued. She was as close to impassioned as India thought she would ever visibly be, reminding India of the times June had opened up before, the anger burning like a bright, cold, distant star in her eyes. “You can’t fix Kevla. All you can do is remove some of the damage.”

after roughly fourteen months of writing, i am proud to announce that the first draft of the metamorphosis of the lost is officially done. at the start of the summer last year (2022), i had only 120k words, and the end seemed unreachable. now, i’ve wrapped up the first draft at a rounded up value of 310k. it’s crazy to think that i’ve actually reached this point. i started tracking my writing progress during my summer goal of 200k, and continued to do so during the fall semester, of which i only failed to write one day. in retrospect, all those days where i was too tired to write more than a few sentences, with word counts under 100, and the months where i struggled to hit my goal of 500 a day - all those days piled up to the completion i achieved right on time for 2023 to hit. 

will i definitely do more work on this novel? who knows. i can’t say for certain that i’ll ever go back to it, or that a second draft will occur. but i hope i will. i always planned for tmotl to have a companion piece, for this to be the first part of a duology. do i have nothing but a few scattered ideas tying the two together? yes. i do need to actually tackle the plot of that rumored companion novel soon.

“What did you ever do for me?” she asked bleakly. “I’m dead because of you. If you had cared at all, the Black Saint would have died long before I came back to find him still alive.” If he had been dead then, I might have come back to you, she didn’t say, because it was something that she would never be able to take back if she did.

i’ve posted a lot of (unpolished) excerpts on here before, so in honor of finishing the first draft, i figured i would let myself talk about the writing process and all the little things i haven’t shared yet! if you were ever interested in finding out more about this wip, or read the posts i’ve made and thought ‘idk what this is about but this is cool’ (as i never did post those character profiles or setting notes or anything informative beyond the wip intro...), read on.

(fair warning: it’s long.)

Kevla itself might be larger than life, but India didn’t believe in the city either. She just knew it existed, because she couldn’t ignore its presence in her life. 

Maybe Kevla was God.

we’ll start with the city itself. kevla, a city set somewhere on the coast, estranged from the rest of the world that it can’t really be imagined somewhere on a map. kevla is, at it’s heart, a gritty thing to behold: it is a city that is trying to kill you, and the only thing that will save you. 

there have been many times when i’ve looked at a wip and said, this wip is just going to be normal. there will be no magical realism in this wip.’ this was not the case for tmotl - when i was first visualizing the story, i knew that i wanted the city the vigilantes occupy to be alive in a very magical realism way. therefore, kevla is a sentient being, though it is never explicitly called that. it is only understood by the characters throughout the story, by anele and india and vin and june. it is talked about as something that acts on its own. in this, kevla becomes both the setting and a character. 

kevla itself is neatly divided into districts. i live in the suburbs, and have not lived in any big metropolises, but i have visited nyc, and d.c.  is kevla not exactly designed as a realistic city would be? yes. but i think it fits into the rest of the novel - kevla has to be small for logistical reasons, but it also has to be larger than life. it has to be a peninsula, with a raging coastline, and it has to have a living forest cutting it off from everything else. the people who live in kevla understand the uncanny nature of their city, but it is not unusual to them - it’s just the place they live.

He didn’t say anything. India drew in a shuddering breath and felt his chest expand slightly, in the barest way, ribs rigid through his costume. She could draw a knife right now, stab him fatally, slide it into the spot between the ribs, drive it in through his skin and break through his back. If not that, then a bullet at close range. The possibilities were endless. At this point, she could see the seams in his body armor. Everything and anything could be destroyed at this close.

india, india, india. tmotl definitely doesn’t have a single main character - june and india both share that title, and many other characters have a substantial amount of povs - but tmotl is also very much india’s story, because she’s the girl i wanted to write about first. an angry girl. an outcast. someone who is overflowing with all the wrong emotions. someone who bares her rage on her teeth.

india as indigo is directionless. she’s stuck in place, and she doesn’t know where she’s going. it’s only after she’s killed by the black saint and returns as the red saint that she finally has a purpose - to kill the black saint, and to prove the world (the vigilantes) wrong. to show them. where she had just been following other people’s paths, and rules, now she forges her own. still, even, she’s torn in her heart - does she really want burned bridges? does she want death? apologies? for all that india claims, she doesn’t really know, herself, but it takes her a long time before she can admit that to herself.

india is, at her core, unpredictable. she’s a series of contradictions, which is intended. no matter how much drive you have, it doesn’t amount to anything if you don’t know where you’re going, or why you’re going at all. she’s a treasure trove of trust issues, impulses, and sharp edged defenses. she doesn’t trust anyone, because she was abandoned from birth - there was never anyone in her corner until she met anele and vin. even then, even with a found family, she put up the walls; she wants to be understand, while believing so strongly in the fundamental divide between them all - that they will never understand what it’s like to be her.

india is a mouthpiece for something that often echoed throughout my thoughts, especially when first brainstorming for tmotl. who gets to decide who the good guys are in vigilantism? are you the good guys, india asks, because you didn’t let your trauma affect you? because you dealt with it ‘neatly?’ am i the bad guy for not being able to?

“I didn’t die easily,” June said ferociously. “None of us died easily. People like you didn’t let us die easily. Our death, to you, was nothing but a chance, but for us it was hell, over and over again. Why do you expect compassion from me when you never had any for any of us? You didn’t change anything. You didn’t save anyone. You took a legacy and let it live on.”

She swallowed back her anger and lividity, fingers curling around the knife handle.

“Complacency is a crime.”

june, our other leading lady. summer 2021, when i was first having the beginnings of an idea of what this story would become, june’s description was ‘a revenge driven victim of nonconsensual body modification/experimentation.’ she was always designed to be the perfect experiment, in a way. she’s the timepiece, not a cog, of the weaponization of children.

june’s story is one of agency. of irony. she’s dissociated from her body - it is just a thing she lives in. it was something that was made by other people. she uses that body to kill the people that made her, as if saying, ‘look what the body you made can you do. look what the thing you made is capable of.’ she is the sword that turns on its owner, the weapon that fights back instead of fleeing. where does the weapon end and the girl begin? she doesn’t even know herself.

june is the ice to india’s fire. they complement each other like that. she’s the level headed one, the executioner. india’s all impulsivity and anger, emotions spilling out over the edges as june keeps everything she feels close. she doesn’t even know how much she’s feeling at any time; june keeps everything muted, a further dissociation from the self.

her revenge is not really revenge so much as it is vengeance. it’s the only way she can even begin to reclaim her agency, and while she acknowledges that at some level, outwardly the reason for what she does is simple: so that it never happens to anyone else. not for herself, but for everyone else. or so she tells herself.

“We’re here,” Vail said. “If you ever want to talk more about any of it, we’re here.”

“But you’re not,” Emrys said, hating the way her voice cracked on the last word. “All of you are here, but you’re not there.”

They were alone. She felt terrible and peculiar, as if they were pins on a map, standing in the same city but far away from each other. As if walking in parallel lines, but heading in different directions. When India had been there, things had been different. When Aerin had been there, Emrys had thought she would at least have the comfort of knowing she wasn’t alone, but she was alone. They all were.

emrys wasn’t supposed to be that main of a character, but she ended up badgering her way into the story anyways, snatching up a large percentage of povs. she became very close to my heart, maybe because, out of all of the characters, she was the most like me in her mind (and i spent a lot of time in her mind). kind of like my embodiment of girlhood - she’s in her nebulous coming of age, in the background: confronting hard truths and hard feelings alongside grief, as she steps into new shoes all on her own. she didn’t quite end up following the ideas i had in mind for her, but i’m pretty satisfied with the emrys i have left.

emrys was supposed to be the hope of the group. in every story (at least for me), there must be someone who represents the new when it comes to the old (pain, trauma, tradition, etc). in a twist of irony, emrys herself became aware of this - she herself thinks that she doesn’t want to be hope, or in pandora’s box at all.

for a character that was supposed to be the happy, bright one, the emrys we meet in tmotl is living out an aftermath. that happy, bright girl is who she used to be. the girl she is now is one transforming, becoming a darker shadow to her brighter body. many of the things she does throughout the story would be considered uncharacteristic from those who know her, and even though the readers are not aware of who this girl used to be (and only catch glimpses of her), the reactions of other characters tell us this.

“You know why I saved you,” Catrin said. 

“I do,” Vin agreed. He could never forget the life debt he carried so heavily on his heart, which had stayed his hand a hundred times over. It was the reason he was loyal to her after all; their relationship was built on mutual debt, with which came a degree of shared trust. Vin had always known that one day she might aim him at someone with intent to kill, and he would do it. If only to keep the balance.

onto vin, one of the older members of this vigilante group at 25, but no less important. he is supposed to come off as almost inhuman - flexible beyond measure, moving like a shadow, so quiet that he makes no noise at all, as if he was a ghost. vin is a mystery, and a private person, who is frustratingly hard to understand to his younger counterparts, such as india and emrys, and still an enigma to his older partners, such as anele. he has one of the most thought out characterizations (because i had so much to work out when it came to his character), but you probably learn the least about him throughout the story.

vin bears the brunt of india’s anger and emrys’ frustration in the story, partially because he’s so hard to communicate with (in a way), and partially because he’s the one they want to prove themselves to. he’s aloof and talented; he never messes up, or calls the wrong shot. he was built for the job, it seems. of course, this is what it looks like on the surface - underneath tells a story, the dark side of june’s moon. human experimentation to the point of dehumanization. on the surface, he looks ordinary. inside, who knows what he has become.

vin operates by a strict moral code. he’s brutal, and capable of extreme cruelty, but he never kills. in a fight, he says, the only thing that matters is the people you want to protect. one rule, but it’s the only thing that matters. this is where he and india clash - she wants the black saint dead, but vin will never kill (for reasons relating to backstory info that can’t be shared at this moment lol).

a fun fact, though, which i don’t think i actually mentioned in the first draft even though it’s so clever, is that vin is short for corvin. corvin derives from corvinus, which derives from the latin word corvus in turn. corvus literally means raven, but it also refers to the genus of birds including crows, ravens, etc. his vigilante name is crow btw.

Angry was too close to being a bomb herself, and for all her sermons on understanding bombs, Anele had already died in the face of one. She did not want to become one herself.

When bombs exploded, they left no survivors. Even the ones who lived were not untouched. 

The ones who died, too, even.

anele!! the wisest of the bunch, maybe, if wisdom equals years. she’s not the mother figure, but more like an older sister to many of the vigilantes. someone you would go to for advice. where everyone else came from empty and hard childhoods, anele grew up loved with a single father, in a suburban neighborhood. she has memories she can look back on with fondness, instead of ones tainted by death or grief.

although anele is always moving forwards, she, too, is mired in the past. she grieves for herself. she visits her father as a ghost, leaving him things without ever knocking on the door, because she is afraid she wouldn’t be welcomed back as one of the living. so much of her current life is trapped in the half second before she died the first time. she might not have believed in the system, but she participated in it, until dying. then, she realized it was always going to fail her. despite being straight laced, she believes in the gray line between black and white, the area outside of laws and all that.

anele steps into the role of x-le with ease, but at the heart of the matter, she doesn’t trust catrin, especially since she never asked to be saved, or to be brought back to life with metal in her veins. she doesn’t allow this to color her professional relationships, but on a personal level, she doesn’t hide her scrutiny.

anele and vin have by far one of my most favorite relationships in the novel, mostly because she is, at least, deeply in love with him in a way that can’t even be described as love. it’s subtle, but interwoven in all their interactions. feelings where there shouldn’t be. emotion where it can’t exist. makes me go insane, honestly.

You didn’t have to answer, Diem thought, but couldn’t make herself say it, because a part of her had always been waiting. Ever since her childhood, when she had first heard the whispered rumors about her father, when she had realized that there would always be questions about her birthright and place following her, she had been waiting for a father to claim. For a father to destroy.

Her mother’s hand on her own, helping her slide the knife into skin, wiping the blood spray for her face gently, showing her how to clean the blade. 

diem is, out of all the vigilantes (our heroes and heroines), the most antagonistic one by design. she is one of the characters that was meant to stay the truest to their original designs (of an old wip also called tmotl i half planned back in 2019-2020, of which several characters were taken off the shelf and dusted off for this story). the diem i created then was cutthroat and hard to the bone, the kind of person who used people and threw them away when she was done. here, her personality is a bit toned down, if only because she has to take the back burner - she’s not the leader, but now a ‘lackey.’ a team member. however, although diem might be one with the team, she very much chafes against the idea, an independent contractor.

daughter of the infamous bowman, a criminal overlord, and an unnamed man, diem grew up in a life of elite crime. she might have died since then, but it only made her harder. out of all of them, diem is the one who focuses the most on impartiality, of cutting things off before they drag her down. she cuts her losses before they can cut her. sentimentality has no place in her - she is a brutal machine, always pushing herself forward. the only soft spot she has is for vail, and even then, she’s hard pressed to show it. to diem, all her weaknesses became her strengths, including her death.

to india, diem is someone she wants to destroy. prior to death, they were always at each other’s throats, and after it, it’s no surprise that diem is the main voice preaching that india can’t be saved. their similarities only cause their differences to be more abrasive.

Kevla already had one saint. It didn’t need another. The audacity they had to call themselves Saints when all they did was contribute to the hell so many people were trapped in made Vail vengeful—he didn’t believe in Saints, and even if he did, they wouldn’t be the ones who walked the streets. Saint wasn’t a title one gave themselves; it had to be earned.

vail is the quiet one. where everyone else is brimming with opinion and emotion, vail is in the backdrop, a muted color against all the vivid, dark ones competing for space. he is kind and compassionate in comparison to diem’s hard headed ruthlessness, but he’s also the only one who can meet her head on without getting emotionally involved - maybe that is why he is the only one who can temper her.

vail is a man of family and faith, but he keeps both those things close to his heart. although he is a sentimental person, he is always hiding that part of himself, because it got him hurt, over and over again. family and faith hurt him, killed him, but he doesn’t know how to let it go. can’t. 

all the characters pay homage to some sort of divine presence at least once or twice throughout tmotl, but vail is the only one who believes in a specific god, instead of an entity-that-might-be-a-god, or kevla-as-a-god-or-divine-being. kevla is a city that kills organized religion, but vail’s faith is too great to be killed.

He’d thought that he had gotten over it. That the past had stopped chasing him. That, when the past finally found him, Mika would be ready for it. That he would fight it. That he would kill it. 

How many times had he dreamed of that night? How many times had he dreamed of another dreary Kevlan landscape, where this time he was the victor?

mika, son of the mockingbird. like diem, he believes in absolute strength, not allowing himself any sign of weakness. he’s very independent, and though he seems unwavering, he’s actually insecure in his identity, if only because of the immeasurable shadow his parents - a chemist and famous vigilante, respectively - left behind.

mika’s story is one of legacy. like his mother before him, he traverses the city in the guise of night, as phantom. he’s cynical, the pessimistic voice among those who believe in the best, and deals with everything that bothers him with coldness, putting up high walls. although he seems closed off, inside he carries a bone deep determination to survive, to defeat ‘evil’ and triumph. his thoughts on justice are often unclear, as is his morality, but he approaches the title of vigilante with a ruthless efficiency.

catrin flint, emrys’ aunt, is mika’s guardian, through a series of loosely explained events - often because it is not clear to mika or emrys themselves how catrin knew his mother, and what led her to take him in. mika never wanted another family, and that much is clear to both flints, but he is also the one who ends up being the most in emrys’ corner as she goes through grief and changes. he doesn’t agree with her on most things, but he stays by her side all the same.

mika was originally supposed to have a touch of magical realism to him as well - and he should still, if the necessary revisions are done and hints portrayed. mika was supposed to be someone who walked the shadowy line of the veil, seeing/communicating with the dead, or hand in hand with death (with nebulous connections to his own death or near-death experience). 

Suicidal, Drakov had called him back then, when he had spared him and Jericho had thrown it away in favor of not taking the hint, trailing him because he had seen a lifeline in the other man, one he wanted to grasp, like flailing in the ocean and chancing upon a buoyancy device. It was coming out of a haze, like a dying man who had been living life with the expectation of it ending only to realize that he wanted to live. 

But Jericho wasn’t fifteen. He was Jailbird, had been for years. He’d trained under Drakov, the only person he knew who had had the honor. He’d managed to survive in this shitty city, had gotten out of the trap where thousands of others had died, and had carved out a living without paying penance to anyone but himself.

jericho’s the only vigilante without a team, but he makes up for it by having plenty of connections. he’s india’s friend, before and after. he becomes mika’s and emrys’ connection in the grimy city, and potential ally. he communicates with the dragon, the only person who can reveal information on the assassin on a personal, instead of professional, level (with the exception of a few). 

a vigilante who is more like a mercenary, jericho goes by the pseudonym jailbird, and mostly keeps to himself. he’s shrewd, witty, and plays the game as smart as he can as a kid on his own - and it’s worked; he’s managed to avoid any major trouble. out of all the cast, jericho is one of the few who avoids a near death experience. 

still, he deals with a fair amount of imposter syndrome and guilt, most of which is only alluded to, as he only gets the rare pov. i can’t speak much on him because several big facts about him are technically plot relevant info that gets revealed in the novel itself.

June wondered if that was before or after he had died for the first time, before or after the first time he had tried to kill himself. With Rhys, the first time had never been the last. She thought of what he had said the last time they had talked so closely. I don’t care about life or death, June. I don’t care about the people I kill. I don’t care if it gets me killed. 

She held the blade up to him. The pale light glinted on the edges, showing the smooth, glossy sheen of it all. 

if winter were a person, it would be personified through rhys. aptly enough, his last name is winters, although this never gets mentioned in-text (i don’t believe). surprisingly, rhys doesn’t get a single pov throughout tmotl, even when most of the characters mentioned here get at least one (like mika). still, he has a presence, if only because he is june’s partner in crime. they come from the same history, cut from the same cloth. 

rhys is the apathetic type of person who doesn’t believe in anything. he’s suicidal (to a lesser degree in the present, but this is still an explicit textual fact). he likes to weaponize his discomfort and acidic personality to make other people (namely kit) uncomfortable. human misery on the downlow, though this could also be attributed to the fact that he lives a miserable existence - as if his history wasn’t bad enough, in death he was saved and made alive only through the fact that he is literally toxic, consigning him to a life wearing a gas mask, as his breathe could kill people if it is not filtered.

in tmotl, rhys is in many ways an abettor. does he care for june’s revenge? not really, but he helps her with it anyways, because what he feels for june is complicated, but he would follow her anywhere, if only because she gives him something to do. does he care about kit? does he care about human life? who knows. sometimes he says things just to be contradictory. 

rhys was also from the original wip, and he stays much the same, if a little more fleshed out. so does his and kit’s antagonistic relationship.

Flames were dancing in the fever bright blue of Kit’s eyes, his arm running red as he carelessly studied the tracker, letting it catch the light. She could see the thin displeasure set in Rhys’ mouth, even behind the gas mask, which snaked around his ears, the rebreathers fitted like a glove to the lower half of his face. He passed her a strip of cloth wordlessly, his own arm bound. She in turn took Kit’s hand, nodding at the tracker as she cinched a quick tourniquet. 

“I know,” Kit murmured, and then threw the tracker back towards the warehouse. His skin beneath June’s cool, blood stained fingers was burning. She could feel the thud of his heartbeat beneath the thin skin of his wrist, beating a wild rhythm, but when she looked at him more carefully, he still stood unwavering, which was good enough.

this excerpt is actually from page number one. kit, our final ‘main’ character (besides the villains and adults of the story, which are not quite as interesting, and also don’t have much i can reveal about them without spoiling things), is part of june’s team of three. he doesn’t go out in costume like basically every single other character; he doesn’t even have a code name. he’s the technology behind june’s operation, the one who runs things behind the scenes for her and rhys.

kit is important because he’s who june wants to protect. he’s one of the reasons she keeps moving forward at all. he’s a failure, at least to the organization - they saved him, but they couldn’t make him something better. sometimes, when you fix something broken, it doesn’t turn out as it was. for kit, this means a slow, aching death sentence, fighting the deterioration of his own body.

still, kit tries to stay brave in the face of it all. he’s light hearted, especially in comparison to rhys and june’s dark moods. he’s a light - something june follows, and rhys abhors. much of kit is a mix of appearance and projection; it is as it looks, but it also isn’t. sometimes, you’ve barely scratched the surface, because as much as kit is the open one, he also has a history of lying and conning that mark him as as much of a street kid as india, or june was.

he’s destined for death. the only question - one that is revisited throughout tmotl in scenes - is how long it will take before he gets there.

That last day in the Fold had never stopped being a blade lodged in his sternum. Vin could still feel it, the wound it covered. If he ever pulled the knife free, he would bleed out, but the longer he kept it in, the more damage would be done in the long run. 

He kept the blade in. It was the risk he could take, for now.

that’s it for now. i could go on and on, but i think i’ve written enough for now. if you have any questions about this work on the characters, or just want to know something, please reach out via my ask box or messages! i hope this piqued your interest - that being said, if you would like to be added to this specific taglist, or my general taglist, let me know in some way shape or form!

taglist: @cannivalisms @sunshineomeara @thepixiediaries @muddshadow

[gh0stlyink]

[ m e t a m o r p h o s i s ]

[ᵏᵃʳˡ ʰᵉⁱˢᵉⁿᵇᵉʳᵍ ˣ ᶠ!ᵒᶜ]

⁻ ʷⁱᵖ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵒ | ʳᵉˢⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᵉᵛⁱˡ ᵛⁱˡˡᵃᵍᵉ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁻

𝔖𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰

-begins some months before the events of resident evil village-

She wakes up in a forest with no memory of who she is or where she came from. Karl Heisenberg is notified of her presence, and fetches her. After close examination, he finds she is marked with something familiar, and brings her to Mother Miranda. Viewing her like a gift, Miranda gives her the name Zero, and puts her under the charge and care of Heisenberg. While Miranda clearly plans to use Zero to help develop the process of regaining her long lost daughter, Heisenberg has other ideas...

Zero soon starts to remember things that she would later regret remembering.

𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 - ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ | ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ | ʳᵒᵐᵃⁿᶜᵉ

𝔗𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 - ᵗʰⁱʳᵈ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ | ᵖᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵉⁿˢᵉ

𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔰 - ᵈʳᵃᶠᵗⁱⁿᵍ | ᵖᵒˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ᵃˢ ⁱ ᵍᵒ

𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔰+𝔗𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔢𝔰+𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - ¹⁸⁺ | ˢʷᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ | ˢˡᵒʷ ᵇᵘʳⁿ ʳᵒᵐᵃⁿᶜᵉ | ᵐᵃʲᵒʳ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵉᵛᵉˡᵒᵖᵐᵉⁿᵗ | ᵃᵍⁿˢᵗ | ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ˡᵒˢˢ | ʰᵘᵐᵃⁿ ᵉˣᵖᵉʳⁱᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ | ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗˢ | ᵇᵉᵗʳᵃʸᵃˡ | ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ | ˢᵉᵛᵉʳᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵘᵐᵃ | ᵐᵉⁿᵗᵃˡ ⁱˡˡⁿᵉˢˢ | ᵈⁱˢˢᵒᶜⁱᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ | ᵖᵗˢᵈ | ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ | ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ | ʳᵉᵈᵉᵐᵖᵗⁱᵒⁿ | ˢᵃᶜʳⁱᶠⁱᶜᵉ | ᵐʸˢᵗᵉʳʸ | ᵐᵃⁿⁱᵖᵘˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ | ⁱˢᵒˡᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ | ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ | ʰᵘʳᵗ/ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ | ⁱ'ᵐ ᵃ ˢᵘᶜᵏᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ ʰᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵒⁿᵉ

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰

Zero | Main Character [character intro]

mid to late twenties. no memory. terrified and timid. wants nothing more than to make new memories. finds herself in a terrible situation that she just to happens to be able to fix. with a price.

Heisenberg | Romance Character

very old, like one hundred years old. determined. flirtatious. dangerous. would kill anyone who put his hands on Zero, except him, but he would never admit it out loud. hates that bitch, Miranda.

Cynthia | Supporting Character [character intro]

age unknown. head maid at Castle Dimitrescu. lacks most emotions. the emotions she does have are dulled. feels no pain. finds herself wanting to get close with Lady Zero, wanting to take care of her, and ease her woes.

𝔒𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰

Mother Miranda - a bitch from hell. Lady Dimitrescu - entitled and spoiled, but has a cold warmth about her. The Dimitrescu Daughters - Bela seems cool, but the other two want to fight. Donna Beneviento - sad and really just needs a friend. Salvatore Moreau - stinky ass-kisser. Ethan Winters - a man who just really wanted a normal life, with a normal wife, and a normal daughter.

𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔯𝔟

First, she wakes up all alone in the middle of a forest. Then some beast man sniffs her all up. Then another man, who just so happens to be able to control metal, abducts her and brings her to some sort of cult like meeting. And finally she is given the temporary name Zero, then put under the wing of her abductor.

Her few hours of memory have been quite interesting, though she supposed terrifying would be a better way to put it.

read it on: wattpad | ao3 | fanfiction

[writer's notes]

i have been working on this wip for a few months

if you wanna be on the taglist for this just wip let me know

the wip tag is - wip: metamorphosis

all kinds of interaction are welcome, feel free to reblog with your comments i know how it feels to wanna say stuff but not really feeling like i have the place to

while i am posting the drafted chapters online, i will eventually go back and edit things [make things smoother and such] when i am done with it. this is no where near perfect.

i will be editing this along the way, adding character intro links

cynthia is based off of a character in the game Haunting Grounds named Daniella. i would have used that name, but there is already and Daniela in RE8 so i changed it. i also made her not so homicidal

zero is baby now, but will become a badass later on, i promise

[sadcatjae]

Sadcatjae Masterpost

Just a list of all my ongoing writing incl. gifs and vids. Let me know if you want to be added/removed from taglists.

INTRO POST

***

The Perfect Tyrant

Tyrannical Emperor of Eshara has been captured and held hostage in his own palace after the rebellion rises against him.

1. Suffocation I 2. Crushed I 3. Cut I 4. Apathy (WIP)

The Demon & The Priest

A demon seeks the aid of his mortal enemy, a warrior of the light, when he is cursed by his former master.

1. Help I 2. Curse I 3. Rest I 4. Cold (WIP)

Extra 1: Just Like A Mortal

Nothing Boy

A kind-hearted warrior of light attempts to save his cruel and sadistic warden.

1. A Tender Killing I 2. Liberation I 3. Healing I 4. Fight I 5. Isolation (WIP)

Metamorphosis

A highly sheltered and privileged college student is kidnapped and thrust into a dark underbelly world.

1. Waking Up I 2. Bullet Wound (WIP)

Mercy

A broken assassin, used then discarded by the crown, is exiled to a small town where he meets a young guard determined to save him.

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 (WIP)

One Shots/Other Writing

Arrow Removal: A caustic young master is shot by an arrow and needs it removed.

Collapse: An innocent man standing accused for murder collapses at his own trial.

Panic Attack: A home intruder has a panic attack as he attempts to torture his victim.

Pretty: A bank robbery goes wrong and the perpetrator is stabbed by one of the hostages. Possible second part TBC.

Sweet Thing: Earnest gets his hand toasted. Delicious Earnest sandwich.

The First Shot: A prisoner is injected with pure pain element in exchange for cash. One down, nine more to go.

Juniper's Question: A clueless immortal asks a human what it means to love.

Meant To Be Yours: My ongoing (and super whumpy) Heathers fanfic, retelling the events of Heathers from JD's POV.

Rin the Rat: My ongoing BL novel that's full of whump and angst and Gay.

Welcome Home, Caleb Widogast: My ongoing Critical Role fic about my favourite squishy wizard that's also full of whump and angst and Gay. Currently on hiatus.

Whumpy Gifsets

Love & Redemption: Part One I Part Two I Part Three I Part Four

Heathers: the Musical (JD Gifset)

Whumpy Vids

Ever Night (Season 2)

Till the End of the Moon

Sugar Apple Fairy Tale

Tale of the Nine Tailed 1938: Episode 3 I Episode 6

[attollogame]

What are your side WIPs right now? I love your writing, so I'm curious 👀

Plz I have so many 😭 rn its Metamorphosis (@metamorphvsis), Reap(O) (@reap-o), and the Fae one is The Eachtra. Reap(O) and Eachtra don't have intro posts (Metamotphpsis does) but basically:

Reap(O) follows you—college student at risk of losing their scholarship—getting a job at a repossession company that ends up being run by the god of death

Eachtra follows you (again) getting pulled into the Otherworld by the Wild Hunt on Samhain to solve the murder of the Crown Seelie Prince to hopefully prevent a full-scale war between the Seelie and Unseelie (who are being accused of the death) Courts

[gh0stlyink]

Zero [C I R C E]

⁻ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵗᵃᵐᵒʳᵖʰᵒˢⁱˢ ⁻

𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 | 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧 | 𝙖𝙗𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮

𝔅𝔞𝔰𝔦𝔠𝔰 - ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ | ᵐⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵗʷᵉⁿᵗⁱᵉˢ | ᶠ | ˢʰᵉ/ʰᵉʳ | ʰᵉⁱˢᵉⁿᵇᵉʳᵍ-ᵈᵉᵐⁱ⁻ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ/ᵖᵃⁿʳᵒᵐᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜ | ⁿᵒ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ᵖʳᵉᵛⁱᵒᵘˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ

𝔄𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 - ⁵"⁵ | ¹⁴⁵ˡᵇˢ | ᵖᵃˡᵉ ʷʰⁱᵗᵉ | ᵖᵃˡᵉ ᵖⁱⁿᵏ ᵉʸᵉˢ | ᵛᵉʳʸ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ ʰᵃⁱʳ | ˢˡᵉⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒⁿᵉᵈ | ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵏⁱⁿ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵉʸᵉˢ ʰᵃˢ ᵃ ʳᵉᵈᵈⁱˢʰ ʰᵘᵉ, ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵖˢ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳˢ, ᵗⁱᵖˢ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵉˢ, ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵏⁿᵉᵉˢ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵉˡᵇᵒʷˢ. ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵇˡᵘˢʰᵉᵈ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢᵉ

The irises of her eyes were the same color as the reddish pink tints around her eyes and knuckles, but paler. It bled into a black color that made her pupils seem larger than they actually were.

The sight unsettled her. They seemed unnatural, but she couldn't recall what they were supposed to look like. She blinked as if they would change once she opened her lids; as if they would turn to some other color, something that looked more normal - but that didn't happen.

𝔏𝔦𝔨𝔢𝔰 - ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ | ʲᵒᵘʳⁿᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ | ᵗʰᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵒʳᵐˢ | ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴴᵉⁱˢᵉⁿᵇᵉʳᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵗᵒʳʸ ⁽ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ⁾ | ᶜʸⁿᵗʰⁱᵃ | ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵉʷ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ˢʰᵉ ʰᵒᵖᵉˢ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ | ʷʰⁱᵗᵉ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ | ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵉʷ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ | ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᵖᵃˢᵗ

𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢𝔰 - ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ | ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵒʳˢ | ᴹᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᴹⁱʳᵃⁿᵈᵃ | ⁿᵉᵉᵈˡᵉˢ | ᵈᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗᵒᵒ ʰᵒᵗ | ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴴᵉⁱˢᵉⁿᵇᵉʳᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵉˣᵗᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵖᵉʳⁱ��ᵈˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ | ᴹᵒʳᵉᵃᵘ | ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ | ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ | ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵘˢᵉˡᵉˢˢ | ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᵖᵃˢᵗ

"You're stronger than you know, sweetheart."

[Metamorphosis WIP Intro]

[writer's notes]

as always, feel free to ask to be on the taglist for this wip

the wip tag is - wip: metamorphosis

if you are interested in reading, i have already started uploading it to - wattpad | ao3 | fanfiction

goddess, i love making moodboards so much

cynthia will be up next for character intros

it is totally okay to come to ask about my characters, actually it would be p r i m e and might even help me develop them further

will probably be coming back to edit this post with links and stuff

[gh0stlyink]

[C Y N T H I A]

⁻ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵗᵃᵐᵒʳᵖʰᵒˢⁱˢ ⁻

𝙥𝙪𝙣𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡 | 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 | 𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙘

𝔅𝔞𝔰𝔦𝔠𝔰 - ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ | ᵃᵍᵉ ᵘⁿᵏⁿᵒʷⁿ | ᶠ | ˢʰᵉ/ʰᵉʳ | ˡᵉˢᵇⁱᵃⁿ | ᵃʳᵒᵐᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜ | ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵐᵃⁱᵈ ᵃᵗ ᶜᵃˢᵗˡᵉ ᴰⁱᵐⁱᵗʳᵉˢᶜᵘ

𝔄𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 - ⁵"⁸ | ¹⁶³ˡᵇˢ | ᵖᵃˡᵉ ʷʰⁱᵗᵉ | ⁱᶜʸ ᵇˡᵘᵉ ᵉʸᵉˢ | ˡᵃᵛᵉⁿᵈᵉʳ ʰᵃⁱʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ᵐⁱᵈ⁻ᵇᵃᶜᵏ | ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵉᵃʳˢ ⁱᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʷᵒ ⁿᵉᵃᵗ ᵗʷⁱˢᵗˢ ᵒⁿ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ | ʰᵒᵘʳᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ

Lavender hair framed her pale face, and it was styled in two twisting braids that fell over her chest. Though the corners of her mouth were upturned, her heavy-lidded eyes looked a dead gray; completely apathetic.

Taking a bow, while holding one arm out to the side, the servant spoke in a dull voice. She had absolutely no emotion. "Welcome to Castle Dimitrescu, Lord and Lady."

𝔏𝔦𝔨𝔢𝔰 - ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ | ᶜⁱʳᶜᵉ | ᴮᵉˡᵃ | ᴰᵒⁿⁿᵃ | ᵗᵉᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ | ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ | ᵍᵃʳᵈᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ | ᶜᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵍᵒᵘʳᵐᵉᵗ ᵐᵉᵃˡˢ | ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ | ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉᵛᵉⁿᵍᵉ | ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵇʳᵃʳʸ | ᵐᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰᵉˢ | ᵖᵒˡⁱˢʰⁱⁿᵍ ˢⁱˡᵛᵉʳ | ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ

𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢𝔰 - ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ | ᶜᵃˢˢᵃⁿᵈʳᵃ | ᴰᵃⁿⁱᵉˡᵃ | ʷʰᵉⁿ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᶜʰⁱⁿᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏˢ | ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ | ᵉˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᶜˡᵒᵗʰᵉˢ | ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵃʳᵉˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ��ᵉᵗˢ ʰᵘʳᵗ | ᵃⁿʸᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗˢ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵃʳᵉˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ

"You will only find the finest of the fine here, Lady Zero."

[Metamorphosis WIP Intro]

[writer's notes]

i have been meaning to make this forever now

Cynthia is one one of my pride and joys

she is based off of Daniella from Haunting Grounds and also Sebastian from Black Butler

also has ASPD

also is amazing

this is my moodboard <3 don't share it outside of reblogging this post, please

if you wanna be on the taglist for this wip, just let me know!

[you-are-my-neverland]

the metamorphosis of the lost - a comic sans presentation

this is basically a new wip idea i had a few days ago that i am really into even without any idea of how to plot it!

lmk in some way or the other if you want to be on a taglist? i’m working on some ~extensive~ character intros which i will be posting slowly by surely soon !! :)

the tag is #wip: the metamorphosis of the lost

[you-are-my-neverland]

— wips by lrh (@you-are-my-neverland)

ask/reblog/reply to be added to any of the taglists! i also write poetry :)

FAIRBONE

↪ former best friends must reconcile as they both end up chasing the same quest; a teenage boy who is the last of a lost fae bloodline. 

genre. ya fantasy

in existence since. jan. 2020

current stage. first draft (around 75% done)

wip intro.

tag. wip: fairbone

THESE VIOLENT ENDS

↪ demon and ghost fighting warriors bond together to stop the fated apocalypse in 1925 new york.

genre. ya urban fantasy

in existence since. march 2020 (camp nano april 2020 project)

current stage. first draft (goal of 25k for camp)

wip intro.

tag. wip: these violent ends

THE TRUTH OF RAPHAEL TORREZ

↪ a boy recalls his friendship with the nightingales, an elite society in his new school, a month after waking up from an accident involving them that he cannot seem to remember right.

genre. ya contemporary fiction, coming of age

in existence since. nov. 2019 note: this was a secondary nano 2019 project, but it was on hold for a couple months

current stage. revamping + first drafting (as of mar. 2020)

wip intro.

tag. wip: ttort 

THE METAMORPHOSIS OF THE LOST

↪ eleven teenagers are brought back from the dead with special abilities by a mysterious scientist called the practitioner and are thrown into a a mix of games and heists as they adjust to working as a team and living their second chance at life.

genre. ya dark fantasy

in existence since. apr. 2020

current stage. plotting + first draft

wip intro.  comic sans presentation

tag. wip: the metamorphosis of the lost

GODS OF LIARS AND DREAMS

↪ in a post pandora’s pithos world, a young bounty hunter is told she has forty nine days left to live and will only survive if she successfully traps the seven deadly sins in the (missing) pithos.

genre. ya legend/myth

in existence since. apr. 2020

current stage. plotting + first draft

wip intro. n/a

tag. wip: gods of liars and dreams

UNTITLED

↪ in a city filled with anarchy and crime, the girl who killed the king is brought together with the missing king’s son as they work under the mysterious ruler of the underground crime scene, fittingly nicknamed the devil.

genre. ya dark fantasy

in existence since. apr. 2020

current stage. plotting??

wip intro. n/a

tag. n/a

THE VANISHING POINT

↪ a girl who has been missing for five years returns, a boy goes missing, and another girl receives a death threat; one month later the boy turns up dead and the latter girl believes she might be next on the list.

genre. ya mystery (dark academia esque)

in existence since. apr. 2020

current stage. first draft + plotting

wip intro. n/a

tag. wip: the vanishing point

tl;dr i’m an inconsistent writer who creates wips at the drop of the hat and then gets attached to them in an instant while not working consistently on any of them. the end.

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A Gh0stly Writeblr Intro

Prologue

this is my new writing blog. my old one was a side blog i had linked with my witch blog named "witchywrite". i have since deleted that blog and now i'm here! on this one! if you followed my old writing blog, let me know 🥰 especially if we were mutuals.

About The Gh0st

i'm Jo and i'm currently trying to get my life together

25 | they/them

writer | artist | tarot reader

v neurodivergent | adhd | lots of trauma

been writing ever since i could remember, but on and off. used to do 1x1 roleplays a l o t

A Gh0st's Writing

mostly fanfiction | some fiction | some poetry

i love making mood boards for my wips

to be completely honest, i write more oc x canon fanfics more than anything, but i do have a very small bit of canon x canon up my sleeve. i have one oc x oc lesbian fic, but we will get to that later

most of my current fiction is flash and drabbles. most of my poetry is about my mental health or how i am feeling

i am currently going through a change in my content. it's slow, but i think i have made a bit of progress. i want to start challenging myself with my writing more. mostly, i just wanna write more nb!ocs instead of f!ocs, because i am actually nb. also, i wanna write more x reader stuff.

I also want to work more on my fiction wip.

most of all, i write mostly for my own enjoyment, but support is always welcome

Current WIPS [edited 8.14.21]

Metamorphosis | [Resident Evil: Village - f!oc x Heisenberg] Wouldn't it suck to not be able to remember anything before meeting a rather rambunctious metal man? Guess things could be worse...Like remembering. (you can actually read this on my wattpad/ao3/fanfiction if you want, which are linked below :) [wip intro]

The Veiled (name placeholder) [Fantasy Fiction - f!oc x f!oc] A hybrid (witch and vampire) thief has been sent to fetch an item of importance for the Veil (leader) of the vampire race. The Veil makes sure to send a loyal underling, a faerie, with her so that she doesn't go off with the item herself.

Avoiding Ashes | [Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines - f!oc x f!oc] Ira is a freshly made Malkavian vampire, who had been thrusted into an under world of chaos and destruction. Embark on an adventure through her life as she turns being used as a pawn into something of an advantage. Those pesky voices have to be kept in check, too... [wip intro]

*Emotional Support Android [Detroit: Become Human - f!oc x Connor RK800] Salem is an android developer who primarily works on software that emulates human emotions. Amanda sends her to work on the widespread case of deviants, including sending her with an emotional support android. [Put on hold]

Epilogue

i want to thank you for reading<3

also, i really need to follow more people, so if you are a writeblr, please interact <3 my dash is v dead. rbs are g r e a t l y appreciated<3

Socials

wattpad | ao3 | fanfiction | main blog | witch blog | consider supporting me<3

[you-are-my-neverland]

[id: a header with a deep blue gray background. in the center, there is a circular photograph of a lighthouse. behind the photo is a monoline sun, eclipsed by the photo. in block text across the center reads ‘the metamorphosis of the lost: an update’ / end id]

it’s been a while since i’ve done one of these, but my writing has been going pretty well these past couple of weeks, so while i prepare other content (re: character intros (!!!). in 2022, i’ve managed to cobble together act iii: relapse, which was written over the course of the spring semester. i also, more recently, started act iv: revolution, and that’s going by nicely, especially as i strive to meet my daily word goals (hello, excel spreadsheet). 

anyways, in honor of having a taglist with more than one person on it, i’ve decided to post a few excerpts, which i haven’t really done for this wip lol. 

all words + the taglist will be under the cut for length purposes.

i. the red saint & her shadow. 

(an interaction between june and india from the beginning of act iii. a/n: this was written at the beginning of the year. writing them currently, i really feel like i’m missing something from their dynamic, so i’ve been rereading this scene a lot lol.)

Belladonna was quiet, her face slightly pinched beneath the domino. 

“If you didn’t have to,” she started. “Then why did you?”

“How could I not?” India said, and it sounded too honest, too vulnerable, even to her own ears, as if it was painfully obvious she was revealing some hidden part of herself to someone else. “Back then, I believed they were helping the city. When I was younger, I used to scoff at the idea of vigilantes and heroes, but after a while, after seeing it firsthand, I did become convinced that I could change things for the better for someone else. It gave me a drive for the first time in my life. Instead of just trying to survive for no particular reason, I could do something about it.”

“Yes, I was young. Fifteen. All the people I know started out younger.” She paused, thinking carefully over how to formulate her next thought. “Someone I knew used to always say that we can’t help what happened to us, or what it turns us into, but we can try and change ourselves once we see our own reflection. We can make things clearer. We can use what we see as flaws to do better. I grew up in the South District. I was an orphan. I learned how to hurt other people to protect myself. I never thought about justice because I never thought it was something I could control.”

Until now. Until then.

India hated to think that Vin had given her anything, but he had. He had given her power for the first time in her life, had allowed her to write her own destiny, decide how she wanted to do things, more so than anyone else had ever before.

It was what had blinded her, in the end. Believing that following someone else’s cause was her own. India had been beholden just as everyone else was; that was why she had been benched. She just hadn’t realized it, how trapped she actually was.

Now she was free. Now no one could tell her what to do. Now India was allowed to decide what was right and wrong and act on it. 

No more changing herself. No more being told to be better, be different, be someone else, someone they thought was more than whatever she was, a South District orphan born and raised on the rocks, unable to outgrow her own edges for fear of how unprotected it would leave her. India might not love her roots, but they were hers, in the end. She had come from this city. She was Kevlan, through and through. 

ii. flame & phantom

(another excerpt from act iii. emrys and mika go patrolling after finding out india is alive as the red saint, but are unable to save a woman’s life. a/n: somehow, a lot of tmotl ended up being emrys’ story, which i can’t say i mind. her pov is a lot of complicated thoughts most of the time.)

She had said she could do this. She had sounded so cool and confident, too. Emrys had been proud of herself, for being able to stand up for what she wanted. The rest of the conversation hadn’t gone as well, but she hadn’t let herself be shut down. Not this time. 

Now, she thought that they probably had a point, about her. Maybe she couldn’t do this.

Maybe she could.

Maybe both thoughts were equally terrible.

“I’m going to find India,” she announced. The flames licked at the edges of the jacket, already crinkling, the outer layer peeling away as the cloth beneath caught more easily, the fire dancing up into the sky with a bright shower of sparks that had her flinching back and shielding her face. The embers fell to the ground around Mika’s feet, burning and burning and then burning out.

Mika didn’t say anything. Emrys glanced at him coolly, and found him looking away from her. Fine by her. She didn’t care if he approved or not; better he didn’t notice she was gone at all, until she could clear more space.

Emrys waited another few seconds just to be sure, ignoring the part of her that whispered that she should check on him, make sure he was okay, but this was Mika. He was never not okay. Nothing fazed him, and no one. 

She sighed, staring down at her own feet, battered and bruised through the white of the ballet flats. There were drops of blood scattered along the seams, which bothered her now that she had noticed; she couldn’t stop focusing on it, the innocuous drops in no pattern except the one she conjured.

Mika still hadn’t said anything. Emrys looked at the embers of the jacket, then turned to scan the skyline, wondering where she could start, the wind whipping through her body and helping to pull her seams apart with vicious, grabby hands.

The abandoned warehouse, she thought. The place where India had died. She should start there, right? If there was going to be anything anywhere, it would be there. Maybe a clue to India’s resurrection, even. 

Emrys started to walk without even really thinking about it, setting forward at a determined pace, quickening as she got further and further away from the fire, and getting colder and colder. Without her jacket, much of the skin of her body was bare to the winds, her tank top protective but not warm. Kevla had vicious winters, so the fall became crueler as the months went by.  

She had turned the corner by the time she heard the footsteps behind her, not clattering or loud, but soft and steady, a quiet, rhythmic thump that belayed Mika grabbing her arm and grinding them both to a halt as he slowed, clothes and hair settling back down on his body as gravity descended.

“Let me go,” she said, white knuckled.

Mika let her go. Emrys turned to move, and he tripped her. It was only years of getting used to falling that had her catching herself with a half-dance of steps, turning so that they were facing one another.

“Enough of this,” Mika said. His eyes were burning. She could hear the quiet sounds of him breathing, harsher than normal.

“No,” she said. “I told you. I’m going to find India.”

“And Crow and X-le told us not to,” Mika said.

Emrys scoffed. “Like you’re the poster child for following orders.”

“Enough,” Mika repeated. “We’re either finishing patrol or going home.”

Another Emrys would have been happy that he used the word home, but this Emrys was feeling vicious and vengeful and torn up inside.

“I don’t want to,” she said spitefully. 

“Flame,” Mika said, the warning clear. 

“You’re my partner, not my boss,” Emrys said scornfully.

“I’m not either of those things,” Mika hissed, stepping closer. “I’m just the person making sure you don’t fuck anything up.”

That hurt. Emrys didn’t flinch, and was absurdly proud of herself for growing thicker skin in the time since a few hours ago. She was getting better and better at it.

“I didn’t ask you to do that!” she burst out. “You’re the one that followed me to begin with. I never asked for your help.”

“But you needed it,” Mika said, and though she couldn’t see his mouth, she could picture the small, cruel tilt of his half smile. She had to narrow her eyes to stop tears from falling, already feeling them well up in her eyes, like she was some weak and pathetic person who couldn’t keep it together.

“I’m going to look for India,” she repeated. “You can go home if you want.”

iii. sunrise after the fall gala

(an interaction between india and june in the aftermath of the fall gala (which takes up the majority of the beginning of act iv) and india’s ill thought out confrontation with the black saint. a/n: more recent writing and a more recent interaction between these two. act iv has been a mess lol.)

The laugh slid off India’s face.

“You can’t create something from nothing,” she said savagely. “I imagine that not even Catrin Flint can save someone who was burned alive.”

“Someone could,” June replied steadily.

“Then maybe it was Kevla herself,” India remarked sarcastically, rising to her feet and gritting her teeth against the spasm her leg sent.

“You’re really not curious?” June asked, also standing. The morning air nipped at her cheeks, the rosy glow of the rising sun starting to cascade over the skyline ahead of them. 

India shrugged carelessly. “It’s not that I’m not,” she said. “It’s just that it doesn’t matter. Or, it didn’t.”

June eyed her, pondering the words. In a way, that was understandable. June herself tried to care as little as possible pertaining to the motive of The Organization or the Benefactor. Motivation didn’t matter in the end. It was the actions that did.

They were both women of action, though they went about it very differently.

“Will I be hearing from you soon?” India asked after a second. 

June looked at her, parsing her thoughts.

India raised an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, we were kind of in on this together, right? This whole revenge scheme, or whatever you want to call it,” she hurriedly corrected after June coolly raised an eyebrow at the words “revenge scheme.”

June considered her. “Yes,” she said after a pause. “We are.”

India smiled. It transformed her face beneath the domino, softening the edges. India, June had found, often bared her teeth, but rarely smiled.

“I’m a comm away,” she said, sounding almost pleasant and energized at the prospect.

“I might take you up on that soon,” June said.

“Not gonna kiss and tell then?” India replied. “Just going to string me along.”

June surprised herself by the sharp half laugh that bubbled out of her.

“You’ve been helpful,” she said instead of replying, doubting that she could match India’s newfound wittiness. She had always had a sense of humor, even as a child. June was used to being the dour, serious one. Now she was the serrated blade, cold as steel and just as harsh. “Thank you.”

India sobered, looking at her as if she was an alien before she managed a stiff and slightly unsure, “You’re welcome.”

“Take care of yourself,” June added. “I don’t want to find you dead in a ditch before you can be useful.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” India replied sarcastically, but they had talked enough times for June to pick up the undercurrent of fondness with which she said it. “Take care, Belladonna.” She gave June a two fingered salute, and June found herself returning her impression of it before she could stop herself.

India smiled, and then she was sauntering off into the darkness, only a slight limp in her step and the helmet tucked under her arm any indication of what had gone down only hours previously.

June smiled privately to herself. India was wearing off on her.

taglist (scream to be added or removed!):  @cannivalisms   @sunshineomeara @thepixiediaries @muddshadow

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HI JO. I'm sharknadoslut from A03 and just dropping into say IM OBSESSED WITH METAMORPHOSIS 💋💖👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏🌠🌠 You are a phenomenal writer and I cannot WAIT to see what happens 😄

uhfaliusdfhiausdh,sjhfashdfiuahiasduhfilaushd Thank you for coming to my blog! <33333 Sorry it took me so long to respond to your reblog of my wip intro (which I really appreciate btw, it helps me a lot 😅) I have been at the house we are trying to by, trying to look for the hud plate (which someone lost so, we don't know where it is)

Just got home like 30 mins ago. After I do some game I've been tagged in, I'll be working on the next chapter more. I'm about half way done with it, but a bit more needs to be written before its done. you may or may not be getting another full memory hehe

But while you're here 👀 feel free to send me questions if you may have them, and I'll answer (without spoilers, of course) to the best of my ability heheh

oh yeah, and if you are interested in looking at the tag for it, its - wip: metamorphosis

Thank you again for showing me support and being so nice and stuff, it really mean a lot to meeeee!!!!!!🖤🥰

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Just did the moodboard for the wip intro to Metamorphosis, and I'm rather happy with it. Just gotta write up the post and make it look nice. This should be coming soon 😊

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Yup, yup. Did all of this. Posted Awegust week two, and the Avoiding Ashes wip intro. I even finished chap11 for Metamorphosis. Posted it on Wattpad, AO3, and fanfiction. (you can find links on my pinned post🥰)

Gonna take it easy for the rest of the night. Probably go to bed early.

Gonna be doing the Awegust week two when I get home from Taco Bell™ breaky, and I also finished the moodboard for the intro for Avoiding Ashes so that will probably be coming out today.