#wip: the name. witch

[cain-e-brookman]

Hey y'all, @creatingblackcharacters has created a challenge for Black History Month and I thought I'd share my entry. I'd like to tag @topazadine @illarian-rambling @mx-ryder and @spideronthesun for the challenge as well!

Uthyr is the main character of my current WIP: The Name, Witch. His is a story of healing, of putting down shame, and of being true to the spirit of what created you, no matter how the world wants you to bend. This is a scene that takes place about 10 years before we meet him in this same garden. Uthyr's greatest victory is always against despair. Uthyr's strength is in his conviction to himself, the culture and virtues that were passed onto him, and his love for the world around him. In my writing, I want my Black audience to see their own resilience in Uthyr. I want to highlight Black men in roles that are softer, but no less strong.

I also sincerely hope that this book can be a long shout out to my Black autistic sibs who are also obsessed with bugs, amphibians, and/or reptiles. I gave my hyperfixation to Uthyr, and I hope you feel seen with it as well. As I said in the comments to a very needed check, joy is just as important as resiliency, and I hope you find as much happiness as Uthyr does in with cold little buddies!

---

perhaps on the crest of each stiff blade of grass hangs the eternal name of someone who was once loved but is now vanished and just another name in an endless field of names that is newly remembered with each return trip of the eager nose...

-Hanif Abdurraqib from "The Crown Ain't Worth Much

The hydrangea bush to the north of his house was the first thing Uthyr put into the soil in his soon-to-be garden. An old witch tradition. The color of the flowers changed with the humors of the soil. Uthyr didn’t know which color he hoped for, just that it grew to be strong. He hoped the plant would grant him the same blessing.

The last thirty-some years of Uthyr’s life had left behind the cooled pyres of his family, and the last two since the death of his mother had left him adrift. The first, a long year where he’d traveled to nowhere in particular, stayed where he found place to stay, and searched desperately for a purpose. At the end of that long year, he realized, exuberantly, there was none. No end to rush to, no greater deed to be done. He would not be rewarded for suffering, would not reach some peak where it became all worth it. He would not find a purpose, nor would he make his own. He would, instead, simply live. Live brightly, now. Live fearlessly, now. He didn't know where he would go, but he knew where he would start.

He practiced his healing for the first time since his father died. A young girl had taken a fall in the small town in which he was staying. He'd gone to her without a thought, placed his hands around the break, and reached out where he knew the magic still laid. The feel of bone knitting beneath his fingers nearly had him in tears. He could hear his father’s warm, heavy voice as he worked:

Bone remembers its home, just not the way back. Remind it gently, and its journey will be painless.

The little girl hadn’t even cried. He’d pulled a dandelion seed that had stuck itself on his cloak and grew it into a miniature sun before placing it behind her ear for bravery. The Sun Goddess rarely answered his beckons for fire, and his stubbornness never won out over the Stone’s, but neither skill brought about the smiles of gratitude he’d seen in all his time healing. He wished it hadn’t taken him so long to appreciate that part of himself, that part of his father’s influence.

Then, after a long while of fighting with his own head, he finally chose himself. Two weeks in a temple to the God of the Golden Moon saw him leaving behind the word “daughter,” to be replaced with a name that held responsibility to no one but himself. Uthyr of the Asphodels, First of His Name. His mother’s now held nothing a burden of failure on his shoulders. He could have been better for her. Should have been better. But he could not make the dead proud, so he cast off the guilt. It no longer served either of them. 

He changed his hair. Spent a long day removing neat rows of braids from his head, combing and washing then rolling his hair like he’d seen his uncle do so many times. At the end of it all, he had sore arms and a deep satisfaction. The start of those locs still stuck oddly from his head in their awkward stage.

“Ugly stage,” his mother used to tease Uncle Callum when they recounted stories of their youth. His uncle would always raise an eyebrow and inform her in no uncertain terms that he’d never been ugly a day in his life. Uthyr planted snapdragons by his window for them both; their favorites. Yellow for his mom. Purple for his uncle. The seeds had been expensive for the paltry savings he’d kept from his brief stint of odd-job healing around the surrounding towns, but the memory of the two exchanging plants on their shared birthday had Uthyr lightening his coin purse without a second thought.

He continued with a few more plots around his house. A smattering of pansies for color, some herbs for healing, then some more for cooking… 

A single row of daffodils by his doorway. For his father. His birthday would be soon. Uthyr would cut one and light a candle. Pray the Death God pass on his love.

I’m alright, he’d tell his father. It’s hard and I’m tired, but it’s alright. I’ve got good soil under my feet and good hands to dig.

The anemones he planted on the shaded side of his house were for himself, though. They were delicate things, but right now so was his heart and that needed just as much care. He’d stay strong for them and they’d do the same for him. Water and sunlight. The start, his uncle would say, to any life worth living. 

And hope, Uthyr thought. Half of it was always hope.

When Uthyr finished for the day the sun was drawing long shadows across the forest floor. All but his pansies would not see color or flower for a long while, but as Uthyr dusted soil off the dark skin of his hands and forearms, he could already see the future it held. He would get some roses. Maybe not this year. He needed to plant his vegetable garden first. Maybe splurge on a fruit sapling. Tonight he would sit in his mostly empty home, cook a small pot of soup with ingredients from a garden that wasn’t his, and plan recipes for when his own produce grew. But as for now, he felt the waking breath of spring on his face, the softness of the grass under his legs as he dug his toes into the cool earth below him. 

A tentative peace was forming in his chest, walking haltingly like a newly born fawn. He’d found a creek not far from where he sat. He wondered if the tadpoles had yet grown legs.

---

And now, my excited rambling: the title of the poem before the cut is Notes On Waiting for the Dog to Find the Perfect Place to Take a Shit While Morning Cuts Through the Sky, Fresh From Another Darkness, which is quite possibly one of Abdurraqib's best titles and also a wonderful poem. I saw When I Say Loving Me Is Like Being a Chicago Bulls Fan posted on facebook at one point and I've been in love with his poetry since. The way he weaves pain and hope with his anger and his love in a way that criticizes a society that doesn't value himself or people like him, while celebrating his identity is both masterful and cutting. Listen to the man and buy his books! His essay collection, A Little Devil in America: In Praise of Black Performance is going to be my read for my essay collection square for the 2025 book bingo, and I'm really excited to finally get to it!

[hexcii]

I knowwww I said I wasn’t going to draw because I currently don’t have a desk and I didn’t want to further fuck up my back

Buuuuuuut

Consider this, TNG art (and sacrificing my legs instead of my back. The only feeling I’ve had in my legs in the past 7 hours is pain)

[benisbeaaaaans]

They are unbelievably fucked up I love them

[thebarontheabyss]

Can you share some spicy facts about the ROs? And RO reaction when the MC takes the lead (since they are the owner of the bar)?

Well well, let’s see… 👀

(Obviously, expect some adult themes ahead)

Death never felt the pleasure of physical intimacy—or at least, not according to their highly fractured memory. If they ever had sex, they’ve chosen to forget about it.

Nonetheless, it is something they wish to experience, although they need to take things slow. They are very romantic about it, though—they read a lot of… “romance” novels. They will be also very eager to please their partner. Expect a lot of “Am I doing this right?”

Death would absolutely appreciate you taking the lead—they’re way too nervous to do it themselves, and your confidence would be a huge relief.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the 56th Prince is a biter. Don't be surprised if you leave with a few light marks after a night with them.

Like everything else in their life, sex is a game to them, and they love playing with control. So, pushing their partner to their limits and hearing them beg is music to their ears.

They are fine with relinquishing control—but it’s mostly a farce—They’ll turn the tables on you later.

Morgan/a doesn’t take things too seriously in bed. Expect a lot of banter and generally playful energy.

They’ve had plenty of experience outdoors, so don’t be surprised if they suggest some unconventional locations. That said, a bed works just fine for them too. And yes, they use magic during sex. It’s Morgan/a—of course they do!

When it comes to you taking the lead, Morgan/a is all for it… as long as you don’t do anything they dislike. If you do, expect them to be very vocal about it 😤

Hastur has… a lot of stamina. You might want to invest in a very sturdy bed.

If you ask nicely, he’ll let you touch his horns.

Control is an interesting thing for Hastur. Most of the time, he’s focused on controlling himself, not you—taming the beast within, so to speak. He’s more than happy to let you take the lead and even prefers it, trusting you more than himself in those moments.

Peisinoe might have a blasé exterior, but they are deeply passionate about sex. They just haven't found anyone worthy for a long time… until now.

Unsurprisingly, they’re very vocal and loud in bed, so you’ll never have to wonder if they’re enjoying themselves.

Letting you take the lead would be their ultimate show of trust.

Lmao, if you’ve been here since the start, you know it’s YOUR goddamn fault I now have to write spicy facts about Mr. Shade over here. Jk, his romance path is one of the things I’m really excited to write.

But because of the nature of his story, most of this is deep spoiler territory. So, I’ll just say: yes, you WILL have the option to have sex with him. That’s a fact, right?

As for taking the lead… well, let’s just say that’s spoiler territory too. ;)

[flickerngflower]

Have been in the mood of finishing year+ old wips lately. My first victim.

[oobbbear]

New house new life new beginning

[cain-e-brookman]

Heads Up, Seven Up

Thanks so much @spideronthesun for the tag!

Rules: post the last seven lines you wrote, then tag seven people.

Wrote about 2k yesterday and they are very rough so...

The creatures didn’t understand fear. Didn’t understand death. Hardly could process life. Whatever it was that befell the Other, was beyond any language they had. He couldn’t protect us. He couldn’t protect her.  Then our home left.

And so I'll tagggggg: @topazadine @seastarblue @illarian-rambling @eternalwritingstudent @dearunreliablenarrator

@leahnardo-da-veggie and @satohqbanana

[afantasyoffiction]

hi hello i would like you guys to meet someone...

this is Sabrina :) she's my fmc for my wip, which i have spent like five years now thinking about and two years actually writing

credit to pinterest for all the pics obvi...

i would however like to share a few of my fav quotes ive written abt her, aka lines that encapsulate her character :)

“Does it hurt?” he murmured. She shook her head; she hadn’t even noticed the cut. She’d been too preoccupied with finding her friends.

She didn’t hesitate before plunging in head first.

“You’re okay,” she said. “Right? You’re okay?” “I’m fine, Sabs, but you…” “Fine, fine,” she replied, breathless. “Is everyone…”

She wanted to hit him, a little bit.

She’d never been one for foolish dreams. If it wasn’t going to happen, she didn’t see the point in pretending it would. But just this once, she could pretend for Ray - at least, until she was in the wind and he was safe where he belonged.

your honour i love her :)

please please please (i am literally begging) ask me questions abt her!

[qursidae]

Fancy Hella + Aya I got going cause I'm procrastinating finishing my OOTH map

[cain-e-brookman]

from my WIP, The Name, Witch

Uthyr kept calm as he moved once more though the halls until he’d made it outside the temple and off hallowed ground. The first step into a world not kept level by the Death God’s blessing took him out at the knees. Dropping to the ground, doubled over the bundle, he fought to even his breathing. The world fogged at the edges; Uthyr was glad to be on the ground where he could fall no farther.

“Stop being dramatic,” came a voice somewhere outside of Uthyr’s vision. “You did really good, actually.”

“I hate you.” The words felt juvenile, petulant. Uthyr was too shaken to articulate himself further. “You’re awful and I hate you.”

“You’re at the back of a very long line,” replied the Trickster, appearing in front of Uthyr’s kneeling form. He’d sloughed off the disguise of  “Everett,” twitching with energy and moving haltingly. As though the world could only hold him in moments. One second he looked as such and the next found him shifted to another stance. Another emotion. No wonder under the skin of a physical form he felt so chaotic. He hardly belonged in this realm at all.

Too difficult to get a full look, it was nearly impossible to pin down any true feature of his except that his hair and eyes were green, he was a short sort of skinny, and his right arm stopped at the elbow. Cut off by the Death God, Uthyr knew, in one of their innumerable skirmishes. In many ways, he appeared childish. Had the energy of a pre-adolescent. 

“I am actually impressed,” Emjir went on. “Obviously I’ve been called for your tricks, but I did have my doubts about how well you could pull that off without my assistance. Bravo. Am I using that right?”

His voice buzzed at the edges. Held multitudes. Broke through the pieces of the realm and reformed at Uthyr’s ears. Looking at him itched something in Uthyr’s mind. Something he should know, something he should see. Uthyr tightened his arms around the bundle. Its hum kept him in this world. He breathed in through his nose, holding the breath for a long moment before releasing it.

“Luminescent.”

The Trickster regarded him. “One more time?”

“Neither pearlescent nor iridescent,” clarified Uthyr. “It’s luminescent.”

“Huh,” said Emjir. “Go figure. An infant star should be iridescent, I think.”

do us both a favor and share with me a piece of your own writing that you really like. i wanna read some stuff

[starswordartblog]

There was. so much art i wanted to make this october, and then i got beat up by life in multiple ways, and now the month is over but by god i am going to post at least one thing. Anyway meet Clementina the witch, her dress is a cauldron.

I have been spinning her and her group of ocs/story for over an year so the fact that i starting finally designing her on halloween month is pure coincidence but fun. Sadly I couldn't finish the animation i wanted to go with this but here's a wip just to show off the concept:

wheeeeeee

[thebarontheabyss]

If the MC were to purpose to their ro(s); who would actually want to get married and what would be the ro(s) ideal way to be proposed too? (Polys included if applicable 🥺)

Great ask! Let's see... 👀

Death has obviously never considered the idea of marriage, but they also never considered the idea of love before you came along. So yeah, they would love to get married to you, though they may not know how to express this desire without... a little nudge. They’d prefer a quiet, private proposal somewhere intimate. A simple, heartfelt moment would be everything to them. Maybe a beach?

For a poly marriage, Death would be both honored to be a part of and a little nervous about tackling this "assignment." You'll have to constantly make sure they won't feel overwhelmed.

Hmm... Marriage is a complicated subject for Lilith/Damian. In the infernal culture, marriage is more about power and status—a transaction to climb or pay debts. So, for Lilith/Damian, saying "yes" would require a shift in perspective (as you are, unfortunately, not worth more than a single dime in Hell's currency) So, they’d need to overcome many of their own demons (and devils) to see marriage as anything more than a deal. But, if you managed to get through to them, they’d want a grand proposal—something unforgettable and a little extravagant.

They’d feel MUCH more comfortable in a poly marriage, though, as it better fits their worldview and sense of freedom, making it feel less like a contract and more like a constant choice.

For the Witch, marriage isn’t particularly important—they view it as one of many possible ways to express love. But if you were to propose, they would agree, as long as the wedding incorporates the cultural practices of Ffaraon.

They’d want the ceremony to feel meaningful and deeply connected to their heritage, so if you want to impress them with a proposal, make sure it's magical :D

In a poly marriage, Morgan/a would be more than open, as long as everyone involved feels valued!

Hastur is deeply committed and, in a relationship, would likely propose to you before you even have a chance to think about it 👀

For him, marriage is a sacred vow, a way to signify the depth of his devotion. He’d plan a private, meaningful proposal, just the two of you, where he could express his feelings without interruption.

Yeah... nope. Peisinoe is entirely against the idea of marriage, viewing it as a subjugating institution, especially after witnessing their own parents’ ruinous relationship. For them, if you feel the need to commit your relationship to a formal agreement, your love is not worth it. So, If you ever brought up marriage, they’d probably laugh it off.

What does the He Without Name think of marriage? Who knows. But maybe, deep down, there's a sort of magic in the marriage ceremony. Perhaps it can even awaken something distant, waiting inside of him. But actually putting a ring on a shade might prove a bit difficult.

[ghost-proofbaby]

you've posted (or maybe it wash just in tags) about the knight eddie story youve worked on before and i have not been able to get the idea out of my head

oh, nonnie. oh. (i definitely have. in tags and posts for a few months now haha)

but you know when fics get so big behind the scenes and suddenly you're scared to post it? like, you've got several full chapters written, an entire world and magic system built, and an entirely fleshed out OC, but like... the thought of sharing it with the world is just? scary? yeah. that's where i am.

knight!eddie also doesn't leave my head. i just don't want to post this monster of a fic that honestly reads more like a fantasy novel because i don't know if y'all would like it haha. it's very intense and genuinely doesn't read like just a fic. it reads like a book. it is a book at this point. if y'all really are interested, i could always post snippets and such. it's not a matter of characterization and stuff, but... i just put a lot of work into it and it's my baby lol

[dyke-in-crisis]

my OC Venus serving face in a non-threatening, very cutesy way 🎀

[bmpmp3]

ITS 1 AM you know what that means. listen to my half-mixed wips boy

No More/Mou Yada original by Fummy, ust by zoe/half a head !

[cain-e-brookman]

First Line Tag

I was tagged by @spideronthesun! Thanks again!

Rules: post the first line of your WIP, the first line you worked on today, or any other "first line"!

I'll be tagging @satohqbanana @seastarblue and @sunset-a-story

I'll be posting the very first line that appears in my wip; one that has been the opening line since the very first iteration.

If Uthyr had known the end of the world would make his hydrangeas wilt, he would have been prepared a week ago for what was coming.