#writing from evie's pov this time. not as long as my other drabble but long enough

[sealrock]

send REMINDED for a scene from my muse's past in which they encountered something that reminded them of a difficult experience / trauma

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cw: references to drug and alcohol abuse, implied disordered eating

Cold water splashed against his stubbled face—once, twice, thrice. Water rolled down his bare forearms and onto the cramped vanity, but most ended up splattered against the cracked tile of the dingy bathroom. Finally, he's awake.

Evander slowly dragged his hands down his face to expose bloodshot eyes from another restless night hugging the cold porcelain of the lavatory, void of emotion other than stark ennui. He quickly looked away. The mirror had spiderweb cracks this way and that, the point of origin shaped into a fist. Evander was on a binge one night that he couldn't remember, and he could only surmise that he didn't like what he saw. It took longer than he wanted to delicately clean and wrap the wounds of his knuckles once he came down from the high.

Evander gripped the vanity and allowed his eyes to roam anywhere but his face. The yellow tint of the cheap lights cast his hollow face in a sickly hue, his tan skin taking on an abnormal shade, and made his unkempt black hair more greasy than usual. The severe dips in his collarbone and the bumps of his ribs are more prominent in this unnatural lighting, the shadows growing darker by the day. His trousers were looser fitting if his shrinking waist was anything to go by. He lost weight again. But that's normal to him. Evander admits he doesn't give his body proper nutrients; with a diet of imported cigarettes, illicit drugs, and hard liquor, this lifestyle wreaks havoc on anyone with a feeble constitution such as him.

His blue eyes, a scourge of his genetic makeup, were tinged green with unmistakable envy. Evander pulled his puffy eyelids away to get a closer look: if he could just pluck out his eyeballs and replace them with any other color, everything would've been different. He'd seen it done with taxidermy, replacing the lifeless orbs of a dead animal with bright, glassy eyes without the reflection of sheer terror in the act of being slaughtered. But that's an animal, a base creature with neither the intelligence nor complex language man possesses.

But in some species, animals are constantly reminded of their social status and rank, sometimes harshly with violence—much like Evander had to endure growing up. Blue in Dalmascan society has negative associations that change with each passing century: the poor could only wear blue, blue is seen as bad luck, and it's a color of mourning. Evander doesn't give credence to local superstition or wives' tales, not when science can answer many of the world's mysteries. But his grandfather—and many other oldheads of the family—are profoundly traditional.

They saw Evander as a bad omen from the start. Infidelity is also one of the reasons why they hate him, supernatural causation be damned. Appearance and status kept this family on top for so long in this city. For the daughter of one of Ul'dah's elite, the top of the food chain, to be involved with a lowly street urchin was something to gawk at. To have a child with him, only to try and pass off said child as your husband's, would make you the laughingstock of smoke-filled saloons long after you're dead.

Evander's mind began to wander back as he meticulously shaved the unruly stubble away with his straight razor. His grandfather never lived down the embarrassment of having a bastard grandchild, but to attack a little boy just because he didn't have the eyes of the family was cruel and unusual punishment. Evander could recall the hurtful words the old man would sling at him like knives.

Filthy child.

You're just like your father, a hoodlum.

You brought nothing but shame to this family.

Don't look at me with those foul eyes.

Evander winced when the razor nicked the skin of his neck. He went too deep into his memories and became distracted. He heard someone, a taunting voice inside his mind say:

Such a fool. You're not seventeen anymore, you should know better.

"Get off my back," Evander hoarsely said to no one. He staunched a growing pearl of blood before it could trickle down his neck with a washcloth. He needed a cigarette. Despite what his head doctor would say, this is not healing. To be reminded of everything like this does more harm than good. Evander hates looking into the mirror because the mirror shows him what his grandfather would see: the face of the man who betrayed his trust. The sins of the father will haunt the son, the grandson, and the sons hereafter.

Evander blinked. He had been staring at his reflection for so long his eyes stung from the stale air of his apartment. He finished shaving, this time paying closer attention to the glint of the razor as it glided across the hairs of his neck. Evander is thankful that he didn't need the mirror to see how to do his hair, as it was a simple matter of pulling it into a low ponytail. Now, Evander could start his day. His clothes, neatly pressed and layered, contrasted with the organized chaos of clutter and junk surrounding his tiny living space. He reached into his pocket for his cigarette case. It would be easier if Evander could conjure up a simple flame, but a matchstick is good enough.

He couldn't stomach the idea of breakfast right now, not after last night. There was nothing edible in his pantry either way. Evander took one last look into the broken mirror before heading out. He saw a skeleton of a man dressed in his finest. Evander would never leave the house without his shaded spectacles. It acted like a child's security blanket, for Evander disliked the stares he would get from strangers because of his haggard countenance.

You can't hide from me.

A thinly veiled threat. Evander took a long drag of the cigarette before exhaling. He didn't offer his crooked reflection a response this time. He switched off the light and left for his day job, he had to make up for lost hours if he wanted to eat a hot meal this time around.

[burntsecrets]

Writeblr/Fanfiction/Tumblr Introduction!

Hello, Writeblr & FanFiction community! You may call me Evie or Coven (a nickname my friends gave me that’s from my Gamertag), my pronouns are she/her, and I’m from the United States–Chicago specifically.  I used to write a lot of fanfiction on Fanfiction.net before A03 was a thing. I’ve had an RP blog for Damon Salvatore for 12yrs that has over 19k followers. 

I decided to bring my old Fanfiction from fanfiction.net and my new material to Tumblr. I will have a Patreon/use Post+ for my fanfiction series. While I do love to write, I don’t do this full time, and by using Patreon/Post+, it will not only keep me accountable but will allow me to create more content for you all. 

Aside from writing, I’m in an axe-throwing league, and I enjoy going out and exploring not only my city but the outdoors, whether it be camping or hiking. I also have a few small businesses that I run as well as my full-time job. 

THIS BLOG

I  want to focus on reading and reblogging other people’s work as well as commenting. So if you see me reblog someone’s work, I’ve read it and will leave a nice comment/review on it. 

I may also give you all excerpts/ask for your opinion on my current WIP novel.

I'll also post mood boards for stories, poems, and novels I'm writing

You'll also see writer memes/humor posts as well

WHAT I WRITE

My original stories are mostly paranormal and/or horror, with a splash of romance in some.

Poetry, but I won’t post those on here I’m in the process of making books out of my poems

Fantasy, fanfiction (duh, lol), romance, paranormal, horror, etc. 

First things first, these are the current fandoms and characters I write.

Fandoms

Supernatural

Smallville

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Lucifer (Netflix series) 

Witcher (Netflix series)

Stranger Things

The Vampire Diaries

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

True Blood

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Characters

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Clark Kent

Chloe Sullivan

Lois Lane

Eddie Munson

Steve Harrington

Lucifer Morningstar

Damon Salvatore

Caroline Forbes

Spike (from Buffy)

Zuko

Katara

Bucky/Winter Soldier

The Witcher/White Wolf

TAGGED LIST

If you'd like to be tagged in posts for a specific fandom or character, please fill out this form here, and you'll be alerted when I upload a post that you want to be tagged in.

#MAYHEMFLASHMONDAYS*

Every Monday, I will upload what is called flash fiction. Flash Fiction are short fiction stories only 50-75 words long. Someone will be original, and some will be fandom based. You may send me one-word prompts for #MayhemFlashMondays.

#FANFICTIONFRIDAYS

Third, I upload drabbles such as Imagines,  What It's Like ______, and POV posts every day of the week. But longer stories will be uploaded on what I'm calling #FanFictionFridays. 

#WICKEDWEDNESDAYS

Once a month, the third Wednesday in each month will be what I call #WickedWednesdays, and smutty stories will be uploaded then. Our first one will happen in October, so send me smutty prompts/ideas to my inbox here!  The official tag will be #CovensWickedWednesdays

I’ll be honest, not sure if there’s another writer that has already started #fanfictionfridays or #wickedwednesdays, and if there is, I’m sorry! I couldn’t find anyone doing it when I was researching these ideas. If you know of someone else using those exact tags/ideas, please let me know, and I’ll brainstorm a new tag for those days. 

#SIXSUNDAYS*

On Sundays, I will upload six-word sentences. Each six-word sentence is built to tell a complete story. You may send me one-word prompts for #SixSundays

Please do NOT interact if:

You're a minor

You support MAPs or zoos

You sexualize minors. All of my characters will be 18+. For my ATLA fanfic, those characters have been aged up to the ages of 22-24 since they are older in Korra.

You're a TERF

You're homophobic/transphobic

You're racist or bigoted in any other way

*both Flash Fiction and Six Word Sentences are writing exercises designed to get writers thinking creatively before a writing session.