Current Status
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The Latest Thing I Read:
The Yellow Wallpaper, Charlotte Perkins Gilman
This is my library, where I go to post narratives since I know no other place to do so. And that I don't want to go find out, but I also like this method better, too.
My stories are very in line with Gothic tradition, but it is amateur work for fun as well. Nothing makes me happier than writing for myself and writing based on my favorite genre. Me writing as in saying to people 'I am a writer' started at age 16, but I've been both writing and trained to write since perhaps... 12-13?
My main characters are always troubled men because I love BL stories and want to see the intersection of the genres. There's a lot you can do with men, but I ignore that and let them into female roles and make them crazy people and evil and mean. The genre pairs with queer stories nicely, plus I get to write in my aspiring gender role for once.
I also want to study humanity and make the most realistic versions of characters of fantasy worlds that I can. When my characters are 2D and unimaginable in the real world, then I failed and will write it again.
Note! :
The stories in the library are not finished yet. Seventeen Seconds will likely be the first to arrive, and likely entirely finished since it is so short. Stay tuned!
Seventeen Seconds (18+)
Genre(s): Gothic Drama, Character Study
Themes Include:
A house; It was something dull that belonged to a man who was to be more than life. And a life; something wasted on him.
His mother was one of those great women, the ones who entire communities anchored upon, speaking her praises and living under her maternal gaze. In her youth, she took care of her friends, and her friends carried her higher and higher. Her hometown revered her, cradling her like a teacup across the pavement of life. In her prime, she was the mouthpiece for many a hidden gem, uncovering and bringing them to life. As her neck adorned itself with jewels, so too did those of her friends.
She was such a woman that she had a son in her later years, about her late 30s. The entire town bent to fawn over him, talking and babbling to his unfocused senses. It was like that for quite a while, and his mother held him dearly as she ran the back of her hand down his plush face.
She named him Casper, but the club of girls called him Prim. He was always a pretty child with fluttering eyelashes and a gentle gaze. Every level of remark was made on his name, on his face, even before he could even comprehend them.
Sine Qua Non (18+)
Genre(s): Gothic, Dark Academia, Dark Fantasy
Themes Include:
David did not respond, merely pocketing the book in his robes and bringing his gaze to the murky, flame-tinted shadows. Things that would have been objects by day, but lie forgotten. He looked to his own hands, greyed over and changed in the light. And then he looked to Ives fingers around his wrist. Then to Ives himself. An Ives that would not appreciate whatever rising excitement he felt shivering in his brain.
"I… assume so," David breathed, breaking that gentle connection to reach for his hood. "Pray that you tell no one about this book and leave me to search some more alone?"
"Pray that I could," Ives chuckled, putting out the flame of the lantern at once. "You wound me by not letting me stay…"
"It is for the best. Go home and sleep, and I will be around when you wake. I have more business to attend to, and I need to be alone."
Ives grabbed David by the wrist again, seemingly fumbling out until he grabbed it. He led David back to the iron doorframe, where he could see some part of the light from beyond. "Seems to me the night patrol is already lighting candles for the daybreak?"
"I won't be long, I promise." He took his hand back, smiling in whatever dull light there was to see him in. As an offering, he even handed him the book from his own pocket. "Take this straight home, do not let another see it. Put it somewhere safe, and from there do as you please."
After a moment's hesitation, Ives laughed once more under his breath and took the book. "Hm. fine, then I will see you in the morning. Come home this time, will you?"
"I will," he whispered as Ives disappeared through the threshold and out of the Annex entirely. And then he lingered for just a moment, almost as if he were catching his breath. Opening the door all the way, making sure to lift the handle to avoid the shrill screech it made, he saw no change in the darkness. The darkest shadows always persisted, if not sharpened by the threat of disappearing. He held his hand up once again, watched the yellow outline that threatened to engulf darkness.
He forced his gaze away from himself and the shadows, but still did not move. Lingering, loitering, the two words competed in his head to describe what he had decided to do.
“…I can’t help but practically hand you your fantasies, can I, ” he said as he forced himself to walk ahead. His hands came to his neck, rubbing up and down the sides “Sneaking, reading, all kinds of dreadful things in private…"
He thought back to that book. When he held it under the tainting light, the cover shone so deeply that he felt it in his soul. The only reason it had gotten pulled was that it lay on its side above others and hidden by the natural curve of the bookshelf. He hadn't even meant to pull it.
"I care not for your peers, but your safety more than troubles me, with you following where you were not invited. Do you not like living?"