Original Book - Tumblr Posts
My Sun and Moon Boys <3🌙☀
[Characters are Aiden and Kale, from my book in production, Stargazing. DO NOT SHIP THEM, THEY ARE BROTHERS!!!]
me discussing with myself whether or not i should add elves into my book's fantasy world
"so should there be elves in our book's world?" "i don't know, should there?" "i feel as though they're important, don't you?" "why tho?" "...cold, beautiful beings that have insanely cool archery skills?" "say no more." *immediately creates an elf queen that wears the most elegant and regal clothing ever known to mankind who has been into the worst kind of battles and is left with scars so big that are impossible to cover up so you can see them and she looks like a BOSS*
Hello Cosmic. I have a question! Do your oc have a favorite item, hobby, animal, etc that could be considered obsessive, like do they have an undying love for cats and such?
Hey there! My OCs definitely have interests, skills, and hobbies. Not all are obsessive, but there are a few 😅
John has a locket that contains a photo of him and his deceased wife Evelynn. It’s his treasured possession and he always wears it, tucking it into his shirts.
Blake loves maps and books, and is constantly buying them. He considers it a hobby, John considers it an obsession: “Seriously, who needs that many maps?”
Josep loves to cook and garden, and has quite the green thumb.
Adler is a pro at reading Rune Language, and can translate Runes in a matter of hours. Adler doesn’t think it’s too special, but Josep loves to brag on his husbands behalf.
Nathan has a favorite cloak that his mother gave him for his tenth birthday. It’s red and super warm, and even has pockets on the inside!
Hortensia is obsessed with Dark Magic and the things it can do. She refuses to acknowledge the dangers of using Dark Magic. She only cares about whether or not it can help save someone...
Ebba is obsessed with capturing Nathan, as he is a Mage and it is her job to exterminate any Mages who do not fall in line. She also might have a grudge against him, John, and Blake because they made a fool out of her. Either way, she’s trouble.
Bella has paintings that were created by her husband, Robert, who was a Seer. Sometimes he’d have terrible visions, and he’d paint as a way to calm himself down. He’d been captured by Royalists years ago, but Bella still has all of his paintings.
Mari has an old postcard from Lorport. She’d found it being used as a bookmark in a book she’d saved. She’d never been to Lorport, but she hopes she’ll be able to go someday…
I have but a 2 questions for you to answer, the oc is of your choice:
1. Any signature items? A weapon, piece of jewelry or clothing that they use or wear on the regular
2. Any inspiration behind the character, doesn't matter how mundane it is, if you made the character because you really liked this one thing then heck yeah 👍✨
Eek! I love questions about my OCs 😆
The OC I’ll choose to use for these answers is Hanya- a half-human half-shapeshifter. Shifters are seen by most as nothing but animals, and half-shifters are hated just as much. Most shifters have been captured and made into nothing more than messenger birds who know almost nothing of life beyond their cages. Hanya, however, has seen the outside world, and has even made friends with humans. One in particular, Ekward, who is the Queens personal guard and apart of the Rebellion. He shows her kindness and friendship, and the two fall just a little bit in love.
Hanya has a small golden hairpin that she always wears. It’s from Ekward, and is one of the only gifts she’s ever received. She cherishes it and does her best to keep it in good condition. If it were to ever break or get lost, Hanya would probably break down a little. After all, that pin didn’t just represent a gift; It represented future freedom and happiness.
I really like the idea of shapeshifters, and while working to create a shifter character I made Hanya! I imagine she’s very level headed and is the only thing keeping Ekward from going insane while he pretends to be on the Queens side. She balances Ekward’s cold, unapproachable personality with her warm welcoming one. Ekward is in a dangerous situation, sending whatever information he find out about the Queen to the Rebellion, but Hanya helps him keep himself together.
Some sketches of my character John that I did. I love how his design has developed over time. I think he looks much better than when I first drew him.
Fallen Magic Chapter One: Nathan accidentally destroys all of John and Blake’s shit.
While being chased from his home by Royalists, Nathan runs (literally) into John and Blake, two mysterious men who were camping out in the forest. All three make a run for it from the Royalists, and in an effort to escape, jump off of a cliff into a lake. They succeed in getting away, but in the process, all of John and Blake’s supplies are destroyed by the water. Now they’re in the middle of the forest with no supplies, Royalists hunting them down, and no clue where to go.
Now what.
Just got 4 of my wisdom teeth cut out… My head feels like a balloon that someone beat the shit out of 💀
The Since I’m just relaxing for the next few days expect plenty of new sketches. Here’s a couple I have already:
I used a reference from @kibbitzer for these! My character, Adler, without his prosthetic leg :)
If anyone here’s been interested in seeing more of my writing and original characters (along with more context lmao), you can check out my other blog Doomed Author! :)
@doomed-auth
Check it out and share your thoughts! Constructive criticism is appreciated, and I love hearing from you guys!
so i'm a writer. for the past three years, i've been writing a book series about this group of friends that live in the world of hollywood, with the first book being a rivals to lovers, fake dating storyline between two of the most popular young pop acts of their time. i'm so nervous to be more vocal about my book but my main end goal is to get this book adapted so i'm making a larger deal about it. for now, i wanna introduce the two main characters!
alexus johnson. she/her. 22. bi. black. singer-songwriter. six-time grammy winner.
fc: savannah smith
river addison. he/him. 21. queer. brown latino. singer-songwriter. three-time grammy winner.
fc: xolo mariduena
more details about the characters are featured on my instagram (acc name: angelflms_) and the first nine chapters of the rough draft are up on wattpad (acc name: angelflms). moodboards of them are under my "infuriating man and his viper" board on pinterest (acc name: angelflms_)
i will be posting random things and memes about river and alexus and excerpts about them from time to time so be on the lookout!
i brought up before that i'm writing a book and am hugely insecure about it. now i've always been told i'm a good writer. i believe i'm a good writer as well. but right now i have a fear that genuinely could be solved but it's something in the back of my mind. i wanna talk about it on here because perhaps someone in the aether is struggling with the same thing (plus perhaps i can find someone who can help me too).
my mmc, river is a latino man, specifically mexican. he's not insanely connected with his family for reasons brought up in the book (can't say too much for spoiler purposes), but he does speak spanish and he does keep in touch with his culture as much as he genuinely can. now, i'm a black woman. despite apparently having dominican blood in me, i'm not a latina woman. i wasn't raised as such and was raised african-american. but, i don't wanna butcher this up at all. i'm currently learning spanish but just like with how i feel with non-black people (particularly white people) and writing their black characters with aave and butchering it, i don't wanna do the same with spanish and particular dialects that come with it.
river isn't the only latino character in my book either (there are four other characters) nor the only spanish-speaking character (five other characters). i genuinely love these characters and wanna do them as much justice as i do with my black and african-american characters. i'm hoping to find some latino sensitivity readers (currently mexican latino sensitivity readers for the first book) once i'm done with my first draft! but i also will be posting excerpts of my story here and if y'all have any critiques please let a girl know!!!
Okay, as I said before, I'm a writer. My first nine chapters of my book are up on Wattpad and I'm genuinely excited to share the whole thing with you eventually!!! But to hold you over, here is some banter between my characters River Addison and Alexus Johnson that I hope y'all would like:
“You think I’m cute? Why darling, I’m flattered."
"Not your darling, Addison, and trust me, you’re not even cute enough for a pity fuck."
“I don’t want to date her. She's awful!”
"Babe, you ain't too much of a peach yourself!"
"Did someone rail you into oblivion before coming here then, because that bed head looks rough."
"No, though I'm so glad that me having sex is the thing on your mind."
“Wow. For a devil woman, you have a nice place.”
“Thanks,”
"I don’t need any surprises. You could be a serial killer."
“You've known me for years. I'm not a serial killer.”
“Yeah, cause serial killers would admit that they are serial killers.”
river and alexus core (they just got done arguing the hell outta each other - also river's the orange cat)
ayeee take my motherfluffin book
maybe I'll publish it one day aiming for 42 chapters
Chapter one: Shattered Hope
Snow drifted slowly to the ground, coating the trees in white powder. Crunching filled the air as a fox came into view. However, she doesn't look like a typical feral fox. An anthropomorphic looking animal, she rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, blood smearing. A bluish-white fox tagged along behind her, a small branch clasped in her paws.”Luna, you want a snack?” The white fox queried. Luna, the blueish fox, nodded. “Thanks, Mom.” Luna cast a thankful glance, taking the offered piece of jerky.
“Kitsune!”
A voice rang out through the still air, reaching the duo quickly. A navy blue skunk, also anthropomorphic like the two, bounded up to them. His sage green gaze filled with love. “Amor!” He lifted Kitsune into his arms, his lips connecting with her cheek. He yanked Luna into a tight, loving hug, purring. “Hey, kiddo!” He smiled. “Dad!” Luna mrrfed indignantly. Kitsune nuzzled into the skunk's short neck scruff. “Sammy…” Kitsune purred lovingly. “We finished the patrol, Oliver got into a fight with Mom again.” Luna huffed, anger boiling under her pelt. Sammy narrowed his eyes into the distance. “Alright, let's head home. It's getting late.” He began. Seeing their tired faces, he tried lightening the mood. “I made spaghetti!” He attempts to lighten the air. Kitsune purrs, seemingly content with being held close to her lover. Luna was uninterested, rubbing a cut above her eyebrow. Sammy led the way back to the house. Two other anthropomorphic animals were sitting on the couch, and both simultaneously turned their heads to look at the trio. Kitsune steps down from Sammy's arms and walks over to the two children. “Hey, Evelyn, Nebula.”
Kitsune murmurs, brushing her muzzle against the two's foreheads. Evelyn, the white skunk-fox hybrid, met her mothers nose with her own. Nebula, the baby blue skafunx purred and grabbed Kitsune's snout. Kitsune heard a sharp, joyful knock. She approached the door, twisting and pulling the door handle. “Jeremy! Felix! …Jinx?” Kitsune listed the three people in front of her. “Jinx? What are you doing here? I mean, I know Jeremy and Felix are here to drop off mail, but you?” Kitsune muttered. Jinx rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “So, uh… My king, Emperor Scarab, he… came to help. Your kingdom.” Jinx blurted out. Jeremy and Felix edge away, running to the camp. “Does he want me there? Did I aggravate him?” Kitsune scratches behind her ear, worried. Jinx grabbed her hand. “You didn't aggravate him, but they do want you there. Right now, they're passing time with tea and gossip.” Jinx quickly grabbed her hand and ran to the castle. Kitsune let go of his hand and quickly overtook him in speed. Jinx used his staff to vault over the river, Kitsune taking the bridge. They pushed open the doors to the throne room, Kitsune slammed her foot down in the room first. “I WIN!” The two royals, Queen Catherine and King Scarab glance over. “Your majesties! I- uh, we were just-” Kitsune sputtered. Jinx patted her back. “We've arrived!” He flourished. A dark presence stepped out from the shadows, grabbing them both by the shoulders. Kitsune froze, a horrid shiver running down her spine. Jinx quickly whipped around, swinging his staff towards the intruder with threatening ferocity. The intruder, a gray wolf with piercing yellow eyes, caught the staff.
“Try to hit me with that staff again, I'll shove it down your throat.” The wolf spat. “Oliver.” Jinx hissed. “Jinx. Kitsune.” Oliver's voice lowered as he said the foxes name. Kitsune made her way over to the queen, her tail bushed. “Queen Veneno.” Kitsune bows to the Bluebell Kingdom queen. Queen Veneno scoffed. Kitsune begins to open her jaws, fury in her eyes. Jinx reacts fast and snaps her jaws shut. “Haha, sorry Queen Veneno! She's just a little crabby today, not her fault.” Jinx quickly drags Kitsune behind a pillar. The royals look over with interested faces. “Are they going to kiss?” Queen Veneno ponders. King Scarab raises an eyebrow at the two. “I mean, Jinx has always been a bit touchy, not in a bad way, with Kitsune. Queen Catherine chuckles, not letting either of them know Kitsune is married.
“What was that?!” Jinx whisper-yells. He clenched her shoulders. “You know Oliver would kill you in a heartbeat!” Kitsune thrashes her tail, aggravation leaking through. “She scoffed at me!” She hissed back. “Oh, would I now?” Oliver loomed over Jinx. Jinx yelped, instinctively swinging his staff and smacking Oliver in the face. Oliver snarled in pain and fury, lashing out and slashing Jinx across the face. “Ow, you motherfucker!” Jinx clutched his face. Swiftly, Oliver grabbed Jinx's staff and raised it above his throat. “Oliver, no!” Kitsune shrieked. As the staff came down, Kitsune slammed into him, causing him to get knocked over. They squabble for a few minutes, before Oliver slammed her against the pillar, looming over her. Kitsune’s face flashed red. “No, no, no!” Kitsune struggled, hyperventilating. Oliver raised his claws, but got quickly intercepted by Jinx. “BACK OFF, BITCH!” He snarled. “WHAT IS ALL THE SHOUTING?!” King Scarab roared. Kitsune, Oliver, and Jinx all flinch consecutively. The tall king stormed his way over to the pillar. Oliver took the moment to quickly slam Kitsune's head against the marble floor. “NO!” Jinx screamed. King Scarab grabbed Oliver by the scruff, pushing his muzzle against the floor. “QUEEN VENENO, LEAVE THE SAGE KINGDOM NOW!” He shouted.
“Why should I?!” Queen Veneno shouted back. “YOUR GENERAL JUST ATTACKED OURS!” King Scarab shouted. Queen Veneno scoffed and grabbed Oliver. “I never wanted to stop this war anyways!” Queen Veneno shouted. She stormed out. Jinx clutched Kitsune close, blood from his cheek dripping onto her chest. “No, no, no, no, no!” Jinx shouted. Queen Catherine rushed over, kneeling next to Kitsune. “Oh my goodness, she's bleeding…” She whispered, mortified. Jinx laid Kitsune against the pillar and pulled out a satchel. “Is Kitsune allergic to desert daisies?” Queen Catherine shook her head. Jinx quickly took out a bundle of the flower and shoved it into Kitsune's mouth. After a couple minutes, Kitsune spat the flowers out, coughing. “W-what… what the f-fuck was that?” Kitsune murmured. Jinx pulled her into a tight hug, sobbing. “Great Bane, Kitsune I thought you died!” Jinx whispered. King Scarab glanced at the duo with a raised eyebrow. “Are you sure they aren't at least, you know?” King Scarab motioned. Queen Catherine chuckled. “You'll find out.” King Scarab nudged Jinx forwards. “Are… you two going to kiss?” King Scarab asked. Jinx slowly turned around with a pale face and monotone expression. “You want us to do what?” King Scarab looked away. “Do you not like Kitsune in that way?”
“Apologies for my language, BUT FUCK NO!” Jinx shouted. He yanked Kitsune close to his chest. “We are merely platonic!” Kitsune's face turns redder. “Kitsune's face isn't exactly proving your point.” Jinx quickly shoved Kitsune away. Kitsune clung to his skinny frame. Jinx blushed a dark red. “Give us a moment, your majesties.” He chuckled sheepishly. King Scarab watched them move out of the room. “I'm gonna say it.” Queen Catherine looked over. “Don't you fucking dare.”
“Wear protection!” King Scarab shouted. “YOUR MAJESTY!” Jinx shouted. “FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING- AGH!” Jinx clutches his curly lavender hair. Kitsune rubs the back of her head. “I-Is this blood?” Jinx slides over. “Unfortunately, yes. But! The bleeding isn't horrible, and I have a first aid kit!” Kitsune sighed and hunched forward. “Don't do that, you'll screw your posture.” Jinx murmurs, pressing a bandage to the back of her head. Jinx slides his hands to her cheeks in a motherly way. “Hey, don't worry, just be careful around him. Ok?”
“Ok.”
"A very bright person she seemed"
The Art of Death †
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ꕤ ─ Rated (?) : Will add soon. Proceed with caution! (it is a little vulgar)
ꕤ ─ Synopsis : Walter Collier, a feared and powerful man who once ruled New York’s underworld with an iron fist. Diagnosed with terminal lung cancer at 27, he finds himself unexpectedly captivated by a mysterious artist, Miss Reed. As Walter’s life unravels, his obsession with her art—and the woman behind it—leads him to confront his own mortality in a city he once thought he owned.
ꕤ ─ Author's Note : Hello everybody! This is quite literally my first post. I'm posting here to make sure I'm on top of my writing schedule but sometimes I may not be able to post haha. I'm just trying to improve my writing, I hope you can offer constructive criticism. I really hope you like it, its something I whipped up in less than an hour. Lots of love, Dove ❦︎
ꕤ ─ 1.39k words
first >> second (coming soon<3)
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Walter Collier was no ordinary man. He was a man shrouded in mystery, tainted by the worst sins committed by mankind. He was a man capable of any feat, a feared man. A man who took over New York in the forties just with a few calculated moves. A man said to be able to move mountains with a singular snap of his fingers, Walter Collier was no ordinary man. But by every definition he was no more unique than you. At age 18 he’d taken over most underground bootlegging operations of the big apple. He keeps reminding himself of these facts when now, at age 27, he lay on his doctor’s bed. Dying. Walter Collier was no ordinary man but by god he had an ordinary condition. Lung cancer.
“Well Walt, those Cuban cigars do that to ya,” his doctor, AJ, spat out. His thick accent barely makes sense in Walter’s ears. He hates it. He hates that he can’t hear through AJ’s accent well enough to figure out exactly what kinds of drugs to shoot himself up with,
“...stage three.”
“My cancer’s stage three?”
“I’m afraid that you could consider it a stage 3.75, Walt.”
Well fuck.
Walter walks home. He likes that about this city. You walk long enough, you reach your destination soon enough. He’s not made for cars. He's not a tall man but he makes up for it with his gait. He walks like he owns the city, and in a way he does. It is his city. Every piece of New York runs on his money, he’s sure the only reason the economy has not collapsed is because of him. New York is him. Through and through. A born and bred New Yorker loves this city more than a mother loves their child.
And as every born and bred New Yorker’s first museum, he finds himself at the Met. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Now, Walter would never admit this out loud. But, He’d always fancy himself some art. No self respecting criminal would ever work with Walter again if he had revealed that he goes through his art collection time and time again. Each stroke brings a deep sense of satisfaction to him, he’d tried once, painting. But all that came out of that was a messy, muddy mess. He hates anything less than perfection.
Understandably, he’d torched it. No one was to see it.
Most of his men, or as he likes to call them, his friends, thought the only reason Walter collected art was to look bougie. Impress the ladies. It was the fifties after all. Every woman fancied a man with a penthouse filled up with art people can barely understand. Walter was kind enough to let them think that – to think that he’d only spend this absorbent amount of money to get in a few socialite’s panties and leave. But no, he liked it. He liked art.
He makes his way on over to a self portrait. A small one in fact, barely known. Water color. He’d always loved water color. It was one form of art he could not mess up even if he had wanted to. The painting was ordinary if anything. A man speculated to be biracial holding up his painting tools. Nothing out of the ordinary. But when he saw it for the first time, It was like hearing the most beautiful melody for the first time. He keeps going back to that singular painting just to recreate the same feeling he had had when he first laid his gun-metal blue eyes on it.
He saunters on over, his hands in his suit pocket, his head down. Thumbing a pocket watch over and over until the polish faded. He looks up and… it's a woman.
Thick brownish red hair tied up in a french knot. Freckles all over her back, he wonders how far down they travel, how many of them he can count until he loses track. Skin spotless and undeniably clean. Her back turned to him, all he can see are her white kitten heels and the black dress she’s wearing. Off shouldered with little pearls lining her neck. He can see the pull of her earring backing. Ah. She is one of those. Snobby little rich girls with no sense of taste, he can see her now, sneering at the canvas—
She turns around and the only thing he can think of, the only thing he can feel is the beautiful melody rocking his body. Or cancer. The first thing he notes about her is how… soft she looks. They aren't cut from the same cloth, that's for sure. The back of her right hand riddled with charcoal, he knows what that means. She’s an artist too. Her eyes gloss over him completely and before he’s done memorizing her face and she leaves.
He can’t stop looking. At her, she walks prettily, looks prettily and in a moment of absolute stupidity, he follows her.
He watches her watch, she's far better than any painting, any sculpture, hell any photograph he had ever seen before. He’s sure he’s seen prettier women, women with more bust, more to offer. But she… she has the most wonderful brown eyes begging to see through every one of his secrets.
He knows it's late… nearing almost three hours since Walter Collier stepped into the Met and stopped to watch her. But he can’t stop. She stops, he stops. Her eyes rake over a painting and his rake over the curve of her lips. Plump and beige, the pink of her lipstick bitten off in silent contemplation. He can’t help it. He’s observant.
Most everyone is gone and she’s still walking. She makes a turn and so does he. He looks straight and there she is, impossibly close to him.
“Can I help you,” she asks.
“Help me?”
“Help you,” she confirms.
He smiles and she looks almost offended if not for the slight twitch on the corner of her lips
“I don't think so,” he responds almost happily.
“Why are you following me?”
“Am I?”
“Yes, you are.”
A beat passes then two.
“What’s your name?”
A laugh– no, a bark resembling a laugh tumbles out of her mouth.
“You want my name?”
She looks undeniably pretty. Her cheeks are rosy, bangs sticking to her forehead. Eyes wide and brows furrowed, her chin turned upward. Looking at him like he was scum. He couldn’t stop staring at her.
“Yes,” he replies, almost breathless.
She’s thinking about it. Her eyes are like a window into her mind. Her face voices out what she can’t.
“Miss Reed.”
“Your full name, Miss Reed?”
“Absolutely not.”
Walter smiles. He looks back at her hands. Her nails look well done, she’s holding a purse and he’s been around enough socialites to know that that brand costs a pretty penny. She hasn’t got an engagement ring on her. The back of her hand is still smudged with charcoal.
“You’re an artist, aren't you Miss Reed?”
Her face relaxes and his brows furrow. He’s a strange man making observations of her, she should be alarmed.
“You’re a fan,” she beams.
“I’m afraid not.”
Miss Reed’s face is back to being confused.
“If you aren’t familiar with my works then how do you know me?”
“I do not.”
“You just said I was an artist, how do you know that?”
“I was asking.”
“Tell me mister, do you go around asking every lady in the Met if she is an artist or is it just me?”
“Charcoal”
“...What?” “There’s charcoal on the back of your right hand… I just assumed you were one.”
She looks at Walter as if he’d sprouted another head and started singing in French.
“Still that is no reason to follow a lady around.”
“No it isn’t.” “Then why did you?” “I think you’re pretty.”
“You–” She stops herself. Walter looks pleased with himself. He’d always been a bit of a ladies’ man–
“No.”
…No?
“No…?”
“No,” she confirms. “I haven't even asked you anything yet.”
“You don’t have to. Now I bid you adieu mister…?”
“Walter. Walter Collier.”
She nods and leaves. And he can't help but watch her. She walks like a swan, her walk as graceful as a leaf in the wind. If not more.
Goodbye<3
★this is Luce, she is an orca siren, one of the protagonists of my project "lacrime di mare" or "tears of the sea" the original concept art was about y/n which will probably be used for a spin-off series or simply silly drawings, I honestly don't know yet if it will be a comic or a fanfiction, maybe it could be like an illustrated book.
(I'm not sure about the title yet so it could change)
★lei è Luce, è una sirena orca, una delle protagoniste dei miei progetto "lacrime di mare" o "tears of the sea", il concept art originale riguardava t/n che probabilmente verrà utilizzato per una serie spin-off o semplicemente disegnini, sinceramente non so ancora se sarà un fumetto o una fanfiction,magari potrebbe essere come un libro illustrato.
(Non sono ancora sicuro del titolo quindi potrebbe cambiare)
Biggest group of drawings I've done at once!
Fang Dragniel is the Dragon Prince of his kingdom. However, due to a powerful spell cast upon his people that kept them in slumber, he was forced to travel Eirtha as a mercenary. In hopes of finding a cure to the curse . . .
For his personality I want you to imagine Bakugo but with a softer voice and better comebacks.