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a writer, perchance

@space-writes / space-writes.tumblr.com

a.l. thorne, they/them, writer of queer fantasy and erotica, both fanfic and original-flavour. follows from @thespacelizard. tag & ask game friendly! this blog mostly runs on a queue. (banner art by @rukafais)
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hello (again) writeblr! i decided to make a new intro that has all my current wips on it, since i have way more than when i first started out on here.

about me

  • I go by space, my pronouns are they/them, and I’m in my third decade of existence, which is absolutely wild. I’ve been writing for most of it, so I like to think I’m pretty decent
  • I write mostly fantasy and erotica (sometimes at the same time), both original and fanfiction, and all of it's queer
  • You can find my work on my AO3 here, crossposted to my neocities here, and under my snippets tag
  • I’m open to tag and ask games, and my inbox is currently open to anything as well. I don’t always reply the fastest, but I’ll get to it eventually! (I don’t take part in chain asks, so please don’t send me them)
  • I use obsidian.md for all my writing, and it’s my favourite notes app ever, so I also talk about that occasionally. The tag for it is here.
  • my main goal is to actually finish some damn books and also to inflict my OC brainrot upon people. so far the second one is the only thing that’s actually happened, but i live in hope
  • My current wips are Chronicles of Valloroth (Crowned Prince being book one), Obedience, Obsession, and claws—summaries and links for all four are under the cut!
  • this is my writing sideblog, you can find my main @thespacelizard, and i follow/like from there
  • tag directory is here
#writeblr#writeblr intro#writeblr introduction#writeblr reintro#writing community#writing#writers on tumblr#writers#i did it i remade the intro!#everyone cheer and clap for me#anyway hello to all the people who've joined me here since i started!#thanks for listening to me incessantly post about my blorbos
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voiceless - febuwhump day 1 'vocal chords'

Valloroth | G | Sorrow & Aspiration | 883 Words

Tags: pre-Valloroth, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Speech, Fantasy Sign Language, Frustration, Backstory

Summary:

A scene from early in Sorrow and Aspiration’s relationship, set in the time after she found him post-shattering and was helping him to recover.

Read On: AO3 / Neocities / Dreamwidth

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She’d taken to calling him Fortune. Only in her own head, though—out loud and to everyone else, he was t’hiat. The guest. But she couldn’t help but think him fortunate; what else was it to survive the shattering of both his horns?

Aspiration ducked into the healer’s tent, a wooden tray of food in her hands. Shellfiend soup and roasted grubs; sliced purple yams and small yellow plums; ashnuts and smoked fish and her grandmother’s best flatbread. “Won’t get well if he doesn’t eat,” the old woman told her, piling plates and bowls high. “You see to it he eats.” And so she had, for all the good it did. Most days she came back with the tray untouched.

He was dozing at present, or something like it. Sprawled on the sleeping mat, a pile of blankets half-on, half-off his tall, emaciated form. The healer said his temperature wouldn’t settle, dragging him wildly between chills and fever, and nothing so far could steady it. Intuition was doing what she could, she and her apprentice both, but they’d never dealt with a shattered infernii before. All the stories said victims of such assault rarely survived, and if they did, they were forever altered—and such altering often stole their lives in the end.

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having collaborative ocs with friends will have you saying shit like "what if scimble was bumpus wouldnt that be funny" and then like two weeks later its one of the most important pieces of lore you have

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find the word

tagged by @artdecosupernova-writing, thank you! my words are proud, union, queen, ratio, train. it's been a Hot Minute since i did a) a tag game and b) posted about claws, so let's do both todayyy

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proud

They could have done this at Rainier’s place, this first bloodletting, but Rainier wanted them to have the shut-offs. The training wheels. The room coated in protective geometry, just in case Arachnis—for who else is worth calling?—gets wise to Vivien as a proxy. She’s a proud thing. She won’t like the idea of a human creating something to usurp her.

union → blend

She turns red, a delightful blend of anger and embarrassment. Wolfe puts a hand on hers—the one with his missing fingers, and that’s the one and only credit Rainier will give her; that she’s never flinched away from what Wolfe lacks. Rainier he kicks in the shin under the table, since that old reliable communiqué never fails to express without words Wolfe’s deep, deep desire for him to shut the fuck up.

queen

“Free bruises? You are feeling generous tonight,” Rainier says. Alice stretches up and pecks his cheek and Vivien doesn’t throw his drink in her face because he wants to have a nice fucking night. “It’s my second birthday,” she says. “And I gave myself a bottomless bar. As a treat.” Drunk bitch. She’s got up like one of the drag queens; a corrupted Alice in lingerie and heels, make-up thick, hair in babydoll-slut pigtails. One arm is around Rainier’s waist and for some reason he’s not moving it.

ratio

“Given the other fifty percent is Mortem Brand Bullshit, that’s a decent ratio.”

train

“I can’t,” Vivien says, and Rainier doesn’t know if he’s talking about the train-assisted suicide or not. “I’m sorry. I…I have to go.”

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#writeblr#tag games#find the word#find the word tag#original fiction#snippets#wip#tags and taglist under the cut#wip: claws#c: vivien webb#c: rainier mortem#c: alice webb#oh vivien you misogynist piece of shit <3#i miss my fucked up boys#but alas i am le tired and my brain is an potato rn TT_TT
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God I have been struggling so much to explain my irritation with a certain trend I keep running across in LGBTQ+ "cozy fantasy books"

Because everytime I try to verbalize it, it just comes out as sounding like I'm trying to say there's like. An upper limit on how daydreamy an author can be about worlds in which their every fantasy is fulfilled (entire farming village based on mutual aid; where also everyone is queer and/or gender-conforming! And there is little to no conflict! And everyone knows therapy speak and is unfailingly kind and generous and good!)

Because like--there's not, really, an upper limit on these things.

But there is an invisible line of tolerance for me where it turns from "cozy fantasy" to "oh my god grow the fuck up; this is so saccharine it's become one-note and boring and dull that I can't actually ENJOY the low-stakes cozy vibes"

But it sounds like I'm complaining about "there's too many gender queers and not enough homophobia in this book" and it's Not That

Ugh idk take your 2 stars and let me delete this book off my Kobo, I finished it and that's honestly more than I think it deserved.

(a 4.07 average star rating are you FUCKING kidding me)

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The problem you're trying to pinpoint is TENSION ISSUES, and cozy fantasy is fuckin RIFE with them. Major chronic problem with the genre, and editors just keep letting authors get away with it instead of developing the story.

Low stakes are fine, utopian settings are fine, even low-conflict is fine -- but you gotta have a source of tension SOMEWHERE, or it pisses people off. If everyone's cooperating together and an amazing team and there's no interpersonal drama, ok great, but hit them with a tornado or a famine or heavy rains that wash out the fields right after planting.

The following have been called the "7 types of conflict" but people always think conflict means fighting or angry feelings, so i do think that "7 types of tension" might be a better wording:

  1. Person vs Person (this is the one that cozy fantasy is most allergic to, and that's ok!)
  2. Person vs Society (cozy fantasy also allergic to this one, we're still fine!)
  3. Person vs Self (inexplicably underutilized, it rules, highly recommend)
  4. Person vs Supernatural
  5. Person vs Fate
  6. Person vs Technology
  7. Person vs Nature

And here is a list of free cozy fantasy tension points for each one of those. Feel free to steal these, adapt them, tweak them, etc -- as long as you promise to commit to the bit and actually make your protagonist face their problems head-on and have feelings about them and actually DO SOME HARD WORK to resolve them instead of conveniently handwaving it all away. (Your protagonist's name is Blue.)

  1. Person vs Person: Blue's neighbor has a longstanding grudge and is trying to get Blue's bakery shut down by any means necessary, including reporting Blue to the health inspectors, who threaten to shut the whole operation down. (If you are writing for adults, then the grudge is bad enough that it CANNOT be solved with the power of friendship or by offering said neighbor free daily croissants. C'mon, don't wimp out. Imagine the Worst coworker you've ever had. Imagine the pettiest HOA lady ever.)
  2. Person vs Society: There is a war in the neighboring kingdom which has impacted the chocolate chip import market. Blue's bakery is struggling financially, and the bank is making ominous noises about Blue's fantasy student loans.
  3. Person vs Self: Blue is having a crisis of faith. They inherited the bakery and they hate running it, but they feel an obligation to their beloved dead relative. They don't know how to balance this against their own dreams, and they feel a ton of guilt about it.
  4. Person vs Supernatural. Blue boasted that they're a better baker than the local hearth goddess. Blue now has a curse that fucks up every loaf, danish, cookie, and sticky-bun they touch. They can't even go into other people's bakeries without jinxing them.
  5. Person vs Fate: Several generations ago, a fortune-teller spoke a prophecy that says the bakery will fail if someone matching Blue's description takes over. Blue doesn't give a shit about that, Blue is determined to make it work, Blue spits in the face of Fate.
  6. Person vs Technology. A new bakery opens just a block away from Blue's, with newfangled magical ovens and staffed entirely by magic robots. Can Blue compete against this? We explore the upsides and downsides between artisanship and mass manufacturing.
  7. Person vs Nature. A really bad winter strangles the town, trapping people in their homes. Blue doggedly wades through waist-deep snow on their daily bread deliveries to the old folks of the town, but they slip on ice and twist their ankle really bad.

(Anyway read my book Yield Under Great Persuasion, which is an M/M cozy romantasy with lots of different tension points -- we've got a lil bit of #1 and #2, a WHOLE LOT of #3, and a smidge of #4 and #5)

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Six Sentences

I was tagged by @abitscripturient and @ace-malarky to share six sentences.

"She's not here."

"What do you mean, she's not here?" Hermia asked, making sure her ears were working. Where else would Helena be? She was a homebody by nature, preferring to sit and weave or even read. It was one thing Hermia's mother brought up constantly, wishing her energetic daughter would just sit in place like Helena. "Did she go out?"

I'll tag, with no pressure, @oh-no-another-idea, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @memento-morri-writes, @bloodmoodtrash, @space-writes, and @willtheweaver.
#other wips#ty for the tag!#💜💜💜
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✍🏼 WIP acrostic tag (JUSTICE)

Thanks to @writingamongther0ses for the tag!

📝 Share a sentence from your WIP that starts with each letter in the word given to you by the person who tagged you

These are from Miles From Morning...

Just stop talking.

Unimportant, replaceable, but useful enough to keep alive.

She pushes the door open with an elbow, blood on her gloved hands, and looks me up and down.

The tangled layers of streets and buildings that looked confusing in the dark are fascinating now, appealing in a way that makes me want to explore even though I’m still bone-deep exhausted.

I ate on the first day but it tasted like shit-flavoured cardboard so I didn’t eat after that.

Can’t guarantee I’m going to be entertaining though and you probably deserve better.

Every bone shatters on impact.

Tagging @sakugraphia, @savvyminnow, @sergeantnarwhalwrites and @sodaliteskull if you'd like to do it, with an open tag for anyone else who wants to join in.

The word for your WIP acrostic is FLATS 💜

Reblogs, replies etc on my tag posts are always welcome, but if you're doing this tag yourself, please make your own post instead of using mine to start a reblog chain.

Want more of my writing than I post on Tumblr, with all my stories, blog posts, updates, and audio readings? Head on over to my Patreon! There's a totally free membership option and I'd love to welcome you to my cosy little queer fiction community 💞

#other wips#💜💜💜
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Chapter Fifteen

In which there are Fun Drinks

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Rizeth sat with his chin in his hand, watching Ashenivir clear away the dinner things. He needed to get up and ready himself for their outing—they were expected at Trollskull Manor for some sort of pre-wedding celebration this evening—but he couldn’t bring himself to move. It wasn’t as if it would take him long to change clothes and run a comb through his hair, and this brief domestic vignette was all the peace he was likely to get tonight. The combination of Ashenivir, his House friends, and alcohol was not one conducive to a particularly serene evening.

Ordinarily it wasn’t the sort of event he’d have any interest in attending. But Ashenivir had asked—while on his knees in perfect position, having gone there the moment he returned from his studies, and the level to which that small act filled Rizeth’s heart could not be understated—and so he was going. Goddess help him.

“Other way up, Ra’soltha,” he remarked, as Ashenivir began putting the mugs away upside down, then swallowed a grimace. The argument that had spawned the last time he’d said that…the look of hurt on Ashenivir’s face was burned into his memory.

Ashenivir glanced over his shoulder, then continued to do exactly as he’d been doing, but with more exaggerated movements, setting the mugs down so they clicked audibly against the shelf. Even with his head turned away, Rizeth could see the edge of the smile he was biting his lip over.

“Ra’soltha,” he said, harder, and this time no guilt compelled him to an apology. There was only the snapping into place of a thread of power as familiar as his own Weave and twice as potent.

Keep Reading - AO3 / Dreamwidth / Neocities

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Obedience taglist: @foxboyclit @belovedviolence @thegreatobsesso

@notwritinganyflufftoday @exeiguess @firesidefantasy

@reneesbooks (ask to be +/-)

#fanfiction#dungeons and dragons fanfiction#dnd fanfiction#dnd fic#drow fic#m/m#m/m fanfic#m/m fic#d/s fic#oc fanfiction#romance writing#fanfiction update#obedience fic blogging#id in alt text#my writing#sometimes you just gotta write a hot chapter of boys doing hot things and that's the way it is#anyway behold: drunk!rizeth
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Quintus torment tag

This is an old tag from my dear @reneesbooks -- thank you!!! It's only been an outrageous amount of time since you tagged me, but look, I'm alive, despite my egregious writer's block and exhaustion :D Taking this time to work on some editing and also fill my tank up with lots of reading!

🧭Guidelines: post a torment of your blorbo and everyone cackle in glee all together! Then pass the tag to a few friends ;)

Quintus wakes up crying. Around him, their makeshift camp is still, the embers of the fire still smoldering beneath a blanket of ash. The sky is lightening at the horizon, but the remainder of the world is dark, empty of birdsong, of any signs of life. Quintus has one foot still in the dream, floundering. He glances around hurriedly, spotting Miriam curled up in a ball to his left, and then the lump that is Nikolaos’s body, on the right. Everything is fine, he tries to tell himself, lying back down, though the effort that takes is monumental. The night is still, quiet. He doesn’t know how many minutes pass. Each inhale is agonizing. Finally, he throws back his blankets, barely feeling the cold, and crawls across the packed dirt. Nikolaos is on his stomach, facedown, buried in blankets. Just like – just like – Quintus grabs at him, choking a little as he tries to tip Nikolaos’s bulky body over. He’s made heavier still with sleep, and the task isn’t easy, but Quintus is animated by something unholy and works frantically nonetheless. Nikolaos stirs, smacking halfheartedly at him. Quintus can’t believe it, can’t be sure it’s real, so he fusses, trying to get a hand on Nikolaos’s neck, to feel for his pulse – “What the devil is wrong with you?” Nikolaos hisses, propping himself up on one arm, glaring with one eye squinted open. Quintus finds the right spot, presses two fingers there and waits, trying to calm his own jittery nerves. He squeezes his eyes shut, listening, listening, and feels it; one two, one two, a rhythmic, constant beat. Relief streams through him, and he sits back on his heels. When he opens his eyes, Nikolaos is watching him anxiously, wide awake now.

😈I'll tag @writingrosesonneptune @chauceryfairytales @eccaiia @pertinax--loculos @winterandwords @revenantlore @artdecosupernova-writing and anyone else who sees this and has an OC they're tormenting!!

#other wips#💜💜💜💜💜
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✍🏼 Writing share tag

Thanks to @in-seas-of-green for the tag!

📝 Share some writing

This is part of a conversation that I really enjoyed writing in Miles From Morning...

“It’s not a compliment,” she says. “And it wasn’t really a question. It was an observation. And listen, I know I said I wasn’t going to ask why you’re so good at this, but—” “But you lied like every other asshole in here?” She laughs and shakes her head. “No. When I said that, I meant it.” “So you’re not a liar. You’re just inconsistent and untrustworthy.” “I don’t think—” “I don’t care what you think.” “Agent Turner,” she says, through gritted teeth. “Can you stop being combative for long enough to have a brief conversation?” I shrug and give her a look that’s most definitely combative. “Apparently not.”

Tagging @somethingclevermahogony, @space-writes, @talesfromaurea and @talesofsorrowandofruin if you'd like to do it, with an open tag for anyone else who wants to share some writing 💜

Reblogs, replies etc on my tag posts are always welcome, but if you're doing this tag yourself, please make your own post instead of using mine to start a reblog chain.

Want more of my writing than I post on Tumblr, with all my stories, blog posts, updates, and audio readings? Head on over to my Patreon! There's a totally free membership option and I'd love to welcome you to my cosy little queer fiction community 💞

#other wips#💜💜💜
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Snippet Share Tag

Thanks for tagging me @oh-no-another-idea!

I have decided to start rewriting ASM2 yet again, now having a slightly better idea of the plot, which so far has been 1,000 words of babble of which I have absolutely no comprehension so choosing this snippet has been enlightening!

It hardly took a moment to recognise a tall, proud figure standing by the bar: Henry's long dark hair hung loose to his broad shoulders, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. There was a stain on his vest and a fierce glare on his face, and he was gesturing aggressively at a man Jack didn't recognise. Mack was seated on a stool behind Henry with a look of indignation on his face. He was slightly leaner than Henry, but taller still and equally broad across the shoulders. His hair was cropped close to his head, his nose slightly crooked from a break many years old, and his forearms were covered with thick black tattoos. Either one of them cast a frightfully imposing figure: the two together would make most any man reconsider. Yet the stranger, well-dressed and neat as though he'd never seen a fight in his life, had a haughty look about him; he was all but sneering down his nose at them, despite being several inches shorter.
#other wips#i love the image of this#💜💜💜