Hi, I’m Koji, and this is my blog. You’ll notice info is a bit more sparse on this page than you’re probably used to. That’s because this blog isn’t really for attracting new partners that aren’t already familiar with my characters. Having said that, if anyone comes to this blog that I haven’t already discussed my canons or OCs with and is interested in learning more, feel free to send me an ask or an IM. I’ve got no problem talking about them, and who knows? Maybe we’ll be able to work something out.
Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)
1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?
2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?
3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?
4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?
5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?
6. What is your darkest fear about writing?
7. What is your deepest joy about writing?
8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?
9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know
10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?
11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?
12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules
13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?
14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?
15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?
16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?
17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.
18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.
19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?
20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch
21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?
22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?
23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.
24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?
25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?
26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?
27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?
28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?
29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?
30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?
31. Write a short love letter to your readers.
32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?
33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?
34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:
35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?
36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?
37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?
38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?
39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?
independent multimuse blog written by Ben (he/they) featuring Copia/Papa Emeritus IV of the band Ghost, as well as muses from Marvel, DC, Dragon Age, Star Wars, and assorted others. Canon and OC friendly. Multiverse. Promo by @mysteriary, as always <3
NON RP BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT! IF YOU ARE NOT AN RP BLOG PLEASE DO NOT LIKE OR REBLOG THIS OR SAVE THE GRAPHIC If you are an rp blog, reblogs would be appreciated :)
Her fingers curl around his throat, find a home under the hinges of his jaw. Moss green eyes flicker across his face, trying to find some indication of ill-intent from the man who bares himself so vulnerably towards her. Rabbit’s heart is thumping in her chest, and she can feel Jono’s heartbeat against her palm.
He is warm and soft and so stupid; his willing exposure to her is almost as fearful a thing as the idea of her own.
“I’ll be truly dead and buried before I’m ever afraid enough to avoid you.”
Another sharp tug of his hair, teeth bared between purple painted lips. She makes a snap decision, stares down at him with a blank expression.
“Ask me.”
There’s a fearful familiarity, a cursed contentment that he settles into. Pain he understands; can comprehend as a reasonable reaction to his irksome existence. Whereas such disdain once registered as earned misery he was doomed to endure, from her hands it somehow almost feels like an undue grace that some yearning part of him savors every dol of which she inflicts.
“Ask me.”
He blinks; the sudden switch to stark stoicism leaving him soundly stupefied. Silently staring into her eyes, he scans for some semblance of the intent behind her confounding question. Bearing consequences he could relish was simple, but the notion of an opportunity to freely speak to a hunger even he did not yet fully comprehend left him dumbfounded.
“What more could you possibly have me ask of you when you’ve already given so much more than I could have even known to want?”
Not for the first time, Rabbit considers throwing him out, or delivering him to the doorstep of the man she’d rescued him from in the first place, with a bow and an apology note.
My mistakes, he’s all yours. XoXo Rabbit
Jono would forgive her for the betrayal before Taniel forgave him for being liberated from his ownership, she’s certain. And the other man would take it out on him; not physically, no, she’s sure Taniel Keiding had never lifted a hand to Jono that wasn’t soft and manipulative in nature, but there are worse things than pain.
In Rabbit’s opinion, there were a great many things worse than pain.
Like the absence of it entirely.
Rabbit is a creature built by isolation, and she knows little else but how to live a solitary life. Jono has destroyed all of that, with his soft hair and big eyes, his pathetic helplessness that shrouds just how much power he houses in his frail form.
She stands, kicking the chair she had been perched on out from underneath her so that she might stand over Jono’s seated formed, her fingers pulling his hair so tightly that he now must look directly up at her.
(His throat is an enticing column, long and pale and slender, and she imagines her teeth imprinted there)
“You are such a foolish thing.”
Her free hand reaches out, trailing the point of one long, stilettoed nail across that soft and tender flesh of his neck.
“ It annoys me. You annoy me.”
His breath catches in his throat at the forceful pull, and though his head is tilted towards her his eyes momentarily shut as the next jolt shoots through him. When they open a moment later to meet her own, he finds a familiar scowl staring back.
He can’t explain the inspiration to indulge she instills in him, but he does know that regardless of intent it is far from fear he feels as the icy reminders of his vulnerability draw a line from jaw to jugular. At any other time, desire is deemed decidedly dismissable, but in this moment he feels emboldened. Maybe he really is getting too comfortable with her.
“I do tend to have that effect on people. Most opt to meet that with avoidance, but that doesn’t appear to be your kind of approach.”
technically you didn’t specify which would normally mean it’s for Plushia but I will make an exception for you
Her gaze jolts from the tarot cards she’s mindlessly flipping over and over and over to him, narrowing in consideration. Rabbit’s hand slips out, clawed acrylics prickling along Jono’s neck as she slips her fingers along his spine, curling into his hair and tugging.
It’s not an overly harsh gesture; perhaps he might wince, but it’s not an entirely painful sort of thing.
The smile Rabbit gives him is cold.
“Puppy, darling, I think you’re growing entirely too comfortable with me.”
He’s mid sip from a cup of tea when the chill of trails up his back, and has just enough time to recover from the pause it gives him to set down his drink before it reaches his head. And wince he does, though with the pain also comes a sliver of a smile. It’s not that he meant to push her buttons with his jest, per se, but there’s a gratification to her admonishing grip that he can’t deny or obscure. “Perhaps, but of course we’ve already covered that that comfort supersedes any semblance of caution.”
“I’ve already told you, like, a billion times. You’re a walking daddy kink. What more do you want from me?”
She knows what he wants. It’s unfortunate, however, that’s she’s determined not to deliver.
Serious conversations?
Oof.
It’d be so easy to just let her joke be the end of it, but in managing to summon the courage to even try to have this conversation came the determination to see it through. “Look, girlie, we both know whatcha saw; what happened. Ya don’t gotta pretend.”
“–I was starting to think you weren’t real, but just some giant conspiracy from Ronald Reagan, like birds.”
Is she eying him up like a steak? Abso-fucking-lutely.
“I’d say my track record proves that I do not, in fact, work for the bourgeoisie, no matter what Tony says.”
Her appraisal of him doesn’t go unnoticed, and it puts a somewhat bashful half smile on his face. He’s heard Darcy’s not exactly shy, and she’s living up to the legend.
