Drawings/Writings and other Sh*te

An easier place to put my stuff on here instead of losing them to my reblogs. FFN name is Jaiyere. Links: https://edna-nei.tumblr.com/post/181823015125/links-related-to-me

[eden-nei]

Links related to Me

Figured I should probably just drop them here if anyone’s interested.

Fanfiction.net

https://m.fanfiction.net/u/8198040/

(Only got 4 stories on there, consisting of KHR, DP, and HP)

AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrownJaiyere/pseuds/CrownJaiyere

(Same thing, Same stories, different platforms)

Fictionpress.net

https://www.fictionpress.com/u/1071121/

(Casual writings of the non-fandom variety.)

Tumblr -Other branches

@honeden @karkira @vongola-scenarios

(Casual, Fandom related to anything, ask blog for KHR writings)

Discord

https://discord.gg/qpX8Jrz

(Sad, Lonely, Empty place that’s based mostly for Fanfiction writing)

[eden-nei]

*sees friends follow* Voids I actually have to post now.

[eden-nei]

|”He wants nothing more then to remain here, up in the sky where he belongs in a body that’s Right [...]

But he has a story to write.”| - Forbidden Lands

I’ve been close to radio silent these days have an art

Thanks to @charrhylis for the Dragon Hybrid Philz design kek. And to a friend on Instagram—go follow them it’s redactedcrow— thanks to both Charr and Crow for the lines used in this art.

[eden-nei]

Updated a story surprisingly. Maybe I’ll be on a roll. *knocks on wood lmao*

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17322560

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[rointheta-deactivated20150914]

40 Questions — Meme for Fic Writers

Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Share one of your strengths.

Share one of your weaknesses.

Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Which fic has been the hardest to write?

Which fic has been the easiest to write?

Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

Describe your perfect writing conditions.

How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

What do you look for in a beta?

Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

How do you feel about collaborations?

Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Do you accept prompts?

Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

How do you feel about smut?

How do you feel about crack?

What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

Would you ever kill off a canon character?

Which is your favorite site to post fic?

Talk about your current wips.

Talk about a review that made your day.

Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

[eden-nei]

To put in the archives lmao because it’s art and I don’t wanna lose it.

It also happens to be an ultimate remake of the thing a few posts down.

[eden-nei]

Generation Juncture (WIP Open for Others)

[“You know what? You’re right. Who knows what kind of awesome, super-cool things exist on the other side of that Portal?”]

Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley Remember minutes before Danny does. Foggy, blurry. They reached out, disorientation tugging at their souls. Did they make it?

[“Hang on, you can’t go walking around with that on your chest.”]

Precious, precious minutes wasted. They couldn’t move, invisible eyes watching bodies repeating a fate they were too late to save. One step, two, and they were far too slow.

Too late, Too late.

Danny paused, a hand inches away from pressing a button that was never noticed until now.

Were they safe? Did he arrive? Did he make it? His head turned to look at the both of them. Childhood friends looked at each other, eyes wide.

—

(Psst feel free to any that even see this to continue if you want!)

[eden-nei]

So anyways I got a drawing tablet and a program I know nothing about. I figured I might as well draw myself in the @phandomphightclub I just wanted to draw some signs and then it devolved from there. Oof. Tis me, @honeden the sign waving maniac.

[eden-nei]

Humans

Let’s quote Bruce Lee. “The unfolding of the bare human soul, that is what interests me.” interesting, no? To want to know the very essence of a human and what makes them.../them/ is something that many seek out. Of course I don’t know the context to this quote I’m just going off of what tumblr has spat out at me but it is something to think about. What makes a human, human? Is it the the physical anatomy that gives us two legs, two arms, ten fingers and one brain? Or perhaps it’s our morality, our ability to think and care and go against the very laws of nature.

What a thing to ponder. In fact, it’s so intriguing I might turn off the music playing in the background...perhaps not. Perhaps I’ll merely change position moving so as not to disturb the animals that sleep with me on this lonely bed. It’s not cold at least. That would double the impact.

Suffice to say, you the reader do not know what it is I might be doing, unpredictable that a human may be. You do not who I look like, do not know how I act and yet the way I type these words are something to say about who I might be. Curious, Right? Of course, you would not be reading this if you weren’t interested after all. Or perhaps it is merely boredom, searching for something to send you into Morpheus’ arms.

And here I return to my original. What makes a human? The soul? Mind? Will? Body?

I say that only serves a part of it. And not even I know the answer, a spiraling circle of never ending that sends me round and round unable to decipher what I myself think makes up of our humanity. Of course, it is the matter of different opinion. Like how many say the secret to life, the universe and everything is 42, courtesy of a certain clever movie that many adore. Of course if one were to put it into Japanese, it would turn to something far more...sinister. I’ll leave that to you all to figure what I mean. What an ominous number.

Humans are fickle beings, a state of atoms and matter and organic life somehow working together (often a little glitchy though. Not even the universe can create perfection, and humanity, while trying is not that. Not by a long shot.) to create something that can make and invent and sing and speak and move. Interactions, communications, the ‘unity’ of each other like magnets to its opposite or similar. Humans are so weird. How have we made it this far? To accomplish so much and yet so little, we are an anomaly on this gathering of life and heat and electricity and many other creatures that we simply will not be able to completely understand without the help of others like ourselves. A conglomeration of souls merely searching a way out. Signed forever, Eden.

[eden-nei]

Things come in Threes (most of the time)

Three stood before her, reflections of a feelings past. She had three; so here she stood, before him, before her, before them. A Paradise, a Child Lost, and a Content mind of anguish.

The first, a Paradise, that of quiet mind and oddity humour. The one to lend a helping hand to those they could never reach, offering to be the listener, the secret-keeper. It was a release to be relied on, to hold close those they loved. He was what she always wished to be, a strength for the Family she gathered around her. An Oasis in the sand.

The second, a Child Lost, a playfulness she could never keep up. The wandering curiousity and toddler impulsiveness was what defined this little one. Instinct held strongest to this sweetness of fake innocence. A light in her world, yet always aware in the far depths of her mind, that she would be lost were it not for Him, for Them. A Honey pot protected strongly by their family, never knowing that this pot was merely full of wax. (and yet they knew as well, never once saying anything, willing to continue the falseness until someone came to mold the piece.)

The third was neither, a human? Perhaps not, and yet a little Guardian for the others, content with the role they took upon themselves. Willing to see themselves and admit a wrongness, and yet content with what they saw. They are the follower the beloved, ready to help the best they can when Paradise cannot. And yet a darkness holds them, one that she is very aware. It is they that she pays the most Attention too and yet is so very scared of. It hurts after all when you’re aware of the world, aware of what she is and accepts it for what they may be. Content of Anguish indeed.

Paradise, Lost Child and Anguished Content.

But.

There is one more is there not? The vessel, the physical. Her. The Original who cannot feel anything, relying on a categorization in which to stabilize this Life-not-life. A lonely little being that does not know what to do but learning with every stumbled step. Here she wears Him, wears Her, wears Them. A shield and sword and armour all around, moving in a dark marsh at midnight. No fae lead her way in this long and weary march. Marching marching marching on. It’s a wonder she was not more confused in this winding invisible path. From here where shall she go? What does Paradise say? Child? Content? She hears assurance, contemplation, a weak shrug. They help very little but it is all she has for now. She’ll just have to keep going then wouldn’t she? Keep going until support appears or until she gives out herself, a feat hard to reach on either one.

So raise that shield, hold that sword. Little soldier you can do it, you have it all. It’s merely taking that first step. Signed forever, Eden.

[disoriented-writer]

Writer Problems

Me, trying to start a new project:

[drawing-prompt-s]

Draw the God of Chaos

[eden-nei]

[eden-nei]

Time

The theme is Time. Time of the fickle, Time of the weary. Those without it, learning to work and work and work, with thoughts to fill what little is left, nary a breathe can one take. And those with plenty, drowning in the loneliness it brings. There is a small trait that both with and without hold. Drowning. Drowning in words and in stress and simply finding a way out with a solution that does not last long.

I had another thought for this, as this topic brings about. But I do not remember, memories slipping between my mind fluttering away like bubbles before my eyes. Perhaps the reason will come back, itself and more perhaps. Many say time is such an evil mistress, eating away at anything and everything, whether it is body, object, mind or even soul. For many it is a mindless, numbing thing that if not filled with others things will weigh down on you like atlas and the sky in which he holds, forever with no mercy and no thought.

Hmmm...

To me, Time is an odd creature, never doing much in the beginning, flitting here and there, cuts trace touching everything within sight, leaving a mark that no one can escape.

To the young it is too much, causing a yearning for the distant Future, looking for a way to speed it up, impatience colouring their soul. To those of the old? It is never enough, a plead to that which they once asked to move faster, now a pleas to slow down to stop the water slipping down the sewer grate. Neither get what they asked. Only Coincidence and Circumstance control what Time cannot.

And funny, how I mention Coincidence, a Coincidence that I would mindlessly write what controls everything like a mushroom living in its form of decay. A coincidence, no?

And how odd that I would choose Cime as my topic to write, the reason lost before these tired eyes of mine. I suppose it was the Circumstance in which I started the Train.

And funny how Time is the deadline for if I stop everything before me will be destroyed, a machine timing my every word, red encroaching as I pause for breath. This is not for the faint of mind I must say. Tis, it is how I fall into madness of the writers mind, words flowing full of thought and yet not at all. For every mind is different, every eye seeing a picture from a different angle unless brought to ideas of another.

And from there it is a small time in which I fall, falling in an endless beyond. What is Time but the roaring waves against the rock, or the wind upon the land, or the constant drivel of an office desk job with nothing but type, type, type. A terrifying Immortality that even It cannot escape itself. Isn’t it comforting? Maybe so. And so I say, a Toast to Time. Signed, Forever now, Eden.

[eden-nei]

I looked back and I realised in my fever I wrote all that in under 15 minutes and I’m terrified.

[yeolology]

What I find really odd about fanfic in general is that you can almost tell what kind of a person is writing it, you know?? Like some people are really poetic in their descriptions, some people almost drown in the feelings they write, others create dialogue that flows so well it feels like you’re watching real people discuss things in front of your eyes… I just really love that aspect of it, and I love placing writers in a kind of “hey look they’re a descriptions/feelings/dialogue kind of person” box so to speak. It’s such a pleasure reading it when it’s written so individually

[thetrashywritingwitch]

Well now I’m curious what you guys think I am? Descriptions/feelings/dialogue writer?

[eden-nei]

Kings and Queens and Siblings (plus a scattering of existential Crisis)

Marching, marching, marching onwards, the kings of kings, and the strength of many behind him. He leads on, with a soft heart under hardened steel and a will to change the world. She stands with him, not behind, Not ahead, but with, equal grounds to shift the path of time as we see it. She and he? They and them. Strength beyond all reasons, blood of the same, marching, marching on. Friends and family alike. Brother and sister, he and she. Her and him. Whoever said they were lovers? But of course the world is not kind and many will try to change what I have written. Let them be for it is their story, their world, and I have no control. Let them rule their universes, their ideas, their world. Let them write of kings and Queens, of siblings lost, the servents of the people. Let them be and let them write.

Where was I going with this? Ah, yes. Kings and Queens. Monarchy. Siblings? Co-ruling. Equal standing, never a shadow. But without shadow there is no light, so is there truly equal? Only those content to play a role only they have made for themselves. The kingdom in which I have written, the breeze between my fingers and the sea in my hair. The earth is my skin and here I breath them to life on a phone with words in code and in electricity. Isn’t the world simply fantastic?

But yes, back to Royalty. Back to learning what it means to be royalty, royalty where if you were such a thing you will not be swallowed by the light OR the dark. A balance must be made and a loyalty to your people. Royalty is not riches nor is it war. It is learning to lead and it is knowing to help those who look up to you. It isn’t about ego and...and. And. And. And. I’ve lost track. Oof. It is back now, of not ego and of not overestimating yourself. To teach and bring the world through another season, another moon. Royalty is a means of leadership, yes? But do not forget the ones who have chosen you as such, for it is a the people who choose. Choose to have you be as such. Well, the majority of people at least. Right? Or is that democracy?

Look at the words I’ve made. A right mess dontcha think? At least it is something? Because for me what I feel right now as I lay on this bed? I feel I am floating in light, in chaos, drowning and suffocating and breathing all the same. That little existential crisis within me has expanded to few as if I and lost within my own mind with nothing but me and the phone in my hand, writing these words of a muddled creature. What an odd body this is, with the ability to make one feel as if they are lost to the world. Signed forever, Eden.

[eden-nei]

Debating to see if I should do a small challenge for myself…500 words a day. Anything, and any topic. Fanfiction or Otherwise. If anyone wants to join go ahead.

[eden-nei]

To add to this challenge imma use a website that I’ve been holding in my bookmarks. 500 words, and I can’t stop. Oof.

For anyone who is interested:

https://www.themostdangerouswritingapp.com/

The Most Dangerous Writing App

Don’t stop typing, or all progress will be lost.