hello there! I am an (unpublished) author/artist in her twenties. you can call me nahkalaka or Erika!
I generally write fantasy and I'm trying my darnedest to make folk-fantasy a recognized subgenre. However my current main wip actually has nothing to do with that...
I love exploring complex character relationships and I strive to write stories that give people particular feelings and emotions. Vibes, if you will. I'm open to considerate and constructive feedback on all of my original writing posts, and I'd love to chat about the secrets behind my stories.
I greatly appreciate works where romance is integral to the story, but not necessarily the only thing going on. The next-best-thing to me is intensely loving platonic and found-family dynamics.
Read more for my current WIPs and links!
My art tag
Mobile Link to my Projects Page, which can also get you to my short stories and poetry! (Note: my blog is still a wip itself, so some information may be missing or incomplete.)
Novels
Overgrowth | Herbarium, Volume 1/3
status: second draft being published on Royal Road
vibe: cozy coming-of-age, magical fantasy, adventure, slice-of-life, trauma recovery**does deal with some heavier topics
info: multi pov, 50k words, started in 2016
setting: The Underground, a safe haven for all who have gained magic—and lost their souls.
desc: Follows three pre-teens and the variety of people in their lives as they attempt to solve mysteries, resolve interpersonal conflicts, fall in love, and understand themselves.
link: project page
Stars in Bloom | Spin-Off, Herbarium universe
status: development hell, prioritizing Herbarium trilogy
vibe: slow burn romance, magical fantasy, slice-of-life, universe-equivalent of social justice work, trauma recovery
info: multi pov, started in 2025
setting: The Underground, a safe haven for all who have gained magic—and lost their souls.
desc: A love story between two (or more?) dorks each struggling with their own issues. They're cool dorks though, and they're destined to be together.
link: project page
The Unfamiliar | Never Chronicles
My baby, love of my life, wait for me 😭
status: being reworked hell, all info in this post is based on the original story
vibe: dreamy, moody folk fantasy, character study, mature coming-of-age, trauma recovery
info: multi pov, started in 2015
setting: The Unfamiliar, one of many fae forests in this world, and the rural human community just outside of it.
desc: A young woman learns that she is a changeling and struggles to break free from the restrictions of her human family. Also there is romance of the insidious, morally dubious kind. Is he making her worse, or better? I certainly have my own opinion.
link: project page
Other projects (who knows if they will be finished in my lifetime):
Below (queer poly romance about a society under the sea, slice-of-life)
Essence/Cliff's Edge (a vague something about magical mountainside communities, found family, magical adventure with a splash of transmigration)
Short Stories
Some were intended to be short stories, others are snippets I won't develop further at this time. You can find them here.
Poetry
As of early 2025 I have completed a few hundred poems in nearly 30 chapbooks, a few of which are now defunct. My first chapbook was started in 2016. I'll be sharing a good number of them, and you can find more info here.
Thanks for stopping by! I'd love to hear from you :)
ive always loved chara so much. throughout the years it grew bittersweet, so many people said that chara was horrible and shouldn't be supported. i started to avoid even thinking about that character because of how much people hated. but seeing how clearly toby fox loves chara healed something in me. my sweet little. chocolat
I’ve noticed lately that people don’t really understand what it feels like to be a writer. To them, we’re storytellers, yes, but ones who can just switch it off when the real world calls. They see writing as a hobby, something cute, something optional.
But Writing isn’t something we do. It’s where we live. Our heads are crowded with voices that won’t shut up, with worlds that refuse to stay imaginary. We carry entire cities inside us, whole histories that never happened but still weigh more than half the things in our calendars.
From the outside, the “writer” looks romantic. A little tortured, maybe, but mostly harmless. But to us? Being a writer feels like standing at the edge of a cliff with a thousand ghosts pressing at our backs, whispering: Tell us. Tell us. Tell us.
And we do. Not because it’s charming. But because not writing would mean carrying those ghosts forever.
did i ever mention my theory about how there are clear, real boundaries everywhere in hometown except for where the police tape is. how i suspect that that area has something to do with dess's disappearance. how i think it's possible that, just like how susie tore through the tape blocking off ralsei's room, at some point we might be able to see what lies beyond the police tape.
What’s in their carry-on? Open the bag. Tell us what’s the most surprising, sentimental, or suspicious thing inside? What's the most mundane? What can't they travel without?
Adelaide: several dresses/outfits, a spare pair of boots, and several vials of blood in a quart-sized ziplock bag. She gets very confused when she gets stopped by security.
Begrynian: a backpack with a few outfits, toiletries for himself, and extra for Adelaide
Maudit: clothes (of course), pencils and erasers, a notebook of half finished sheet music, and a small wooden flute
with people theorizing about which route is closer to the prophecy, whether the prophecy has already been botched, etc, i raise you this:
the prophecy's ending remains unchangeable. toby fox has said that there is only one ending. but there is more than one route in this game, because there are multiple ways that the words of the prophecy can come true. so far in deltarune it looks like we might get to explore two different ways of fulfilling the prophecy, but it's possible there could be even more ways, ones that toby just didn't write because the game is already pretty extensive.
I was reading that last ask you answered and I had a thought about Kris preventing the Player from seeing Asriel's room. I have doubts that Asriel will actually show up in Deltarune—in Chapter 1 Toriel says he'll be coming home next week. 7 chapters, 7 days... if Kris is protective of Asriel, what if they feel pressured to finish the game before he can come home? Before the Player can interfere with any more of their family and relationships?
I honestly feel the same about Asriel as I do Papyrus in Deltarune. don't expect either of them to show up in game. Even though I do think both games are connected, and I do think that the "Papyrus is the Knight" theories are funny, I think it would be strange to take a character who has really nothing to do with the story and shoehorn them into it. This applies less to Asriel, since he's Kris's brother and close friends with Dess, but I would still be genuinely surprised if he heavily impacted the lore.
However, onto your ask--I do think that the way the chapters are laid out, the idea that Kris is rushing the story to prevent the player from getting to Asriel very interesting. I don't think Kris knows how everything is going to play out, they're not clairvoyant, but I imagine that the reason they prevent the player from learning things about their life is to keep them from using those things against them in the future. One theory I have is that Kris's room was once more decorated and lively, before they took those things down and got rid of any person items to keep the player from learning what they liked. Similar to how they bite their hand during the Susie piano scene, they have very little things that are truly "theirs", so they hide aspects of their personality from the player.
So actively keeping Asriel away from the player isn't just for him, but also for Kris themself. They don't want him to become a disposable character that gets discarded when boring. I imagine that Kris is very protective of those around them, they kinda have to be, so keeping Susie, Asriel, Noelle away from the player is out of hating the idea of the player interfering when any of their lives.
i feel the same about Papyrus, as much as I really want to see him again! I love the way you think about this game, I feel like you have a really solid grasp of the characters and themes ♥️
I don't want to be all "leave Twitter, ditch Meta, stop using Amazon" etc because all of this is much easier to say than do, but I do believe the next couple of years are going to require a deliberate disintanglement from huge chunks of the internet for your personal wellbeing.
Google Search, no matter how many lawsuits they lose, is never going to go back to what it used to be. Amazon is not going to crack down on the scam products on their website in any meaningful way. Spotify is going to continue bankrupting artists. I like Bluesky and I've been a creature of Tumblr for, uh, over a decade, but I don't have faith in those places to stay put.
Building better spaces means finding ways to connect both in your local community and with the online communities that matter to do. Talk to your local bookshop owners, librarians, community organizers. (YouTuber F.D. Signifier has a google doc of suggestions to look into.) Get plugged into the issues happening in your town and look into ways to help. Find ways to communicate with your online pals that doesn't rely on Discord or a social media platform (email still works!)
There's a storm at sea, and two men find themselves at the unfortunate receiving end of nature's unforgiving whims. One of them wakes up alone on a long forgotten shore, trying to piece together what happened, and comes face to face with what lurks beyond.
FROM THE BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT
“All hands! Brace for impact!”
A crew’s worth of people scrambled to grab onto whatever they could reach, as the ship was barraged by the kind of wave conjured by the violent storm that raged around them. The entire deck shook with some vigour, and more than enough men were knocked off their feet with the force of it.
James Callaghan heard the unmistakeable sound of someone losing their footing to the fates of the ocean, and the moment the ship stabilised itself, he ran towards the side and looked out over the waves.
“William!”
The man was familiar even as he struggled against the pull of the tide, already soaked through as he was. But, James knew better than to assume William Smee would ever be unrecognisable, no matter what state he was in. The two of them knew each other from old, and he would be damned to ever mistake him for another.
William fought to keep himself surfaced, maintaining some sort of focus on James as he tried to reserve his strength on not drowning. “James! James!”
“Hold steady, William!”
Another wave struck from behind. James’ lack of focus almost threw him too, but before he could fall, he managed to land a grip on the taffrail with one hand, leaving him precariously hanging over the open ocean.
He tried to haul himself back up, but couldn’t find the momentum among the storm’s insistence on trying to crack the hull in two. He shot a brief glance downwards, straight into the unforgiving depths waiting for him with open arms.
A spray of water from the other side made him lose his grip on the railing. The moments of falling were stretched out into an eternity, when the world seemed to turn ever so slightly slower until his entire body felt the bracing, fiery chill of his back slamming into water.
The fall was all too fast. James barely had the time to close his eyes before he was claimed by the waves. It took all he had to work against the sudden shock and the way his muscles tensed, just to break the surface and fill his lungs like it was the first time.
By the time he made it to the surface, the current had carried him far enough from the ship that he could no longer reach it without fighting that which he knew he wasn’t strong enough to even contend with. The rain was lashing, his hair was plastered to his face, and neither of those things were making his vision any clearer.
“William?”
For all it was worth, he had tried to conduct as much of a search as he could manage, but his vision grew worse with every passing second, and the blur of salt water was making it nigh on impossible to notice whether William was there, or whether he had succumbed to some terrible fate that was never meant for him.
“William!”
The shouting of his crew was drawing further and further away. He stopped being able to tell whether that was because of the darkening fog of his own mind. That, or he was still being pulled away from them, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out where the problem lay. They couldn’t see him, and he couldn’t reach them.
The fight was pointless. No man had ever won out against a storm, and he was not about to be the first. He barely had the strength to go another round.
He closed his eyes, and let the waves take him.
==
Sunlight blazed through the gaps where shade couldn’t reach, straight into James’ eyes. He squinted as he came to, wearily lifting one hand to shield his face. His arms felt heavy as he pushed himself up, weighed down by the odyssey that he could barely remember and the strain on his muscles that made them feel like they were on fire.
It came back to him in fractals, what had happened, and he sat there on the beach he found himself on until the picture started to clear up a little. The storm… Losing his grip… It wasn’t clear by any means, but he had an idea of what landed him where he was.
But he was alive, and that was a start.
He was left stranded on a beach, digging his hands into sand that had no right to be as warm as it was. As far as he could see, the view was exactly the same, asides from the collection of boulders that seemed to lead to a cavern beyond the cove.
With some great effort, he pulled himself off the ground and sturdied himself on his feet. The ocean had washed him up here, and now it was up to him to figure out where he was and how to get himself off this shoreline.
His first port of call was that cave. Curiosity had taken over before he could think about how much of a bad idea it was, and he felt the strangest notion that he was going to find something beyond those walls.
Slowly, carefully, he made his way over the little stream and towards the cave. For lack of anything in the surrounding area, and absolutely no sign of life at all, he found a branch just outside that was dry enough to consider using as a makeshift torch, and almost swore aloud in relief when it actually caught after scraping it against the cave like a match.
But now, he was getting somewhere.
With his makeshift torch, he wandered into the cave. His meagre light guided him through the darkness, but the shadows still resided in the cracks in the rocks. He swore he saw something move within the darkness, and dared himself to edge closer to investigate. Part of him wondered whether he was just seeing himself as he walked past, but he knew for a fact he’d seen his own shadow on the other wall.
“Hello?” Instinct made him call out, as he brandished his branch like a weapon. He could still feel the cold trails of water trickling down his back from his hair, but for some reason completely unknown to him, he had the confidence imbued in him to fake a fire and act like he had the strength to fight if something happened. “Anyone there?”
There was no answer other than the wind as it tore through the open mouth of the cave. If it wasn’t cold enough within these walls, then it was certainly bordering too cold when the wind played its part.
James shivered, then decided there was nothing for it but to press on. A little twig atop his branch finally snapped off with the heat excess, and crumbled to the ground in a pathetic little pile of ash at his feet.
“Hello?”
James knew he could only rely upon his instincts for so long before he forced himself to realise that he was lost, and in that kind of position that garnered most of the power from him. He could feel the nerves building in his chest, and had ignored them for so long that they were starting to fester, to develop a mind of their own.
He should’ve anticipated something bad happening. He should’ve known that the strange understanding that came with being alone only lasted so long.
Something darted past him. The sudden breeze blew out his branch, plunging him and the cave into total darkness.
He held his breath, daring not to make a sound, and whirled around to source the sudden chill. The space immediately beyond him was darker than he could’ve imagined. Nothing was there, barely even an indication of the path he’d wandered to get this far through.
James… James…
A violent shard of ice worked its way up James’ spine and stuck fast. He swore he heard his breath catching in his throat, but he couldn’t discern it over the pounding of his heart in his ears.
That was coming from the direction he was walking in.
Swallowing his innate terror, he pressed on as he meant to, keeping one hand firmly against the wall. He couldn’t see three feet in front of his face, but he needed to clarify for himself that the voice was not calling after him. James was a common enough name where he was from (to the point where he recalled being called Jim as a kid, to avoid the confusion that came with being named after his grandfather), and he almost found comfort in the idea that he wasn’t alone, wherever it was he’d ended up.
If he wasn’t, that would mean he’d be able to find help from somewhere. Maybe he would be able to escape, or at the least, find someone who could help him plan it.
Awful foolish of you to think you’re brave, James…
He worked his way into an open area where he could finally stand without his head hitting the roof. Sunlight flooded in through tiny cracks in the cave wall that almost looked like eyes if he squinted hard enough, illuminating the world around him at strange angles. In the centre was a small body of water, and if he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn that there were honest to god stairs carved into the far wall.
“Alright,” he straightened up, still holding on— to some degree— to the burnt, crumbling branch as if it would help him any. “Who’s there?”
A laugh resonated around the cavern, vicious and childish in nature. The owner’s voice morphed and changed as it bounced off the wall, forcing James out of his bravado. The shadows reformed in front of his eyes, taking shape as the laughter grew in volume. James didn’t ignore the instinct to take a lengthy step back into the tunnels from which he’d come.
The shadows chose a shape that was almost comprehensible, and almost looked like him. James faltered.
“I am!” It declared with great pride, and as it said that, something else darted past him. The branch in his hand was replaced with an actual torch, fashioned with a sturdy dark wood and casting an impressive flame. He stared at it, and then at the shadow, who was shifting triumphantly.
“And… Who are you?” What are you? How in the name of all that’s holy do you know my name?
His remaining questions— in their multitudes though they were— were caught somewhere between his awe, that chill, and the mounting confusion, and remained so much unanswered as they had been unspoken.
“Call me…” The shadows formed something almost person-shaped, and James swore he saw it grin. One of the lights bent around the dark form in such a way, and seemed to form silvery eyes that stared right into James’ soul. It stretched out it’s palm. James saw the clear imitation of a handshake waiting to happen.
“Pan.”
“Pan…” James briefly glanced towards his free hand, and swiftly decided against showing any slight of formality. In the middle of this cave, he was the only thing left with a shadow. Pan— whatever the hell it was— had formed itself from all the little crevices and left only him behind.
Why? What did it have to prove? Could it have stolen the darkness from his shadow if it tried?
“This is my turf, James… I don’t take too kindly to those who think themselves brave enough to explore…”
It folded its arms and the shadows pulled to demonstrate this discontent almost familiar. James raised an eyebrow.
“You aren’t in a position to do anything about it,” he contested, with about as much confidence as he could muster. To him, it was something that he still had his own shadow, and by some force of logic, that meant that he had at least a little leverage, for as long as that might last.
“Am I not?”
The shadows dissipated, suddenly plunging the entire cavern into a thick darkness that James’ torch only barely penetrated.
Another of those laughs resounded through the darkness. “You have absolutely no idea what you’re up against! Do you really want to stand your ground? Against me?”
James tightened his grip on the torch. He was aware he held injuries from the storm, and he wasn’t in the best of ways because of that, but he was not about to be bested into submission by a shadow.
“I’ll sure as hell try.”
“Will you, indeed? Oh, that is fun! Alright then, if you’re so insistent on a challenge, then I will concede.”
Immediately, the shadows vanished. The figure, all of the usual shadows from the cavern’s rocks… Everything except for his own dark reflection at his feet, stretching out into the tunnel beyond. He was the only thing left in this realm of normal facing abnormalities, and he had some kind of a purpose now.
What, he didn’t know, but he sure had one. Pan had completely vanished, and yet had been itching for a confrontation only seconds before.
He refused to believe that was it. It barely felt like a beginning.
Now was his window to back down and try and find some way off this shoreline he’d found himself on. Since he could last recall, at least half a day had passed. It was darkening when he and William had been thrown overboard, and now daylight broke through the fleeting clouds that remained from the storm. He didn’t know where the crew was, nor what became of the ship, but he knew that there was some instinct in him telling him that didn’t matter.
That part of him thought confronting this entity was bound to be one of the worst decisions he’d ever make, but the other part of him was riled by the taunts, and really wanted to prove himself.
He turned around, and went to wander back through the tunnels, thinking he’d make his decision by the time he made it back out.
In the middle of the tunnel was a sliver of light shaped perfectly like a face. Two discernable eyes and that demon’s grin he’d seen take place in the shadows. His breath hitched. Knuckles paled against the handle of the torch, he led himself onwards, unable to ignore the face of that shadow.
When he emerged on the other side after trying to navigate himself backwards, he found himself staring at the hulking mass of a huge schooner.
As much debate as there is about tone tags, 90% of the issues would be solved by just typing the word. Like instead of typing /gen or /hj you can just write (genuine) or (handjob) and you'll be doing pretty much the exact same thing.
Of course I personally think it's less awkward to use some rudimentary language skills to form actual sentences and phrases. They don't even have to be complicated. Like "Genuine question, why are you doing that?" Or "I'm being serious. Stop that." Or "I'm going to jerk you off now."
imo, the reason why tone tags are more effective is because they stand out from normal writing/speech. there is so much subtext involved with communication, so much implication, and having an external code is much more clarifying than including the words in your phrasing. "genuine question, why are you doing that?" can still convey an attack, judgement, etc. but "why are you doing that? /gen" has the automatic reassurance because the /gen is outside of the language being used.
i dont tend to use tone tags myself very often, but i absolutely understand why people like them and why they are effective.
you mention "rudimentary language skills" but it is a skill to be able to recognize when the current way of communicating is not enough, and to evolve to meet new needs. tone tags communicate intent clearly in a way that language alone often does not.
i do agree that writing out the full word would be more helpful than abbreviations that are not largely agreed upon.
woke up and someone spilled vanilla extract all over my dash, so as punishment you strange little beasties are getting all the VANILLA FACTS i know:
vanilla is the 2nd most expensive spice in the world (2nd to saffron)
which is why more than 99% of what we call "vanilla extract" is actually vanillin (vanilla's dominant flavor compound) and is not extracted from real vanilla.
luckily, even professionals struggle to tell the difference when it comes to things like baked goods. but there is a distinct difference in non-heat treated products like vanilla ice cream. real vanilla has a more complex, individualized flavor profile.
why is vanilla so expensive? because it is a ridiculously delicate & demanding crop. complete primadonna.
vanilla beans come from vanilla orchids. these crazy flowers bloom for A SINGLE DAY and have to be HAND-POLLINATED in a process that is exhausting, delicate, and requires specialist knowledge passed down over generations.
then, if you're lucky, you get vanilla beans.
which then require months of further specialized treatment.
the entire process takes about a year and can go wrong at any stage
vanilla has been cultivated for over 800 years (possibly much longer). the first known cultivators are the Totonac, an indigenous people of Mexico.
the Aztecs used it as a sweetener to balance out the bitter taste of cocoa. it was popular in a drink called xocolatl--the precursor to modern hot chocolate!
it is only pollinated by a very specific orchid bee!!!
which is why no fruit could be grown outside of Mexico until the 1800s
Edmond Albius, born into slavery, invented the pollination method we still use today--launching a global industry when he was just 12 years old.
today, the majority of the world's vanilla is grown in Madagascar
if you want real vanilla, read the labels carefully--it's harder to find than you think!
in conclusion, those tiny black specks you see in fancy vanilla ice cream? those are vanilla bean seeds! itty bitty orchid seeds!!! they are delicious and also a PRISSY BITCH!
ok i know this is a bit and you are just taking part in my bit but also with complete sincerity YES. it is absolutely still reactionary moralism even if you're "correct". to have a kneejerk built-in response of disgust and horror at something is something that should always be examined and something you are CONSCIOUS of. you cannot just rely on the impulse to think that because you feel that way there must be a good reason for it (and therefore you are good and it is bad).
because if you give in to the heady perfume of the idea that you're intelligent and aware enough to know with complete certainty when your disgust response is justifiable and appropriate, there are always going to be motherfuckers at the gates who are very very eager to explain in different kinds of ways why you should hate and oppress jews and queer people and nonwhite people and etc etc ad nauseum. and there will eventually come a day where without even realizing it you are reframing their shitty talking points because you never stopped to examine why you feel a certain way about certain things.
genuinely though, my condolences to the indie authors writing weird books, books without marketable romance, books without romance at all, books that can't fit the tropes du jour without stretching the truth, books that defy explanation, books that experiment. I'm trying to find you guys and it's so hard to track these books down!!!
Happy STS, my friend! What's your endgame for your project? Do you have a direction you want to take or are you just having fun and winging it?
Hi hi, thank you!
I do have a rough endgame for my current main project, which is the Herbarium Collection. I've finished my second draft of volume 1, I've worked on editing volume 2 a bit, but volume 3 never got a complete first draft. I don't want to give too much information (spoilers and all), but there will be a close call and successful avoidance of some greater conflict between the two major societies of the story. Happy endings!
I am considering switching my main project soon, and if I do, the one I would switch to has a much less solid endgame. I'm really struggling with that one right now (Never Chronicles/The Unfamiliar), but I love it so much and I want to do it right.
