G.T. Anthony 🏳️‍⚧️🦇
LightNews LightNews
banner
theeldervampire.bsky.social
G.T. Anthony 🏳️‍⚧️🦇
@theeldervampire.bsky.social
66 followers 97 following 770 posts
Call me Gabe | he/they | 29
🔞
Just a lonely ghoul with his face always stuck in a book.
Writer of a little queer dark fantasy:
https://archiveofourown.org/series/4923589
Storygraph: https://app.thestorygraph.com/profile/eldervampire83
Minors DNI / 🚫AI
Posts Replies Media Videos
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | belong
The moment that Elias in WitchXHunter WIP realizes that his lover, Obadiah, is not a good guy. 🚩

CW for domestic abuse and manipulation
“I would like to stay with you.” Elias smiled, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “You mean so much to me. I want to be a part of your world, as much as you are a part of mine.” He chuckled. “Elias, you don’t want to live in Eden Hollow. Our life here is better.” “But I don’t get to see you as much anymore.” He blushed. “I want to be by your side, to lie with you every night. I want to tend to the farm, our farm. I want to perhaps live among your friends in Eden Hollow. The way you talk about them, it seems like a quaint town.” Obadiah sighed. “Elias…” He gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. “As much as I would love to take you with me to Eden Hollow, you can’t come with me.” He frowned, starting to sit up. “I love you, Obadiah. We’ve been together for three years. What does your settlement think you’ve been doing?” “Elias, they will never understand you. They will only see you as a threat.” “But if they got to know me, then I can change their mind. I can do a lot to help a community. Perhaps, they would not be as wary as you’d think.” “You will never belong among them, Elias.” That had him stricken, and his hands shook. “I know that my old village was cruel to me, but times have changed. I have been getting more offerings again.” “Elias.” He flinched when Obadiah took a firm hold of his shoulder, pinning him to the bed. With him so bare, so vulnerable, it made him freeze. “Let me say it plainly to you,” he muttered. “You would be put to death if you went to Eden Hollow. One look at you, and they will set upon you like wolves. They will see you possessing your magic and brand you a danger.”
December 1, 2025 at 9:09 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#Lovember
I'm really soft abt familial love (Parent/Child), but the exact snippet I'm thinking of to fill this prompt from WitchXHunter WIP is a MAJOR spoiler 😅
Instead I'm gonna share this scene of Avery + Tristan deciding to get married!💕 (w ALT text)

Thank you for hosting!! This was really fun!
Sure enough, vines gradually grew and spread out from his hand. They curled around the trunk, working their way up slowly into the boughs. As he smiled up at it, daisies began to bloom. Tristan let go of his hand. A chill clutched at Avery’s heart, and he glanced back. “T-Tristan?” Tristan was staring up at the tree, his eyes wide. He stood still for a moment before moving closer to the tree, reaching up to one of the higher points. He plucked one of the flowers carefully and gave it a closer look. “I…” Avery started to cower back. “Tristan, I have witch blood.” He said nothing for a moment, still looking at the flower. He then turned his head to look down at him. “Witch blood?” he frowned. Avery could not stop his tears, but he nodded. “There is a witch in my ancestry. Whatever powers they had were passed down to me. I… I can make flowers grow.” He looked back towards the direction of Father’s farm. “I help foster the grains and corns. I keep the animals safe. They… th-they understand me. This forest. It lives and regards me as a friend.” He watched Tristan again. “The hunter didn’t kill the witch. He still lives. He’s been helping me understand this gift, this magic. And for the first time in my life, I don’t feel like something was wrong with me.” Tristan was quiet for too long, so fear began to grip Avery. He started to cry. “P-please, say something,” he whimpered. “Please. I know you’re angry, Tristan, a-and I’m scared.” “Avery…” Tristan moved closer, shaking his head. “Avery, look at me.” He tried looking up, but tears kept clouding his vision. “That’s it, darling.” He carefully wiped some tears away with his thumb. “Look at me.” “I’m so sorry.” He sniffled. “I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you.” Tristan pressed another kiss to his lips. “You have me. You will always have me.” His voice was soft, gentle, and it was wavering. Avery had never heard him cry before, not like this. “How many times do I need to say it for you to finally believe me, Avery?” Tears rolled down his cheeks. “I love you, Avery Miller. I love you with all my heart. You are the best part of my life. I am happiest whenever I get to see you. You gave my life new meaning.” Avery hiccupped before Tristan kissed him again. It was so gentle and reverent. “Witch?” He gave him another kiss. “Not a witch? It doesn’t matter.” Another kiss. “Nothing changes. You are still my Avery.” He smiled, so fond and warm. “You are still the same beautiful man I fell in love with.” Avery smiled as he wept. “I love you.” He was stammering and gasping. “I-I love you, Tristan. I’d been so afraid. I was afraid of you getting hurt. I was scared of what everyone would think, what they could do to us. But you are right. It should not matter. You matter. I want to be with you.” Still in tears, Tristan smiled and pressed soft kisses to his face. “I love you, Avery. Oh, darling.” Avery smiled against Tristan’s lips as they kissed each other once more, the two of them meeting with such passion. Avery whimpered and held his shoulders. “I want it, Tristan,” he gasped against his lips. “I want you. I-I want to marry you.” “You do?” Tristan grinned. “You’ll marry me?” “Yes.” Avery felt a tremendous weight off his shoulders. At last. Finally, he was honest. He finally said what he wanted. But he went further. “Right here.” “Here?” Tristan pulled back, his brows rising. “Now?”
December 1, 2025 at 1:26 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | number
Sterling in WitchXHunter WIP first enters the town after recovering from his wounds in the forest.
Feat. Avery and his dad
Sterling felt that the safest route would be to approach the town from the western gates. They were the closest, and they were less guarded. Given his dishevelled state, he feared that the guards stationed at the front gates would more likely see him as a malevolent force. He was sweating through his shirt, remiss that he did not have all his layers to maintain some semblance of dignity. And sure enough, once he approached these gates, he was able to let himself in with just a creak making his presence known. The first sight was a small farm. There were fields of corn and steady growing grains. He could see a goat and sheep pen, not as impressive in number as the farms he saw back in Lethemal. The homestead itself was the main marvel, small but sturdy. A young man was working with the goats in their pen. Pale skin, eyes that almost looked silver in the daylight. Under a weathered kerchief, he had dark hair that rivalled pitch tied back in a loose tail. While he worked, he had a smile on his face while tending to the goats. He must have heard Sterling’s footsteps, for he stood straighter and turned his head in his direction. That smile on his face vanished, and he nearly tripped when stepping back. “Father?” he called out towards the hut. “Father, come here!” Sterling froze as an older man approached from the house. He wore a straw hat, and his clothes were a bit distressed with some patches on his breeches. He had a stern face, brown eyes that stared right through him, and a mallet in hand. “What is it now, Avery?” the man huffed until he made eye contact with Sterling. “Come no further, vagabond.” “Hold.” Sterling lifted up his hands in surrender. “I can explain.” “The guards will not come here fast enough. I will take drastic measures.” The older man glared while wielding his mallet. “State your purpose.”
November 30, 2025 at 10:37 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
If you see this, I IMPLORE you to post a picture from whatever device you're using without explanation
A grayscale cropped image of the NPC art of Donavich from the Dungeons & Dragons "Curse of Strahd" module. The text at the center of the image reads "all around me are familiar faces," the opening lyrics from the song "Mad World."
November 29, 2025 at 12:35 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WeeknightWriters
I'm demonstrating with snippets from #FirstDraftFall
My favorite part has been having each POV character's storyline having distinct voices and styles, displaying their mentalities, conflicts, and flaws through the prose.
1: Sterling
2: Elias
3: Avery
The witch’s smile slowly returned. “I find you interesting, Theodore. Do you know why?” “I am not sure I will like the answer, witch.” “Elias.” Sterling just grunted while waiting. “You claim to be so devout. You claim to have such an integral bond to your faith, one that made you turn to witch hunting to appease your god. But do you know one thing your sect considers worshipping false idols?” The witch then held something up that made his face grow pale. He had the trinket in his grasp. He had it hidden within the top of his robes. He ran his fingers over the woven branches. “I must say, hunter, having a paganistic token on your person would get you in quite a bit of trouble.” He then twirled it between his fingers. “A true inquisitor of your calibre would be excised and executed for possessing a trinket like this.” “Give that back,” Sterling snapped, reaching for it just as the witch moved it out of his reach. That only made his smirk grow more devious. “Oh, whyever would I do that? I would be doing you a favour, you know. Also, I quite like it,” he said. “Perhaps, I should wear it around my neck.” “I mean it, witch.” He reached again, this time barely touching the branches. “And it is not a paganistic token. It was a gift.” “A gift from whom, hunter?” He opened his mouth to answer, the answer quickly dying in his throat. He thought about the person, thought about the look on her face when she gave it to him. It was from a happier time long ago. They had just finished supper at the table and were winding down with fairytales. His husband always fancied telling the girls about all kinds of adventures princesses and dames set out on. Elias was warm. That was the first thing he noticed. He kept his eyes shut while turning on his side, wincing when he stretched. His chest ached, right where his heart was beating. He used too much magic this afternoon. Before the forest started dying, larger bursts did exhaust him. But the spells he was using earlier never rendered him unconscious before. Did he use his healing too many times in quick succession? Was it the vines? The gusts? How much time had passed? His eyes flew open, and he started to sit upright, but his head throbbed. He shuddered while clutching it. He did not like this. He did not like this vulnerability. His blood went cold when he smelled smoke. He heard a man’s voice right outside his hovel. What day was it? What year was it? “Confound it,” the voice grunted. Elias stood, holding onto the wall to keep himself balanced. His legs were still weak. Cautious, he stepped towards the entrance, his hands shaking. “…Obadiah?” He stopped when he saw the man. It was not Obadiah. This man was too stout, and his hair was dark. That was right… Elias slowly came back to himself. Theodore Sterling was this man’s name. “Hm?” Theodore looked over. He was standing over a controlled little fire. “What’d you say?” “Nothing,” Elias muttered. “I am surprised you did not try to run.” This was his safe place, here within this forest. He liked to come here to think, to be alone for a little while. And sometimes, when fate allowed it, he could share this moment of peace with another person. Avery’s heart stuttered when he heard approaching footsteps a few moments later. He held his breath, leaning against one of the trees. He centred himself by listening to the calling sparrows. He turned his head towards the approaching visitor. When he saw a familiar tall, broad man with large hands, his shoulders relaxed. Tristan ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Quite warm today.” Avery nodded. “It is. But I like it,” he confessed with a shy smile. “I especially like it when the wind comes to cool me down.” “I think I might like that, too.” When he stepped closer, he reached into a satchel he had strapped over his shoulder. “For you.” Soon, Tristan held out a small wooden carving. It was a little fox figurine. Such detail was put into it, and Avery could only imagine how long it took for him to make it. “It’s beautiful.” Avery blushed as he reached out to take it. He slowly ran his fingers over the grooves in the wood, feeling each place Tristan carved. “You should make more of these.” “Unfortunately, my trade requires me to work on much larger objects.” Tristan chuckled, reaching out. “I only make these for those that are precious to me.” Avery shivered, feeling Tristan’s hand rest on his waist. Still gentle with the figurine, he met his eye. “Tristan?” His voice trembled as he leaned further back against the tree. Tristan followed, his grip still gentle. “I missed you.” To his relief, Tristan smiled. His other hand was tender when touching his cheek. “I missed you too, Avery.”
November 28, 2025 at 1:13 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | disorganize
From WitchXHunter WIP
Theodore's internal struggle with his gay panic over Elias, as well as parsing through his grief and looking inward.

In the spirit of giving thanks, I'm thankful for this incredible community and how we support each other's writing journeys✨
Why did he do it? Why? Theodore was left to ponder it, which was dangerous. Why did he try to kiss the witch? He could not understand it. He furiously thought about it for several days. He thought about it while at Sabbath. He thought about it while working on his inquests with the limits he posed on himself. He thought about it late at night, in the dark, when the world would not judge him for being too self-indulgent. Such a debilitating spell was placed upon him. It was disorganising his thoughts. This had to be a bewitchment. There was no other way he would have done it. But if that were true, then why would the witch in turn push him away and reprimand him? Elias was a wildfire. His influence was spreading through Theodore, tearing apart the world that he clung to when he thought he had already been burned enough. It was crumbling into cinders, and he had yet to feel relief. At the same time, this destruction was an act of mercy. A kindness. Because for the first time in a long time, Theodore was given what he needed. A tough but enlightening lesson. A path to acceptance for what he had lost. But did it all come too late? And did he just ruin that by trying to kiss the man that was giving him this chance? God, why did he do it?
November 27, 2025 at 3:22 PM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#Bookvember
The Church of the Mountain of Flesh by Kyle Wakefield
An incredible trans cosmic horror starring a man that will do anything to get the body he wants. And I mean Anything.
Be it grief, his descent into madness, or his one-track minded pursuit, his narration sometimes distorts reality.
Book cover for The Church of the Mountain of Flesh by Kyle Wakefield
November 27, 2025 at 1:27 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
Catching up on #Bookvember
This year I read Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt. Normally, I don't read contemporary lit (not for any particular reason), but I was curious when my mom said she wanted to read it, and it surpassed my expectations and was an enjoyable read for me.
Book cover for Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt
November 27, 2025 at 1:14 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#Bookvember
The First to Die at the End by Adam Silvera
I love how this book and They Both Die at the End have New York City be such an integral part to the story, but you really feel it in the prequel. This book wouldn't be the same if it wasn't in NYC. It's its own entity.
Book cover of The First to Die at the End by Adam Silvera
November 27, 2025 at 1:07 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | System
From Love, Death, and Revolutions
Young Prince Lucian’s thoughts after he is given a book by his favorite writer. He becomes more knowledgeable about the ignored struggles of his father’s subjects.
After the next seventy pages of testimony from the people, observations of the ruling class, and the steps my father refused to take to relieve them of their pain, I was brought to tears. All this time, I was only valuing Oskar Reknas’ work for his craftsmanship in stories, never fully engaging with what his perspective truly brought to the world. He was an intelligent man, conscientious and generous with giving back the earnings he made off selling his works. And yet, he suffered just as harshly under the King’s purse, as well. I thought about Major Druiminn’s pleas and demands to my father as I read more testimonies. Farmers from all over Sunderland were afraid of losing their homes after their crop was blighted, some farms suffering after two—even three—horrible harvests with the same misfortune. And my father was ignoring them. I realised quickly that I was a part of this greater problem. My royal birth—my unearned benefits, wealth, and prestige—would always make it so that the people that looked to us for leadership, council, or relief would never thrive or sustain themselves. This was the system they were forced to live under, and it was beyond broken.
November 25, 2025 at 9:14 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WritingPrompt
Elias (the witch) trying a honey cake for the first time in WitchXHunter WIP 🍯
He likes it!
The witch was handed the little bundle. He squinted at the pastry and held it up. “What is it made of?” “It’s a honey cake,” he said. “Just honey, eggs, and flour.” “And… nothing else?” Sterling sighed. “I’m not poisoning you, witch.” The witch snickered at that. “If you truly thought that it would not cross my mind, you are more inept than I thought, hunter. Perhaps, I should have called upon someone more insightful to do my bidding.” His face flushed. “Do you know anyone?” “Fortunately for you, I don’t.” The witch hesitated before bringing the honey cake up to his mouth. He squinted at it and briefly sniffed it, and Sterling tried to stifle and snort while looking away. It made him pout. “What?” “Just eat the damn pastry.” His scowl morphed into a scowl. “You can’t blame me for being cautious.” After a moment, the witch took a small bite of it. He still squinted at the pastry while chewing. Sterling soon watched his eyes practically light up. He took another quick bite, a grin forming on his face. “Oh, by the Mother, this is delicious.”
November 24, 2025 at 7:49 PM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | I’m using a synonym for Debut today
🏳️‍⚧️ Elias in WitchXHunter WIP makes a discovery after healing the hunter’s (Sterling’s) wound.
Elias, after such a heavy draught of magic, was shaking. He tried to fight losing consciousness, but he could barely feel his legs. The realisation brought tears to his eyes. But he needed to focus. He needed to cover the wound and prevent infection before he could do the next round of healing. He made sure it was not fatal, that his organs were no longer failing, but his work was far from over. He mustered his remaining will and strength to pull the man’s shirt off from under him. His breathing stuttered after the effort. What caught his eye were scars under his pectorals. A pair of them mirrored each other, and Elias blinked in surprise. This was the first man he ever saw with such scars, and he found them to be quite beautiful. His own chest had a slight swell. He found no discomfort with his body after this long living in it, but he wondered if he would have liked his to be flat like this, as well. Regardless, he was grateful to the Mother for granting him his voice and less softness to his face. He brewed some tea, trying to rest while slumped against the wall. It would be a while yet, before the man would have the strength to wake up. In the meantime, he had to gather all the strength he had to quell his anger and give this witch hunter the mercy that was never shown to himself.
November 24, 2025 at 9:24 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
Second #AwesomeCharacters example is my character Lucian from my queer dark fantasy wip
He's got long auburn hair that he usually prefers styling into a braid.
In this drawing example however, it's down LOL (illustrated by me!)
Cropped illustration of a side profile of Lucian (he/him). He has freckled skin with dark scars shaped like lightning on his face and down to his shoulder. His long, auburn hair is down and getting into his face.
November 24, 2025 at 12:09 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#AwesomeCharacters
GASP!
I have two characters with really pretty hair (both from different stories lol)
First: Elias from WitchXHunter WIP has long, black hair with silver streaks. They're signs of the forest's decline, but he really rocks the look.
Here's with it approx. looks like via heroforge
November 24, 2025 at 12:09 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
Y'know when you're writing a scene where a character is down bad for a red flag and you know it's just gonna break their heart in the end but in the moment they're just too happy to care--
Reaction image of a black and white cat crying while covering its mouth with its paw
November 23, 2025 at 11:10 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
I quite enjoyed this excerpt I wrote in WitchXHunter WIP [with ALT text]
#WIP #amwriting #FirstDraftFall
The witch kept glancing back at him as they walked. He tucked some loose strands of his hair behind his ear. In the times that Sterling had been back here, they had not once reapproached the hovel. He had not seen his cat familiar again, either. He was always taken to a different area of the forest. Last week, he was shown a darker patch of wood in the south with several different types of trees. On this day, they were travelling northward. Sterling had never been this far north before, not even at the start of his hunting career. Just shy of this stretch of the treeline, he could see a vast mountain range out in the distance. They rolled across the field this far away, and he was startled by their current vantage point. They were on top of a cliff face. “This is the northern border.” The witch was looking towards the mountain range. “The forest’s natural end is here. So many acres had been lost over the centuries, but here?” He took a breath of the clean air. “This place has always remained untouched.” “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Sterling gasped. “And you never will.” He looked over. “Perhaps it will help you learn to appreciate magic better.” He rolled his eyes. “Magic has nothing to do with this view. This is all natural occurrences in nature.” “You take ‘magic’ too literally.” The witch went over to one of the trees that grew right near the edge of the cliff. He leaned against the trunk. “Magic is not just whatever you think witches conjure up. It’s a feeling. It can bring joy. It can give you a new perspective. It can be beautiful.” As he said it, Sterling watched a golden glow start from underneath the witch’s palm. It startled him, and he began to back away, but nothing sinister happened. From where he touched the tree, several vines began to sprout and tangle around the trunk. They slowly extended outwards, up towards the boughs. One extension had little flowers slowly bloom from it. “It breathes life into a world that takes it for granted.” The witch sighed, lowering his hand. “It breaks my heart to see so many want to destroy it.” Sterling observed him, saw how his eyes grew sad as he stared at the mountains. How could it be? How could this man appear more beautiful while this passionate? “Sometimes, certain magic isn’t meant to exist, witch.” The witch’s face fell, but he sighed, finally meeting his eye. “I can’t agree with you on that, Theodore.” “I suppose that’s something we can never agree on, then.” “Someday, I would hope to change your mind.”
November 22, 2025 at 9:10 PM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | Crystal
Sterling and the witch (Elias) try to figure out how to maintain a lie.
“I have to bring back your head,” he muttered, a last attempt to assert himself. “That is unfortunate,” the witch chuckled. “Perhaps, you could not get to my head. I was set on fire. My remains were charred, unrecognisable. It is not adequate proof.” “I will need to bring back something, witch.” “This ‘witch’ has a name,” he muttered. “Wait here.” Sterling grimaced once the witch’s back was turned. He should take this as a chance. He could reach out and strangle him. But after all the other failed attempts, he knew it would all be for naught. Instead, he watched as the witch reached the foot of his pallet bed. Crouching down, he was looking through a small box within a crate. When he came back, he was holding a necklace glittering with different stones and minerals. “Take this back with you,” he said, setting the necklace in his hand. “That should be proof enough.” Sterling tested the weight of it in his hand, watching sunlight reflect off the stones. “It will be, once I set it on fire.” “Wait.” The witch blanched. “Why?” “If I set you on fire, then presumably you were wearing this. My employer would not believe me if this was unharmed.” “You would desecrate this beautiful necklace for a lie?” Sterling rolled his eyes. “It is just a bunch of stones. It’s not the end of the world.” “They are not just ‘stones,’ you fool. They are crystals from geodes.” He squinted. “Any other strange witchcraft iconography that you should warn me about?” He puffed his cheeks, quickly taking the necklace back. “Here.” He swapped it out with some tattered rags. “These, then.”
November 22, 2025 at 10:18 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | direction
Sterling gets confronted by a man (Tristan) that is concerned about his missing [boy]friend. And as it turns out, lying about killing the witch may have consequences.
This scene may get cut, but it's my favorite excerpt with this prompt word in it 👀
“Inquisitor Sterling?” Sterling glanced towards the direction of the voice, having to tilt his head up. A rather tall, broad man was standing in front of him, and he looked terrible. His green eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was unkempt. Even his beard was going scraggly. “Is there something I can help you with?” “Do you have a moment?” the man mumbled. “I feel that your help is owed to me.” Sterling frowned. “I beg your pardon?” “My friend.” He said the title with a curt tone. “Avery Miller. He is missing. And I need your help.” “That is a matter you’ll have to take to the local guards,” he sighed. “Your friend going missing is none of my concern.” “It is your concern, Inquisitor.” Sterling blanched when the large man moved closer with his fists clenched. He stood stark still, even as the man stopped just a couple inches from his face. “Because he went into the wood to clean up your mess,” the big man snapped. “You are a liar and a sham. You didn’t do your job.”
November 21, 2025 at 3:44 PM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#QueerPrompts
A snippet from WitchXHunter WIP
The primary motivation for Theodore Sterling's internal conflict is to avenge the family he had lost. However, he has gone about it the wrong way.
There was still silence. Elias’ shoulders were tense, for he was not sure if the hunter was going to ambush him yet again. He heard a sigh in the middle of his work, but his eyes were beginning to water. Such cruelty. Such callousness. Such little regard for anyone around him. How could a man live that way? He never wanted to be around such a person ever again. This hunter represented the worst of the world. The sooner that this man left his forest, the better off he would be. “A witch put a curse on my family.” Elias stopped, slowly turning to look over at Theodore again. He had his head down as he was wringing his hand. “That’s why I chose this path in life,” he continued. “Some ancestor of mine a few generations back made a deal with a witch. And thirteen years ago, that deal was considered broken. So, I had to pay the price.” He frowned. Perhaps this was where some of that pain where he first found him was from? He started to lower his guard, much to his own chagrin. “I am sorry…” That still did not change anything. “I never wanted anyone else to go what I went through ever again.” Theodore finally looked up. “I did not consider the, erm… the consequences that you enlightened me on today. I did not think about my targets beyond the fact that I was doing my job.” Elias sighed. “Then, you need to figure out what exactly you are trying to fight against,” he said. “You are not absolved just because you finally said that aloud. And you will never get whatever satisfaction you need by destroying all magic, Theodore.” “I suppose not.” Theodore started to lean against the pallet bed, but Sage gave him a warning hiss which made him decide against it.
November 21, 2025 at 3:34 PM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WeeknightWriters
My queer dark fantasy series WIP, The Art of Malignance [18+], is available to read on Ao3!
Includes moral ambiguity, rich internal conflict, necromancy, and several queer MCs trying to survive in a world that's slowly falling apart around them.
archiveofourown.org/series/4923589
Welcome to the continent of Vrissa, where we center on the Kingdom of Sunderland and The Brømkhaldic Territories. Here, we follow several people navigating a world that is falling apart around them. Dark magic is bringing waste to the land, crops are dying, livestock is declining, and people are disappearing. Among such people surviving are Tobias Druiminn, Prince Lucian of Sunderland, Lieutenant Declan Sutharlan, Sergeant Mícheil Dunaidh, and Auðunar "The Butcher" Thrandsson. The Art of Malignance is an original concept. The story itself is an LGBTQIA+ dark fantasy romance series revolving around multiple narrating characters with queer rep (gay, bisexual, demisexual, pansexual characters, endgame M/M/M polycule), trans rep, and disability rep (neurodivergence, mobility, chronic pain, chronic migraines). It has a necromancy-themed give-and-take magic system and the consequences of said magic system. It delves into topics like grief, trauma, sexuality, and the effects of brainwashing.
November 21, 2025 at 1:54 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | third
Avery has a strange reaction to iron in WitchXHunter WIP
cw for burn injury
A pit in his stomach began to form once he was close enough to the iron. There was always something about the metal that bothered him. He did not like the look of it. But they were a constant around the village. It was something he needed to get used to. But if he was honest with himself, he found himself not wanting to touch it. He did not have a choice this time. He sighed, gathering up some courage. “All right.” He rolled his sleeves up. “We just need to straighten you out. That’s not too terrible.” Avery reached out his hands towards the first iron stake. He would have to take it out of the ground and re-level it with his stone mallet. As soon as he touched the stake, however, it was hot to the touch. His skin hissed at the contact. With a pained gasp, he flinched his hand back right away, taking hold of his wrist. His palm and fingers were bright red. It was a warm day. Metal often got hot out in the sun. He tried again, more prepared for the heat. Deep breaths. Just grab the stake and straighten it out. When he tried again, it did not just burn this time. It was agony trying to fight through the pain. He kept trying to bite back cries of pain. His hand was burning. But still, he had to fix the fence. He had to take care of the stakes. He was in tears by the time he tried to take care of the third one. After that, he could not take the pain anymore. His hand was trembling, and there were several blisters on his hand. He was not imagining things. That iron was far too hot. These kinds of burns occurred when in contact with fire. His eyes began to water. What was he to do? He had to finish his work. What would Reverend Pryce do to punish him? What would Eden Hollow do if they saw his hand? What would Father say? After all, people did not get burns from iron.
November 19, 2025 at 3:54 PM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | Spend
Avery realizes that it’s been a year since his relationship with Tristan began.
He remembered when he first started developing feelings for Tristan. He and Lawrence were friends, both of them being the same age and frequenting places together with the other boys. Avery was always left behind, always told that he would get in the way. But Tristan never did. In fact, whenever the elder brothers and their friends teased him, Tristan stayed on his side. “Leave him be,” he would tell them. “You’d best stop being cruel to him. One day, he’ll grow up and fight back.” Avery never forgot that. And as he grew and matured, he found himself wanting to spend less time with his brothers but more time wanting to see Tristan. After the Sabbath service, he would take a moment to talk to him, sometimes just to say “hello.” And Tristan would always smile. And after a few months of this, Avery received his first gift. It was a wooden doll, and it was the first small carving that Tristan had ever tried to whittle. He had gotten much better since then, but Avery still had that first doll. In fact, he still had every trinket that he was ever given. He kept them hidden in his chest where Father would not find them. It was a year ago, to the day, that Tristan first kissed Avery. He followed him out to the Elder Grove after Avery was wrought with grief over Father’s ever present disappointment in him. Tristan held him, comforted him, and it started out with a soft kiss to his hair. From there, Avery had turned to him and met him with a kiss of his own, shy and hesitant. And he had been smitten with Tristan ever since.
November 17, 2025 at 9:28 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#WIPSnips | Run
From WitchXHunter WIP
Sterling returns to town after everyone presumed he died trying to go after the witch.
cw for misgendering
Reverend Pryce was the first to notice him, and he stood rigid. “Inquisitor Sterling?” “Aye.” Sterling dipped his head respectfully. “I have returned from my task.” “You look terrible, Inquisitor.” One of the elders watched him with a frown. “Had a terrible run-in with that blasted witch, I see.” “Quite terrible.” He grimaced when holding up the necklace. “I barely escaped with my life. I had to take drastic measures to ensure I finished the job.” Reverend Pryce squinted at the jewellery. He approached. “What is this?” “Proof. The witch was wearing this.” “I asked for her head, Inquisitor,” he frowned. Theodore felt his hair prickle at the back of his neck. The people of Eden Hollow had to have known that the witch was a man. After all the encounters and witness testimonies, as well as what he knew from the minister’s letter. Yet they were the ones that let Sterling believe falsely that Elias was a woman. He knew how wretchedly painful it was to have people not properly address him as a man. The idea of keeping this up, even if it is just to preserve that he knew nothing more about the witch that how it felt to kill him, had his stomach twisting in knots.
November 16, 2025 at 11:43 AM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#Bookvember
Gothic horror is one of my favorite subgenres. And Frankenstein is my favorite book of all time.
All the reasons why can't fit in 1 post. To keep it brief, it could've stayed a cautionary tragedy to not chase an obsession
Then the creature tells his story, and everything changed.🧵 (1/11)
Book cover of Frankenstein by Mary Shelley.
November 15, 2025 at 8:12 PM
theeldervampire.bsky.social
#Novmemeber
One-room rustic stone hovel with an open concept campsite. Comes with healthy berry bushes and access to the water supply just a quick walk from the property.
Pros: cozy interior to fit your cottagecore needs
Cons: No door and intrusive neighbors that may mistake you for a witch
Pencil drawing of a campsite with a stone hovel and scattered trees and bushes. There is smoke coming out of a chimney, and a water basin is nearby.
November 15, 2025 at 4:23 PM