I Write Stories!

About me!

He/him but sprinkle in some they/them if you're feeling spicy (this could/will probably change once I get a firmware update)

Writer who focuses on balancing angst and fluff because they're two sides of the same coin! I mean, the coin is rusty and dented but it's still good currency!

Adult (and dreading it)

POC! Queer! And well-adjusted!

I wanna write a book someday! Or maybe a text adventure / visual novel! But I can't draw! Stick figures elude me lol

My Fandoms!

My current brain rot is In Stars and Time. My previous brain rot was/is the Owl House. My always brain rot is Star Trek. Haven't written anything for Trek yet. Someday 😎

Stories I've written!

A bunch! Here's my A03! I don't write AUs but I love exploring post-canon for any IPs.

If you're looking for a good entry story to my ISAT canon, check out A Shade of Slumber. Insomnia and trauma and all the other good things!

If the Owl House interests you, check out Count The Dark. Time travel, depression, unending guilt, and a light at the end of a tunnel!

My best long-form story is either Seventy-Four, Seventy-Five (ISAT) or The Magic Goes Away (the Owl House). If you're brave and daring and patient maybe you'd like those too!

Frequently asked questions!

"are you really a spider?"

Yes!

"is criticism okay?"

Absolutely! Constructive criticism is incredibly important for a writer.

"can I dm you?"

Yes, but only if you're comfortable doing so! I take any opportunity to chat about my silly stories, I'm a very social person sometimes 😁

“Hmm.” Bonnie doesn’t sound convinced. “Maybe. Nille says I should talk to her more too. But, it’s hard!! Talking is dumb, we should be doing fun stuff. Like cooking! Or swimming!”

“Or hunting crabs?”

They pump their tiny fist in the air, “Yeah!! Plus, everything you’re saying doesn’t make any sense at all.”

You thought you were getting through to them. You blink.

“I mean, look,” They point to their bare arm, “I don’t have sleeves! Dumbfrin!!” They shove you a little and you dramatically flop over into the sand. Your entire metaphor! Foiled by their tanktop! Calamity!

“Hey!” They hop up and shake your side, “Don’t you die on me! I gotta cook this stupid crab for you!!”

You dramatically roll your tongue out of your mouth and play dead.

“Fine!” Bonnie pouts, “Guess you’re not getting any birthday dinner!”

Your whole torso flings upward, “A miracle!” You shout, “I’m alive!”

“SHHH!!!” Bonnie smacks you with a shush, they’re looking over the rock you’ve been hiding behind. They point toward your trap and whisper excitedly, “Look!!”

Ha ha! You know this one, you actually know it! It's the birthday you chose for yourself! With a small smile that doesn't hide any lost memories, you say, “September 1st!”

Nille starts to write the date but freezes and looks up at you. The whole table is looking at you. Jaws are dropped. Eyebrows are furrowed. You… said something wrong? Or, did you say something and then immediately forget what you were talking about?

You pivot and say, “I, uh, I can pick a better day? Instead of S-September 1st?”

“SIFFRIN!?!?” Everyone shouts your name. The cacophony of noise is overwhelming as they each berate you for your obvious mistakes. You duck into your collar and close your eye tight. Don’t shiver, don’t shiver, don’t shiver-

“Siffrin, why didn’t you say something?!” Mirabelle asks, you can hear her frowning outside the safety and lightlessness of your eyelid.

“Maybe they forgot!” Bonnie shouts with a slightly hurtful chuckle.

Pétronille scolds them, “Don’t be mean, Bon. Now we know, and that’s all that matters. Right, Siffrin?”

…Yeah, now they know. Truthfully, you just thought it wasn’t important. You poke up from your hiding place and carefully open your eye. They’re all staring at you and you want to duck back down. The softness of Isa’s voice keeps your head above water, as it so often does.

“Sif! Tell us, what do you normally do on your birthday?”

That’s a good question. You hum and purse your lips, your eye trails upward in absent thought. You scan your brain for recent birthdays and say, “Well, first I find stuff in my pockets to eat…” You tilt your head to the side, “And then I take a nap…” With a bright smile, you look at Isabeau and exclaim, “...Until I get a headache!”

-

You nod, “Yeah. I’m good.” And you feel good, too. Just slow down. Listen to the sound of her voice instead of your own, tucked away behind that ever-present tone in your ears.

“Promise me you’ll say something if you want me to stop.”

A short laugh escapes you, “I promise. Not like I can hide my stupid body’s reactions, anyway.”

As Mirabelle goes back to your braid, she pouts, “Your body’s not stupid!”

You tease her, “If my body’s not stupid, then it’s my mind right?”

“NO!!” She doesn’t shout but instead speaks very firmly.

“Well, it’s gotta be one or the other!”

“It’s neither! It’s-” She scowls at you, looking straight ahead in the mirror at your smirk, “One of these days I’m gonna tease you back and there’ll be nothing you can do about it.”

That’ll be the day. And you’re looking forward to that day! Because you’ll be living with her! Probably won’t feel real until you get back to the house, the brand new house that the whole town built for Bonnie. And for-

“Ow!”

-

The front door jostles from the outside, doorknob wiggling in place. Someone's trying to get inside! You whip around as your heart gallops beneath your chest and you blindly reach for the nearest weapon, a frying pan will do, and-

“Woah, hey!” Tasha has her hand on your shoulder, “It's okay, Pété. I invited them!”

The wiggling doorknob stills and the person outside knocks instead, “Pétronille? Sorry, I forgot you lock your door. No judgement! …Okay, just a little judgement. Not weird at all!”

That sounds like Ori? The chief of your construction crew? Your boss? What are they doing here? You put down the frying pan and take deep breaths. 

Now everyone is awake, save Bonnie who’s assumedly asleep in their room. Odile groggily asks, “Shall I shoo them away? This feels like a real get off my lawn moment.” She snickers. 

You thank her for the offer but now that you've calmed down you can answer the door without a weapon in your hand. Goes against every instinct in your body, your skin is crawling and your palms itch. But, Ori is safe. They always have been. What could they want so early in the morning? 

You open the door and see-

You blink and lean back. Ori smiles before you, and behind them is… Everyone? 

Ori’s brought the entire construction crew with them, armed to the teeth with wrenches and hammers (and of course Inella brought the blasting equipment, she never leaves home without it) and every tool under the sun? Next to Ori is their wife, Rhoda, the town apothecary? And there’s Mallow the grocer? Arloe the postwoman? Nurse Ogawa, the Housemaiden that administered your hearing test? (you had some unkind things to say to her yesterday morning. Why is she here, or any of them?) A bunch of other Housemaidens? Yatorence the shopkeep? Alannia the baker?

And… Half the town?!? Their names all come to you at once, there must be at least a hundred people on your doorstep!! You feel the Saviors crowd around your back, they’re just as confused as you are.

“Bonnie!” You shout and scream as you run through the forest. Fruitless, they’re nowhere to be found and the trees are closing in. Your hands hold the bloodied hammer illuminated by moonlight, and your body drifts away in the breeze. You have to find them. Nothing else matters.

At last the wind drops you in the burning sands, your feet ache and swell but you have to keep running. The shoreline is seared by the boiling sea but if you squint at the waterline you can see it: A ship floating on the waves.

Bonnie stands in the crow’s nest, waving frantically. You look through your monocular and see them smiling as they wave. As clear as day, they shout to you, “It’s just a fishing boat! I’m fine, see!” And they jump off the high mast to dive into the sea.

The ocean splashes so high and a tidal wave careens toward you, swallowing you up. You cough and sputter and your ears become waterlogged. Your vision is darkened and you hold your breath. Dim lights slowly pulse in the distance, so you swim toward them as hard and as fast as you can manage.

And a light gets closer and your lungs tighten and you can’t breath and you gasp for air and- you… you can breathe? That means you can scream!

“Bonnie!!! Where are you!!”

_

The veins in your arms are still throbbing. Every muscle in your neck is stiff. You want to burst out of your skin and scream. Maybe you will, soon.

You carried Bonnie all the way home from the lighthouse, gently holding them close and shushing them. Their face was scrunched and their breaths were erratic. But, at least they're asleep. Stirring, dreaming and struggling. You put them to bed and asked Tasha to keep an eye on them while you interrogated the Saviors. Time to get to the bottom of this.

As you exit Bonnie’s bedroom you're greeted by the people you were starting to trust. People you still trust. Your chest is tearing, ribcage pulling apart in two different directions. They ask all at once,

“Is Bonnie alright?”

“Boniface, are they-”

“What happened? Sif explained but I-I don’t understand.”

You hold up your hand to stop them. Fiery breaths fume from your nostrils. Twisting your words out from the gnarled roots in your throat, you command them all, “Sit down.”

They oblige. Odile sits at the head of the dining room table, notebook open and pencil in hand. Isabeau and Mirabelle plant themselves on the couch. He's twiddling his thumbs and she's biting her nails. Siffrin stands at the open backdoor. He's staring out to the careening waves and the static outline at the edge of the horizon. A tear where an island should be. He doesn’t sit.

“Hey!” You call out to him firmly, “I don’t care what’s out there. Sit. Down.”

-

Tasha itches her cheek and whispers in your ear, “Don’t I get a kiss, Pété?”

You roll your eyes and quietly say, “No, I’m still mad at you.” You’re not.

“No you’re not.” She leans her head onto your shoulder and delicately asks, “Um… is Bonnie home yet?”

You nod toward the open backdoor. Tasha leans and looks inside, practically beaming at the sight of Siffrin and Bonnie as they cuddle on the couch in a blissful nap. (Could you imagine if you saw this yesterday?) Tasha grabs your shoulder with her big hand and shakes you as she desperately bites back a squeal. You lightly smack her arm to shush her and she just shakes you harder. Stopping herself from bouncing in place, she seems almost as excited as you were when you first saw Bonnie and the saviors walking up the beach yesterday.

…That was only yesterday. Your ears ring a little, the left one more than the right. Tiredness washes over you like a wave. Tasha’s still shaking you, though. They can’t take their eyes off your sibling. She’s gonna start crying. Then you’ll start crying. Less loudly.

With the grace of an ox, Tasha wraps you up in a tight embrace. Under her breath, desperate to scream, she whispers, “They’re okay!!”

“They’re okay!” You mimic with a smile. It’s true, and you’re still amazed by that fact, but you’d like to not be crushed. (Still, you missed Tasha even if she wasn’t gone very long.)

(Do you think she’ll be proud of you?)

(For opening up to the saviors so quickly?)

(After the years it took to open up to her?)

(...)

(She won’t be angry, right?)

You can’t think about it, no time - she grabs your cheeks and presses her soft lips against yours. You stifle a moan, your heart is thundering. How easily she makes you feel like a giddy schoolgirl. If she could break down your walls, of course Bonnie and their new family could as well.