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danteatlas.bsky.social
Dante Atlas
@danteatlas.bsky.social
1.5K followers 360 following 370 posts
Romantasy Author | 28yr old | He/They | Disabled | Transman | Small Town Washington Native
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danteatlas.bsky.social
#WIPSnips June 18th - Sheet
There was no point, Winifred had gotten away and Garret was going to be angry with him for being so reckless and stupid. Henry would never forgive him for getting in the way of his victory. Not to mention the pain that was spreading through his skull with every second that passed. “Alistair!” Was it Garret’s voice or Carmine’s? He couldn’t tell anymore. “C’mon, lad, say somethin’.” It was definitely Garret, who was holding him in his arms and shaking him, trying to get him to come back to consciousness. “I’m okay, I’m fine,” Alistair mumbled back, blinking as his vision returned blurry and spotted. His head throbbed and he reached his hand to touch where Winifred had struck him over and over. When he pulled his hand back in front of his eyes his finger tips were stained with blood. “You’re not fine.” Margot argued, standing over him with her arms crossed, “you took about five strikes to the head, you’re lucky you’re not dead. Your brain could be bleeding right now, and we’d have no idea until you’re flat on your back.” Buck was white as a sheet, looking between the three of them and waiting for someone to explain. “W-was that Winifred Everborn?” He looked at Margot, his eyes widening as he realized the missing piece in the puzzle. “You’re Margot, her daughter. Why was she attacking? What did you do?” “We’ll explain when we get out of here, any camp supplies Winifred left behind in her hurry we should take, she won’t come back for ‘em.” Garret carefully stood and pulled Alistair up with him, supporting the younger man by holding his arm across his shoulders. “We should put out her fire too, make sure we don’t let it burn the whole forest down.” Alistair struggled to stay up right, even with Garret helping him, the pounding of his head got worse with every step, and it felt like he was wading deeper and deeper into a fog. Over and over he could hear Buck’s accusation. What did you do? Wouldn’t it be nice to know?
June 18, 2025 at 8:32 PM
danteatlas.bsky.social
#WIPSnips June 17th - Famous (popular)

Sometimes you find the enemy you're looking for in a masquerade. Sometimes you stumbled into an enemy looking for you.
In his determination to keep an eye out, Alistair nearly knocked over someone else as they passed by. Their drink sloshed dangerously in the thin glass flute they were drinking from as a yelp of surprise burst out of their mouth. “Watch where you’re going! You nearly got wine on my suit!” “Sorry, I didn’t mean—” Mid apology, he caught sight of a small detail on the man’s mask. The same symbol that had been so popular in Red Fort, a singular, angular, gold eye peered at him from the stranger’s cheek. Alistair straightened his back and began again, “I’m looking out for a friend of mine, I didn’t mean to cause any problems.” The light eyes behind the strangely decorated mask blinked. Now that Alistair was looking at all of it, it was covered in eyes. Were they supposed to be a spider, or a monster? “The night’s only just begun, a little early to be so careless.” “It’s our first party,” Ignatius cut in, his voice staying smooth and even despite the circumstance, “my partner is just excited, aren’t you? How many masquerades have you been to that you can keep yourself composed so easily?” Well, it had been a good run, but certainly now this stranger, this follower of the father, was going to strike them down where they stood. Alistair was certain of it. But they didn’t draw their weapon, or cast a spell. Instead they laughed and smiled. “I’ve been to three masques, though never one here. It’s a special occasion.” They carefully swirled their unspilt wine and stepped back, giving the pair a wider berth to pass. “I suppose there was no harm, my mistake.” Ignatius offered them a little bow- which Alistair emulated quickly and without complaint- and a wide smile of his own. “I think it is easy to get caught up in your emotions on a day like today.” He leaned into the arm of the man accompanying him, squeezing his hand a little tighter. “Thank you for your understanding.”
June 17, 2025 at 5:45 PM
danteatlas.bsky.social
#WIPSnips

Lionel tells Alistair several hard truths in this chapter, the hardest for him to swallow is that his parents victory against The Father of Dragons was not as clear cut as he imagined it. But his mother, Ada, was never afraid until they turned up at her father's door.
“So it seems we’ve both got a few questions for each other.” Lionel had steady hands. They didn’t shake even a little as he poured them each a cup of tea from an ornate looking pot. “We were never very close, but you learn a thing or two when you save the world together.” “I’ve never met her family, do you know anything about them?” The mayor pursed his lips, carefully taking his cup and the accompanying saucer in his hand as he sat in a chair near the short end of the table. “I know her father was still alive when we went to Crooked Ridge. She didn’t have any siblings, and her mother had long passed.” He wrinkled up his nose. “I remember that her father didn’t come to the party thrown in her honor there.” “She dragged all six of us to go find him in the rundown shack that she grew up in,” he recalled, stirring in a few spoonfuls of sugar into his tea, “All of Crooked Ridge was like that, falling apart and rotten. It was never supposed to be a long-term settlement, but the people were hardy.” Lionel paused to take a sip of his drink. “I’d never seen Ada afraid of anything. Not when The Father dropped half our team, not when she almost died herself, but as she stood in front of her father’s door, holding her hand out to knock without moving…” “She almost died?” Alistair’s brow pinched together as he stirred his own sugar in with a touch of the cream from the tray. “We all did.” The mayor’s gaze hardened and raised to the wall. “I’m still not sure how we made it. Some nights I still expect to find this is all a dream I’ve woven for myself before I breathe my last.” His eyes fluttered rapidly for a moment before he looked at Alistair again. “But I never wake up.”
June 16, 2025 at 5:56 PM
danteatlas.bsky.social
Quick writing accountability post before midnight! I've been struggling with migraines and a bunch of other stuff going on, but I wrote today! Yay!
48,426 words (total) | 1,523 words (today)
June 16, 2025 at 6:21 AM
danteatlas.bsky.social
#WIPSnips June 12th - Respect

A short feud between brothers today.
It drove Alistair to slam his hands on the table, clenching his fists against the wood grain as he bowed his head to shield his eyes. He’d had such a good grasp on his anger, and now it felt like Henry was digging at his ribs, trying to get a reaction. That was how this all started anyhow. Was Henry trying to provoke him into doing something stupid? A deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. “I think that there’s only one way to find out, and that you don’t have to be there if you don’t want to be.” Acceptance was the only way out of this now, as he raised his eyes to his brother’s. The eyes of a dangerous stranger. “If you don’t want to hear from me again after this, I’ll respect that. Fine.” Henry blinked slowly, resting both his elbows on the table. “I can’t imagine a world where I’d ever want to see you again after this.” He looked down at where Alistair’s hands had connected with the table and back to his face again, his dark eyes bouncing from feature to feature as though looking for something. “Not that I think you can survive without me.”
June 12, 2025 at 6:09 PM
danteatlas.bsky.social
#WIPSnips June 11th-Match

Just before the masquerade Alistair realizes he and Ignatius have accidentally matched their outfits. Alistair is dressed as the moon, Ignatius is dressed as a starry owl.
Ignatius cleared his throat from further down the hallway, waving a gloved hand. “Looks like we match.” He was also dressed in something resembling the night sky, but the mask on his face donned carved feathers. “What luck.” The lilt in his voice made it difficult to tell if he was teasing Alistair or not. He looked positively dashing with his hair loosely braided and pulled back away from the owl mask that adorned his face. The dark colors of a midnight sky made his eyes look like stars. Beneath his mask he had so carefully applied some lipstick to his mouth in a similar shade of blue, completely covered his upper lip and striping down the center of his lower lip. “Wow-” The youngest of the group struggled not to let his companions hear the wind get knocked from his lungs. “-Ignatius, you look…” He cleared his throat and looked away, anywhere else but the elf’s soft lips. “Well, you look great.” Ignatius grinned under his mask, his chin tucking into his chest as he allowed himself a moment to play it coy. “Well, your honeyed words are most appropriate, on this, the day of our reckoning.”
June 11, 2025 at 3:40 PM
danteatlas.bsky.social
Writing accountability post!

Oh we're hitting the stride now, folks, here we gooooooo!!!
45,697 words (total) | 1,934 words (today)
June 11, 2025 at 6:53 AM
danteatlas.bsky.social
“Before this is all put into motion and we can’t stop it, I need to talk to you.”
June 10, 2025 at 2:33 PM
danteatlas.bsky.social
#WIPSnips June 10th

Ignatius and Alistair share a moment's reprieve before the masquerade, where each member of the party will take revenge against the same woman. Nerves are setting in, but it's probably not just murder on Alistair's mind.
A gentle hand found the small of his back, an intimate gesture he wouldn’t expect of anyone in their little group. As he turned to bark a particularly nasty set of expletives at whoever put their grubby hands on his body, he realized it was Ignatius. His jaw snapped shut, preventing the flood of what was probably going to be a truly atrocious accusation and cleared his throat. The elf stared at him from behind the mask that obscured from his forehead just past his nose. His gaze was knowing and slightly judgmental if the long, slow blinking was anything to go by. “It’s going to be a nightmare of a party if you start going off on everyone who touches you, Alistair.” Ignatius’s dry humor always managed to pry a chuckle from within his chest, even if he didn’t want it to. “Try not to look like you’re going to rip someone’s arm off if they bump into you.” “Bumping into me is a bit different than directing me with a hand so close to my ass,” the human man argued as they walked, “you’re lucky that I like you enough to give you a warning. I could have gone straight to arm ripping.” They settled onto a bench against one of the walls, behind some shrubbery. Ignatius folded his hands in his lap as he watched each of their companions file in after them while Alistair rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. “Nervous?” His yellow irises caught Alistair’s eyes as they peaked from the corners of the mask. He hummed affirmatively. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous in all my life, I feel sick.” “Everyone feels that way,” the mage assured, “they’re just better at hiding it. You wear all your feelings on your face, even half covered.”
June 10, 2025 at 12:57 PM
danteatlas.bsky.social
#WIPSnips June 8th-Glare

Alistair and Henry are alone for the first time in weeks where they change for the harvest masquerade. It's at the masquerade that they will finally avenge their mother's death or die trying.

Maybe.
Henry was dressed in red, orange and yellow. There were less details to be had, certainly, but the fabric was just as rich. It also shifted under the lights, and instead of a cape he wore a top hat that hid most of his lack of hair. “You look nice,” Alistair mumbled softly, “it suits you.” The elder of the two brothers turned to look at him over his shoulder. It was a sharp glare that softened when he realized Alistair was, in fact, being sincere. “Thanks, you look good too.” The mask that went with Henry’s outfit was ornate and covered about half his face, from his forehead to the tip of his nose. Whatever material that had been used to make it was carefully painted gold. Filigree and cloud like motifs spread along the edges, but at the center was the masks truth. Between the eyes, above the bridge of his brother’s nose was sculpted rays of sunlight. Henry had always been the light. His own mask also covered about half his face, but it was an odder shape. It seemed Margot, or maybe Garret, had planned this. Where Henry dressed as the sun, Alistair was the moon. Protruding from the traditional half face shape was a crescent, painted an off-white. The rest of the mask reflected his outfit, darkly colored with stars scattered along the moon’s edge. “It ends tonight,” He heard Henry sigh as he hung a sword from his hip, “one way or another, it ends tonight.”
June 8, 2025 at 9:49 AM
danteatlas.bsky.social
Happy five years of Zagreus! He's just a baby...
An image of a black cat with wide green eyes and a red collar.
June 7, 2025 at 4:44 PM
danteatlas.bsky.social
#WIPSnips June 7th - Written

Margot and Alistair are on their way to do a necromancy ritual, instructed by a journal left in Alistair's care.
“So, what’s the ritual anyway?” Margot wondered, keeping her voice low so hopefully no one would overhear. “Are you going to get possessed? Should I be worried?” Alistair turned the clear crystal over in his hand. “No, nothing like that, I think it’s just to speak to the spirits following me.” He’d read the page before bed, and three times when he woke up, but it all seemed gibberish to him. It didn’t help that Lionel’s hand writing was quick and shaky, as though he had written the words in a fit of panic instead of after a rousing success. “There’s a few, I guess.” “Of course there are.” The half-elf kicked a pebbled down the sidewalk, watching it disappear into a crowd walking toward them. “You’re the unluckiest man I’ve ever met, you know that?” “I think the goddess over that dominion cursed all our families before she died.” It got a little laugh out of her at least, and he couldn’t help chuckling himself as they made their way toward their rented practice room. “I’m glad you’re here, just in case.” “And you were going to try and do this all by yourself!” Margot shook her head. “I’ll never understand how you and Henry think you can do all these things alone. Everyone needs help, you know.” “Maybe it’s a human thing, maybe that’s why you don’t get it.” He smiled down at her and she rolled her eyes. “Ah, the dustling proclivity toward self destruction strikes again.”
June 7, 2025 at 11:23 AM
danteatlas.bsky.social
Writing Accountability Post

God this is going so slow and I don't know why. I'm having a hard time, maybe because this is the second book of the trilogy, maybe because I still have a lot to do for the first book. It is what it is, progress is progress!
41,324 words (total) | 1,157 words (today)
June 6, 2025 at 4:36 AM
danteatlas.bsky.social
#SFFChat Q4

This is a first draft, so it's still a little messy. Ignatius is teaching Alistair to dance for the masquerade in a week, and Alistair is having some feelings about it. He's technically spoken for at this point (for now), but Ignatius is so pretty and nice to him and he's panicking.
Ignatius sighed in exasperation and rolled his eyes. “You’re right, of course, dancing.” He clapped his hands together and the leather made for a loud, satisfying clap. “First you should bow to your partner, the partner who is following bows first.” It didn’t click for Alistair at first that the mage was implying he should be bowing. It was an awkward, unpracticed bow, but it worked. It even made his dancing partner laugh and cover his teeth with his hands. “Alright, we’ll work on that next!” He boldly declared before bowing himself. The elf made it look easy, stepping forward slightly and bending at the waist with his hand over his chest. “You have no idea what you’re doing, so you’ll follow my lead.” Ignatius hovered his right hand in the air. “This one starts with walking in circles, so put your palm against mine-” When Alistair continued to watch and not move he leaned forward, took the man’s arm and showed him exactly where to put his hand. “-like this. And we step on beat.” “In a circle.” The human man repeated. They were fairly close now, and he had to look him in his eyes the whole time. It felt invasive, he’d heard before that the eyes were windows to one’s soul. He could not look into Ignatius’ eyes without him staring back, picking through his brain via his expression. “Right!” Ignatius started to count, marking out the beat with the heel of his boots before they started to spin. “One and two and three. One and two and three.” When he was sure Alistair must have had it they started to circle one another, palms, fingers, and forearms pressed flat against each other. “We do this for six beats, and then we change directions.”
June 6, 2025 at 12:10 AM
danteatlas.bsky.social
3/?

I would say Elise is nonbinary, she doesn't have the language for it because orcs in this universe have MORE rigid gender roles than humans. You can change your gender, swap roles, but you are locked into the roles assigned to your gender. That's why she left home.
Elise, a copper skinned orc, is drawn on a journal page with small berries, a coffee bean, leaves, and a heart. She has dark hair, shoulder length hair that is shaved on her right side and light blue eyes as well as tusks protruding over her upper lip.
June 5, 2025 at 11:36 PM
danteatlas.bsky.social
2/?

We're starting with Sinew because I've got a lot of art of her in general. Sinew is a goblin, she's tiny, she's a lesbian. She's immature and funny and her friends love her so much. Goblins don't have a rigid sense of gender like humans do, so she doesn't categorize herself in that way.
Sinew, a red goblin with black markings meant to evoke a red poisoned dart frog, stands proudly in front of a canvas painted orange white and pink like a lesbian pride flag. The paint is all over the floor and her clothes, but there's a large amount on her hands as though she finger painted her art piece or maybe used her entire hand to slap paint to canvas.
June 5, 2025 at 11:23 PM
danteatlas.bsky.social
#WIPSnips June 5th-Point

Oh this is a REALLY GOOD snip imo. Alistair and Margot are confronting Winifred for the first time since she killed Alistair's mother.
“Get Garret,” Margot urged Alistair over her shoulder, “get him and Henry.” “I’m not leaving you here, are you crazy?” Alistair brought up his fists, there was no point in wasting the edge of his blade against the flesh-turned-stone of Winifred. “She’ll kill you!” “She was always going to.” The firmness of his childhood friend’s words, the certainty made his stomach turn. “Go, quickly, before she kills you too.” She wasn’t looking at him anymore, staring at her mother. “Don’t make me die for nothing.” But when Winifred started to leap forward toward Margot it felt like everything began to move in slow motion. He watched Margot throw her spear and begin to push away from the spot she had been standing. The spear was off target because Winifred knew her daughter, she was chasing her to her new position and all Alistair could think was that he needed to get between them. He had to stop Winifred from making contact and hurting Margot, he would never forgive himself if she got hurt coming to save him. He had to protect her. The hero’s son moved as fast as he could, planting his feet between Margot and Winifred’s path. He held his arms in front of his chest, crossing them to better cover his ribs where she was going to make contact. Better him than Margot. He felt his skin crawling, the surge in his chest, but somehow he didn’t expect the moment Winifred connected with him to feel like nothing at all. As though the nerves in his arms had died. The full weight of her body sent him skidding back, and the sound was a horrible crack like two boulders colliding. Margot screamed his name, but he didn’t turn to look. He swung his fist and realized it had morphed just like Winifred’s. Stone, cracks into his flesh that revealed no blood, no bone, he was the stone.
June 5, 2025 at 7:38 AM
danteatlas.bsky.social
#WIPSnips June 4th - Check
We've got a longer one as Alistair ponders distance, his parents, and his relationships amongst the group.

Margot is probably my favorite character Alistair interacts with heavily right now because she's constantly changing.
The way it all worked out meant that Margot and Alistair didn’t get much time to check on each other, especially not alone. It was just by happenstance that Margot woke up early when Alistair was the last to take watch. She sat next to him wordlessly, folding her hands into her lap as they looked up at the canopy of tree boughs above them which had grown thick again as they traveled west. Where the clearing around Victor’s cabin had felt cold and exposed, here Alistair felt claustrophobic and suffocated by the oppressive canopy. Most of the north was like this, so he’d heard. Often times the areas around large cities were cleared by the populous for expansion, firewood, and construction materials. But there were lots of forests like this between them. While his parents had been well traveled with every step he took Alistair made a new record for the farthest he’d ever been from home. It was an odd thing to think about, how the far and cutting the distance felt. Did it only sting so terribly because while he ached for home he also ached for something less recoverable and unnamed? Would it be different if he left like his parents had, on some grand quest just because it sounded better than sitting at home? “How are you holding up?” Margot asked cautiously. She was weighing his expression, his voice, his tone, studying him like a bug captured in her palms. “Not well.” There was no use in lying to someone knew him so well, as Alistair was well aware. “Does he speak to you, at all?” Secretly he hoped that she would say no, that Henry has gone mute after the trauma of his near death. But the half dwarf answered, “Sometimes, mostly when we’re alone.” The dark circles around her brown eyes had gotten worse, as though she hadn’t been sleeping at all. “He’s not well, I don’t think. I-I don’t know what to do.”
June 4, 2025 at 10:38 AM
danteatlas.bsky.social
All in all, a pretty successful writing day.
39,757 words (total) | 2,878 words (today)
June 3, 2025 at 2:14 AM
danteatlas.bsky.social
#SFFChat
2. This is technically from the first book of WO (I'm working on the second now, my editor has the first) but I think this is an good, important moment and I've been looking for an excuse to share it anyway.
Henry stuck his arm out to grab her arm to keep her from leaving the barn, and this time he was the one staring at her. Desperation clung to his features in a way his brother had never seen. “Margot, please, I’ve not seen you in years. I’ve missed you.” She laughed, the sound came hollow and bitter from her chest, but as Henry recoiled she closed the gape between them and hugged him tight. It was the most normal she had been since she had come to visit. Her head rested on his collar as she squeezed him tight. “I missed you, too, Hen.” And then the moment was over, Margot was gone again. She pulled away, even as Henry was desperate to hold onto her for a second more, and she left the barn. Alistair hung back with his brother, watching the unfamiliar girl go with the warm summer breeze tousling her hair. Was this… Normal? Should he have changed so drastically when his father died? Did he change when his father died? He could almost hear his mother telling him this was normal, that people just… Grew apart. People changed when they were not near, and sometimes it could cause a rift. He never would have believed such a thing about Margot, though. His brother swallowed his pride, scrubbing one hand roughly over his face. For a second Alistair thought he saw a tear or two, but Henry had never been the crying sort. He always tried to say he was stronger than that. “Are you alright?” The younger of the two brothers asked, carefully creeping to close the gap between them. As he sat his hand on Henry’s shoulder, he slapped him away. “Fine, shit.” He stepped forward, creating a larger gap between them than there had been. “I…” His jaw clenched, as though he were grinding his teeth. “I’m just worried.”
June 2, 2025 at 11:49 AM
danteatlas.bsky.social
@avalonranger.bsky.social strikes again, this is BEAUTIFUL and I can't wait to tell everyone more about the book it represents.

Stay tuned! I'll be over here chewing on this.

#writer #author
A large dead tree sits in a field soaked in blood, surrounded by fireflies and stars. The bark is stripping and turning white, and the roots have leached the red from the pool around them. A silver sword is leaned against the tree, and there are small, white flowers with five pointed petals in the field.
May 23, 2025 at 11:59 PM
danteatlas.bsky.social
In today's #WIPSnips we get a look at why people on Vitas usually introduce themselves with their pronouns Very Quickly. Humans still tend to try and sort people into boxes (Alistair struggles with this, despite being trans himself.)
As the old man opened his mouth to argue someone cleared their throat. The elven guard turned a shade of pink as they stepped aside, revealing a stout dwarf with their hands clasped behind their back. Alistair suddenly realized, now that he finally outside of his little hometown where humans had dug their heels in, he had no idea how to tell the difference between a masculine or feminine dwarf. Just like Winifred, this dwarf wore their beard in intricate knots and braids, they decorated the hair with beads, but nothing about them betrayed the proper pronouns to use. Of course, he knew better than anyone that you couldn’t always judge a book by its cover. But humans usually wanted to conform, one way or another. Not all of them did, but it was more common than not, at least for the sake of their fellows. The dwarf was busy admonishing the guards, saying they expected this kind of behavior from one of them, but not the other before they raised their eyes to Garret. They had a scar down their face, it was easier to see at this angle. It started above the edge of their eyebrow and carved down, missing the outer corner of their eye and hooking across the bridge of their nose. They held out their gloved fist, which Garret met with his own. “It’s good to see you, Sir Windward, well met.” They were soft spoken, flatter in affect than most of Garret’s acquaintances they had met. “I see we’ve got quite the party here.”
May 23, 2025 at 10:06 PM
danteatlas.bsky.social
Another writing accountability post, I'm picking Pokemon Violet back up with a close friend so that's not helping me, but we're back over 1k today. Progress is Progress.

#writing
36,058 words (total) | 1,266 words (today)
May 23, 2025 at 4:46 AM
danteatlas.bsky.social
#SFFChat Q4: Margot, Henry, and Alistair used to spend every summer together and Margot has had a crush on Henry her entire life. They're currently on a mission to avenge Alistair and Henry's mother, and Henry has done horrible things for the power and strength to fulfill his goal. Alistair-
Henry stopped speaking at all, to anyone, save for Margot. When he pulled himself from the tent the next morning it was as though he had taken a vow of silence. His red hair was a stain, a declaration of his guilt to the world if they were to know who he was. He might as well have ink etched into his forehead that read Murderer. If his actions had shaken Margot her fear was locked behind a steel vault, were it not for the joy that had stopped reaching her eyes. Where the love between them had been so real just a week ago, now Alistair watched as Margot hovered just outside his brother’s orbit, just outside of his reach. Camp was broken down and packed away quickly, even with the lack of communication. They had fallen into a routine, and it was easy to fall back on even now. Many hands made light work, and before Alistair knew it they were off again, toward Lion’s Hollow. Garret took the lead and the youngest member of their group fell just behind him, with Margot and Henry trailing behind just in case. Henry and Garret hadn’t recovered from their fight about their parents, and the old man’s attempt at drowning the younger certainly hadn’t helped matters. If they were to speak at all, no doubt it would lead to someone’s death. Another six foot deep hole to hold a corpse left in their wake was the last thing they needed. In a big city they wouldn’t be able to start fights without getting hauled out by the local guard, and for once Alistair wasn’t worried about his temper being the problem. It was an odd feeling, devoid of the pride he expected. Choked out by anxiety creeping up the back of his neck like his brother’s burning-coal stare.
May 23, 2025 at 12:46 AM
danteatlas.bsky.social
Well, today's slower but progress is progress!
34,415 words (total) | 751 words (today)
May 21, 2025 at 5:47 AM