#writemas challenge

[vesanal]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊The 16th Day of Writemas₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Heya again y’all! Another joyous day of writemas has come to greet us again! Here is the invite post if you have no idea what I’m talking about and here is where you can check out the prompts I am doing for today!! Today is a fun one! Hope ya like ;)

Prompts used:

(more than usual today)

Feeling: The stirring of darkness + The hiss of the wind(like at the very end lmao)

Dialogue: "Surrender, it is your only hope, your only salvation."

Setting: An altar

Since today is kinda spoookyyy I decided that this a great opportunity to introduce the Bone-Binder to y’all!! He’s sorta been this thing that people have just referred to in each of the writemasses so far, and today I aimed to actually show him and all of his evilness!

Read about the WIP here!!

Have fun reading!!

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Gold, silver and other precious commodities adorned the strange room around them. It was like stepping into a portal and seeing into another dimension. Priceless materials laid at their feet, only at an arm’s reach. Lined along the edges of the room were candles, leading up to many more circling around paintings of a person.

An altar. Such a beautiful one, too. Yet, it was a gluttonous, sickening site for the group to take in. Completely dedicated entirely to the so called ‘one true King’ as it stated so loudly on each tapestry, sign, and painting. The same King that will soon enough have enough power between his bony claws to take over the Queen in rule and control Pytharios to restore true order to the world. They called him the Bone-Binder, from what one of them could read on the engravings of the golden plaque in front of them. 

Just outside of the cathedral in which they peered into, something stirred in the withered forest. The sounds kept creeping closer and closer to the doors behind them than any of them would have liked for an especially eerie night like this. One of them looked behind her, then all around, to make sure no one had followed them inside. It seemed to be safe enough for them to rest until it was too late.

Broken glass suddenly shattered into the air as a battalion of fully armed soldiers jumped down from the cathedral's roof windows and grabbed each member of the venturing wanderers. Every single one of adventurers were held back effortlessly, like they didn't even matter to them.

“Let us go! You have no quarrel with us! Please!“ One girl wailed, fearing for all of their lives.

The solider prevent her from her escape hissed into her ear, sneering, “Well, you’ll have to do better than that to live tonight, doll. We need lives like yours for our…cause, we shall say.”

“We are just simple travelers through the area, we meant no harm!” Another, this time a young boy, screamed out loud.

“You are encroaching upon our land. That is considered high treason by the standards of the Bone-Binder. “ The commander of the armed soldiers stated, holding up their spear to the crowd of hostaged innocent people.

Knocking loose suddenly from one of the soldier's death grip, one man pulled out a crude wand with small gemstones fixed from it’s neck to it’s tip. He held it up high so every solider in the room could watch him destroy them all, his look of determination intensifying. 

Immediately after casting the spell, though, something shot to his wand, creating a small explosion after it’s hit. Cracks formed all along the surface of the gemstones, causing each one to collapse into itself and fall apart into pieces, completely negating the spell it was casting. Falling to his knees involuntarily, he fell under control to a strange force that had just entered the room.

"Surrender, it is your only hope, your only salvation." A large cloaked figure spoke chillingly from the shadows, commanding the room around him in a cold tone. 

He put up his bone hands, only having tattered gray skin resume at his wrists from the abuse of his gem burning it off, to dismiss his soldiers from retaliation, as if he was allowing them to stand by his side and watch the real magic begin. Then, with one quick motion, each of them began to convulse with pain as the dazzling jewel at the end of his wand warped further and further, bending to do his bidding. 

Eventually, the movement stopped. No one in the room could move, even the soldiers who watched it all happen. Frozen cold from fear of what he might do next, the commander of the skeletal army quickly glanced over at the Bone-Binder. 

“Clean up the mess, you.” The Bone-Binder said, accompanied with an icy stare and a sinister grin growing across his gaunt, yet bare from any skin and musculature, face, “Now I have enough core power to invade across the Sunnes River, and make a quick stop by to see our old friends in Milev. What do you say, commander?”

As the Bone-Binder opened the door to the outside of the cathedral, the wind sent it’s final howl then came to a halt when it realized who it was dealing with.

------------------------------

(PLEASE tell me if you wanna get added to a tag list here because I genuinely don't know who to tag lol. I'll edit this and add you in!! <3 )

TAGLIST SO FAR: @sunflowerrosy @seastarblue

@thebookishkiwi @viridis-icithus @corinneglass

Our wonderful host <3 → @agirlandherquill Have a lovely day everyone!!

[nyoxy-ghostie]

Day one of writemas

Thank you so much for allowing me to join writemas @agirlandherquill, I've never done this before but I'm very excited to join this year and I'll try my very best.

I'm starting late but here are my day 1 prompts that you can also find (here), and here's the invitation post (here) that also includes the rules for any who would love to join :)

My prompts: dialogue; "Look at me." | setting: Beside a roaring fireplace | feeling: warmth

Fandom: TWD (the walking dead)

Maggie x Gender-neutral Child!reader

Warnings: haven't watched TWD for a few years, OCC character, injured child!reader, curse words that's it enjoy :)

Feedback is always welcome <3

DONE YAPPING :')

-----------------------------------------

Being on your own in a collapsing building was not an ideal idea but things don't normally turn out how you want. You ran from your group, it wasn't like you hated them or anything it was just you needed a break but now you were starting to regret it.

The knife cut through the dead flesh as you shoved it deeper in the walkers head, that was the last of the dead on this floor. The floor creaked under the weight of the bodies as they piled up, you were two caught up in your head to notice just what you were walking into. The floor collapses underneath you sending you falling from the second floor to the basement floor.

Sharp pain shot through your leg and rib area "Ah shit" you took notice of the blood wondering if it was yours or a walkers, you couldn't really tell all that well. You layed on the floor for a few minutes before trying to get up, you have never wanted to scream louder then you did right now. Your leg had your knife through it about 4 inches and you weren't stupid enough to pull it out having learned that lesson from Rick when he scolded you for a pervious incident where you were injured.

As soon as you pushed open the heavy iron doors that sounded like it needed to be drowned in WD-40, you took notice of two men arguing you could hear their voices clearly, it was Daryl and Rick.

You groan already knowing you were gonna be in trouble as soon as you three got back to the group. They turned directly to you and started whisper yelling aggressively, "what in the 'ell were ya thinkin' kid?" "You scared all of us when you disappeared from Maggie's sight." You sigh before you could awnser you took in their silence they must have noticed the knife in your leg. "Listen I-" you were cut off "get in the car." Both men got into the car Rick in the driver and Daryl in the passenger. You shuffle into the back as best as you could without hurting your leg even more.

The ride back was painful not just from your leg but the tension in the air, it feels as if you were grounded for getting into a fight at school.

Once you pulled through the gate you were slow to get out knowing you would eventually have to face them and deal with the consequences but it still kept to grounded in your seat. Both men had already gotten out and were talking to Glenn, Maggie, Carl and Michonne. All of a sudden you were pulled out of the car they were careful with your leg but it still didn't hurt any less, "what were you thinking, are you hurt anywhere else?" Maggie looked over your entire body to make sure there were no secretly hidden wounds.

"I needed a break and I'm fine Mags I just fell." I couldn't lie to her she could see right through every lie I would try to tell her. I seen her breath in and out as a way to calm herself down, she put my arm over her shoulders and put hers across my side. She helped me walk to her little home, every step you took hurt a lot and every time you breathed in and out you winced, you were most likely bruised.

Maggie set you on the floor with your back to the leather couch to your right was a raging fireplace that warmed your entire body up, it was nice to feel this warmth. It makes you want to watch cartoons like a kid while sipping on hot chocolate after a long day of playing in the snow. Maggie came back and set the medkit down, "Glenn and me were worried you had been in trouble out there." Silence filled the room you had no idea what to say, you felt bad about doing that to her but you don't need to be patented your were good on your own, for the most part. "Glenn and I talked about moving you in with us." You turned away from her and watched the fireplace flames dance.

"Look at me." Maggie's voice was soft, gentle and sad. What could she possibly be sad about? I felt tears well up in my eyes and a lump form in my throat. I turned towards her and held in the sob, she hadn't even started to address the wound, I was crying by the time she spoke out loud again.

"We want you as our daughter, if you'll accept us as your parents?" Maggie was crying and out the front door window you could see Glenn talking with Rick probably asking about moving your stuff to their home. This was the nicest thing anyone has done for you since the outbreak, is this something that you need? Glenn and Maggie were already like parents to you, when you would act out they would punish you like a parent would and when you did something good or nice for them or other people they would say things like "good job" or "I'm so proud of you."

They were your parents.

"You both want me as your child?" You could feel the tears falling down your face and dropping onto your arm. You immediately were hugged, Maggie wrapped her arms around you and tugged you closer, you leaned your head on her chest and let out a sob as she muttered the words that made you decide on your decision.

"We would love to have you as our child."

[theeccentricraven]

The 7th Day of Writemas 🛷🦌

Thank you again @agirlandherquill for Writemas!💚🤍❤️ If you don't yet know the rules of this tag game/writing prompt/writing challenge, you can check them out here

For Day 7, I chose the setting prompt - The Dead of Night.

I used this prompt to revise a scene in The Blood Cleaners that takes place in the dead of night. I like showing how Justin uses his blood cleaner powers in the dark.

It was the dead of night. Justin was granted a cerulean and white coat that matched his uniform. He looked over every note and map in his pack. He planned to grab the biodiesel can from the bus stop not far from the train station. No one would see him. The waning gibbous set, leaving a pitch black night sky. It was perfect. Tonight was the night.  The only problem was he wasn’t alone. When Justin arrived at the bus stop, he saw fire pits and smoke rising in the night air, some underneath the elevated tracks, and some built on top of the tracks. Justin wondered how someone got up there before remembering that one of the abandoned stations had a stairwell. The elevated tracks were good shelter for the destitute, the people who didn’t have the skills for any job and had outlived any family who could support them. They were the transient and could call any part of Corpa their home for the night. Now Justin had to figure out how to activate the locomotive without propelling it forward to the unsuspecting night guests.  As he morphed, he picked up on the space between him and the looming tracks in front. Being a liquid gave him virtual night vision. He traveled across the terrain to the rail post right below the locomotive. Justin slithered up the post and over the tracks. He located the back of the engine. There were no cars attached to the engine, making this project a lot easier. Justin returned to human form. He switched on his flashlight and found the tank where he poured down the biodiesel fuel. It was a small amount, but it would do.  Justin heard voices in the distance. He switched the light off. He morphed. Fearing that whoever was watching would spot him in the cabin, Justin carried himself out and down to the tracks. Justin hid under the engine. Justin heard voices, but couldn’t sense the words. Their flashlights illuminated the surfaces of tracks and the locomotive. Whoever they were, Justin worried they would notice the engine’s tank was full and search harder for the intruder.  Justin contemplated how to distract them. He slipped away across the moldy wood, pretending he loved the taste. He contemplated making some noise, but he would have to time it right to escape before they caught up. He detected a tall metal post standing by the tracks. It was a lamppost. He returned to human form where he sat under the lamppost. Justin made out the silhouettes of lifeless lampposts standing still and quiet in the darkness. A lightbulb inside him switched on. Justin reached over to the lamppost. He touched the base and concentrated. Can you hear me? The warmth filled him as the response spoke to him. I hear you well. The night felt less cold as Justin warmed up. He focused on the lamp. Turn the light on.  The lamppost switched on. The light that shone for the first time in decades illuminated the tracks. Justin didn’t have a second to celebrate. He was exposed. He didn’t hesitate for a fraction of a second. He morphed.  Bodies and voices ran in his direction, their footsteps vibrating across the tracks, shaking his liquid body. His liquid body raced along the side of the rail, avoiding the fast steps of the uniformed men and women. It was only as he passed the running bodies that he realized they were not transient residents of the tracks. They were law enforcement. 

Tagging my writer mutuals because I have no money but at least I can give this gift 🎁🎅🤶⛄🎄❄️🍒🌟😇🕯️

@sunflowerrosy @furrywrit3r @wyked-ao3 @selenekallanwriter @drchenquill

@revenantlore @whatwewrotepodcast @jay-avian @constellationandcompendium @olivescales3

@ryns-ramblings @primroseprime2019 @illarian-rambling @kaylinalexanderbooks @kitty-is-writing

@kitkins13 @buffythevampirelover @willtheweaver @poethill @acmartin

@apolline-lucy @elizaellwrites @gioiaalbanoart @orphanheirs @pluppsauthor

@cowboybrunch @leahnardo-da-veggie @dandelion-jester @aalinaaaaaa @faeriecinna

@brynwrites @somethingclevermahogony @rickie-the-storyteller @raevenlywrites @winterandwords

@happypup-kitcat24 @the-golden-comet @ddgraywrites @autism-purgatory @mxxnwishes

@tildeathiwillwrite @screamingatanemptyroom @kbwritesstuff @spookyceph @pluto-murphy-writes

@talesofsorrowandofruin @kaylark @sleepywriter00 @americanfemcel @fairy-tales-of-yesterday

and OPEN

[afyerarchive]

"Indoctrination" My Ass

2024 WRITEMAS 06 - “An execution.”

Off with his head,

I mutter, standing tip-toed to put this book back where it belongs,

thinking to myself,

who the next reader could really be.

As libraries burn,

so do the stories they hold,

mundane or meaningful,

lost to the torrents of tyranny.

(written for @agirlandherquill’s “writemas”)

(SORRY ABOUT THE TITLE BUT I THINK IT FITS LMAOOO- also sorry this poem is relatively short/low effort, I'm still recovering and need to catch up! <3)

[glasshouses-and-stones]

🎄WRITEMAS 2024🎄

Okayyy, thank you @agirlandherquill for creating this lovely challenge! It inspired me to finish a piece (which I've been struggling to do), so I am forever grateful <3

I have six minutes to post this before it's officially December 2nd for me, so let's see if I can get it in time!!

-

🌟DAY 1:🌟

"look at me."

a frozen lake

they were nearing the end, but what then?

a brush of a finger

-

hrpf, Connor McDavid/Dylan Stome, T

"He knew better, by then, to let Connor do whatever he wanted, whatever he put his mind to. There wasn't anyone or anything that could stop him, and Dylan had given up trying a long time ago."

-

Thanks again for creating the challenge, and anyone who sees this should definitely consider hoping in on it!! <3 Happy holidays, guys :)

[the-ellia-west]

Writemas Challenge

Day 1

Hosted and Tagged by the lovely @agirlandherquill my Prompts come from this post, and the challenge invitation in this post if you'd like to try it yourself, and I invite you all to try!

I wish you all a Merry Winter season as we dive write into this madness

My prompts: |"We shouldn't be in here."| Beside a roaring fireplace | He was in trouble. Too much trouble.| Warmth|

---

A crimson carpet of a color much deeper than blood muffled his footsteps as Aderos ran his fingers across the intricate carvings marked into the fireplace mantle. He bit the inside of his cheek, tasting a metallic sting as he caught sight of a small frame. Aderos leveled his breaths and slipped his fingers around it, bringing it close to his chest for a better look.

He brushed dust off the glass with his thumb as the crackling fire only inches from his legs began to burn. But he welcomed the heat, as it would be the last time he would feel a fire before she took him back to the sea for good. As he sat cross-legged in front of the flames, sweat beading on his brow and fire roaring at his front, he treasured the picture.

A small portrait just bigger than both of his hands of the royal family. The king and queen stood regally with both of their hands on the shoulders of a smiling little girl. He longed to see her again. Not the solemn queen of ice who'd taken her place. He wished that when he reached for her hand, he would feel the same warmth of the fire racing through her veins. He pressed his forehead to the frame, tears slipping softly down his cheeks and the roaring of the flames cutting out the rest of the world. So he didn't hear the door creak behind him.

“Eros?”

The prince jumped, clutching the picture against the buttons of his suit as he tensed. “Tera.”

“Why are you… We shouldn't be in here.”

“Well, well, well, honeybun, what are you doing here, then?” He tucked the portrait into his bag as he turned, locking eyes with the fiery scrutiny of the princess from the portrait.

She sighed, “I suppose you have me there, Eros. I surrender, I came to look at these.” She motioned to the much larger frames lining the walls over the fireplace that seemed to be protesting as he retreated from its warmth. “I… Miss my father.”

Aderos opened his mouth to say something as she stepped up beside him, but found the words stuck in his throat, and he faltered. How could he tell her? How could he do that to her? But he knew he couldn't leave without doing something, or it would haunt him until the day he died.

“Eros? What is it? Is there something troubling you?” She turned toward him, and in a moment he was overcome with a deep grief for her. Her dress like sparkling candlelight beneath silver stars.

He tried to speak again, tell her everything. But when nothing came, he threw his arms around her and pulled her into a kiss, desperate for her to understand everything he was trying to say but couldn't. Tera startled, but once she realized, she melted into him, hands finding his shoulders as she kissed him back. Together, he felt like nothing could pull them apart, and for one tiny moment, all his grief drowned in the warmth of the princess of the sand whose eyes kept him up long past sunrise.

At her touch, a strange electric pulse raced through his skin as they tested the waters, almost swaying back and forth into one another before she pulled back, a hand flying to her lips. Aderos tried to smile, a silent reassurance everything was alright as he brushed her lipstick from his cheek, but as he looked at her, he knew.

He was in trouble. So much trouble.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Have a good day, lovelies!

@seastarblue @darkandstormydolls @urnumber1star @homelessnerd @sunflowerrosy

@i-hate-happy-endings @tildeathiwillwrite +Open tag!

[mxxnlightwriting]

I've decided that I'm going to write all the missing entries I have for Writemas on my word file and once I'm done with that, I'll post the remaining days.

That means that it'll be the New Year and I'll still be writing stuff from this challenge, but you know what? My goal is to finish this cute little story and I. will. do. it!!

[darkluminosity]

Writemas Day 9: Is It Killing You Like It's Killing Me? (1140 words)

Hi!

So I was looking back through previous Writemas posts/prompts (intro to the challenge here) and I was so eager to incorporate some songs into them, creating a song challenge of sorts alongside that challenge. (Because I'm a little crazy like that.)

This piece was inspired by the song “Story of Us” by Taylor Swift.

I heard this song while driving home a few days ago, and an idea popped in my head. I wanted to write a short Euluc piece with some awkwardness (like in the song). It might have some rough spots but oh well, I just wanted to get this random idea out there 😆

I can see Diluc and Eula both being too prideful and stubborn, which ends up hurting them both a bit and complicating things as they continue to not talk to each other. 🥲 (Poor Kaeya, stuck in the middle. I’m not sorry.)

Prompts used:

He watched her speak to the others, he watched her spare him nothing, not a single glance, and still he watched, even as his knuckles turned white by his sides.

The vicious bite of regret

Enjoy! (And I haven't posted this on AO3 yet, wondering if I should. 🤔)

=====

Diluc sighed to himself behind the bar counter as he polished the glasses.

He snuck glances at one group of patrons who were happily chatting and laughing at the far corner of the busy tavern. He couldn't make out anything that was said, nor could he read lips, but the only one on his mind was the light-blue haired woman, the Spindrift Knight from the Lawrence clan…

His brother was at the table as well, with his naturally mischievous smile becoming a little too wide for Diluc’s comfort. It bothered him to no end that he, of all people, was spending time with her.

“Do you want to take their order?” Charles asked, interrupting his thoughts. When the redhead didn't respond and tried to feign an uncaring demeanor, the head bartender nudged him on the shoulder. “C’mon. You should go and talk to them.”

He hesitated, but Charles kept insisting.

“Alright…” He awkwardly stepped out from the counter and headed toward the table.

Kaeya, who was facing in his direction, made a subtle gesture to the others that he was approaching. By the time Diluc was close enough to hear anything, he noticed that the table was substantially quieter.

“Just wanted to check in… does anyone want to order anything else?”

Rosaria and Amber shook their heads. Venti smiled and said something along the lines of paying with a poem, to which the bartender explained (once again) that songs were not a form of payment at Angel’s Share.

“You’re welcome to try your hand at the Cat’s Tail, though I’m fairly certain they follow the same policy,” he quipped.

“No way,” the bard replied with a sigh. “Besides, I’m allergic to cats.”

“Fair enough. I take it you’ll be closing your tab then?” Venti chuckled in reply and made a comment to the others about paying some of them with a song if they would pay for another drink. No one said a word, but everyone started to exchange glances and laugh, as though there was an inside joke between them.

Diluc shrugged and eyed his brother.

“Another Death After Noon, please,” Kaeya said with a smile. They both looked over at Eula, who was sitting next to him. She glanced back at Kaeya and shook her head.

“That’ll be all,” his brother confirmed.

Heading back to the counter, Diluc went to make the Death After Noon and a few other drink requests from the other patrons. His thoughts washed over him, drowning him in a personal cocktail of different emotions– pain, regret, sadness… and anger.

The anger, a mixture of frustration and jealousy, was a new one. He could hear the laughter and singing coming from the table again as he crafted the drinks. Even amidst the busy tavern and having his back to them, he could recognize their laughter, especially his brother’s… and hers.

Turning back to face them, he watched her speak to the others, he watched her spare him nothing, not a single glance. And still he watched, even as his knuckles turned white by his sides.

=====

Eula leaned against the wall near the front door of the tavern, trying her best not to look awkward. She crossed her arms and busied herself with her nails.

“Were you waiting long?” Kaeya asked. She shook her head. “C’mon,” he opened the door and they headed inside together.

The tavern was quite warm, a welcome respite from the brisk winter air outside. Seeing the redhead she had been trying to avoid at the bar counter, she opted to take the table furthest from there.

Dammit, she panicked in her head. What is he doing here, working today?

As they sat down, Kaeya asked what she wanted. Shrugging at first, she eventually told him to surprise her. He headed toward the counter, leaving her alone again. She began to feel that familiar anxiety creep in.

Eula could see the brothers’ interaction in her peripheral, which seemed more forced than usual. She snuck quick glances to notice the tired look in his crimson eyes, and the way his lips pursed into a fine line upon seeing his brother. After a few moments, she decided to take interest in the rest of the tavern, lest he realize she was watching him.

Even so, Eula couldn't stop thinking about him.

Kaeya sighed a few minutes later, returning with two Death After Noons.

“Don't worry about him,” he said before she could open her mouth. He slid the glass over to her.

“I- wasn't,” she insisted. The look on his face told her he wasn't convinced.

“You're not very good at lying, you know that?” He laughed. Eula made a serious face, but it eventually slipped and she giggled, covering her mouth to hide her smile. She couldn't help it– his laughter was too contagious.

Kaeya’s right. I can't really hide how I feel. But I wonder if Diluc knows… if it's killing him like it's killing me…

“Ahem… good evening, Venti. Rosaria.” The two exchanged pleasantries with the pair, eventually sitting down with their drinks as they began to talk among themselves. She tried to ignore the fact that she felt the bartender’s eyes on her, watching her every move. Her pride wouldn't even allow her to satisfy her curiosity. Archons forbid if they made eye contact… she would die from shame if he caught her looking at him.

Then, as Kaeya said he was quickly approaching, her heart raced, anxiety mounting. Not knowing what to do, fumbling to find the words, getting her thoughts in order–

She did… nothing.

Her heart sunk to a new low as Diluc walked back to the counter. She knew she should have said something to him, but her pride had gotten in the way again. She knew she had made things awkward by letting Kaeya speak for her. But she didn't know how to let down her walls anymore. Her heart was too frail– she couldn't trust that it wouldn't be broken if she allowed him in again. Even an inch. And she didn't want to do it in front of the others.

Even though she had hoped for a change, it seemed so unlikely, given the cold silence that ran between them, in his stuffy tavern of all places.

Are things ever going to get better?

Why can't I just let my pride down…

Why can’t he?

She crossed her arms and attempted to listen, occasionally laughing with the others. Ironically, she felt like crying and running away more than anything. But she dared not– she would die with her pride defending her. Acting as though she could care less, as though he wasn't there, as though thoughts of him never crossed her mind since that day…

Inside, she was trapped, a prisoner to that same pride.

Please, she prayed. Save me from this…

[that-expat-girl]

Writemas Day 8

With a huge thank you to @agirlandherquill for putting together the writemas challenge. Today's chosen prompt? A windowless room.

The prisoner sits in a windowless room, a place where neither light nor open air can reach. The walls are damp and dark and stone. A single bed stands in the corner.

Nothing, save her daily bread, brought like clockwork in a paper napkin -- nothing comes into the prisoners room. And nothing, absolutely nothing, goes out.

Yet in her mind, the entire world is dreamt, with all its joys and cruel damnations. If only dreams may wander, then she will give herself over to dreams. For is this not the call of every artist?

To make something from nothing at all?

[mitchell-nihil]

December Writing... Journey? Writemas? I Don't Know What To Call This - Day 1

Divider

I found a list of prompts for seasonal writing, and I wrote the first one and decided it would be more fun to connect all of the prompts together in a short story. (The list was made by somebody else for their own writing but I lifted it I'm sorry 😔)

I'm not going to give a number I'm aiming for because I don't want to feel guilty for not reaching it. It's a short story that takes place around the 3/4 mark of Blue Cataclysm, during the timeline of events but separated from the main plot.

Summary:

Wrote 735 words, nothing exciting just a morning routine and setting up the main oddity (?) of the story. I realised at the end of the day that I was going to need to go back to the beginning and add some setup, but I'll do that when I feel like it...

I want to try hard to not feel pressured to do this during December because god knows I'm busy enough, and focusing on word count has never been good for me.

[mxxnlightwriting]

Oh, could I be added to the taglist for the future prompts? Also, is there a special hashtag we should use when posting our creations?

This seems so cool! I can't wait to work on this!

the first day of writemas

and thus it begins, there's an icy chill hanging in the air, a warm cup of coco in your palm and a dozen layers huddled between you and your keyboard, your notebook, your typewriter, be it whatever you use to write, the 1st of december has come calling, and we all know what that means dear writers... lower your voices, conceal your smiles, because writemas has officially begun!

now, here's a little refresher of the rules: choose a prompt from the list, write something and share your creation with the rest of writeblr, and share the game with others, because as we all know writing is a gift and it deserves to be shared! and of course, tag me in your responses because i cannot wait to see them!

the game is open to all, as discussed in the invitation post - which, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, is still being monitored for newcomers and late additions - all are welcome to the game!

now for the most important part - the prompts! Prompt List:

Dialogue Prompts:

"We shouldn't be in here."

"...Enough."

"Look at me." Setting Prompts:

A frozen lake

Utter darkness

Beside a roaring fireplace

Narration Prompts:

She knew she should leave, she knew she had no place there, and still her feet would not move.

He was in trouble. Too much trouble.

They were nearing the end, but what then?

Feeling Prompts:

Warmth

The smell of a tree after a rainy day

A brush of a finger

(this very first post will be going live at 00:01, December 1st, UK Time, so apologies if it comes early for some of you, but i just couldn't help myself i've been so excited for this game to start)

eagerly awaiting your creations, and i wish you all a very happy start to the holidays!

~ A Girl and Her Quill

the invitations have been received so here you all are, i bestow upon you the gift of writemas! p.s if you want to be added to the tag list, interact with this post <3 @365runesofthesystem @glasshouses-and-stones @tildeathiwillwrite @sunakore @nothoughtsjustmhaandotherthings

@willtheweaver @theverumproject @phoenixradiant @thatuselesshuman @melpomenelamusa

@loverboyxbutch @i-hate-happy-endings @corinneglass @whatwewrotepodcast @aalinaaaaaa

@aseriesofsmallthings @kelseyjade @lauravanarendonkbaugh @i-do-anything-but-write @nuclearr-wessels

@95angeltears @sunflowerrosy @thebadphilosopher @ellowynthenotking @xarrixii

@the-ellia-west @myniceisniceblogbloglog @kitty-is-writing @girl-with-bones @crimsonlyinglilly

@fantasy-things-and-such @shiningstars-world

[vesanal]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊The 21st Day of Writemas₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Howdy everyone!! How are we doing today? It’s soooo close to the end of writemas we only have like 3 days left!! Crazy. If you are still interested in seeing the rules or wanna join here is the invite post! Today these are my prompts! <3

Prompts used:

Feeling: The hum of song

Narration: She watched the clouds swirl and dance high up in the sky, as free as the birds playing in their midst, as free as she would never be.

Today is going to be a little short because I’ve been a bit busy this week somehow. Have more Aerlyra because she is awesome and I love her to death :D And oops I got a little angsty on this one.

Read about the WIP here!!

Enjoy! Sending love to you all <3

------------------------------

Aerlyra sat at the edge of her chair, peering into the small, silver mirror that laid on the table in front of her, watching herself at work. Interviewing her curly, dark hair together was certainly a huge task for her to do. It was quite monotonous work. Each coarse tendril rubbed against her fingers so much that they were going numb. Looping one strand at a time of her black hair over another—repeating it again with the next strand to its side—into an intricate pattern, as she had to do three times over for each braid on her head. So much effort went into braiding together the thick strands. Arguably too much for its results.

Finishing one of the braids on the side of her head, she stopped for a moment to take a look in the mirror at her progress. Only two of the three braids were completed, with the hardest one in the back and the other on the side finally done. Aerlyra let out a sigh of relief. Almost over. She picked up the mirror on her table to inspect herself further, wiping away the curly stragglers off of her light face. The mirror proved that her work so far was serviceable, but nothing too unusual from its usual quality. She was just going to work then home again anyways, and it wouldn’t be all that visible from her from her winter coat’s fuzzy hood. 

Looking at her work from the reflection, she closed her eyes. She tried to just forget what it looked like. Perfection just brings pain, but yet, deep down, she still so desperately craved it. No matter how much she denied it. But, she knew she could never be, she was not even close to being perfect. It’s been proven time and time again. It was a hard truth she had to swallow, that she wasn’t going anywhere now, that she was a wash-up. 

Keeping her eyes closed, she placed back down the tiny mirror. She began to hum a song as she started on the last section of her unbraided to her right. She wasn’t sure where she heard the song. Music doesn’t come far enough to seek her here. Not many things did anymore. It was her own choosing, anyway. Tears welled in her eyes as she opened them to look at herself when her thoughts got louder.

Glancing out the window before she got up to get dressed, she watched the clouds swirl and dance high up in the sky, as free as the birds playing in their midst, as free as she would never be. She knew it, the tears reinforced that. It was the same as life back home. Nobody is ever truly free. The very thing she wanted to escape, or rather run from, had followed her all the way to her tiny cabin in the expansive woods, just outside of a nobody town that not even a Queensman bothered to occupy. 

Queensman. How she loathed that word. Not for what it stood for, but for what it became to her. Just another thing she didn’t have the guts to do. Another thing she failed to do. The taste of the word in her mouth made her feel worthless for even trying. 

Smearing the trails of tears off of her white face as she finished her hair, she threw herself off the chair, toppling over the chair along with her, and steeled herself for the upcoming day ahead of her. She couldn’t be late for work, she would like to eat that night.

------------------------------

(PLEASE tell me if you wanna get added to a tag list here because I genuinely don't know who to tag lol. I'll edit this and add you in!! <3 )

TAGLIST SO FAR: @sunflowerrosy @seastarblue

@thebookishkiwi @viridis-icithus @corinneglass

Our wonderful host <3 → @agirlandherquill Have a lovely day everyone!!

[nyoxy-ghostie]

Day two of writemas

I finally got day 2 through 6 done I am gonna post them today it will be spaced out not just one big bulk posts but I will be work on day 7 through 10 and 11 tonight so I should be able to post those either tonight or tomorrow.

I had this super long story but it was taking to long so I deleted it and rewrote it. Sorry I am so late on this life gets super stressful :(

@agirlandherquill

My prompts: dialogue; "make me understand"

Fandom: Venom (2018)

Eddie/venom x Gender-neutral reader

Warnings: I haven't seen Venom last dance this is just based around them in the first movie, cursing

Feedback is always welcome <3

-------------------------------------------------------

Make me understand,” you said while staring at your neighbor, Eddie, and his weird alien symbiote, Venom. They both looked at each other, it looked like they were talking telepathically, actually, they may have been. You were afraid you knew what they were like and you already thought your neighbor was insane for always talking to himself but now you find out he has an alien within his body, this makes him sound even more insane. You thought you were gonna be murdered when he asked to show you something in his apartment. You were broken out of your thoughts when Eddie asked “You ever been on top of the tallest building in the city?” that's how you ended up on top of a building holding on to the iron lighting rod and venom. “Relax morsel, we won’t let you fall” Venom tried to calm you down per eddies request but you hated being this high, this was too high. “Please let's just go back to the apartment,” you said, you were shaking like a leaf and they couldn’t tell if it was because you were scared or because the wind was blowing and it was cold.

You were now back in Eddie's apartment Eddie stood nervously with his hands in his pockets, he was shifting his weight between his feet, they hoped you would understand the type of connection they have with each other. Eddie was the one to ask the question running through both their minds, “Do you understand now?” you stared at them in bewilderment, and you took a deep breath to calm your nerves.

“Yeah, I think I understand.”

[theeccentricraven]

The 15th Day of Writemas🎅🎄🤶🍒🤍

Another merry day of Writemas is here! Thank you @agirlandherquill for setting up this tag game/writing prompt/writer challenge for the holidays ❤️To find the rules of this tag, go to the invitation post. Today on Day 15 I chose the setting prompt "A stage". I figured I would use it to rewrite this scene from my YA Dystopia The Blood Cleaners. I was able to greatly improve this scene from the previous version. 👩‍💻

_________________________________________________________

Miriam’s gig was a family lounge. The tables and chairs were mostly filled by surfacer families. Administrators wore suits and dresses. Accountants and operations agents dressed in “business casual” attire. Some wore the surfacer version of uniforms for law enforcement officers, teachers, doctors, and couriers. Their children wore no uniforms, clad in jeans and cotton t-shirts.   

Justin quickly noticed the difference between the warm, homely surface lounge from the cold, rusty tunnel lounges. He sat in a booth with Elena and Joselyn. They were a peculiar group in the crowd, no doubt perking curiosity over the two tunnel street cleaners and farmer girl. 

A skinny dark-haired man sat at a piano, playing a few folk tunes. He entertained the first hour as the patrons ordered their dishes. When the servers had served most of the patrons, the piano music stopped. The pianist stood up and held a microphone. 

“Hey, mis amigos! We’ve got a new dancer here tonight. You’re sure to love her!”

Miriam’s wobbly feet walked on the stage . She wore the lounge singer uniform for a girl her age - a pink dress with puffy sleeves and a skirt that went down to her knees. Her brown ringlets fell to her shoulders. Her feet fit in rhinestone covered pink slippers. The patrons applauded. Miriam looked down, hiding her blushing.

She turned her eyes to the booth where Elena, Justin, and Joselyn sat. Elena put her hands to her lips. Justin smiled and waved. He gave a thumbs up and mouthed, “You’ve got this.”

Miriam put on her grin and curtseyed. 

The pianist played the familiar tune of Corpa’s anthem. Miriam skipped on her feet and let out her tap dancing skills. She sang.

“We weep the tears of the wrongs we carry,

By our ancestors long ago. 

In the cruel wasteland there's a light of hope,

By the hands closing over our sorrow.

Our fathers break the chains,

Freeing us from pain,

Destroying misery and woe.

We build a new life,

Free from angst and strife,

Where the fathers would have us go.

May Corpa be a land of prosperity,

Kept by the hands of our fathers.

They give much to us and so we give back,

By our sacrifices and our labors.

Our fathers break the chains,

Freeing us from pain,

Destroying misery and woe.

We build a new life,

Free from angst and strife,

Where the fathers would have us go.”

She ended with her arms open wide. 

The patrons applauded. 

Miriam smiled as she skipped off the stage to backstage.

Elena’s face was bright, possibly because of the bowl of chicken soup, but Justin could tell Miriam impressed her mother.

“All of that practice paid off,” Elena said. 

“She’s good,” said Joselyn as she cut her chicken. “How often will she work here?”

“Once a week,” Elena explained. “She still has to go to school when it’s in session and work as a cleaner, but she will get to perform here every Saturday night. Possibly a couple of other nights when school is not in session.”

“I hope she doesn’t work too much,” Joselyn said. 

“I would never let her,” said Elena. “Between Miriam at this joint and Justin as a blood cleaner, we’ll make end’s meet, but I don’t want to lose either of you in the process.”

“Hey,” Justin spoke up, “Miriam knows what she’s doing and so do I. Not to mention, working at this joint will help her score entertainment positions in the aptitudes. She could get here full time.”

Joselyn rolled her eyes. “Unless the Fists say they don’t need any more entertainers.”

 “She’ll prove herself,” Justin said confidently.

“It won’t matter,” Joselyn said, looking down at her food. “Only they can choose her future. They won’t let it be what she wants if it’s not in the best interest of Corpa.”

Justin leaned over to Joselyn’s ear and whispered. “Jos, be careful what you say in a place like this. Someone could hear you.”

She whispered in his ear. “I’m far from what the law calls usurpation. People complain about the Fists all of the time.”

“You’ve heard the horror stories,” Justin added. “I’d never sing the anthem unless I get paid like Miriam, but if things stay as they are, they won’t get worse.”

“I know it could be worse,” Joselyn whispered back. “I don’t think we need to use that to dismiss when the Fists fall short of the promises they make in that anthem.”

“I hear you,” said Justin, “but they’re not our ancestors who dropped the bombs and they keep the lils from consuming this place.”

“Have they really helped with that?” Joselyn said quietly. “Or are they taking credit for our work?”

Justin  shrugged. “I don’t know Jos. It’s just….I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Joselyn smirked. “Jus, you worry so much about me. I should be worried about you.” She sipped her drink of cola while eyeing him.

“Hey,” Justin said grinning, “we’ll go break the rules on our own time.”

“Now, Jus! Shhhhhhhhhh!” she put her fingers to her lips.

Elena cocked an eyebrow as she looked up from her plate. “What are you two talking about?”

“Nothing,” Justin snickered as Joselyn chuckled under her breath.

Miriam walked up to the table. Her dress and smile glimmered under the ceiling lights.

“Miriam!” Justin declared. “You rocked!”

Joselyn clapped. Elena opened her arms. Miriam hugged her.

“I'm so proud of you,” Elena said. “I wish Deirdre were here to see you.”

“I feel like Deirdre is here, Mamá,” Miriam said.

“Oh, I feel the same,” Elena said as her tears fell to Miriam’s shoulders.

Justin looked around, wondering if any of the teachers nearby would step up to remind that spirits and ghosts don't exist. Miriam stepped up to him with arms extended. He opened his arms as she hugged him.

“Thank you big brother,” she said as she dug her face in his shoulder.

____________________________________________________________

Tagging!

@sleepyrxsetea @edstoriesblog @thecomfywriter @pen-for-sword @toribookworm22

@sunflowerrosy @furrywrit3r @wyked-ao3 @selenekallanwriter @drchenquill

@revenantlore @whatwewrotepodcast @jay-avian @constellationandcompendium @olivescales3

@ryns-ramblings @primroseprime2019 @illarian-rambling @kaylinalexanderbooks @kitty-is-writing

@kitkins13 @buffythevampirelover @willtheweaver @poethill @acmartin

@apolline-lucy @elizaellwrites @gioiaalbanoart @orphanheirs @pluppsauthor

@cowboybrunch @leahnardo-da-veggie @dandelion-jester @aalinaaaaaa @faeriecinna

@brynwrites @somethingclevermahogony @rickie-the-storyteller @raevenlywrites @winterandwords

@happypup-kitcat24 @the-golden-comet @ddgraywrites @autism-purgatory @mxxnwishes

@tildeathiwillwrite @screamingatanemptyroom @kbwritesstuff @spookyceph @pluto-murphy-writes

@talesofsorrowandofruin @kaylark @sleepywriter00 @americanfemcel @fairy-tales-of-yesterday

@inkednotebook @the-letterbox-archives @laureleavess @simonnebethel @forthesanityofsome

@melpomene-grey @creatrackers @stephtuckerauthor @theink-stainedfolk

@g0ttest0d @infinnative @little-peril-stories @lyneidas @late-to-the-fandom

and Open!

[afyerarchive]

Euthanasia of Our OCs

2024 WRITEMAS 07 - “Can we fix this?”

"Can we fix this?" you ask, watching drearily at the acres crashing inward as another bridge in this thicken collapses.

I ponder my senses, and shake my head. The weight of the world is in our hands, and we went and watched it combust into something unlike we used to know. Built on the very reason that they would live with us, our stories of childhood, our masks of who we are within, they pass their due dates.

The difference between the cracks of nothingness and the star-stricken sky is the encompassing grin the world befalls on you. In the lack of it, the world becomes a sorry eulogy of invention as the colonizers of fiction itself draw their last breaths in the quaking of the multiverse.

"So be it," I concede, turning my back and glancing your way. "We have to go now. There's bigger tasks at hand."

"Right," you say, staring into imperfection itself.

The founders of this colony are not dead, nor will they be in the long, long future. As if they could teleport, the willpower of the administrators of imagination is a strength no conditioning could come to break. Yet, we willingly cast aside the scripts.

Though it's the death of their day, the dialect they converse and dioramas they traverse, these youthful dreamscapes have an appeal unbeknownst to the status quo.

Oh, if only age itself weren't a world-ending weight.

(written for @agirlandherquill’s “writemas”)

[seastarblue]

WriteCamp Day One

yahooo! it’s another challenge from @agirlandherquill , similar to Writemas from last year :3

here’s the entry post!

the prompt I chose was “the weariness of time”, and I decided to make another journal entry! take a guess at who’s writing… if you dare… (don’t look at the tags and cheat k)

Time is a heavy thing. It weighs on my shoulders, dragging me down with memories of what once was.

It tugs on my face, drawing my mouth downward into a perpetual frown. Maybe I always was one to grumble at every turn, but I blame Time for making it harder to smile. Maybe that’s stupid. I don’t care.

Truth be told, I am weary, and it is only Time I can blame for it.

…Perhaps I am the problem. Time only has so much power, after all—my time is for me and me alone to use. I spend it mulling over what has already happened instead of pushing forward and shrugging that burden off of me.

… I think that’s enough journalling for today.

me when I get too real during my journaling:

writing taglist!

@bunnymermaidwrites @aalinaaaaaa @vesanal @cepheusgalaxy

@fifis-corner @urnumber1star @thebookishkiwi @sunflowerrosy @theink-stainedfolk

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