drippingmoon - Tumblr blog

[drippingmoon]

Good morning.

[drippingmoon]

they should invent sleeping that makes you less tired

[drippingmoon]

 IC 1805, Center of the Heart

[drippingmoon]

2nd commission for wonderful @ideen-elster <3

[drippingmoon]

[ID in ALT]

Hey, folks! Would you like access to snippets for things I intend on publishing? First dibs on beta reading? Alpha reading?

I have a Discord server for this! :tada:

To keep things under wraps (read: because I intend on querying at least some of my novels), I've moved a good chunk of chatter to a private Discord server that is now open.

What you'll find in this Discord server:

Daily snippets

The only place to apply to be an alpha reader

First dibs on beta reader applications

Announcements and author posts all in one place

A place to post your snippets

A word sprint bot for word sprints

And generally a spot where I might actually be hanging out, lol

Is this a writeblr server? Not in the sense that this is for the community. You are free to hang out here and post your stuff, but it was originally created to give me a space to share snippets.

Still, I feel weird about creating a Discord server for myself, so who knows if that's what it actually ends up being? :V

I'm interested in alpha/beta reading for [WIP]. Do I have to be in this server to do it? Beta reading: Nope! It's just that beta reader calls will go up on the Discord server a day before they go up anywhere else.

Alpha reading: Yep, sorry.

Does this mean you won't be making any announcements on this blog anymore? Nope, announcements will still happen on this blog and all the socials! However, the Discord will also have a channel dedicated to aggregating news in one place. Catch meetup announcements, book announcements, and more!

Will you be posting AtB/Midsummer Knights/The Arcadia content? Eventually! Just note that it will be TNS 24/7 until that manuscript is done. :V

How do I get an invite? Like this post, reblog it with tags specifying that you want an invite, or leave a reply on this post. Make sure your DMs are open, and I'll drop you an invite within a day or so.

Tumblr just disabled my messages for attempting to send out the link, lmao. So for the next seven days, just click here.

---

And finally, tagging the TNS people to let y'all know where you can find snippets from here on out:

TNS taglist: @linaket @kittytikara @philosophika @aquadestinyswriting @thebejeweledwatercat @cljordan-imperium @inkovert @captain-kraken @ceph-the-ghost-writer @sarandipitywrites @kaylinalexanderbooks @isherwoodj @sharkblizzardblogs

And a side @drippingmoon, just for fun!

[drippingmoon]

So yeah, in case you hadn't caught what happened last night (see here), my account got borked hard, so basically, most of the functionality got wiped. The tl;dr of it is that I cannot:

Send asks

Receive asks

Message people

Reply to posts

Tag people

Be visible in notifications (my own or yours)

Be visible in tags (probably not related but also on the list)

Basically do anything except toss posts onto people's dashes and hope I'm seen, as literally the only thing that's visible are my posts on your dashboard.

Needless to say, that makes interacting with people—responding to your posts, doing tag games, etc—a teensy bit difficult. I've reached out to support, but it might take a bit before things get resolved. Hopefully less than a week, as Lich said. :')

UNTIL THEN, I'm taking a week off Tumblr to go work on the other socials. If you'd like to keep up with daily TNS snippets, literally the last thing I did before my account broke was put together the Discord, but I'm hoping to work on other sites too.

Here's a full list of places where you can find me for the rest of the week:

The shiny new Discord (Most likely place to catch word if I end up leaving Tumblr or remaking.)

Bluesky (Second most likely place to catch word if I end up leaving Tumblr or remaking.)

Instagram

Cohost

Because of the way my account got borked, this message will repeat every couple of hours. Apologies, all! If you've seen this post and do not want to see it again, blacklist the tag the great borking of 2024.

Thanks for your patience! See you in a week!

[drippingmoon]

The Most Beautiful Puzzle: Chapter Fifteen

cw: police corruption, ACAB, gun violence, aftermath of physical violence, torture mention, hospitals, IVs/needles

When your eyes open again, it’s to a screaming voice and a flash of light. People are shouting. There’s a hand on your hip. Don’t touch me there, you want to say, but your tongue is heavy and your head is spinning and you can’t think straight. You try to close your eyes but something pries one of them back open again. The light glares into your eye so close and so bright, a migraine abruptly tacks itself onto the wooziness. Shouting. You think maybe there’s someone you recognize in there, but you can’t be sure, and now the hand is shaking at your hip and the light is in your other eye and the first clear words you hear when you finally come back to yourself is, “Please be careful! His head’s not bleeding anymore but I don’t know if he hurt his neck when he fell.” You thought you’d never hear that voice again. You could start crying, if your head didn’t already hurt so much. He made it. Josselin made it to the Inspector and they found you. “Kelley—” You try to warn him, but it comes out as mush on your tongue instead of a name. “Don’t talk, don’t talk,” Josselin says gently. “Save your energy for EMS and the doctors.” “Sir, please step back.” Your stomach lurches when a hard stretcher is forced underneath you. Someone was kind enough to put a sheet over it, but it does nothing for the pain in your shoulders and head. More yelling. Somewhere far away. Somewhere over your head. The stretcher must have been moving because suddenly it jerks to a halt. More shouting. Someone shoves the stretcher into the wall. A tense body suddenly on yours. You try to push it away, but Josselin says, “No, no, I’m not letting them hurt you any more.” His voice catches. More yelling. A gunshot.

read chapter fifteen on Wattpad here

or Ao3 here!

Current taglist: @abalonetea @only-book-lovers-left-alive @poore-choice-of-words @leadhelmetcosmonaut @jasperygrace @drippingmoon @athenswrites @magic-is-something-we-create @idreamonpaper @winterandwords @thelaughingstag @revenantlore

[drippingmoon]

9 characters tag

Thanks a lot for tagging me in this one @oh-no-another-idea❤️

Rules: Pick nine characters in media that you feel represent you/that you resonate with in some way.

Uhh, there are very few chars who I relate with and make me go "that's me!", so I'll mainly just do chars that resonated with me and are still living in my soul rent-free✌️

Sophie Hatter from Howl's Moving Castle. One of the few chars that truly represent me! Specifically "it's not easy being old" as someone in her early 20 lmao. I swear, I have the joints of a 90 year old👵🏻

Geto Suguru from Jujutsu Kaisen. He's such an unpleasant lil man. A mass murderer. I love him. He's in here bc I adore his hairstyle and sometimes I'll wear my hair like that too🤩 (tho instead of the bun I just make it a tail bc I can't make a bun like that)

Bucky Barnes from Marvel. The way I was OBSESSED with this man! He's gorgeous. He slays. Esme from Starhunters is getting a metal arm just bc of him👏

Hashibira Inosuke from Demon Slayer. In a fit of genius after brainstorming for days to collect 9 chars for this, Inosuke popped into my mind. I had a really good point. I forgot what it was🤡

Maleficent from Maleficent. I have my love for wings bc of her! She's to blame for why all my stories have angels. When I saw her wings, my brain chemistry was a l t e r e d for good! Or for bad... I should probably be locked up for the things I do to my angels🧍‍♀️

Emily Prentiss from Criminal Minds. First off, I just love her name. In another universe where I'd want to have children, I'd name my daughter Emily. I just think it's super pretty. Plus SSA Prentiss is just a boss lady! She's gorgeous, and I wish I were her

Bokuto Kotaro from Haikyuu. The first time I've ever met a char with the same birthday as me, and he's such a cutie too!! Love my owl boy☺️

Xie Lian from Heaven Official's Blessing. While I read HOB, I basically listened to To Be Loved by AURORA on repeat, so to me, HOB is about Xie Lian finding out what it's like to be loved. Not long after reading HOB, I discovered what that's like too

Castiel from Supernatural. The other cause for my obsession with angels!! Cas and his relationship with Sam and Dean inspired You Can Always Learn to Fly, so he'll always be important to me❤️

Weee, that's all, folks! I'm gonna leave this tag open for anyone who'd like to gush about their fav chars too!!

[drippingmoon]

OC vs cockroach

Stealing an open tag(/taglist tag?) from @oh-no-another-idea bc yours was pure gold🤣👌

Rules: rate your OCs on how well they'd fare against a cockroach

Davina: ?/10 (it depends on your perspective) -- She'd spot a cockroach and go "FRIEND!!!😍😍😍" and pick it up. Then she'd invite it over for her tea party and enjoy biscuits together while she listens to the cockroach's life's story. Helix: 8/10 -- If he saw a cockroach, he'd go very still and politely ask it to please leave his home. After it's packed its bags and left, he'd do a full-body shiver and resume his day. He doesn't know who created those monstrosities, but it wasn't him. Amar: 10/10 -- He actually likes most bugs bc they play an important role in the cleaning up the dead and returning life to the earth. But he'd pick it up and set it outside bc he knows Helix isn't a fan. Nova: 0/10 -- *SCREAMS* "A creepy crawly!" *jumps into Nerezza's arms* "Nene, kill it! Kill it before it lays eggs!" Nova would never ever kill anyone in his life. All life is precious. Except for bugs' lives. They can go die🤺 Nerezza: 10/10 -- She'd go, "Nova, calm down. I can't kill it if I'm carrying you in my arms." Then she'd set him on a chair so the cockroach can't go near his feet. Normally, she'd just pick it up and put it outside, but because Nova insists... oh well. *stomps foot* Hedwig & Lysandra: -12/10 -- Believe it or not, the brave Lysandra has one fear, and that is cockroaches. So she'd very casually convince Hedwig to kill it for her -- her hands are full or sth like that. Hedwig just plainly admits to her that he thinks they're gross and he's not going anywhere near it. Lys: "Hedwig, be a man and just squash it with your boot." Hedwig, who never switches to his female form: *changes to female form*, "🧍‍♀️You be a man." Then the cockroach suddenly starts flying! (For the record, Lys absolutely did NOT scream.) They start running around like a bunch of headless chickens. Hedwig thinks it's a good idea to take it down with a lighter and deodorant. Their house is on fire now. Nene must swoop in and save the day.

Leaving an open tag! I'd love to see how your OCs would react🤩

[drippingmoon]

It's already A Day, so how about that thing I'd promised @inkovert some time ago? The unfinished/outline of that one short in which Mick and Eleanor first meet? Just for funsies and also, this is a short I probably won't ever actually finish, as I'm pivoting to the anthology and reoutlining TNS after finishing TIS. Sooooo enjoy nearly lost TNS media? :D

Also tagging the rest of the TNS taglist: @linaket @kittytikara @freedominique @aquadestinyswriting @thebejeweledwatercat @cljordan-imperium/@theimperiumchronicles, @captain-kraken (And hit me up if you want to be added/removed!)

---

Feast of Ordnir, when Eleanor was ten (and Mick eleven). It’s one of the only times she’s allowed off the grounds of Southwind Manor, and it’s strictly to appear with her parents at the festivities held by the Ordnir worshipers of Southwind. While her parents are watching a speech given by the town mayor, she manages to give her nanny the slip and escapes into the mostly empty streets.

BUT she follows the sounds of children laughing and shouting and finds herself at the edge of a field, where a bunch of children from practically every clan are running around, playing a variation of soccer with all sorts of magic thrown in. Some kids are moving the earth. Some are blasting each other with wind. Some are trying to trip each other with roots. Basically, more magic than Eleanor’s ever had the chance to see.

And at the edge of the field is another kid, not participating.

Something like: [And then, her eyes settled on something unusual at the edge of the field. Someone unusual, really. A boy roughly her age, tall and awkward-looking, in clothes that fit just a little too loosely, sat on the hillside, arms draped over his knees. His amber eyes, nearly hidden by a mess of auburn curls, watched the others solemnly. Quietly.

She couldn’t help herself. Something drew her to this boy, and before she knew it, she stood over him, leaning down to cast her shadow over his lanky form.

“Hello!” she said. “Do you know what they’re doing?”]

He starts, of course, then scrambles to his feet and stumbles over his words.

[“I . . . huh?”

Eleanor pointed to the field. “What game is this?”]

He explains that it literally is just magical soccer, then slowly realizes she’s not from around there. He asks if she’s new, to which she responds with she isn’t; she’s just never allowed to play with the other kids. When he asks why, she tells him she’s special, she guesses.

Here, he mistakes this for a claim that she’s also incapable of doing magic, and so:

[A relieved grin crossed his face, much to Eleanor’s confusion. The boy extended a hand to her, palm facing the field, in a gesture she had only ever seen when men from the city came to talk to her father.

“I’m Michael, but my friends call me Mick,” he said. Then, his grin turned sheepish. “Or . . . my brother’s friends do. And you?”

In truth, she couldn’t remember what her father did when men extended their hands to him that way. So instead, she defaulted to what she always did on the rare occasion she was presented to the children of other lords. She curtsied, head bowed.

“Eleanor,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Oh, hey!” Mick withdrew his hand and stooped to catch Eleanor’s eye. “You don’t have to be so formal with me! Where on earth did you come from to go around bowing to other kids like that?”

Eleanor pressed her lips together. Did she tell him? No. She couldn’t. The moment she told him she came from the manor outside of town, he’d know who she was, and if he knew who she was . . .

She cringed, thinking about how fast she’d be dragged right back to Nanny Clementine.

Mick straightened, his eyes curious but sympathetic. “Hey . . . are you all right? I didn’t mean to be rude. You can be as formal as you want to be. It’s not weird or anything, promise! I’m just not used to—” He cut himself off and looked away from both her and the field.]

He proposes they leave, but Eleanor asks why they don’t join the kids’ game. Mick, who (again) thinks Eleanor is also a voidwell, tells her kids don’t really play with kids “like them.” Eleanor then thinks Mick is also a high-society kid who’s escaped his nanny. (She even thinks he’s been at it for longer, given that he doesn’t seem worried that he’ll be caught, and he seems very knowledgeable about Southwind.)

Here, he takes her on a mini tour, avoiding the festival grounds (in part because Eleanor explicitly asks to avoid them), but he does show her the Bard and Bird (where they get pastries and tea—Mick says his parents “have a deal” with Poppy, which impresses Eleanor because she thinks he means his parents are lords over Poppy or something), a toy shop, the library, and his absolute favorite place, the theater (which is putting on an outdoor puppet show to kids while the adults set up).

It’s here that a few Chevalier servants catch up to Eleanor, and Mick attempts to help her escape. The two are mostly successful, getting all the way to the back alley behind the Red Rooster before the servants close in on them. Here, Eleanor uses a burst of heart magic to cast a sleeping spell, and Mick guides her into the back of the Red Rooster to hide.

They find Mick’s parents, who let them hide in the office because, as Mick explains, a bunch of bad guys are after his new friend. His parents set them up in the office with tea and promise to keep an eye out for any of the men Mick was describing.

And here, Mick and Eleanor have a conversation. Eleanor realizes that Mick isn’t a lordling at all, but this makes her more hesitant to admit who she is. Mick, on the other hand, has just realized Eleanor isn’t a voidwell and asks her why she said she was.

[Eleanor creased her eyebrows. “A what?”

Mick blinked. “What part of that was confusing?”

Eleanor: “That thing you just said. The V-thing.”

Mick: “Voidwell?”

Eleanor: “Right. That.”

Mick: “How do you . . . ? You . . . you really don’t know what that is?”

Eleanor: “Is it good?”

Mick: “What? No! It’s . . . it’s bad. It’s really bad.”

Eleanor: “Then why were you happy when you thought I was one? Do you think I’m a bad person?”

Mick: “Wha—no! No no no no, nothing like that, I swear! I just . . .” [sheepish, near mumbling] “I’m a voidwell, and I thought you . . . ?”

Eleanor, sympathetic, placing her hand on his arm: “Are you dying?”

Mick, with an awkward laugh: “No. But it’s almost as bad. Um.” [takes a deep breath] “‘Voidwell’ is . . . it’s when you can’t do magic.”

Eleanor: “Can’t do magic? A-at all?”

Mick, nodding solemnly, slumping in his seat: “Yeah.”

Eleanor: “How? Everyone can do magic.”

Mick: “So they say. Nobody ever talks about people like us.”

Eleanor: “Were you born like that?”

Mick, shaking his head: “Some people are, I guess. But in my family, all the boys just sort of stop at one point or another. I lost my magic a few years ago.”

Eleanor: “So . . . you can’t do magic at all?”

Mick, nodding: “Yeah. Or . . . I can just do a little magic, and only when I play music.”]

He demonstrates, humming and making a little bit of dust rise, swirl around, and fall. Eleanor watches with rapt attention, right up until Mick’s magic gives. The dust splats onto the desk, and Mick is left panting for breath.

[Mick: “It’s a lot easier when I’m playing the violin.”]

Eleanor locks eyes with him, speechless.

[Mick, quietly: “It’s not contagious, if that’s what you’re worried about. A lot of people are when they find out.”

Eleanor, shaking her head: “I was just thinking . . . that was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.”

Mick: “What, that? That wasn’t anything.”

Eleanor, standing, hands on the desk between them: “And you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met!”

Mick, genuinely shocked: “Huh?”

Eleanor: “I’ve never met a—what did you say it was called again?”

Mick, slightly uncomfortable: “Voidwell. And I’m not a circus freak.”

Eleanor, waving her hands around: “Sorry! Sorry! It’s just . . . I’ve never met anyone like you before. That’s so incredible.”

Mick: “Why would it be incredible?”

Eleanor: “You’re unique!”

Mick: “Again: not a circus freak.”

Eleanor: “I don’t mean it in a bad way! I mean . . . all my life, I’ve only ever met people who use magic, and all my life, Nanny Clementine and Father and even Mother told me that I had to study magic. I can’t imagine what life would be like without it. Imagine not being told what to do with your magic or what to study or anything like that.” She raises her head. “What do you study?”

Mick: “Uh . . . literature and history and math, I guess? What, don’t you have to study those things?”

Eleanor: “I do. But . . . it’s different. Everyone tells me what to do and where to go and what to study, just because I was born into the wrong family. You’re so lucky, Mick. You get to go wherever you want and do whatever you want, and because your family isn’t so very important or whatever stupid thing like that, nobody is expecting you to turn out perfect. I mean, of course I want to be a witch; I don’t mind doing magic. But it’s so tiring when you can do magic, and people expect you to do something with it. I’d rather be someone nobody expects anything of and get to decide for myself what I get to be.”

Mick, softening: “It’s not like that, really. Nobody thinks you can do anything. But . . . when you put it like that, I guess being a voidwell isn’t so bad by comparison.” He reaches out. “Eleanor, I’m sorry.”

Eleanor: “Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Mick: “I mean I’m sorry you’re stuck like that. I wish I could do something to help.”]

Eleanor thinks for a moment, then reaches out with one hand and asks Mick to be her friend. He responds with a smile and a promise that he’ll do just that, before taking her hand.

And here’s where Mick’s parents open the door and tell them they’d better come outside, and cue falling dominos that lead to Mick learning Eleanor is a Chevalier. Eleanor tries to escape, thrashing around and screaming that she doesn’t want to go back as she’s physically picked up and carried out by one of the Chevalier valets (accompanied by Nanny Clementine), and after a beat in which he’s stunned, Mick jumps into action, trying to defend her (using what little magic he’s got) until Clementine puts him to sleep.

Next scene: Martha (Mick’s mother) tends to the family garden alongside a very depressed Mick.

[Martha: “You’re thinking about that girl again, aren’t you?”

Mick, with a sigh: “I just . . . she looked so sad. She didn’t want to go, and I couldn’t do anything to help her.”

Martha: “I know, Michael. But she had to, and someday, you’ll understand.”

Mick: “Understand what?”

Martha, slowly, carefully: “That people like that girl’s family aren’t like us. People like them don’t—well. They keep themselves separate from us. It’s the way our world works, really. Some people live in houses like the one on the edge of town, and then there are people like us, who work hard every day for people like them. We have our place, and that girl and her family have theirs. It’s not a bad thing. It just . . . is.”

Mick: “It’s not fair, is what it is.” Beat. “Hey, Mom?”

Martha: “Hmm?”

Mick: “Do you think she’ll remember me? When she’s old enough to make friends with other lords or something, I mean.”

Martha: “You really wanted to be her friend, didn’t you?”

Mick: “. . .”

Martha, placing a hand on his head: “She will. Don’t you worry about that. Now come along. We shouldn’t keep your father waiting.”]

After: As Martha leaves the garden, she notices a carriage outside the house, attended to by a valet. The valet requests her and Mick’s appearance at the Southwind Manor. Though hesitant, she agrees to go, and the two are whisked away to the Chevalier estate. Nanny Clementine asks Mick to come with her, at which point this happens:

[Martha: “Ms. Dubois.”

Clementine regards her.

Martha: “I want you to know that I’m a blood witch. If anything should happen to my boy . . .”

Clementine: “I assure you, Madame Martin, your son is in the safest of hands. The lady of the house trusts me with her own children, as she has with yours.”

[To this, Martha urges Mick to go.]

One scene (or perhaps the same scene, and this is all from Mick’s POV): Mick is brought upstairs to a playroom, where Nanny Clementine, clearly irritated by the arrangement, brings Eleanor before Mick, introducing her as Lady Eleanor. She instantly lights up and rushes forward, stopping short of hugging him to curtsy instead. Nanny Clementine agrees to let the two play together but keeps a close watch nearby. Mick returns a glance, uncomfortable, but Eleanor guides him to the far corner to talk.

[Mick: “So . . . You’re—”

Eleanor: “Don’t say it. Please.”

Mick, slowly: “Right.”

Eleanor: “I’m really sorry about all of this. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was, and I’m sorry they dragged you up here. I didn’t mean to. I just—”

Mick, putting his hand on her shoulder: “Hey. I wanted to see you again too.”

Eleanor: “You did?”

Mick: “Sure. You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”]

Eleanor smiles sheepishly. They notice through a window their respective mothers meeting for a tea service in the garden below.

[Eleanor: “I wonder what they’re talking about.”]

Mick takes her by the wrist and leads her a little closer, then throws open the window. Eleanor tries to protest, bringing his attention to Nanny Clementine, but Mick grins.

[Mick: “Pfft. A commoner in a garden with a high-class lady? I get the feeling the stuff of your nanny’s nightmares has already happened. Come on. It won’t hurt to listen just a little.”]

[And so they do. Eleanor’s mother [Note: Named Amelia in the Pride shorts, but this is already the name of another OC. Change to Sabine? Amelie? Going with Sabine here.] starts off with apologizing for dragging Martha all the way up there, then goes on to explain that Eleanor has been nigh inconsolable for days, and only that morning did she finally admit it’s because she missed the boy she met during the feast. Sabine then says she’s not a heartless woman, and also, she doesn’t much care for the whole tradition of keeping the classes separate. (She’s from Eldaven, where people are still separate but more likely to interact with each other than out in the boonies.) And anyway, the only thing she wants as a mother is to see her child happy—something she thinks Martha would very much like as well.

In short, Sabine asks if they could reach an arrangement. Essentially, Mick becomes a companion to Eleanor. He’s allowed on the grounds, and Sabine, Clementine, and Eleanor will frequent the Red Rooster to allow Eleanor to meet Mick. Sabine goes on to offer any sort of support and compensation she as the countess can offer.

At first, Martha is offended, stating that her son isn’t for sale and isn’t a pet. But then, remembering his depression, she continues by saying she’d try anything to allow their children to continue their friendship. So she accepts under one condition, and that condition is that they become friends. At first, Sabine is surprised by this counter offer, but then, to Martha’s own shock, she extends a hand to shake.]

[drippingmoon]

Five Lines Tag

I wasn't tagged, but @blind-the-winds said "and you!" and I thought they meant me.

It's fot The Specters (my current WIP)

A Line About A Weapon

Nersan shook his head, took a step back and raised his hands, so the woman would back off. Emma realized her palms were curled into fists. She made a conscious effort to release them but curled them right back a moment later. The strange woman put her weapon down and tilted her head to the side.  “Nersan Ziya,” she drawled. “Long time no see.” 

A Passionate Line

She blinked, like she understood something, but not exactly the message he had for her. Something else.  He was still holding her face, a light touch, barely there. His thumb near her lips. And she watched his face with sharp intensity. The tip of her tongue slid out, as her eyes wandered to his lips and then back up. His thumb traced the drop of moisture, instinctively. She held her breath. 

A Line With Touch

Neve took a step closer to him and carefully reached out to touch his shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked.  He put his hand over hers and nodded. Closed his eyes, drawing comfort from the contact. At least she could do this little. After a few seconds he opened his eyes, then touched his lips with an open palm and extended it toward her. “Thank you.”  “Okay.” Neve muttered, flustered. He was her mentor, he was the strong one, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do now.  Anaher touched her hand to make her look at him again, then pointed at the heap of soil and leaves and pebbles and broken ceramics under the window, then at the kitchen cabinet. When she turned to look there, he pulled at her hand again and, when she looked, made a sign she didn’t know.  “Careful,” he whispered when she didn’t understand.  “With the plants?” Neve made sure. He had quite a lot of them, must have wanted to save whatever could still be saved. “Of course, I will be careful,” she promised. 

A Line That Is Shouted

Anaher [...] signed to his brother, “We’re leaving. Come.”  “No!” Troy screamed. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”  “Hey, easy.” Even Jan-Rei was surprised, but Troy didn’t pay him any attention. He charged at Anaher and pushed him with both his hands.  Anaher took a step back, air escaping his lungs from the impact of both, his brother’s hands and the wall he hit with his back. He gasped, but Troy wasn’t aware of that either.  “Do you think I wanted you here? Do you think I need you? That I ever needed you? You ruined my life! Go away! You hear me? Go away!”   He was right in Anaher’s face, his spit landing on his cheeks and eyelids. Anaher tried to push him away [...]

A Sad Line

How was he supposed to-- He looked at Emma. He loved her. She was the greatest thing that happened to him. He believed in her. The last thing he wanted was to cause her pain.  She glanced up, not reaching his face really, and then looked down at her lap again. “They followed Zane Lee’s manifesto,” she guessed, with unconcealed bitterness.  “I started to hate him then,” Nersan admitted in a whisper. “Now I know I was wrong. They are wrong--”  “Please stop.” Emma put a hand over his. “I know,” she uttered. “Tell the story.”  “Of course.” Nersan swallowed through a lump in his throat. “This is where it all started,” he said, because there wasn’t much to add. “At the very least it is one of the places where the Extremists movement was initiated. And-- I had my part in it.”  He could add how he hadn’t been here long. How, when Wendi and Willem’s true allegiance had been revealed, how when he heard about Steinn’s plans, he couldn’t be a part of this any longer. How he didn’t intend to look for Emma. He had known her before leaving Majid, they had met through Anaher. After leaving this place and going back to Majid he-- Truth be told he had been curious. Truth be told he had initiated their first meeting, his and Emma’s. 

Tagging, no pressure: @echo-bleu , @drippingmoon , @hithelleth , @daisywords , @void-botanist , @memento-morri-writes , @ryns-ramblings , @did-i-do-this-write , @aohendo and.. yeah, you!

When tackling this, replace "A Passionate Line" with "A Line About Frienship".

[drippingmoon]

OC vs A Cockroach

Rules: Rate your OCs on how well they’d fare against a cockroach

Thank you for the tags, @mysticstarlightduck and @gummybugg! I'll do this for the Invisible Girl crew :)

Fynn -- 9/10 Like with many things in his life, Fynn is an unwilling fighter. He'd spend a few seconds internally panicking and then grit his teeth and go look for a cup to capture the sad bug and release him someplace else. Lewis -- 4/10 Wouldn't even notice the cockroach, either fortunately or not fortunately. lol. Paris -- 3/10 I think the cockroach would be the straw that broke the camel's back for Paris, if the circumstances were bad enough. He'd be soldiering on, one step away from a mental breakdown, spot the cockroach, and just. lose it. The cockroach would be like "get me the fuck away from this humongous crying bastard" and it would be right. Antonio -- 1/10 We are talking shrieking. Screaming, even. This is the only time Lewis notices bugs, because he rolls his eyes and comes to gently sweep said creatures back outside. Velia -- 9/10 Velia would probably get down on her hands and knees and curiously inspect the bug before casually picking up the nearest thing and killing it without another thought.

Tags for anyone who sees this, and also @reneesbooks @eccaiia @talesfromaurea @autumnalwalker @indecentpause @willowiswriting and @sleepyowlwrites <3

Also putting the Invisible Girl Taglist under here 🏵

@blind-the-winds @drippingmoon @elgringo300 @thats-my-type-writer @sleepy-night-child @writing-is-a-martial-art @viskafrer @croctears @talesfromaurea @necros-writings @ashen-crest @teaflint @princeofthecactus @imaginationxlost @fiercely-raging-writer @memento-morri-writes @outpost51​ @josephinegerardywriter @jellybeanswriting @stuffaboutwriting @reneesbooks @charlesjosephwrites @yejidoesthings @sparrow-orion-writes @somealienquill @theunboundwriter​ @lady-grace-pens​ (ask to be added or removed!)

[drippingmoon]

In celebration of Arc 1 being done, I made little profile cards for each of the main characters! This is approximately where they would have been level/stat-wise by this time in the story.

As a reminder, Arc 2 begins April 5th - hope to see you there 😘

Taglist (ask to be +/-): @drippingmoon, @kainablue, @splashinkling, @space-writes, @aroyalpaininthecass, @thelaughingstag

Read Tales from Aurea on Royal Road!

[drippingmoon]

Sunday Six/Six Sentence Sunday

from the Jordan and Darcey thing

A long, long silence falls over the room. Darcey finally steps away from the door and Jordan scoots toward the head of the bed so Darcey can sit beside him. “I don’t…” Jordan starts, but then trails off. “I mean. I’m not dad material, Darcey. I’ll fuck her up. Of course we’ll take her in if we have to, but like. At bad times I can barely take care of myself. I know I keep repeating it, but I mean it—how am I supposed to be responsible for the health and well-being of a small human who completely relies on me?” Darcey nudges his hip against Jordan’s, and Jordan slumps into Darcey’s side. “And like, see? I’m already fucking it up.” “I seem to remember you saying the same thing about being a boyfriend a long time ago,” Darcey says gently. Jordan snorts and buries his nose in Darcey’s shirt sleeve. “And here we are, almost four years later.”

Current taglist: @abalonetea @only-book-lovers-left-alive @poore-choice-of-words @leadhelmetcosmonaut @jasperygrace @drippingmoon @athenswrites @magic-is-something-we-create @idreamonpaper @winterandwords @thelaughingstag @revenantlore

[drippingmoon]

Last Line Tag VI

Thank you, @blind-the-winds, for the tag!

Just entered chapter 6 7 of book 2. Let's see how the kids are doing.

“Aritla form, huh?” asked Rebecca. Her own form was currently a weird blob that vaguely resembled a boa constrictor with a human face. She was wrapped around Kevor, who hadn’t uttered a word since our fight. “Easier to balance on uneven ground,” I said. I readjusted the bundle in my inner claws. “They really need to invent clothes that change with you.” “Tell me about it,” said Rebecca. “I just sort of… um… formed around my clothes? It feels really, really weird and uncomfortable.”

When you and the bestie are both shapeshifters but are wildly different types of shapeshifters.

Tagging (no pressure): @ghost-town-story, @drippingmoon, @jezifster, @aziz-reads, @theboarsbride, and anyone else interested in sharing their latest writing!

[drippingmoon]

dragon dragon dragon DRAGON DRAGON DRAGON DRAGON DRAGON DRAGON DRAGON.

In other words, chapter 7 is complete! \o/ Granted, a lot of the final scene was copypasta'd from the last draft/the one I did for Camp NaNo July 2023, so if you'd like a look at the fun bits, you might want to take a look over here.

Otherwise, how's about an excerpt I didn't share last year? :D

“What did you do to him?” she snarled. “What?” “My friend,” she snapped. “You have his voice. You killed him, didn’t you?” She held her hands aloft, sparks dancing off her skin. Oh. Oh no. Of course. If he didn’t look like himself, then— “Wait!” he cried. “Wait wait wait wait! Eleanor, it’s me!” She fired the next bolt into the floor just an inch in front of him. Mick felt a chill settle into his bones when he saw the scorch mark it left. She was after blood at this point, and that was her one last warning shot. “Your favorite drink is hibiscus iced tea!” he blurted out. This was a stupid idea, but it was the only idea he had. And to his surprise, it might have worked. Eleanor’s electricity flickered and dimmed around her hands. “What?” she whispered. “Your favorite color is purple, and your favorite song is ‘The Mermaid,’ but only when it’s sung by drunken adventurers,” he continued. “We met after you escaped your old nanny at your first Feast of Ordnir. You asked me about magical football. I thought you were another voidwell.” Eleanor’s hands lowered. Not all the way, but the look on her face, the fact that her electricity fizzled away completely . . . Mick hesitantly rose to his feet. This time all four of them. “How did you know all that?” she asked quietly. “Because it’s me.”

[drippingmoon]

Heads up 7 up

@oh-no-another-idea, thanks so much for tagging me in this!💞

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asked. “We’ve been talking for a while now, and if we’re going to be neighbors for longer, I’d like to know who I’m talking to.”

“I’m not allowed to give anyone my name,” [Davina] answered.

“I’m Draak,” he said, hoping sharing his own name first would inspire some trust in her. “And my family name is Ula.”

“I like your name. Draak means dragon in some languages.”

“Oh, I… didn’t know that.”

She took a few seconds before she said, “If you really want to, you can call me Deer.”

“Dear? But I hardly even know you,” he said, chuckling at his own joke.

Leaving an open tag for anyone who'd like to share 7-ish lines!🤩