eli-t-spoon

[eli-t-spoon]

Find the Word tag

Tagged by @kitty-is-writing ages ago and apparently forgot to post it 🤦‍♂️ these are all from Rose & Thorn, which I really should get back to writing one of these days

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gone

It was all in good fun, of course, and no real harm had been done. None of her things had any real value, after all. Everyone had a laugh about it in the light of day, and Bethany couldn’t even find the energy to wish she had gone up in flames with the rest of the room. She couldn’t really muster the will to feel anything right now. At some point she would have to scavenge some essentials, shoes and underwear and the like, but there seemed little point with Kara and her gang on the warpath.

night

Bethany looked again at the blond man. “Have we met before? You look familiar,” she said.

“I was also born in Balacai,” he told her. “I left some years ago, when I was fifteen. My brother was an insufferable prat, and my parents’ golden child. I couldn’t stand it any longer, so one night I just packed a bag and walked through the wall.”

Through the wall? “Oh, you’re Peter’s younger brother! We were told you died,” Bethany said.

Lennox nodded. “They’re probably saying the same thing about you now. They don’t like to let people know it’s possible to leave.”

love

The two of them looked down at the doll ‘kissing’ the frog, and also started giggling. Susu, a woman who never spoke at these meetings but often sat in a corner with a haunted expression, quickly folded a scrap of paper into a rough circle and sat it on the frog’s head. She didn’t quite smile, but looked less sad for a moment, and Arden nodded. “Quite right, Susu. He doesn’t need to change to be accepted and loved, just like all of us.”

follow

That sounded simple enough. “Alright then. Let me imagine it for a second,” she said, closing her eyes and picturing the butterfly pencil flying around the room. There was a faint rustle, followed by a loud giggle from Briar. “What… oh my god,” Bethany exclaimed, opening her eyes to see all of Briar’s butterfly-patterned pencils had grown butterfly wings and were flitting around the classroom. As she lost the imagined picture, the wings faded and the pencils clattered to the floor. Oisin and her friend clapped on the other side of the room, smiling at her.

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idk who to tag, so open for all

[eli-t-spoon]

writecamp day 1!

woo! writemas was a lot of fun, so i can't wait to see what happens over this month :) thanks to @agirlandherquill for running this again!

if you want to join in you can find the rules and today's prompts here

for the first day I picked two prompts:

A sunbathed meadow

The weariness of time

slight warning for grief/pet loss, i guess?

It’s so safe here. Peaceful. Quiet. The sun always shines, but gently, like a warm blanket that covers us all. Flowers of all colours sway in a soft breeze, ones that are fun to chase and safe to nibble.

It could almost be a home, except… we’re waiting for someone. Each of us waits for a different person, but the wait is the same.

Sometimes we play together while we wait. I’ve found so many new friends here.

I’ve been waiting for so long. 

One by one, my new friends leave with their person, and I’m still waiting.

Is that…

That’s her!

My person!

She’s finally here!

I get up, run as fast as I can, nearly faster than my paws can carry me, longing to jump into her arms again.

There’s someone else running beside me?

No!

My person, mine!

But… I shouldn’t be jealous.

She was so young when I had to go.

She had so much love in her heart.

Of course she would have shared it with others, too.

I can share her now, can’t I?

We run together, through the sunlight and the flowers, towards our person.

Once near, I see I am wrong.

She is not my person.

I stop, let the other run to her.

They have their happy reunion, and cross the rainbow together, as I have watched so many do before me.

I lie down again, sad and alone.

I’m so tired of waiting.

Maybe she isn’t coming.

Maybe she forgot me.

Maybe she replaced me after I went.

More people arrive, and I don’t even look.

None of them will be her.

I’ll be here forever.

It’s been so long.

Someone sits beside me.

There’s a soft, gentle hand in my fur.

I look, and I hiss, darting away.

It’s some old lady. Why is she bothering me?

Just leave me alone.

Forgotten.

I’m sorry I took so long, Millie. I’m here now.

I look again, sniff her outstretched hand carefully.

It is her!

My person, at last!

She’s so old now. She was so young when I left.

It’s been so long.

She still remembers me.

She still loves me.

I climb onto her shoulders as I always used to, purring in her ear.

She laughs, and scratches behind my ears.

I hope you don’t mind a couple of others joining us?

I look down.

There are some others, but it’s fine.

We’re together again, and that’s all that matters.

She stands slowly, walks with a shuffle and a stoop now, but we know how to wait. She can take all the time in the world, as long as we’re together.

Finally, we all cross the rainbow, as one big, loving family.

~~~

some pics of Millie below cut for anyone who wants to see

[eli-t-spoon]

poor Coco 💔😢🐈‍⬛

I love the spooky fortune teller though! would love to see her pop up again some time

writecamp day 6!

thanks to @agirlandherquill for these amazing prompts and for running this challenge!

I'm trying something a bit different for today's entry. it's not connected to any of my other stuff, though now I've finished it I'm a little tempted to do something else with this creepy character at some point...

the prompt I picked was:

"Truth costs more than lies. Will you pay for it?"

Avery dragged her feet through the fair, steadfastly ignoring the flashing lights and zany music around her. Once again she had been invited only to be ditched the moment they arrived, good enough to give the group a ride but not good enough to be seen with.

She didn't even know why she'd agreed to come, aside from desperation to be included in something. The other girls were just nice enough to keep her tagging along, hoping to be a real part of the friend group eventually. If she lent them enough cash. If she took them to enough cool places in her car. If she laughed at the right times, at the right people, in the right way.

Why did she want to be friends with this lot, again? They certainly didn’t want to be friends with her.

The jumbled noise of the rides and the crowd seemed further away, here. She stopped and looked around. There were less lights, less people, in this part. The sideshows looked shabbier and older. The only thing that looked the slightest bit welcoming was a sign ahead, reading ‘Maia Rose: Fortunes Made - Futures Told’.

She could do with a bit of good fortune. It would at least be something to do other than stare at the mud underfoot and wish she was at home with her cat Coco.

The tent flap pulled aside as she approached. “Come, child. Let me tell you the wonders that await you,” croaked a voice from the darkness inside.

Hoping for at least a fun story to tell later, Avery stepped through. The tent was almost as worn out inside as it was outside. Some reeking incense burned in a corner, filling the air with a sour stench. Rotten-looking shelves held various odd things down one side, and a rickety chair stood in front of an equally rickety table. A pitted, cloudy ball of glass sat on a flat, moth-eaten cushion in the centre of it, and crouched behind was a figure so ancient and withered that it seemed liable to crumble to dust as she watched.

“Sit, dear lost child. Cross my palm with silver, and I will look into your future,” the figure said, her voice sounding as thin and decayed as she was.

Avery took the rickety chair, hoping the thing didn’t collapse under her. “Silver? Like, a 50p? Surely you charge more than that.”

“Silver I said, and silver you will pay, child.” She extended a claw-like hand.

Avery dug out the first silver coin she came across, and gave it to her. The coin vanished as it touched the woman’s dry skin, presumably some sleight of hand trick, and all the candles extinguished except one, which uplit the fortuneteller’s wrinkled face. It was a better show than she had expected, at least.

The ancient woman made sweeping, theatrical gestures over the glass ball in front of her. “Ah, I see a loving marriage in your life, dear child. A happy home, full of joy and laughter. You’ll have…” She opened her eyes a slit, watching her face. “Two… three… one, sweet little… boy, who will grow up to be a wealthy lawyer. You will live a long and happy life, and pass in your sleep at the age of… ninety two, with your son and… four grandchildren around you.”

Avery nodded. “Okay. Very nicely done. Now you’ve given me the standard spiel, can you tell me anything real about my future?” Based on the tricks at the beginning, she had thought the woman could do a little better than that obviously made-up nonsense.

The crone lowered her hands, a more serious look in her eyes now. “Truth costs more than lies, child. Will you pay for it?”

She was about to stand and leave - this was starting to feel like a swindle - but a chill ran down her spine, the fortuneteller’s eyes holding hers like fish on a hook. She emptied her purse onto the table, a paltry handful of notes and coins spilling out. “This is all I have. Please, tell me what you see.”

“Not money, child. This will cost you time. Will you pay?”

What the hell did that mean? That she’d have to sit here longer while the crone did another reading? “Sure. However long you need.”

The woman grinned, cracked yellow teeth glinting in the meagre light. “How very generous of you. As thanks, I shall leave you enough to make arrangements for poor little Coco. She’s going to miss you terribly.”

Avery tried to lean back as the woman stood, but couldn’t move. The crone’s papery, freezing hands came to rest against her face, drawing warmth and breath from her.

“Now I see, child. These years you have so kindly gifted to me would not have been kind to you. I see many of them wasted on a cruel man. I see more spent in a dull and thankless job. I see loss and pain, and a slow end from lingering illness.” As the cold seeped into Avery, the woman grew warmer, seemed less withered and ancient with each passing second. “I thank you for this gift, child. I promise I will make better use of this time than you were destined for.”

When she finally let go, Avery tore herself out of the woman’s grip. “What was that? What did you do to me?”

“You paid with your time, and I told you what would have been. Now you have no need to fear that unpleasant future, for it is no longer yours.” The woman, now plump and middle-aged, sat back on her side of the table. “I have left you a month and a day. Use it wisely, child.”

Avery stood, shaking. “Great. Thanks for the creepy bullshit, I guess.”

“You are welcome, child. Oh, and I would leave those other girls to find their own way home. They were never your friends. If they had been, you would never have found me.”

Avery stumbled out of the tent, back to the main drag of the fair. It was just a trick, an elaborate show, she told herself. Something in that god-awful incense had messed with her head. She wanted to go home and clear her head.

Screw the other girls. They didn’t care about her anyway, why should she bother hanging around for them?

She was still freezing cold from whatever had happened in that tent.

She needed to hug Coco.

She needed to say goodbye.

~~~

tagging some writer moots: @leahnardo-da-veggie @theeccentricraven @nightmaricwriter @bloodmoonloveletter @eli-t-spoon

@17panicattacksinatrenchcoat @vesanal @desastreus @mysticstarlightduck @oh-no-another-idea

[eli-t-spoon]

I love all of this so far, especially the bits you haven't posted yet that I've beta'd for you 😘

Luke & Theresa's story - masterpost

for anyone who was following the story of Luke and Theresa during writemas 2024, I've collected all the parts so far into a list here. more will be added as they're written, so if you're interested in their story, check back!

in chronological order

writemas day 14

part 2

writemas day 5

writemas day 8

writemas day 11

writemas day 12

writemas day 13

writemas day 15

writemas day 17/18

writemas day 19

writemas day 22

writemas day 23

part ?? (caution: huge timeskip)

*** more to come as I write them ***

[eli-t-spoon]

Nine lines nine people

Rules: Share nine lines from your story and tag nine people.

This is an excerpt from my current WIP, Rose and Thorn

I was tagged by @kitty-is-writing here

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Whatever this was, whoever was protecting her, it must have been on purpose. For one fleeting moment she considered heading towards the centre to join the rest, but something stopped her. Questions she had no answers to would be asked if they saw her like this, and Kara was probably still out for blood over what had happened at the ceremony. Glenn would have had plenty of time to give a tearful account of how she had only gone to find Kara’s beloved sister, found her ready to jump from the balcony and tried so hard to stop her. Instead of facing that, Bethany made her way slowly back towards the small tower on the south wall, where she had been at first.

That one was surprisingly still standing, though soaked and damaged, the storm having blown itself around to the western wall. She sat on the step just inside the door, looking out at the carnage. This was going to take weeks to repair, even with the builders working full time on it. She watched for a while, feeling oddly separate from it all, as if this was only happening in a play.

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I don't know nine people to tag, so I'll leave this as open for whoever sees it!

[eli-t-spoon]

So this is why you were asking about Finn's leg 😉

nine lines, nine people

thanks for the tag @theeccentricraven !

Rules: Share nine lines from your story and tag nine people.

this is a snippet of Forgotten Magic, after one of the more rebellious shadow dragons steps a little too far out of line for the Weyr Mother's liking.

Calla pulled Enkarini aside while Colm continued to work. “She’s badly injured. We’ll be able to heal most of the damage with enough time, but that wing is beyond anything either of us can do. She’ll never fly again, not in this incarnation.” She ran her hand through her hair, dislodging some of the leaves that were stuck in it. “I don’t know how to tell her.”

Enkarini looked at the broken and shredded wing poking out of Achlys’ right side, then at Calla’s metal left arm. “Does she need that wing? I mean, does it have to be specifically that wing, or could it be replaced?”

tagging:

@agirlandherquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @charlesjosephwrites @eli-t-spoon @17panicattacksinatrenchcoat

@bloodmoonloveletter @satohqbanana @mysticstarlightduck @kaylinalexanderbooks

[eli-t-spoon]

I love the Witch Queen, is she going to appear in a story any time soon?

Lorepost: The Witch Queen part 3

Continuing this little series of lore posts, this part focuses on the Oakshire Civil War and Queen Philippa's role in it.

Part 1 | Part 2

Civil War (1766-1767)

The Oakshire Civil War began in earnest when King Robert I summoned the Dukes of the East and South to the royal court, and proceeded to insist they relinquish the freedoms granted by the Kingdom Treaty of 1348. Neither Duke was willing to do so, and Edward DuRiza was particularly against the King at the time, thanks to Robert's treatment of his sister Philippa.

When the two Dukes refused to kneel before the throne, Robert ordered his guards to arrest them. His own cruelty would be his undoing, however, as many of the guards had seen their own families suffer under his recent harsh decrees. They hesitated in their arrest, long enough for the two Dukes to call their own retinues and escape the palace under cover of the lacklustre fight.

Duke Covingledge returned to the South, gathering his supporters and allies. Duke DuRiza rode straight to Philippa's estate near Greenwood, seeking her support to lead an uprising against the throne. Philippa agreed to stand with her older brother, lending her personal guards to his forces and her own voice to the cause. Though she would admit years later that standing against the King so openly frightened her, she showed little fear at the time.

Philippa found herself championed by the common people, a symbol of the King's oppression and tyranny, and stepped into the role with considerable enthusiasm. She viewed it as a chance to speak out on her treatment at the King's hands, and did so with gusto. Her impassioned speeches and heartfelt interviews brought much of the public to her side, and by extension, to her brother’s army.

While the war was bloody, it was also mercifully short, lasting less than a year. The Royal Guard were unenthusiastic about their duty of protecting the King and Crown, with many choosing to serve their Queen instead, and some simply abandoning their posts in disgust. Barely ten months after it had begun, as the nobles’ armies clashed in Eldham Fields, a furious mob of common folk stormed Falridge Palace. With most of his remaining Royal Guards away fighting, and those few left to protect the palace unwilling to die for the King of Cruelty, King Robert I met his end at the hands of some of his victims.

Tales of what happened between the mob forcing entry to the throne room and the King’s head being raised on a pike over the palace gates vary wildly. What is recorded are the words of Edward DuRiza, riding into Falridge at the head of his forces after a hard-won victory: “I see His Majesty’s barber took a little too much off the top.”

tag list (interact with this post to join): @frostedlemonwriter @eli-t-spoon

[eli-t-spoon]

Severance

[eli-t-spoon]

aww, kitty kisses! this is adorable ����

Friday Kiss tag!

(technically Saturday but I only just picked up the tag)

thanks for the tag @agirlandherquill !

does a cat kiss count? I wrote this the other day, it's a kind of scent-share/slow-blink kiss equivalent for my Nightcat people :)

With Ash safely tucked into their nest along with their part siblings, Soft-Paw watching over them, the other two parents retreated to their own nest for the day. It had been a long, frightening night, and they wanted nothing more than to sleep in safety.

“Thank you for rescuing our little catling, my brave warrior. Perhaps one day they will learn not to go running into places they shouldn't be.”

“We should thank the furless for helping, too. His idea of using vines to bridge the water saved both Ash and me.” Sharp-Claw’s whiskers twitched. “I shall speak with Soft-Paw and see what furless ones consider reward for such things.”

“I am only glad the night ended with all of you safe and home.” White-Tail purred softly, nuzzling Sharp-Claw’s cheek, allowing their scents to mingle. He returned the gesture, both of them moving along the other's body until their tails met, curling around each other. They looked back, with a simultaneous slow blink and shared purr, before settling into a close cuddle.

“They will be grown soon,” White-Tail said. “I wonder what the spirits will name them?”

“Runecat Moon-Eye already knows, it seems. My sibling mentioned it the day the furless arrived. They didn't say what the name is, but I can ask if you like?”

White-Tail thought about it for a moment. “No, I would rather be surprised on the naming day. The ceremony is always a joy to watch, and knowing my catling’s name before would spoil it for me.”

I'll tag @leahnardo-da-veggie , @eli-t-spoon , @theeccentricraven plus open tag!

[eli-t-spoon]

I love this! Interesting take on dragons, btw ;)

Lorepost: Magic Weaving

As picked in my recent poll, here is the lore dump post about magic weaving! There's more below the cut, since it's a looong post without a read more. Hope you enjoy!

Overview and energy types

The art of weaving, in basic terms, is coaxing two or more separate forms of energy to work together. While mostly used in reference to the energies known as magic, it can be applied to the combination of technology with one or more other kinds. The weaver at work will make a connection with each separate energy they intend to weave, and gently encourage each one to connect with the others internally. The difficulty depends on both the weaver’s skill, and the temperament of the particular energy they are attempting to weave.

There were six distinct types of energy in Drenius: kolnis, uhila, vaiuji, habumi, isithi and tatain. Each energy can be used in whichever way the user wishes, given enough skill, but each lends itself more easily to certain things. Kolnis tends more towards light, warmth and joy, and can be unpredictable at times. Vaiuji is more cool, calm and introspective, taking a more measured approach to things. Habumi is a rather natural, restorative energy, once considered the healer’s friend, and can be more independent than kolnis or vaiuji.

Uhila is thought of as the energy of the sky, a wild and free thing that follows its own path. It is capable of taking a visible form of its own, as seen in the beings known as Colourless. Isithi was once known as dark energy, and is the most independent of the types. While it tends not to take a recognisable form of its own, it can do so in certain conditions, and may form close bonds with members of other species. Both uhila and isithi are the most difficult to weave, but can be the most powerful once the weaver has developed a connection to them.

Tatain is considered to be the weavers’ energy, thanks to its inherent openness and adaptability. Alone, it lends itself to subtle support and minor alterations more than flashy displays. When worked into a weaving, it helps to make connections between the other energies and strengthen the resulting cast, allowing for more powerful or longer lasting effects. Unfortunately, tatain’s accepting nature meant it was more easily overpowered by the arrival of risnat.

When the dragons came, bringing their own energy with them, they took an immediate dislike to the varied types of energy already existing on Drenius. Used to their own, which they called magic, being the only kind on their own world, they tried to rein in the others and co-opt them into risnat.

In history

Weaving was once considered a common, almost essential skill for mages. While no species was entirely limited to one kind of energy, each type was more common among certain peoples. The Isati, beings known as fire spirits or flame demons by some, have always been connected with kolnis. The Tengra, semi-aquatic people from the western continent, are similarly linked to vaiuji. Habumi and uhila are more intrinsic to the southern continent, linked to the Diyrae and Colourless respectively.

Of the two remaining types, only tatain is historically linked to any particular race. It was once considered the native energy of humankind. It is also highly useful as a base for weaving, being a very accepting and cooperative energy. Isithi, more commonly known as shadow magic, tends to stand alone, only working with those it takes a liking to. It is extremely averse to risnat, the seventh energy that arrived with the dragons.

In the days when many people were capable of weaving, there were also closer connections between the peoples of the world, at least partly because cooperation was needed for a greater understanding of their energies. When the western continent sank during the Great Melting, the Tengra in particular relied on the skill of weavers to rebuild their homes and adapt to their new situation.

Weaving changed when risnat was pushed onto humans, overriding their natural affinity with tatain and forcing them into the more rigid structure of dragon magic. With many skilled tatain practitioners now unable to weave, connections between energy types withered and failed, separating the different races once more.

Present day

Currently, weaving is a rare thing only truly practised by hybrids. With the near total loss of human mages in Trizes during the Exodus, much of their knowledge about weaving was also taken to Slokos, leaving those remaining in Trizes with little to work from. Hybrids themselves are also highly uncommon, and often separated from part of their heritage by one parent or the other.

Those few who do manage to avoid the constraints of risnat are often hounded by the dragons, who dislike any so-called ‘contamination of magic’ by other energies. The general draconic opinion (barring a handful of exceptions) is that all magic should be under their control, ie risnat. They have little understanding of other kinds, and have worked to block or otherwise suppress it in other species.

One of the few species still practising weaving as a common thing is the Li Buqu of Slokos. Since humans had their ties with tatain broken, the Li Buqu are the only ones who remain naturally attuned to it. Their way of defining magic is different to that of the Isati, whose language granted the energy types their names. As the Li Buqu’s natural energy is tatain, they are able to easily connect with and weave other kinds. Most of them feel no need to label the type of energy they use, as all of it seems normal to them.

The bahambi are more familiar with the energies of Drenius, and have attempted to throw off the dragons’ control. Recent events across the world have loosened the bindings over tatain in particular, and this has enabled more to begin weaving again. Time will tell if this also leads to closer relations between the races, as it did in the past.

[eli-t-spoon]

yeeees go get'em mama bear!

OK I've had this specific bit of a scene in my head for nearly two years now and I've finally got to the point where I'm writing the rest of the scene. I just wanted to share this little snippet because I love seeing Kandrina go full on mama bear for her baby sister!

(from my current WIP Forgotten Magic)

The two women, one dark as night with lightning crackling in her hands, the other pale and blonde wielding a shortsword, marched towards Cassandra with matching fury in their eyes. She started to turn and face these intruders properly, but the mage threw her into the chair with a vicious spell.

The warrior pressed the tip of her sword against Cassandra's throat, hard enough that a small bead of blood welled up and ran down the blade, and snarled. “I hear you’re in charge. Now what in the Hells have you done with my little sister?

[eli-t-spoon]

I would love to know more about any of these tbh

the most popular choice gets a lore dump post about the subject!

also pls reblog for a larger sample size ☺️

[eli-t-spoon]

I love the vibes here, really gives a good idea who these characters are

Unusual Associations tag!

Found this on an open tag by @mysticstarlightduck & thought it looked fun!

Rules: pick an OC and describe what you associate with them in each category

I'll go with Ember and Soris because they're fun to write, and Caiara because I haven't done much with her lately. (below cut since this is a long post)

Soris

Seasoning: paprika. he thinks it goes with everything, and can't explain why. he doesn't care who thinks he's weird for putting it on cereal.

Weather: light rain, the kind that seems as if it's barely even raining but sticks to hair and clothes.

Colour: deep navy blue, rich dark red.

Sky: storm clouds at sunrise.

Magical power: he prefers fire, but uses ice just as often.

Plant: brambles.

Weapon: a sharp tongue and cutting sarcasm. also magic.

Social media: I think he'd use Xitter but complain about it constantly.

Makeup: none.

Candy: chewy licorice.

Fear: heights.

Method of long distance travel: carriage, or boat if water is involved.

Art style: line art that he won't admit to actually enjoying drawing.

Mythical creature: Black Shuck.

Stationery: he'd be fascinated by clicky pens if they existed in his world.

Celestial body: comet.

Ember

Seasoning: salt, and lots of it.

Weather: the heavy, humid atmosphere before a storm.

Colour: all shades of red and orange.

Sky: clear, bright blue with no cloud cover at all.

Magical power: fire and lava manipulation, she is half flame spirit after all.

Plant: eucalyptus.

Weapon: the fire dagger her uncle gave her, if her own magic isn't enough.

Social media: she'd absolutely be a Reddit troll for fun, and maybe Instagram for actually talking to people.

Makeup: heavy black eyeliner and blood red lipgloss.

Candy: lemon flavour boiled sweets.

Fear: betrayal, and losing control.

Method of long distance travel: her flame form.

Art style: stick figures, usually in rude poses.

Mythical creature: phoenix.

Stationery: pencil and scraps of paper.

Celestial body: white dwarf star.

Caiara

Seasoning: parsley and a hint of garlic.

Weather: warm and sunny, with a light breeze.

Colour: pastel greens and burgundy.

Sky: bright, hazy blue.

Magical power: she's a natural Seer, and has worked hard to develop her skills with nature magic.

Plant: carnations.

Weapon: a heavy wooden staff, in the event she has no other choice but to fight.

Social media: all of them, briefly, before she gets bored with them.

Makeup: pale blush and earth tones.

Candy: sticky syrup cakes.

Fear: her mother remembering her.

Method of long distance travel: previously horseback, but flying once she discovered planes exist.

Art style: pencil sketches, coloured in.

Mythical creature: spriggan.

Stationery: fancy quills and vellum parchment.

Celestial body: nebula.

***

I'll tag @leahnardo-da-veggie , @eli-t-spoon , @rhiannonhgarrard , @agirlandherquill , @charlesjosephwrites plus open tag!

[eli-t-spoon]

The stuggles of being a writer.

A shame that I have to actually finish my book before I get to read it. I enjoy writing it just as much but I am looking forward to finishing my first book and getting to read through it, even if I do know what's going to happen.

[eli-t-spoon]

Exactly this. I don't care if I ever get published, make money or become "successful" with this, I just want to write my lil guys, gals and nb pals doing their thing and maybe share it with others who might like to read it. Even if nobody else ever reads my stuff, I'll still write it because I want to, and I enjoy it.

please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun. please remember you are writing fanfiction for fun

[eli-t-spoon]

WIP preview

Since it's pride month, I wanted to highlight one of the characters in my current WIP. Briar is a demigirl, who uses she/they pronouns, and this is her introduction in the book.

“Mind if I sit here? Everyone else is paired up with a friend, except old Silas back there, and he likes to conjure up his own little buddies,” the latest arrival said, gesturing at the seat next to her.

Bethany looked around the small room at the others waiting. There were only seven of them here, including herself, and a wide range of ages. Oisin waved to her from the other side of the room, where she was sitting with another young girl. An older man, somewhere in his fifties from the look of it, had taken a seat in the back corner and buried his nose in a book called ‘The Beginners Guide to Conjuring’, while a pair of teenagers were giggling to themselves in the front row.

“Sure, go ahead. I wouldn’t mind some company myself,” Bethany said.

The person nodded. “First lesson? Don’t worry, Darian’s a really good teacher,” they said. “I’m Briar, twenty-eight, she/they. It’s nice to meet you…?”

“Bethany,” she said. “Have you been learning magic for long?”

“Only a couple of weeks, but I’m still stuck on the theory. There’s something blocking me from actually casting anything, we’re not sure if it’s a mental block or something else, but I can still learn the ideas behind it all.”

Bethany nodded. “Sounds like a good plan. I have no idea if I’m even going to be able to do that,” she said. “I was stuck in basic education the whole time, they never let me near a magic book."

Briar made a sympathetic noise. “Ooh, that had to suck. Which hold were you in?”

“Balacai, and it did suck. I was the only one in the class over the age of ten, everyone thought I was some kind of idiot,” Bethany said. “Where were you from?”

“I’m from Koranat, from what I’ve heard it’s one of the more relaxed holds. Since I couldn’t get the hang of magic, they offered to help me find somewhere out here that I might fit in better, and here I am.” Briar was quiet for a moment. “Balacai, that rings a bell. Has something happened there recently that might have been passed around other holds?”

Bethany thought back. “Not that I know of, but I don’t really know much about what goes on in other strongholds. I guess you might have heard us mentioned in history class or something.”

“That might be it. We’ll have to compare notes sometime, see what we’ve been missing,” Briar said. They pulled out a small mirror and fluffed at the short half of their hair. “Do you think this style suits me? I wasn’t sure whether to have it long or short, so I went with half of each.”

Bethany looked at them properly. The right side of Briar’s hair was long, dark and straight, with bright pink streaks all the way down, while the left half was bleached almost white and cropped short. “Both look good. It’s definitely a unique style,” she said.

Briar laughed. “Usually when someone says that it means they hate it.” They clicked the mirror shut and winked.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant I’ve never seen that kind of style before and it’s different,” Bethany tried to explain.

[eli-t-spoon]

Out of context line tag

Thanks for the tag @kitty-is-writing ! This is from my wip Rose & Thorn.

A miniature paper emu stomped its way across the table, inflated slightly as though puffing out its feathers, and settled in front of Cooper. “Uh… I’m guessing that’s from Sayah,” he said, reaching for it slowly.

I'll tag @kitty-is-writing (tagback!) and whoever else feels like joining in! I don't know many writblrs :'}