#Changeling Excerpts

[author-a-holmes]

Find The Word Tag Game

Thank you @ashen-crest for the tag!

I've been putting off these tag games for a while in the leadup to Changeling's release, but since it's due out in a couple of days I figure now's a good moment to share some more snippets <3

Tagging forward to; @minamoroz @queen-kass-the-writer @faelanvance @ettawritesnstudies @sleepyowlwrites @blind-the-winds @afoolandathief @artbyeloquent and anyone else who wants to play! (Tag me so I see it! <3)

Your words will be; Pale, Quiet, Grey/Gray, and Shiver.

Anger

Every time the vampire spoke, something about what he said, or how he said it, sparked Lizzy's temper.

Even now, with nothing more than a soft hum that should have required nothing of her other than the ability to ignore it, the dismissive sound lit up her anger once more.

Cool

She leant her arms against the wall, and pressed her forehead against the cool stone. Struggling to catch her breath, Lizzy fought back the prickling tears stinging her eyes.

When Andric had seconded the headmaster's opinion, it had hurt. It had been a disappointment. But it hadn't been a surprise.

What had been, was Booker.

Steam

A mug of coffee settled into position in front of her, and Lizzy blinked at it slowly. The rich scent drifted up on thin streams of steam and she drew in a slow, deep breath.

It was only as Booker slung an arm around her shoulders and claimed the empty spot on the bench seat to her left, that Lizzy started to come around properly.

Smile

"We should go to dinner," Cara said, and Lizzy smiled at the peace offering, accepting it for what it was. "But you'll need to get dressed," Cara added, "unless you want to give Mia more fuel for the school's rumour mill."

In an instant, Lizzy's smile had vanished, and she rolled her eyes even as she slid off her bed and stomped across the room to the wardrobe, "Well we can't give her even more gossip. She's overworking herself as it is," Lizzy muttered

[starry-bi-sky]

DPxDC Masterpost

Almost all of my DPDC posts have the #Danny Fenton is Not the Ghost King tags, barring perhaps my earliest aus like my Thomas Wayne Au (which will be included in the post). This tag includes art i've made, asks i've answered, and non-fic au posts I've created. This is my main tag!

DPxDC posts under the main tag that don't have their own tag: Danny's Life-Changing Cross-Dimensional Roadtrip with A De-Aged Batman Danny is also Bruce Wayne (Starry goes back to their middle school roots) Danny being the first batkid (if i can get the creative juices flowing I will expand on this. mark my words) There is a Damian clone LOOSE in Amity Park. Oh wait, Danny's got him.

My Biggest DPxDC Aus #Danny Fenton is a Clone: all my posts talking about clone!Danny.

Clone Danny Masterpost: previously my pinned post. A no-powers au where Danny is also a clone of Bruce Wayne, also includes some clone^2

#Clone^2: Clone Damian + Clone Danny au combined, explores themes like identity, found family, and growing into your own as a person. Starting post Here.

#Childhood Friends Au or #Cfau: A childhood friends dead on main au that explores grief, how it may change a person, and how growing up in Crime Alley changed Danny. Contains heavier themes like smoking and mild violence.

#Danyal Al Ghul Au: Mostly contains my au where Danny is not Damian's twin, but his older brother! An excuse for me to delve into the psychological effects that growing up in the League would have on Danny that I don't really see in other DAG aus. Putting the 'assassin' in 'raised by assassins'.

My Minor DPxDC Aus Danny Fenton is Thomas Wayne: an oldie but a goodie! An reveal gone wrong au where Danny decides to go by his middle name 'Thomas' shortly after the events of TUE, and leaves Amity Park two years later. He finds out that Vlad cloned him again and finds an infant in the lab. Danny takes the baby, names him Bruce, and ends up adopted by the Waynes.

#Danny Fenton is Jason Todd au: An au where Danny is Jason Todd! He was adopted by the Fentons shortly after the events of the carjacking.

#Older Brother Danny: contains all of my aus where Danny is an Older Brother. This currently includes only my DAG posts but it's not limited to Danyal Al Ghul.

#Changeling Danny: a half-ghost? oh, wait, no. that's a changeling. even worse! Danny's got latent fey blood from a Fenton getting freaky with a faerie some dozen generations ago, and it reactivated with a fervor when he had his accident! Instead of a halfa, he became one of the Fair Folk.

#Blood blossom au: currently the name for the time being. A Nightingale/First Batkid au where Vlad poisons Danny with blood blossom extract, and it results in Danny running to Batman! Currently only one post, but it has a lot of branching pathways in the reblogs. Batdad centered!

#tales of the passerine: the official au name for my "Danny being the first batkid" post! This au is what inspired changeling Danny. It's the idea that Danny was the first to be adopted by Bruce, and features me favoring batdad over "lmfao Danny goes fuck you bruce and adopts the other kids" au. Because I want batdad.

(Nightingale is, so far, the official vigilante name for the Eldest Batkid Danny concept on my blog.)

#mother of monsters danny: specifically its mother of monsters dan but i digress. I was messing around with my fem!Danyal au and boom! Her evil timeline self is Layal, the terrifying Mother of Monsters who raises any manner of monstrous beasts. I love her <3

Bonus Excerpt: a ficlet I made in response to a DPxDC Dead on Main prompt! It's not under the main tag as I didn't make the post, however it can be found if you search #fem danny fenton on my blog. I actually really love this idea so I may make it its own tag in the future.

[sentientsky]

words by @actual-changeling

get yourself a best friend who kills you on the daily with their wip excerpts </3

[rainbowchaox]

Continuing on Fairytale Au (Primarily involving Knight Missa and Fae Phil)

1) Chayanne doesn’t have a mother. The plot twist will be that he is a changeling child Missa decided was his son. Missa knows this but let rumors spread that the mother left him or he had Chayanne out of wed lock. He loves Chayanne so much. Even if as a Fae child he is very much mischievous.

2) Tallulah meanwhile is the fae child Phil took under his wing as she is way too curious about humans for her own good. She eventually grows to love Missa as her father. She is sorta like a nature spirit for the poppy flower.

3) Not connected to the main story but I like to imagine Cellbit and Roier have a similar story to like the crane wife. Excerpt Roier was just a spider that asked BadBoyHalo (he is pretty much a more cute version of rumplestilkin) to be human to be with Cellbit. Roier is the best seamster in the land. Missa is good friends with Roier but also doesn’t know he is a spider.

4) Fitpac on the other hand I like to imagine it’s a parody on a princess being trapped in a castle guarded by a dragon. Pac is said unwanted prince who DOESNT want to be saved (ESPECIALLY if in this au the evil king is his dad). And Fit in the OG kingdom best knight that have been secretly working on a rebellion after Missa was sent away on a death mission. And he comes to save Pac. Mike is the half dragon guard. And both run away from the castle once all realize what is going on.

5) Bad is fully the rumpleskilskin of the AU. He is mischievous and a bit mean. He is a demon that makes heroes and heroines do impossible tasks. Example he tasked Missa to empty out a lake with just a spoon (luckily Phil helped him). Phil made a smaller lake (practially a puddle) to empty because bad didn’t say what lake just to empty a lake. Bad can only appreciate the loophole abuse. Fae are best at words never forget. From my friends: He wakes up to a little crow chirping at him, so he follows it to a clearing with a little pool in it labeled "A Lake", a lake that he easily clears out with the spoon nearby

6) Bagina is fully just gay little mermaid. Tina is a mermaid that wants to be human. And Bagina is an adventurer mapping out new lands. (This is a happy ending though)

[horse-cdc]

Welcome to the Horse Center for Disease Control and Prevention, Equestria's leading group of infectiologists, pathologists, and curse researchers. Please find enclosed below an excerpt of our extensive case files on various infectious diseases that can be found around the country.

GENERAL ADMISSIONS

Rainbow Factory Infection

Moondust

Sleepwalker Infection

Chaos Infection

Chronic Wasting Disease

Variant Chronic Wasting Disease

Ruinous Vine Epidemic

Chronic Wasting Files

Everfree Infection

Magic Fever

Rainbow Rabies

Equinedemic

Uncanny Valley

my little paranoia

my little toothache

my little apocalypse

my little corruption

stuck-in-ponyville

mlpgr0undzer0

yumkandie

kingzombear

eggmilky

pinkarmadillodesigns

phoenixdoesartstuff

sundaebite

ruusukultakruunu

lagoartzs-blog

firbolgfriend

rubykingua

pina-repsi

shado-cant-sleep

shyface1004

bunnyrebzx

windywhistler

azaani-art

wyyrmwood

cosmic-nopedog

BIOLOGICAL INFECTIONS

Bubblegum Virus

Olden Virus

Dream Fever

Polychanging Virus

Blood Loss

Dreadbite Syndrome

Inanis Folliculi Syndrome

Everfree Fever

Mutated Rabies

Summer Night Mare

my little fortress

dabbingintoart

decrepitdeer

finnstati0n

mxnt-ie

PARASITES

Smile Worms

Pinkie's Senses

Banyan Parasite

Head Loss

My Little Worms

lilgoatgal

BOTANY

Rigor Root Rot

Chaos Virus

Florial Infection

Blue Flu

Rainbow Blossoms

Marrow Bloom Infection

Condren Contagion

Toxic Joke

Wandering Tree Swamp Fever

Divine Swamp Fever

Audle Posk

Variant Swamp Fever

Swamp Fever

mouschiii

ruttama-art

scarlet-wish-draws

lily-iguess

vitiligorakebaby

afishwithmanylegs

MYCOLOGY

Rainbow Cordyceps

eclipsedoodler

hardlylaced

vultureart

flitterjitters

lonelyponee

MAGIC AND CURSES

Mutant Imposter Infection

Nightmare Virus

Infection Of More

Enantiodromia

Ultionem Lunae

Night's Curse

Parabite Virus

Magic Rot

Changeling Virus

Doll Virus

Nopony Curse

Rot

Voidmatter Virus

cubecrow

CUTIE MARK DISORDERS

Mystic Corruption

Cutie Mark Contagion

Cutie Pox

Variant Cutie Pox

Cutie Fade

bootoon

CRYSTALLOLOGY

Geode Disorder

Cockatrice Disease

Crystal Contagion

Crystallovirus

swiggyswoon00

[jtargaryen18]

Hounds of Hell MC Offer

These are the first two books in my Hounds of Hell MC series at Changeling Press. I'm giving away a copy of both in ebook form (I won't get a print copy or audiobook until I have a few more stories) to one winner I'll draw at random on Monday 1/8/24.

To enter, like this post, reblog it, or comment.

On Monday, I'll post an excerpt from the third story, Axel.

Thank you so much! 💕💕💕

[peppermint-shamrock]

Fey

Fey - adjective:

Strange, otherworldly, whimsical

Pertaining to the fair folk, fairylike

Able to see the future, clairvoyant

(archaic) Fated to die; doomed

Or, the intersection between isekai and changeling folklore.

Written for Fandom Empire Prompt Tables 2024 - Prompt: "Faerie"

Read on AO3

Excerpt:

And yet that was not what happened. New rumors began to circulate, with open incredulity rather than the trappings of pity. Duke and Duchess Claes, it was said, absolutely refused to entertain the idea that their beloved daughter was a changeling. Her behavior was chalked up to the mundane boisterousness of youth, and though the Duchess was clearly embarrassed by it, she did not tolerate even the implication of fairy handiwork. A handful of servants were dismissed, without recommendation – driven away with much prejudice by the Duchess, the rumors said, after they had attempted to ward against or reveal the changeling in their midst. Not that those efforts had amounted to much. By all accounts, little Katarina Claes was completely unaware of the rumors circulating about her, unconcerned with the usual affairs or behavior of one of her class. Every new thing people learned about her seemed to reinforce the knowledge that the girl was a fairy child, far more at home in the trees and the dirt than in civilized society, and possessed of odd habits, strange words, and a ceaseless appetite.

[talesofthedm]

Shopping Trip (Pt. 1)

I want to write that one ballroom scene we never got because it's on my mind and that starts with a shopping trip, because we need fancy outfits before pissing off Gortash at his own event.

Not finished (hence part 1)

Contains spoilers for Act 3, and some references to Act 1 and 2

No i have not proofread this (or edited it)

Summary: Figaro the facemaker has had a very eventful past five minutes and he does not handle it well.

Word count: 1.6k (its short)

CW: Blood. Much blood. No combat, but it's the aftermath of one. Mentions of murder, cults, Astarion being a flirt for like 1 line.

Excerpt:

“No, that— just let me.” Astarion slung off his pack. “Gale, hold this.” The elf began rummaging through it, shoving bits and bobs in the wizard’s direction before he could even respond. Random blades, a balled-up piece of cloth that was more rag than shirt at this point, a sack of something inexplicably squishy, a severed head— “I think we forgot to deliver Nere.” There was a certain disinterest in Shadowheart’s voice that left Figaro somehow more concerned. “We can just mail him.” He tossed the severed head towards Karlach, taking pity on the poor wizard before the mountain of books and bits and useless knickknacks toppled over onto the floor. “That courier service owes us for getting rid of his cat problem.”

Freya dragged herself up from the floor, a deep gash along her side that certainly cut through deep muscles if not straight to the bone. The fire of her hair was nothing more than a ruddy brown with how much blood was caked through it. She pulled a large purse from her pack and slammed it onto the polished counter, leaving bloody handprints and a dripping trail. “How much for a rush job?”

Under normal circumstances, Figaro would scream at her and her friends for ruining his nice countertops, toss them out onto the street, and threaten to call the guards if they ever stepped foot in his shop again.

The twisted bodies lying on his polished hardwood floors reminded him that these were not, in fact, normal circumstances. He was trying not to stare at them, their bat-like faces and needle-like fangs lying beside the now charred corpse of a dwarf. If he hadn’t sipped the wine himself, if he hadn’t been forced to watch helplessly as the red dwarf unfurled his supply of saws and scalpels, if he hadn’t watched as the elf in front threw her body between Figaro and his would-be murderer with his own eyes, he would have never recognized the body as anything but an over-the-top decoration meant to scare children.

His extremities were still cold, buzzing in that sort of way it did when he would lean on his hand for too long while drawing new designs. No matter how he shook or massaged them, it would take years to get feeling back in the tips of his fingers.

But the elf woman in front of him only confirmed what he initially thought about her when she have blindly dived between him and the scalpel with her one question: this woman was mad. Completely, utterly, mad. Bleeding out on his floor, surrounded by a pile of bodies. He wasn’t sure what blood was hers or its or his or the dwarf’s or her companion’s.

To be honest, he wasn’t even sure if he still had a shopfront. What wasn’t burned to cinders was frozen solid, what wasn’t frozen solid was water and blood-logged, what wasn’t water and blood-logged was charred beyond repair. They were all mad, slinging spells left right and center as if this was some kind of fighting pit and not his entire livelihood.

What was strangest to him, though, was the woman kneeling in prayer. It was natural, he supposed, to try to find solace after such a harrowing event. But she wore armor the same as the rest of them, she brandished weapons more fearsome than that of the giant red tiefling beside her. She had flung around one of the changelings between her and her green companion with no more effort than one would play ping-pong! What could she be praying for?!

And then came the wash of light that emanated from her, cool and soothing both in color and feel. There was nothing on him to physically heal, but he watched as Freya stood straighter, her side stitching itself together as if nothing was ever wrong in the first place.

Astarion wiped his blades on the sides of hid armor, the bright red of the cloth doing absolutely nothing to hide it. He stepped over to Freya, taking her chin in his hand and pulling her to him before licking the layers of blood from her cheek. “You need a bath,” he responded to the non-question. She wasn’t even phased, accepting it with no more attention that an owner would give a pet.

They were all mad.

Freya reached up and removed a glove so she could tap the counter with the edge of her nail, directing the tailor back to the coin pouch. “Tonight. Archduke’s celebratory-coronation-whatever-it-is ball. How much?” He must have been paralyzed again. Yes, that was it. Someone had shoved a bottle of paralytic in his mouth and he couldn’t remember it. Why else would he be standing there, mouth gaping as pathetically as a caught fish. She reached up and closed it for him.

“I think we broke him,” Wyll whispered.

The simple statement was enough to snap him out of it, however. “There’s seven of you!” They all looked around, as if counting to confirm the statement, before nodding as if he was the fool. “You’re all insane!”

Freya’s response was to place another equally fat pouch beside the first. Figaro stared, dumbstruck. “I—I’ll see what I have on hand that can be fitted… Do you all know your measurements?” They all just stared blankly. Even Wyll, who had had almost monthly trips to this very shop as a youth, no longer knew the answer. Between his years banished and how unfamiliar his new body was, it was a mystery to him.

“Seriously?” Astarion threw his head back, groaning. “How do you all not know something so basic?!”

“I am one and a half blade’s long.”

“That’s not a measurement!”

“It is among the Gith. I can also provide it in arrows, if that is any easier.”

“No, that— just let me.” Astarion slung off his pack. “Gale, hold this.” The elf began rummaging through it, shoving bits and bobs in the wizard’s direction before he could even respond. Random blades, a balled-up piece of cloth that was more rag than shirt at this point, a sack of something inexplicably squishy, a severed head—

“I think we forgot to deliver Nere.” There was a certain disinterest in Shadowheart’s voice that left Figaro somehow more concerned.

“We can just mail him.” He tossed the severed head towards Karlach, taking pity on the poor wizard before the mountain of books and bits and useless knickknacks toppled over onto the floor. “That courier service owes us for getting rid of his cat problem.”

“Tressym. And her name is Tara!”

“She is cute, has a general air about her that says ‘I’m better than you’, and eats pigeons. That’s a cat.”

“So, you’re a cat?” Freya poked.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, dear, but we have more pressing matters at hand— hold this.” Astarion pulled a rather strange dagger from his pack, the blade like blown sea glass and the unmistakable iconography of Baahl expertly crafted into the ferrule. He placed it directly into Gale’s open hand.

“Is that the dagger? I told you I wasn’t touching the damn murder weapon!”

“I would never make sure your fingerprints are all over a weapon used to kill one of the most beloved priests in the city.” Next came out of the bag were the torn-up letters, the strands of delicate strands of beads, and the shining rings. A single one of them could buy out Figaro’s entire shop—no wonder the woman had thrown down bags of coin like nothing.

Finally, the white-haired elf gave a silent cheer. “Gale, buddy, put that stuff away for me, will you?” He stacked the now empty pack atop the giant pile in Gale’s arms and reached over the counter and handed a folded-up piece of paper to Figaro. “You’re going to want to double check the breast—”

“Why in the nine hells do you have everyone’s measurements?!” Wyll yelled.

“What do you mean breast?!” Shadowheart yelled at the same time.

“I’m not sure if I should be impressed or holding you at knifepoint,” Lae’zel added.

Astarion threw up his hands in defense. “We were in the Shadowlands, you all sleep like rocks, there was nothing to hunt, and I was bored. What did you expect me to do?”

“Read a book!” Wyll called to the heavens. “Like a normal person!”

“Not touch me in my sleep?!”

“You saw my collection,” Astarion waved to the now shrinking pile of books in Gale’s hands, each one meticulously being stowed away with the ghostly blue mage hand he had summoned. “I finished those in, like, one night. And I would never do that!”

“Without permission,” Freya added.

“Without permission!” he agreed. “Plus, it makes it easier to patch everyone’s clothes if I know what it is I am supposed to be patching.”

Figaro continued to stand, watching the odd collection of people bicker over something he considered so mundane.  His sister (the golden child) was a tailor, his father (the bastard) was a tailor, and he (the rightful heir) was a tailor. He'd guess inseams and shoulder width at a glance when he was bored, and he assumed the elf in front of him could do the same.

“So, what, you were just randomly guessing at the size of my thighs while we were killing Myrkul?”

Figaro waved in their general direction, the last of his sanity snapping at the way it was said so bluntly, before pointing at each one individually. You’re all insane! You’re insane,” Freya. “You’re insane,” Karlach. “You’re insane,” Gale. “You’re especially insane—”

“I’m a vampire.” Astarion smiled, flashing the poor tailor his blood-stained fangs in the process. Figaro crumpled under his own weight, eyes rolling back in his head as he hit the ground with a thunk.

“Now look what you did,” Shadowheart scolded. “Now we have to wait.”

“We could always try his sister.”

“You,” she jabbed a finger in his chest. “Nearly tried to kill a man in there. I doubt she’d want us anywhere near that place again.”

“He was annoying me! It is not my fault Freya kept talking to him!”

“He was funny,” Freya retorted. “Mostly because he annoyed you.” Astarion just stood, pointing at Freya like a child placing blame.

“Annoying someone is not a reason to try to stab them.”

“Then what the hell have we been doing for the past month?!”

“I agree with the elf. That man would have been killed day one of training for simply speaking.”

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @kaylinalexanderbooks!

ROYGBIV Tag Game

Rules: find excerpts in your WIP with the colors of the rainbow listed

Let's see what I can find in MG3!

Red: Once inside, the Montane compound was just as depressing as she remembered. The impression of a fancy hotel was impossible to shake. Red carpets and dark wood paneling, endless doors and uninspired chandeliers - all extended in a web of hallways like some plush labyrinth.

Orange: The Seer grinned for a long, silent minute as the supplicant remained kneeling. As he did, Elsind examined his face. It was beautiful, but then again, all faces were beautiful to the changeling. A braided beard reached his mid-chest, hair the color of tilled soil. His eyes were orange and wild and surprisingly youthful. Elsind would've guessed he was somewhere in his first century, though he wasn't sure how elven aging compared to dwarven.

Yellow: The caravan master narrowed his big yellow eyes. This close, Elsind could see the intricate pattern of his scales, the scraggly down in place of the vibrant feathers lizardfolk women carried, and an old scar running up his snout. It was a good face. It felt... swashbuckling, like it belonged to a pirate with a lover's heart.

Green: "It's... complicated." Astra chewed her lip as she tried to think of a way to explain. "Think a' sorcerous magic like water. Every sorcerer has their own cup a' water that they dye by holdin'. If ya pour dye water into a trough, it'll stay distinct for a while - a little swirl a' blue there, a splash a' green here. But eventually, it's all gonna mix together into a muddy brown."

Blue: In the darkness, she couldn't make out the towering trunk of a neck or matted mane of white hair she knew were present. She couldn't see the slick blue skin or the mask of a woman's face it wore, with its old smile lines and painted lips. All she could feel was the hot breath of the gaping maw that split its sternum. Her ears were flooded with the sound of gnashing teeth and pained growls.

Indigo: Instead of words, however, all he heard in response was the hiss of wind, dull as it was filtered through the trappings of architecture. Only a low whistle accompanied it as it escaped out through a window into the indigo night - bound for the horizon, Mashal supposed. Bound for the home of the gods.

Purple: The skin of the changeling's headfins, which they'd fanned out in an effort to keep themself cool, had burnt an unflattering purple, matched by an angry red across Avymere's face and hands. Their arm ached under the tightly wound bandages, as well as their feet from all the walking. With every second step, their body shuddered with the need for food that wasn't hardtack or more water than a cautious swallow.

Thank you, Elsind, for gazing soulfully into so many people's eyes. Really gave me a lot of colors to work with. Also, Kaylin, I thought you should know that my mention of the color blue decreased from 60 to 14 words from book 1 to 3. Just a, uh, fun little fact there.

I'll tag @harleyacoincidence @ink-flavored @aestatismors @mosscreeper-ao3 and anyone else who wants in :)

[surroundedbypearls]

‘CLOSET PUN’ - Excerpt #16

Juniper: The Witch Draft 1

[Excerpt below the cut!]

“Are you guys ready?” Junie asked. Running her hand along Sarah’s stone casket, feeling the ridges of the floral design, was maybe a little much, a little macabre for even a situation like this. But the others insisted they set up the circle for her, while she prepared mentally. She didn't have much preparation to do. Just thinking about the meaning of life, nothing more. “We’re ready,” Hazel said. The mausoleum smelled of sage as the candles burned, the crystals set up in the centre. It should be easier to call to her, now that they knew her name, now that Junie felt she knew her better than she’d like. She understood her. She understood the desperation she must have felt, though she didn’t like to admit it. “Are you ready?” Richie asked her. He was already seated before the circle of candles, the light flickering off the round lenses of his glasses, lighting the curls of his hair. She shouldn’t look at him like that. What good would it do her? “Yeah, Yeah. i’m ready.” No point waiting any longer. She approached the circle and sat down beside the others, taking Hazel’s hand. She squeezed back immediately, sending a flood of warmth though her. She was just good at that kind of thing. She wasn’t sure if it was a changeling thing, or if it was just Hazel. But she was glad for it either way. On her other side, she took Jet’s hand, and he gave her a grim smile. It was the best he could do. She smiled back. No point beating about the bush. “I wish May was here,” Jet said. She was surprised to see Toby sitting next to him, holding his hand. Though he wasn’t really looking at him, Junie could tell he wanted to. She wished he’d just swallow his pride and admit he was over it. What a ridiculous fight. Imagine arguing over how caring too much? Life was too short. “Me too,” she replied, and she meant it. But this was the way it had to be. “But we’ll be fine without her. Time?” Richie checked his cellphone. “11:59.”

More on Closet Pun here! Leave an ask or a comment to be added to the taglist.

[autumnalwalker]

ROYGBIV Tag

Thank you for the tag, @sarahlizziewrites.

Rules: Search your your writing for the colours of the rainbow and post the excerpt.

Passing the (optional) tag to @ieppiq, @theimperiumchronicles, @void-botanist, @rickie-the-storyteller, @olivescales3, @sam-glade, @winterandwords, and the usual open tag to anyone else who wants to try to find pieces of a rainbow in their writing.

Red: Witch's Testament: The Fighter

One last painting for you then.

One tower within a city of towers has been taken and those at the top, literally and figuratively, have met the fate decided for them by those they meant to keep below.  Down on the ground floor lobby, a witch sits on a bench as the building's lights flicker back to life, takes off his pointed hat, and uncoils his mind from his familiar’s.  He’s prepared a poem for the occasion, one that he never thought he’d get the opportunity to read aloud.  He just needs a minute or three to collect himself first.  

He’s about to ask one of his fellow witches - a woman in plain clothes with a red backpack that her arachnoid familiar is beginning to crawl out of now that the need for secrecy has passed - to patch him into the building’s intercom system when one of their co-conspirators upstairs alerts them to a situation breaking out between the protestors - no, revolutionaries now - and the office workers.  

He stands up - more out of habit than anything - and repeats his request to be patched in.  There had always been a danger that this might happen and he’s prepared a whole different poetic speech to give as timely intervention to prevent anyone else needlessly coming to blows.  It’s a shame he won’t get to recite the other one today after all, and he probably won’t get another opportunity, but such is life.

And so, as his voice echoes throughout the building once more, he speaks of love.

Orange: The Melts

Mil’s trip to the restroom to straighten up in front of the mirror was a perfunctory one.  They might have arrived late to work, but no way were they going to be late to feed the weavers on schedule.  Elam - in early and still in nir fall look of leaf-like orange hair and skin covered in gray keratin growths mimicking tree bark - gave a marginally less brusque than usual greeting when Mil pushed aside the heavy curtain separating the dim tailoring room from the shop, even going so far as to offer nir sympathies for Mil’s melts.  Mil’s more solid hand glorped over one of the nutrient slurry canisters on the shelf as they insisted that they were fine.  Just a minor case of the melts that would clear up by the afternoon.

Yellow: Empty Names - 20 - Changeling Child

“What I’m still hung up on,” Lacuna says, “is what triggered your change.  Normally it’s the death of whichever parent made the deal, but…” She trails off as her eyes alight on one of the pins adorning Tam’s denim jacket.  A heart of four stripes.  Yellow, white, purple, and black.  “How long ago did you start calling yourself Tam?” she asks.

Green: Kindly Basilisk

You’ll take two things with you.  Two things worth mentioning anyway.  The first will be a symbiotic gel suit designed for long-term all-environment life support.  You will set its default texture to a shiny green the same hue as the broadleafed water plants you grew up around and always loved.  Your exit interview will be the last time in a very long time that anyone - including you - will see your impossibly beautiful face with its perfect artisanally sculpted shape crossed with enthusiastically amateur self-modifications.  From then on, everyone you meet and spend any time with will come to think of the mannequin blankness of the symbiote fully encasing your body as your face.  It will be neither pride nor shame that causes you to present yourself as such, nor will you think of it as hiding your “real” face. 

The second thing you’ll take with you when you leave the campus forever will be me.

Blue: The Archivist's Journal, Day 313

As we guided the boat into that cove it became apparent that there were once docks here as well, although now all that remained were scattered wooden pylons sticking up above the water and crumbling stumps of boardwalk on the shore.  It had all gone unused long enough that a reef had grown among the submerged ruins.  Ostensibly we slowed down at that point for safety, but just as much, we were taking our time to look around and beneath us.  While the fish we saw darting in and out of our lamplight were not as colorful as their diurnal counterparts, the undulating polyps of the corals themselves (extended for nocturnal feeding I presume) had a fluorescence to them, subtle under the moonlight, but set off more dramatically under the light of our crystals.  Once we reached a spot where we seemed unlikely to drift into anything, Lin told me to cover my lantern as she covered hers.  After a moment of letting my eyes adjust to the dark I realized that since passing over the reef our rowing had stirred up a trail of soft blue bioluminesce behind us.

Indigo Dark Blue: Empty Names - 15 - Matters of Technique

Lacuna hands Ashan her phone, face blushing and not making eye contact.  On the screen is a manga cover with the title Crystal Witch Arya.  There, floating in the center of the screen with white staff pointed dramatically and a wry smile on her face is Ashan’s mentor.  The face is artistically stylized and the real Aliana was never so well-endowed as this fictional “Arya” character, but otherwise the resemblance is uncanny.  The midnight blue hair, the robe Ashan’s own was patterned after, the broad-brimmed white hat he had never incorporated into his own style, even the patterns carved into the staff; all of it certainly drawn by someone who met her.

Ashan thinks back to all the cases of mistaken cosplay identity this past convention season and groans.

Violet: Empty Names - 20 - Changeling Child

Ashan’s eyes flick back to the individual standing in front of the door, locking gazes.

“What was that?” he asks.

“I was hoping you could tell me.  Now please, you gotta let me in.  Before it -” 

They double over groaning in pain.  With effort they crane their neck up to reveal a face flickering between two forms.  One of an unremarkably average brown-eyed human with two or three days of unshaven stubble, and the other violet-eyed with smooth, waxy leaf-green skin.  Violet eyes or brown, the look of desperate fear and confusion is the same.  It strikes Ashan how young they are.  No more than late teens.

“Help me,” they gasp.

[author-a-holmes]

Seven Snippets, Seven People

Thank you @wordsacrossemptypages for the tag!

I'm not going to be able to share Darkling content for this one, I don't think. I think seven snippets from a sequel might be more than I'm willing to put down right now.

But I can share seven snippets from Changeling instead.

Taggin forward, with no pressure, to; @afoolandathief, @oh-no-another-idea, @sleepyowlwrites, @sunset-a-story, @ashen-crest, @fictionalbullshitter, and @mr-writes <3

One.

"What, in the realm, are you doing?" Booker asked her on a heavy exhale, his sleep-coated voice rumbling quietly as he ran a weary hand through the tufts of bed-mussed blonde hair in a vain attempt at smoothing them into place.

"Nothing," Lizzy answered, wincing. It was too short, and too sharp, and she hoped he was still drowsy enough to miss her tells.

Her hope sank when Booker paused in his grooming to blink at her owlishly. It took a couple of seconds before her abrupt answer seemed to register, but when it did his frown deepened into an outright scowl.

"Lizzy, you're fully dressed in the middle of the night, with a bag packed, and the best you can come up with is 'nothing'?"

Two.

... he let himself concentrate on the conversation the two troublemakers at his back were trying to keep quiet.

The pair were doing a good job; they were staying several paces back and speaking in hushed tones. If he were human, or fey, he doubted he'd have noticed their murmured argument at all.

Unfortunately for them both, being a vampire gave him a distinct advantage.

"It's not my fault he's acting like a—"

"Please," Mr Reed breathed, pleading, and cutting off his companion's scathing comment. With Andric's back to them, he didn't bother smothering the amused grin that spread across his face.

Three.

"I just... I couldn't stand being in that house."

"I can't imagine how difficult—"

"No," Andric agreed, cutting Hilda off, his voice quiet, "you can't. Dad's near catatonic with grief, and when he's not he's destroying the house, or picking physical fights with anyone who can punch back harder than him. Mum's splitting her time between crying, and blaming me for—"

"Your brother's situation is not your fault, Andric," Thomas growled. The sound was primal, predatory, and it reminded Andric how much older Walcott was than the average vampire. Slowly, the breath that had caught in his throat released into a sigh and he shrugged.

Four.

"Why?" he asked, and Nameer shrugged one shoulder.

"Rumour is, he's on the warpath. Does it matter why?" he asked, sighing before uncapping their prescribed daily dose of animal blood and stirring it into his mashed potatoes, giving Andric the perfect excuse to grimace in disgust.

"We all know he's a prideful little shit," Nameer continued. "Just figured you might want to be on hand, in case someone needs to have their back."

"Yeah, thanks," Andric murmured, glancing away from the ruined mash and blood, and letting his eyes skip across the hall...

Five.

"You... you believe me?" Lizzy asked, blinking in shock.

"You've no reason to lie."

"Well, no. I don't, but— but everyone else—. Even with Cara's help, I—"

"I am not in the habit of deluding myself, just because the reality is something I don't wish to contemplate," Gladstone said, lowering her cup to the desk.

Six.

Even as the words spilt over his tongue and across his lips, Andric knew his tone was too hard, too harsh, and her shell-shocked expression only reinforced that.

Booker was glaring at him, and Andric sighed, "Lizzy—"

"Don't," she hissed. "I don't want to hear it."

She spun on her heel and stalked over to the door, yanking it open and disappearing into the hall before Andric was able to shake himself out of his shock.

Seven.

It was the growing silence that made him grind to a halt, Lizzy almost stumbling into him at his abrupt stillness. He could feel the weight of her gaze on his face and swiped his thumb across her hand again, but he couldn't spare her any additional reassurance, before tilting his head to listen to the forest.

His brow furrowed, as he strained his hearing to its limits, but there was nothing.

Not a bird ruffling its feathers, not a mosquito whining in the distance. Perfect stillness, and Andric felt nausea begin gathering in the pit of his stomach.

[ivorygarcia]

IVORY. writeblr introduction

links: world anvil | twitter | 4thewords

about

i have always wanted to join a writing group, and writeblr seems like a fun way to get to know other writers. i'd love to swap work with people and i am down to do alpha/beta exchanges. i also adore hearing people gush about their characters and ideas!

follows! i really love fantasy (every flavour) and science fiction (hard or soft) so i tend to enjoy following people working on projects in those genres.

ask box? open! tag games? welcome!

personal tag: #ivory speaks

project

navigation: microfiction | excerpts | poetry | lore

i am currently working on a contemporary fantasy world that evolved out of a map i started sketching. it started to get more and more detailed until there were stories that i wanted to tell.

title: eorde ascending genre: contemporary fantasy | there is everything that makes up a fantasy setting (magical creatures/races/magic itself) but set against the backdrop of vaguely early 20th century technology. some stories will take place in cities and lean more into urban fantasy, but not all of them. i do tend to love shapeshifters. a lot. setting: eorde | a world with two major continents [the elderlands | the farlands] and peppered with thousands of islands. inspirations: craft sequence, anita blake, kitty norville, psy-changeling, vampire chronicles, jade city notes: i am currently focusing on organizing my lore and writing some short stories & poetry. i would like to write a novel, perhaps for nanowrimo, in this setting.

projects tag: #eorde ascending

current work & updates

camp nano july 2023

world anvil summer camp

[sentientsky]

here’s a quick lil sketch thing i made for @actual-changeling instead of going to bed at a reasonable time (based on their achingly beautiful msr wip!!!! go read the excerpt it is so fucking good i promise)

[ashleyfableblack]

Continuing from the events of "The Jello-shots Incident"

Agent Sweetie Drops sighed heavily, thinking over the catastrophic events of the evening. It had all begun so simply, four inter-species couples, out on the town as friends.... "Once the karaoke contest got going-" She thumped a hoof on the interviewing table. "-that was when things got out of hoof. We all voted that Queen Chrysalis should be disqualified from competing. It felt uncomfortable, maybe a bit racist but still, the facts are that Her Changeling ability to perfectly mimic voices gave her an unfair advantage. She grumbled about it but with her wife present, she yielded without incident. Though she did insist on opening things up with a spicy little number from 'Good With Horseshoes'. That was when I should've ended things." Caufax Cauliflower raised an eyebrow. "Queen Twilight?" "Yes Ma'am." Sweetie Drops rolled her eyes. "I swear. Those two are just..." She shook her head, rubbing at her temples. "I know." Caufax sighed. Reaching across the debriefing table she refilled her water glass and pat her shoulder sympathetically. "We've had to re-assign agents to them several times now." Sweetie Drops chuckled and sipped at the glass. "It's unreal. It's like every time you get them together they turn into a bit-store romance novel, that or a stag film." Sweetie drops pantomimed excitedly. "Chrysalis started singing at her and just like that I swear Twilight was about to take things into adults-only territory..."

[snowwhite-andtheknight]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2023 Master Post

After six weeks, Obiyuki Au Bingo has CLOSED! Although all our challenges at the comm are not competitive, we like to have a few fun stats to close out the end of bingo:

Highest Scorer (each square 1pt, bingo 5pts, blackout 25pts): @onedivinemisfit (14 points, 1 bingo & 9 squares)

Runner Up: @writing-my-mind-ink​ (13 points, 1 bingo & 8 squares)

Most Spaces Filled (outside blackouts): @onedivinemisfit​ (9 squares)

Number of Players with Bingos: 8 out of a possible 14

Total Number of Works: 55

Total Fics Written: 31

Art Pieces Completed: 20

Playlists Made: 5

Total Words Written: 81,789 words

[Works By Creator, under the cut]

@batgirlsay​

Falling Through Time Mockingjay and the Miner

@claudeng80​

Caught Changeling, Chapter 7 How the cookie crumbles Sands Through the Hourglass, Chapter 1 Sands Through the Hourglass, Chapter 2 Sands Through the Hourglass, Chapter 3 Sands Through the Hourglass, Chapter 4

@h0rizn​

Anything Can Happen Out There The Best Blaze Burns the Brightest drift compatible Some Elbow Room, Please Someone’s Got to Be the Genre Savvy One Around Here

@kpslp​

2nd (Usually) Sucks After All is Said and Done Anthithesis If Only I Could Invincible

@leewritingrecs​

Luck Be a Lady Mystery at Laxdo Olin Maris

@onedivinemisfit​

Confession of a foolish bruxa got a doctorate in giving himself problems he just wants them to get their vaccinations Here at Camp Grenada never running from a real fight Our little one~ Reminiscing… Speak. Speak and Let Me Save You would you look at me like I’m not looking 

@ruleofexception

Desperate Measures, Chapter 2 I’m Not Here to Hurt You A Moment Apart No good deed A thorn in the sky, Chapter 5 (excerpt)

@sabraeal

All That Remains, Chapter 11: The Prince and the Princess [Part 1] Brewed With Intent Get Up Eight, Chapter 10 Greatest Little Show on Earth Sic Semper Monstrum, Chapter 8 The Strong Pack Thrives, Part 1

@social-mockingbird

in the name of the moon…something something…whatever So This Dame Walked In Stop Throwing Tomatoes sunlight eyes Won’t you come down from your tower?

@starlightsmoon

The Mark Makes the Man

@writing-my-mind-ink

Always by Your Side, Chapter 1 Cutting Edge I swim pretty boy Love on the Silver Screen Never Gone My Way Renovate my Heart Say My Name Sweet as Belladonna, Chapter 1