shewrites-sometimes

[shewrites-sometimes]

This was so well written! I loved Patriconius's self doubt at the end

Emergency Hearing

Today, I give you a bit of dragon culture building! In the far future, in an age of industrialization and modernization, relations between humanity and dragonkind have reached their boiling point. The dragons, sick of it, arrange a meeting to put an end to it for good. Though, since some of you may know that Geralthin does reach the modern age intact, I think you know how this ends…

Guest starring a previous character of mine, from way back in the Sorcerer Series! He’s much older here…

Geralthin had changed, as of late. The kingdom grew ever stronger, its people ever more numerous, and its prosperity seemed to climb ever higher…

Something had to be done.

Patriconius had arrived early. He wanted to make a good impression, appear diligent and eager.

It was an honor he was granted a front seat, and granted the position of First, after all.

The young, red dragon sat at the center of a massive stretch of plains. This place was massive, surrounded by mountains…and utterly desolate.

The humans knew this land was not their own…or at least, they were not foolish enough to try and take it.

Patriconius turned his gaze above, watching the many dragons far above him fly from all directions as they arrived to the meeting.

He smiled. It was not often so many got to meet like this. Indeed, dragons did tend to hide away, or live in solitude so much…it was a welcome reprieve to at least be social…even it was purely professional.

Every color conceivable was about the area. Dragons in the sky, landing in the growing crowd. Red, green, blue, black, white, gold and everything else…every hue of the spectrum shone bright as their entire species came from near and far for this special occasion.

“Patriconius.”

That voice. That deep, melodious voice…

He whipped around, and before the crowd, marching slowly towards him…

“Laionikou!” he nearly cried out in exuberation, only just able to control himself.

The towering, enormous green dragon gave Patriconius a confident smile. “You are early.”

“Ah, but of course,” the red dragon replied with a grin, “I must be ready under any circumstances!”

The young dragon quivered ever so slightly, mentally chiding himself for it…yet he just couldn’t help it. An elder dragon, a massive, towering legend among even his own people…the smaller, younger dragon felt a deep wave of admiration, of thankfulness and joy…and just the slightest hints of fear. The elder commanded such respect and presence…

Patriconius’ mind raced as he bathed in these unusual feelings. Is this…how my servants feel, before me?

Keep reading

[shewrites-sometimes]

reblog with your pet(s)’s name, why you named them that, and a fact about them in the tags

[shewrites-sometimes]

April Prompts, Day One

Prompt: caged

@writeblrs

Be a rebel, they said. Overthrow the government, they said. It'll be fun, they said. What they didn't say is that they put you on cages after you're captured. And they reek.

After hours of daily interrogation and torture, they threw Caleb and I in a small five by six enclosure for the night. Today was different. We had been locked in there all day, and the smell was beginning to get to my head.

The government, unfortunately, did not take kindly to our attempted coup. As further punishment, they fed us rotten food, gave us a bucket of dirty lake water to drink out of, and failed to supply us a waste bucket. We were forced to "go" in a corner of the cage, giving whatever guard happened to be on duty quite a show.

"They're playing mind games." I decided. I had had an epiphany. It was the most genius thing anyone had ever thought of. They were trying to break us down and make us talk.

"No shit, Sherlock." Caleb responded in an irritated tone. Maybe the smell was getting to him, too. Or maybe it was the heat.

Either way, the heat and stink weren't bothering us for long, not after they started putting the gallows up. I couldn't see very well without my glasses, which had been confiscated, but Caleb assured me that's what they were doing.

An armed guard that we were too busy to notice opened the squeaky door of the cage, and motioned for us to get out.

When we weren't going fast enough, they yanked us out and threw us against the metal caging, pressing our already scarred and beaten our faces into it while they put our cuffs on. Then we were immediately separated and led into different entrances of the building where they did their interrogations. It was the same old routine, and I was getting bored of it, to be honest. Probably not a sane thought from someone who was most certainly going to die by sunset, but oh well.

My interrogation room was always the same. Grey walls, a one way mirror in the back, a wooden table set in the center, and the same interrogation man sitting behind it. But today something was different. Today there was food.

Burgers, pizza, fruit, salad (who would want salad after a month of near starvation?), and an assortment of other foods now considered delicacies by most of the public.

"Hello, Joshua." The man always used my full first name, but it made me wince every time. No one ever called me that.

"Hello, man in black suit." I sat down in the chair across from him, trying with all my might not to look at the food in front of me.

The man's lips twitched into a smile. "You must be hungry, after a month of eating week old leftovers, huh?"

"Hungry? No, rotten leftovers is child's play. You should see what some of the kids back home have to eat."

If my words bothered him, he showed no sign of it.

"Joshua," stop calling me that, asshat, "surely you heard the gallows go up. Doesn't that scare you?" He didn't wait for a response. "I can make all the fear go away, if you just sign our little contract.

Ah, yes, the contract. I basically agree to 50 lashes, the selling out of my friends, -- and my morals -- and life imprisonment. I'm sure the food was just there to make me break. I'd never get any like it as long as I lived if I agreed to their little deal.

The food did look delicious... and made my mouth water uncontrollably. Maybe life in prison wouldn't be so bad....

No. I didn't spend the last month of my life in complete hell just to be undone by a few pieces of meat.

Signing my death warrant, I leaned across the table and spit at the man. It landed on his lip, though I was aiming for his eye. And that was the end of that.

The guard hauled me from my seat and walked me to the gallows, where Caleb and death awaited me.

His noose was already placed carefully around his neck, and I waited for the executioner to do the same for mine. He freed our hands while he was at it.

If this were some kind of cheesy or inspirational movie, there would be a beautiful scene for us to die before. A lake, maybe, and a sunset.

But this wasn't a movie, so there was no lake, no sunset, only a hundred troop barracks and a desolate mountain range sat before us.

Caleb and I were read our crimes. Instinctively, we grabbed each other's hand, and didn't let go until the executioner pulled the lever.

[shewrites-sometimes]

You don't have to call me out like this

Me: you have to plan out your stories on at least a basic level if you don’t you’ll get 3 chapters in and have no idea what the hell you’re doing and quit forever out of frustration

Me 5 minutes later on Microsoft Word, smashing together a weird dream I had, 2.2 characters, my extremely vague grasp of a historical time period I like the Aesthetic of, and a note I wrote on my phone at 3:22 am last night that just says “what if chickens were rly big”:

[shewrites-sometimes]

Those of y’all participating in Camp NaNo this April...

Remember… Have fun, don’t stress yourselves out if you don’t make your word count, and pat yourselves on the back for doing awesome. Y’all are great!

Those of y’all not participating in Camp NaNo this April (like me)…

You’re still a writer if you can’t partake. Don’t feel bad that you have other priorities to take care of (graduations looming, finals, other things involving life and previous engagements). Y’all are great!

Love your craft!

[shewrites-sometimes]

me: i wanna write, i feel like writing

*opens a doc*

me: ok brain now let’s write

my brain:

[shewrites-sometimes]

Dear Recovery Characters

I thought I'd post this since Camp NaNo is tomorrow

Juno -

Flower crowns

Loves sunsets

Anxiety

Small friend group

Memories she can't let go of

Jonathan -

Juno's dad

Loves Juno

Dad Jokes

Should be a gourmet chef

100% supportive of Juno and her friends

Oryn -

Autistic and proud

Bullied

Asexual

Extroverted af

Impulse control who?

Nesta -

Leather mink skirts and cigarettes

Just wants to be happy

Asexual

Piercing goals

Survivor

Rhys -

In love with Faye

Sappy romantic

Love poems at 2 AM

Always compliments everyone

Easily embarrassed

Faye -

Deaf

Future Black Panther

In love with Rhys

Taller than her bf

Easily excited

Willow -

Nervous wreck

Freckle goals

Always needs a hug

Bulimic

Type 1 diabetic

[shewrites-sometimes]

Eek, tomorrow's Camp NaNo. I'm so excited to finally start working on Dear Recovery! I just really hope I'll be able to complete my goal of 20,000 words and not get distracted by school or track.

Who else is doing Camp? Tell me about what you're going to work on!

[shewrites-sometimes]

I wrote 3,099 words on Jaded Souls today and it's safe to say I've been bawling my eyes out the entire time. I'm stuck on the scene I'm currently writing, so I decided to skip to the end and boy was that a bad idea.

[shewrites-sometimes]

reblog if i can message you and awkwardly make conversation with you so we can become best friends

[shewrites-sometimes]

Charles is so sweet and polite! And I love the way you wrote his and Professor Parsib's relationship. Could I be added to the tag list?

Day One

The path to the complete mastery of the art of magic is a long and perilous one. Everyone has to start somewhere, and it’s within the halls of a reputable university that Charles, the worried and withdrawn half-dragon, sits down for his first day as a magician-in-training…

Just a fun little short adding onto the backstory of Charles, fleshing out who he is and what it’s like at a university, even though this class is far from the norm. Normally, the professors are looked up to and highly respected…though it’s this professor’s exact situation that makes Charles empathize with him.

“It’ll be okay…it’ll be okay…”

These words were being muttered by Charles. The dragonoid was walking down the halls of the Lourinka University, headed towards his very first class.

It was supposed to be a grand day. A joyous occasion. Finally, after all these years of dreaming and wishing, he was at a college for the arcane arts. He’d finally get to live his dream. He was going to become a wizard.

So why did it feel anything BUT great?

The would-be magician was frightened. Sad. An absolute wreck. He’d settled into his room a few days ago, but only now did his classes begin. In the meanwhile, he was thinking back to everything else.

His father, who he’d spent his entire life with up to this point. His lovely home. His room. His bed. His bookshelf. Those days he and John would sit up late and talk about life together.

He was utterly homesick.

In addition, Charles feared what would happen when he finally reached class. The staff had assured him his fears were unfounded. “The student body is most familiar with the other species,” they said, “They know the repercussions of singling you out”.

Still, he couldn’t help but worry. He was sure he’d do something foolish when he introduced himself, and all the students would spend the rest of his enrollment here laughing at him.

Father had given him a big speech about how he should “be himself”, but he wasn’t sure if anyone here would like who that “he” was.

Would anyone be his friend? Would anyone even be able to stand him?

The dragonoid was suddenly thrown back into reality when the sounds of deafening scraping assaulted his senses. He looked down in embarrassment. A long trail of scratchmarks were going along the hall, from where he came to where he was standing.

He had been so anxious he had been dragging his claws along the floor!

“O-oh no, oh, no! Oh no! Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

Keep reading

[shewrites-sometimes]

Good afternoon, it’s a great day to be in love with your WIP!

[shewrites-sometimes]

Calling all writeblrs! 

I’ve finally bitten the nightmare bullet and started a writing blog, but boy am I lonely right now. I’d love some mutuals/mentors/crisis buddies, so reblog this and I’ll follow you, or even drop me a message if you’d like a clingy new friend! 

[shewrites-sometimes]

Flash Fiction Friday

Theme: Fight me

@cawolters

Rage emanated from Kyria. Her nostrils flared up with every breath. Charred bodies littered the battlefield around her. The stench made her eyes water, but she had to look. These were her soldiers. They died because of her negligence.

Behind her, a twig snapped. Someone was panting, so close that she could almost feel the breath on her neck. No, this wasn't her fault. It was his.

She drew her sword and turned to face Saul. His face was dirty and covered with blood, but none of it seemed to be his. Tears leaked out of his rue filled eyes and stained his cheeks.

If he hadn't just murdered over a thousand soldiers, she might have felt bad for him.

"Kyria..." Saul's voice was racked with emotion.

"Where were you?" Kyria snarled at the soldier. She took a step toward Saul. With just enough pressure to draw blood, she thrusted her sword into the base of his neck.

Saul didn't flinch. His eyes bored into Kyria's.

"I heard someone scream for help." His voice cracked. "You couldn't have expected me to --"

"I expected you to remain at your post until I gave you the signal!" Kyria snaped. The sword pressed deeper into Saul's throat. He took a step back, tripped over someone's charred remains, and fell to the blackened ground.

Saul looked around, disgusted at what he had caused. His obvious misery only fueled Kyria's anger and bloodlust for him. Beside her lay a soot covered sword of the enemy. Her sword was pulled away from Saul's neck as she tossed him the dirty sword. The grip was sticky with blood.

"Get up." She barked.

The sword seemed to put Saul under a trace, because he refused to look away from it.

"Get up and fight me, you coward!" Kyria screamed at her friend. Saul's blood being spilled was the only thing on her mind, but should wouldn't kill him without a fight.

Holding the sword with both hands, she swung it through the air, and took a large chunk out of Saul's shoulder.

He cried out in pain, clutching his bloody shoulder. But he still didn't get up.

Saul blew out a ragged breath. "If you're going to kill me then do it, but I'm not going to fight you." He spit out.

Another blood curdling scream escaped Kyria's raw throat as she drew her sword over her head and swung it through the air with a whoosh.

Again, Saul didn't even so much as flinch as the sword was thrust deep into the soft ground beside him.

Spit from Kyria flew in his face as he looked up at her. She yanked her sword out of the earth and walked into the forest without looking back.

[shewrites-sometimes]

Some more OC stuff

Now, the Finding Faith group:

Esther -

Cleanliness is next to godliness

Probably runs a studygram

Low key crushing on Jesse

4.0 GPA

Wants to be a homemaker

Jedidiah -

Shitty parents

Drug addict

Thinks she's past redemption

Religion? Ew

Latina Power

Aisha -

Hijabi girl

Loves pastels

Eyebrow goals

The sweetest person ever

Tries too hard

Jesse -

TobyMac concerts

Hair goals

Cute smile

Low key crushing on Esther

Hopeless romantic

Cullen -

Basketball is life

Douchebag

Responsibility who

Eyebrow goals

Wants a suped up truck (we all know what that means)

Pastor David -

Doesn't know how to clean

Lives off of microwaved food

Not proud of his past

Charismatic

Forgiving

[shewrites-sometimes]

Some OC info

It's been a while since I've posted anything, so I decided to post some info about my OCs. First, the Jaded Souls gang:

Maya -

Main protag

A bit of an ass

Means well

Wants to eat the rich

Rebel

Rae -

Maya's bestie

Heart of gold

Born to protest

Will probably end up dedicating her whole life to bees and women's rights marches

Hopelessly in love with Samuel

Tobias -

Maya's love interest

Has to be dragged out of a bookstore kicking and screaming

Volleyball lover

Shitty parents

Cinnamon roll

Tripp -

The calmest person you'll ever meet

Has been to countries you've never heard of

Also shitty parents

Rock climbing junkie

Super health oriented

Samuel -

Will probably become a professional painter

Hopelessly in love with Rae

Trying his best

Cautious

Avoids conflict at all costs

Carlos -

Never. Stops. Eating

When he's not eating he's sleeping

Secretly hella smart

Covered in tattoos

Super sweet

Carter -

High key smart

Also loves volleyball

More shitty parents

Loves cooking

Charismatic

Ben -

Maya's estranged dad

Tries his hardest

Doesn't know how to parent

Writer

Nervous in front of women

[shewrites-sometimes]

A Project!

Hi all!

This is a bit of an unusual announcement, but I’d really appreciate if you read through it. I’m really sorry for being not so active recently, and I really hope I’ll be able to manage this blog more actively in the future.

I know this is a bit out of nowhere, but I’d have a big favour to ask of all of you guys. In short, one of my assignments for college is to do a statistical study on a subject of my choice. I thought it’d be a nice project if I could study writers in general and the reasons that pushed them to start writing, as well as their confidence in their own work.

What does it entails, exactly?

I’m looking for a minimum of 150 participants to answer a very short survey (link at the bottom of this post). I’ll use your answers as my basic data  Your information will remain confidential and will only be seen by me. My teacher will only have access to a list of the questions and organized compilations of the data I gathered.

The only thing necessary to participate is to write on a pretty regular basis– be it fanfiction or original work, journalistic articles, poems, etc.

I have until the end of March for data collection, so please, I’d really appreciate it if you could take five minutes off your time and answer the survey.

Since my first language is French, there are two versions of the survey. Use the one you want!

If you have any questions or concerns about the project, don’t hesitate to ask! And thank you in advance!

Now for the links: English version | French version