reneesbooks

[reneesbooks]

15 question OC interview [Fynn edition] 🕑

Tagged by all the lovelies @ghost-town-story @fanged-solace and @willtheweaver -- thanks, guys! I love writing these they're so fun :) Today we're going to interview Fynn!! I'm very excited for this as his character recently got a bit of a behind-the-scenes makeover and has some new backstory. :)

Previously on, in case anyone wants to view, are Antonio's interview, and Paris's.

"We gather here today..." Antonio intones, holding his notepad and lantern as though he is the sole survivor of a doomed expedition in the jungle. "For a bold and momentous occasion."

"Speak for yourself," Paris says, leaning against the wall behind him. "Some of us gather for the entertainment." "Being me," Fynn says dolefully, trying not the clutch the armrests of his chair so tight that he ruins the fabric.

Are you named after anyone?

Not a terrible question to start off with, all things considered. "Yes," Fynn says. "My grandfather. He died when I was only a few years old."

When was the last time you cried? And a terrible second question. Fynn eyeballs Antonio, but he just looks normal. Which is to say, like an utter loon. Behind him, Paris and Velia knock their shoulders together. Only Lewis has some measure of sympathy on his face. Probably because he knows he'll be next before too long. "I don't remember," Fynn lies. He did remember. It had been the night before he'd decided to leave the city. Antonio raises an eyebrow but scribbles the answer down.

Do you have kids? "Booo," Velia says loudly. Antonio twists around in his seat to glare at her. "My older sister has children," Fynn says before either of them can start a fight. "I've only met the oldest two. They are some of my favorite people in the world."

Do you use sarcasm?

Fynn sighs. "Alas yes."

What's the first thing you notice about people? "I don't really," Fynn apologies. He tries not to wilt under the four confused gazes suddenly latched on him. "I'd make a terrible detective." "Not at all?" "Leave him alone, Antonio," Lewis says, and what do you know, Antonio moves on.

What's your eye color? "--I don't know," Fynn says, thrown. When has he ever noticed, or cared? Lewis scurries over and kneels before him. "Gray," he says. "Like steel beams. Or coal smoke." Fynn smiles down at him. Lewis winks.

Scary or happy endings? "I don't like endings," Fynn says honestly.

Any special talents? "No," Fynn says, frowning. "But I've skills. I'm a mechanic by trade, I know my way around an engine and the tools needed to maintain her, and a fair bit of carpentry as well." "And you're good with kids," Velia adds. "That's a skill alright."

Where were you born?

Fynn can't help but grin, thinking of home. "Norway."

What are your hobbies? Fynn frowns. "I'm a working man--" "Oh shut up," Antonio whines. "Live a little, Fynn. You're here with us, aren't you?" "Then you're my hobbies," Fynn says, just to see their faces. They don't disappoint.

Have you any pets? "I can hardly feed myself on a good day," Fynn says, realizing he's calmer now than he expected to be. "Can you imagine a dog trailing after me?" "How about a rat?" Paris suggests unhelpfully. "Since they're already your roommates?" "Or a pigeon?" Velia adds. Fynn rolls his eyes. The two of them, honestly.

What sports do you play/have played? "This is ridiculous," Fynn mutters. "Yes, ridiculous," Paris says, almost like he's been waiting for it. "Quite right, Fynn." Antonio shoots him a look. "I didn't invite you, you insisted on accompanying us. At least get out and leave us be." Paris leans down, grabs the notebook and reads off the next question.

How tall are you? "Fynn," Paris finishes, laughing a little. "Have you a measuring tape in your pocket?" "Yes, actually," Fynn says sheepishly pulling it out. He hands it to Antonio when he sees how large his grin is. Paris throws his hands up. "Might as well actually measure then." "Six foot one inch!" Antonio says triumphantly. "Good lord you're tall."

Favorite subject in school? "I stopped going to school when I came to America to work," Fynn tells them. "I can't say I miss it."

Dream job? "My job now," Fynn says. "With my family nearby and well and a steady paycheck." "And a flamingo," Antonio says promptly. Fynn stares. "Just to spice your plans up a little," Antonio elaborates. "Worry not, I will supply it." "You're going to make me steal from a zoo, aren't you," Velia says grimly. Antonio smiles.

Gentle tags for anyone who made it all the way through that, and also @zmwrites @revenantlore @reneesbooks @saltysupercomputer

@pertinax--loculos @sparrow-orion-writes and @penspiration-writing <3

#antonio and lewis my beloved... #flynn my beloved…. #invisible girl cast my beloved ❤️❤️❤️ #reblogs #bookshelf #it’s my morbo 🥺🥰

[reneesbooks]

.......it's time for more incorrect quotesssss

And you know that means more crazy train crew shenanigans! Thanks for the tag @eli-writes-sometimes and @mysticstarlightduck! If you don't remember tagging me, that's because it WAS that long ago. 😭😉

Link 💗

Lewis: You borrowed a crane? Antonio: Not exactly. Paris: You stole a crane?! Antonio: Exactly. Fynn: How has life been treating you lately? Paris: Horribly. Velia: You’ve got to learn to love yourself. Antonio: But don't you hate yourself. Velia: Yeah, but this is about you. Stay focused. Velia, texting Fynn: I’m a theif. Fynn: Thief. Velia: Theif. Fynn: I before E except after C. Velia: Thceif. Fynn: NO. *after discussing a plan* Antonio: Does anyone have any questions? Paris: Is this legal? Antonio: Does anyone have any relevant questions? Lewis: You deserve a reward for putting up with me. Antonio: You are my reward. *meanwhile* Paris: You deserve a reward for putting up with me. Velia: True, you can be really difficult at times Antonio: I believe in you, Velia! Velia, to herself: God, I must suck. The nicest thing Antonio can think to say to me is that he doesn’t doubt my existence.

That last one is like. Literally the whole plot of the story 😂. Tags for anyone who wants to see this and also @ashen-crest @liv-is @loopyhoopywrites @did-i-do-this-write @sleepy-night-child

@sleepyowlwrites @winterandwords @eccaiia and @reneesbooks (you don't have to play or anything if you're still taking a break but I wanted you to see <3)

#invisible girl cast my beloved ❤️❤️❤️ #reblogs #it’s my morbo 🥺🥰 #bookshelf

[reneesbooks]

sunday scene

uh. i've been feeling a little insane about birdie lately. so have this scene from the ending of witch of the west.

Emilia sets a cup of tea down at Birdie’s elbow, next to the one that must have gone cold now, if Emilia is back already.

“You need to take a break.” Emilia’s gentle words are laced with worry; the faint bitter aroma of the tea suggests it’s laced with dreamroot. “You’ll only drain yourself at this point.”

Birdie’s vision swims with runes. “Maybe that’s what I want.”

“Birdie.”

She closes her eyes, flinching as the bloodstain on the kitchen floor crowds her mind’s eye instead. Fabin’s snarling words. His bloody hands.

“Birdie.”

Her breathing is too fast, hyperventilation crawling into her lungs. Runes are still swimming through her head, her overworked brain finally translating the passage she’s been staring at since Emilia brought the first cup of tea.

A sacrifice of the killer, to restore the life that was taken by the one that took it.

She opens her eyes and slams them shut again. Blood is dripping from her fingers, running in rivulets down her wrists. Her hands soaked in phantom gore. The moons have the sickest sense of humor.

“Fuck you,” she whispers through gritted teeth.

Emilia sets her hand on Birdie’s shoulder. “We’ll figure this out.”

Birdie slams the book shut and grabs the dreamroot-laced tea, throwing it back like shots with Jack. “I’ll take a break if it gets you off my ass,” she says, just to be biting, but it only comes out cracked and tired.

“You sound like Fabin,” Emilia says, sadly.

Birdie stumbles to her bed, collapses on the pillows. “Fuck him too.”

When she opens her eyes again, there is moonlight shading the floor silver-purple. Her body is weightless as she lifts to her feet and drifts forward to the window. She feels power shiver to life under her skin as the light washes over her.

The spellbook is open again, to the page with the answer. The secret to making the spell work.

“Fuck you,” Birdie growls again, teeth bared in a snarl. She picks up the book and hurls it as hard as she can through the window. Glass shatters, falling to the street below. Her soundproofing spell snaps with the breaking glass; Jack and Arthur will probably find the book in a minute.

She doesn’t care. She clutches her hair and pulls as hard as she can, screaming until some of the weight on her chest lifts. She whips around and flings a bolt of magic at her bed. The wood splinters and shatters, her shredded sheets fluttering to the floor. She can feel tears on her cheeks as her desk implodes, jagged pieces collapsing into a pile of books and spilled ink. Either Jack or Arthur is pounding on the door, the rhythm pounding in time with her heart as she crumples to the floor.

Moonlight is cool on her face. She can hear Arthur picking the locks. Silver light flickers off her skin, the magic still responding so easily to her call. As it always does, at is always has—except for him.

“Fuck!” she screams at the floor, her fingers clutched around her hair again. The boys are still at the door, Jack slamming his fist against it and shouting her name while Arthur struggles with her enchanted locks. It’s all a cruel fucking joke, the people she was meant find. All of it decided for her, prophesied when she was just a child with no real power despite all the magic in her blood. Her prophecy dragging her along, even now as she kicks and screams and wishes it was different.

She raises her eyes to the window. The dark sky beyond, the moons staring in at her.

“Please,” she whispers.

the raedoran cycle taglist (ask to be added <3): @k--havok @theharpywrites

#jack and arthur seeing birdie the big powerful witch: ah. scary. #jack and arthur realizing that she's actually an orphan with no home just like they were: oh. she's our daughter now. #writeblr #writeblr community #fantasy novel #original fiction #the raedoran cycle #the witch #birdie #jack #arthur #emilia #rb original #it's starting to flow again. perhaps soon i will even be able to like. actually work on thieves again.

[reneesbooks]

9 lines 9 people

Thanks for this old tag @duckingwriting! Have some Six of Crows fic.

Kaz took his time, shed his jacket, slowly loosened his tie. “The Spring Extravaganza. It’s a large party for empty-headed wealth to congregate under the moniker of welcoming in the new season. Really, it’s an excuse to parade themselves amongst society’s best. It’s a decadence, an absurdity.” “So, naturally, you’re going.” “We’re going,” Kaz corrected. “That is, if you’ll go.” Inej swung her legs back and forth. “That depends on the job, I suppose. Who will I be playing, Kaz?”

No pressure tags for @revenantlore @reneesbooks @sarandipitywrites @writeouswriter @cljordan-imperium and anyone else who'd like to share <3

#oh and she likes six of crows? ur honor cassie is a certified Perfect Mutual actually #reblogs #it’s my morbo 🥺🥰

[reneesbooks]

looking to hire a chivalrous young knight to assist with noble duties. responsibilities include loyalty till death and reaping what i have sowed. poor critical thinking essential.

#keelan #lacuna #reblogs

[reneesbooks]

snippet sunday

an actual snippet this time! tagging @oh-no-another-idea @avrablake and @akindofmagictoo to post something <3 we have a lacuna snippet as the keelan girlies are in my notes again <3

Keelan rests his hand on the knife in his belt, grinding his teeth. “Shall I kill him, my queen?”

The envoy’s eyes widen and he scowls. “You should keep your mad dog on a tighter leash, Your Majesty.”

“Perhaps you should keep your tongue on a tighter leash.” Maura’s voice betrays no hint of emotion. “Or my mad dog may find reason to tear it out.”

Keelan allows himself a tiny, vicious grin. The envoy smartly does not reply.

lacuna taglist: @serenanymph @lyssa-ink @oh-no-another-idea @lena-rambles @ashen-crest @tragicbackstoryenjoyer @serpentarii @allianaavelinjackson

#at some point i will catch up on tags but fyi my notifs are a mess from the aforementioned antisemitism so it's hard/tiring to dig them out #so for now i'm mostly just going to make my own posts sorry #anyway who wants to see keelan be a little bit fucked up and evil! i know maura does #writeblr #writeblr community #lacuna #original fiction #keelan #maura #tag game #rb original #maura: keelan there's this new song about you. #keelan: oh ok. are we ignoring it or leaning into it? #maura: they're calling you the mad dog of morbhard. #keelan: so leaning into it got it

[reneesbooks]

a little jarthur for sunday morning

*claws out of my own grave* the students haven't killed me yet. here's the first coherent thing i've written in literal weeks

A rap at Arthur’s window makes him look up from his notes. He see’s Jack’s beaming smile through the crack of the shutters and throws them open, leaning on his elbows on the sill. “You know you’re not supposed to be here.”

“That’s what makes it fun.” Jack’s smile grows impossibly brighter. “It’s the coronation today.”

“I know.”

“Everyone’s invited.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “Even street rats and orphans like us?”

“As long as you don’t announce yourself as such.” Jack offers him a hand. “Come with me?”

Arthur glances over his shoulder at his bedroom door. The nuns won’t expect him until dinner; he has plenty of time to get back before they’ll notice he’s gone. He turns back to Jack and takes his hand, smiling back at him. “You’re going to get me in so much trouble.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

They blend into the crowds streaming towards the castle gates and Arthur cranes his neck to see as much of the gardens as possible as they are herded down the main path by the royal guard. The great hall is even bigger than he’d imagined, the chandeliers sparkling with light that dances across the walls. He and Jack climb the stairs up to the balcony around the perimeter of the room and jostle their way to the front, leaning against the railing. From this point, they can see the nobility snacking on pastries and the priest pacing back and forth on the dais, ordering around altar girls and snapping at servants. Next to the ornately carved wooden throne stands a scowling soldier in a deep purple cloak, his piercing green eyes scanning the crowds continuously.

“That’s Keelan O’Leyne,” Jack whispers to him, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Have you heard the songs?”

Arthur shrugs. “The nuns have mentioned him once or twice. They don’t seem to be a fan.”

“They wouldn’t be.” Jack strings his fingers through his hair, his eyes taking on an admiring quality that makes Arthur’s chest ache. “He’s dangerous and violent.” He sighs a little dreamily. “He’d probably cut my tongue out within ten minutes of meeting me.”

“It’s weird that you sound like you want him to.”

“Can you blame me?” Jack gestures at him, Arthur rakes his gaze over the knight again, admitting to himself that he is quite handsome. He would be more so without the deep scowl on his face. “Anyway, he’s famous for how he escaped the massacre of his village by slaughtering the twelve thieves that burned it down. He’s been the princess’s sworn shield since. I heard a rumor that he threatened to cut out the tongue of anyone who used her name in his presence.”

Arthur shivers. “No wonder the nuns don’t like him.”

The crowd hushes and the priest begins to chant. The doors at the end of the great hall swing open and Arthur cranes his neck as the princess steps into the room, floating down the aisle in a gown of blue silk. There is a black mourning stripe down the back. Jack whistles loudly and Arthur sees Keelan O’Leyne’s head whip in their direction, green eyes narrow with cold, calculated anger. Arthur hopes he isn’t able to tell which of them whistled and elbows Jack in the side. “You’re going to get your wish about meeting Keelan O’Leyne if you keep that up. It’s inappropriate.”

“I don’t care about the princess’s beauty, though it is great,” Jack says, his eyes still locked on where she’s advancing slowly down the aisle while the priest chants. “O’Leyne can have her. I’m looking at those jewels on her head and around her pretty neck.”

Arthur looks again, focusing on the crown and necklaces that she’s wearing. The necklace is three strands of jewels twisted together—rubies, pearls, and sapphires shaped into perfect spheres resting on her collarbone. The golden crown has been worked into the shape of flowers, the metal nearly blending into the princess’s braided hair. As she reaches the dais and turns to face the crowd, he gets a better view of it. The jeweled flowers glint in the light, more rubies and sapphires and pearls than Arthur has ever seen in his life set into the intricately wrought metal. He remembers from his reading that the crown jewels were made by the first queen of Raedora and placed on her head by her magical students. There were old stories, buried in the backs of his books, that they once served as powerful magical conduits for the moons.

“Long live Queen Maura of Raedora, blessed by rivers and moons!”

The room erupts in cheers and Arthur gets caught up in it, the shouting crowd around him and the carefree grin on Jack’s face. He could stay in this moment forever, the two of them anonymous in the crowd, not a gutter rat and an orphan but just two kids attending the coronation like everyone else.

Jack turns to him with that wide grin and says over the cheers, “I’m going to steal the crown jewels.”

Arthur laughs, perfect and unburdened. “Sure you are, Jack.”

“Oh, I am.” His eyes are full of plans and mirth and more plans. “And you’re going to help me.”

thieves of morbhard taglist (ask to be added <3): @k–havok @theharpywrites @allianaavelinjackson @oh-no-another-idea

#throwing this out there and running away #i have not had time for tubml.hell bc these students be killin me :( #also the antisemitism keeps rearing its ugly head in my inbox and tbh i just don't have the energy for it rn #but!! have some gay idiot thieves in the meantime!! #write #writers on tumblr #writeblr community #original fiction #fantasy novel #thieves #the raedoran cycle #jack #arthur #keelan #maura #rb original #hhhhhhhh they're so stupid i love them so much #keelan and jack's relationship my beloved. they are obsessed with each other in very different ways. #jack is obsessed with keelan in a way that is very homoerotic. keelan is obsessed with jack in a way that is unfortunately very. not. #they do meet face to face a few times. there is usually attempted murder involved. #for jack that's very sexy. keelan just wants him to die already #also fun fact!! jack has many different skills (street rat survival technique) including playing a couple of instruments!! #guess his favorite song ;)

[reneesbooks]

i LOVE asshole characters who are protective and fiercely love and look after their people and almost always fail at conveying their affection but sometimes. SOMETIMES!! they succeed. and it’s the most important thing that has ever happened

#fabin #reblogs #the raedoran cycle

[reneesbooks]

make me write: the thieves of morbhard

from the raedoran cycle. y'all voted for the pining gay thieves lets do it.

taglist (ask to be added<3): @k–havok @theharpywrites @allianaavelinjackson @oh-no-another-idea

“I've got it,” Jack slurs, grabbing at his satchel. Arthur leans his head against the wall behind his bed and watches through half-lidded eyes as Jack produces a weathered scroll case. “Cost me a fuckin' forture, selfish cartograstographer.”

Arthur laughs, lazy and drunk and perfectly content.

Jack manages to open the case and dumps out the scroll inside. He tumbles out of his bed and kneels on the floor, weighting the corners of the map down with loose coins. Arthur slides to the floor with him, resting his cheek on Jack's shoulder. Jack's fingers brush his.

“Where do you want to go?” he murmurs. Arthur inhales a little shakily, trying to focus on the map and not the way Jack's hair tickles his nose.

“Hasal is too cold.” Jack hums with agreement. “Fierodia could be nice.”

Jack traces a finger over the spiky label for Horsa on the western coast. “They supersititious?”

Arthur frowns. “I don't know. Probably.” He peels his cheek off Jack's shoulder and leans over the map, squinting at the ink. “Titrodoreos?”

“Say that five times fast,” Jack laughs, hiccupping.

“Guildins don't have a problem with hollow children,” Arthur muses. “Could be something.”

“We'll get a desert villa on the Eastern Sea,” Jack declares, leaning over the map with a nub of charcoal from Arthur's bag. He makes a sloppy mark next to Titrodoreos. “Supposed to be the city of opportunity.”

“Maybe.” Arthur's vision swims a little. “Guildin laws are stricter than Raedoran ones. Could get our hands chops off.”

“Second choice?” Jack trails the charcoal down the map, slashing a line from the Eastern to the Southern Sea. “Are there really serpents down there?”

Arthur is getting too sleepy for this. “Probably not. Serpents aren't real.”

“That's what some people said about dragons,” Jack retorts, fumbling for the rum bottle. He pouts when he realizes it's empty and he tosses it aside with a sigh. Arthur tears his gaze away from his mouth. “I bet we'll see one on the way there.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Jack lays down on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Arthur lays down next to him, turning his head to watch Jack's throat work for a minute. “Do you really think we'll actually pull it off? Steal the crown jewels?”

Arthur lets his gaze wander up the ceiling as well, pretends he can see the night sky past it. Stars swim in his vision, and he makes a stupid wish on one of them. “Yeah, I think we will.”

#that's my boys! dumbasses the both of them!! #jack and arthur: yeah falling asleep cuddled up next to each other is totally normal and platonic there's no way he feels Like That about m #everyone around them: we give up #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writeblr community #original fiction #fantasy novel #make me write #thieves #the raedoran cycle #jack #arthur #ask me about the map and i'll post it ;) #rb original

[reneesbooks]

Make me write II: results

Big thank you to everyone who voted here! As promised, I opened up the Great Inventor doc and wrote a thousand words--here's a little for you 💛

“This is rather frustrating,” Fuchsia said moodily, eating her dinner on the evening of the last day before they were due back. “We know nothing more than we did going in.” “Some discoveries take decades to unravel,” Christopher said, goggles perched in his unruly hair. Fuchsia gave him a withering look. “You’re not even twenty-five yet, how can you claim to be any kind of intelligent? You know what? I bet you’re not even the Great Inventor. We haven’t found him, we’ve just found his stupid decoy, a kid with a head bigger than this mountain.” “Oh, definitely,” Christopher agreed, rolling his eyes. “In fact, I’m simply an automaton the Inventor created. You can open the panel in my chest and see the wires working.” “I’ll rip your shirt off and check,” Fuchsia threatened, gripping her spoon tightly. Captain sighed and put his bowl down. “Far be from it for me to get in the middle of this argument, but there will be no passionate ripping of clothes, do you understand?” Empathy ate more of her beef and potato stew. Christopher’s emotions dimmed slightly, and Fuchsia’s shoulders slumped. “Humanoid automatons,” Christopher said thoughtfully. “Now there’s an idea I haven’t explored enough.” “Can we talk about tomorrow?” Fuchsia asked. “As in, I finally get a shower, tomorrow, right?” Captain’s lips twitched. “You mean Christopher’s sponge baths aren’t scratching your itch?” Fuchsia glared. “I can barely remember a real shower,” Christopher said wistfully. “I bet it’s lovely.” “You’re making me feel sorry for you, and I don’t like it,” Fuchsia said, waving her hands in front of her face and squeezing her eyes shut. “Stop it, Christopher the Idiot.” “Why can’t you build yourself a real shower?” Empathy asked, scraping her bowl. “You have enough material.” “Water usage,” Christopher explained, shrugging. “It’s alright, really.” Fuchsia coughed loudly. “Tomorrow?” she said loudly. “Are we going to leave him here and go back, like you promised?”

@reneesbooks @aether-wasteland-s hope you don't mind me tagging you, but you mentioned you voted for some steampunk... 😎

#ok christopher is my boy now. nobody better look at him or i’ll blow myself up #reblogs #writeblr community #it’s my morbo 🥺🥰 #bookshelf

[reneesbooks]

make me write!!

tagged by the amazing beautiful showstopping @oh-no-another-idea <3

Rules: Make a 24hr poll listing the titles of every WIP you want to work on. (It’s fine if you only have one, still make a poll for the vote count). Whichever WIP title gets the most votes, write 1 sentence for every vote received. i am once again feeling hardcore (and have time off work) and will write 10 sentences for every vote :)

the raedoran cycle -- in case you want to know what the hell any of this is talking about :)

softly tagging anyone who wants to try, and also @k--havok @zmwrites @writinglyra @aalinaaaaaa @theharpywrites <3

#salt and brine is not on this list bc we are still letting her marinate in all her sins (edits) #writeblr #writeblr community #tag game #make me write #the raedoran cycle #emilia: fabin a sword given to u by the town drunk doesn't seem like the kind of thing that's going to make you feel better #fabin: tell that to my fuckin sword #birdie gathers all of them and is like ok ur gonna help me with this prophecy. this does not go at all the way she planned #jack only blows himself up like. twice. fabin only gets into three fights with unicorns in the woods. #arthur and emilia are actually competent and are helping birdie out but they're also inexorably tied to those Two Fucking Idiots

[reneesbooks]

Yes, your worldbuilding is thorough, your geography meticulous, your plotting elaborate, and your characterisation nuanced, but answer me this: is there a fucked up little guy?

#fabin #keelan #jack #reblogs #the raedoran cycle

[reneesbooks]

Just learned about garden path sentences.

They’re basically a literary prank– the sentence starts out in such a way that you think you know where it’s going, but the way it ends completely changes the meaning while still being a complete and logical sentence. Usually it deals with double meanings, or with words that can be multiple parts of speech, like nouns and verbs or nouns and adjectives.

So we get gems like

The old man the boat. (The old people are manning the boat)

The complex houses married and single soldiers and their families. (The apartment complex is home to both married and single soldiers, plus their families)

The prime number few. (People who are excellent are few in number.)

The cotton clothing is usually made of grows in Mississipi. (The cotton that clothing is made of)

The man who hunts ducks out on weekends. (As in he ducks out of his responsibilities)

We painted the wall with cracks. (The cracked wall is the one that was pained.)

#fun fact! i learned about these bc a professor in college begged me to stop puttin them in my essay bc it was getting too confusing #apparently my brain loves these!! and i use them all the time!! curse of an english major #reblogs

[reneesbooks]

Make me Write tag game II

I did this one not too long ago, but luckily, there's always different wips to work on! Thank you to the lovelies @dontjudgemeimawriter @charlesjosephwrites @eli-writes-sometimes and @duckingwriting!

Rules: Make a 24hr poll listing the titles of every WIP you want to work on. (It’s fine if you only have one, still make a poll for the vote count). Whichever WIP title gets the most votes, write 1 sentence for every vote received.

Hmm, firstly, a tag for everyone who hasn't done this one in a while or yet, and also maybe for @toribookworm22 @zmwrites @reneesbooks @sleepyowlwrites @talesofsorrowandofruin @nopoodles @avrablake and @aether-wasteland-s 💛

#inventor! #reblogs #writeblr community #it’s my morbo 🥺🥰 #tag game

[reneesbooks]

Heads up seven up

Thank you to the lovely @druidx for the tag :) I'm getting some writing done as we speak--tea and tumblr and my word document are lovely companions this evening. :)

Quin watched him out of the corner of his eye. “And what do we know about Thresh Nightblood?” Jax ticked the points off on his fingers. It wasn’t hard, since there were only two. “He grew up with Aaliyah on the Nightblood ship and they were friends. Since the combustion, all Aaliyah knows is that he survived.” “So, we know nothing.”             “Yup,” Jax agreed slowly.

I'll tag @k--havok @hippiewrites @sarandipitywrites @sleepyowlwrites @spuddlespud @junypr-camus @space-writes @blind-the-winds and anyone else who'd like to share <3

#*eyeball emoji* i would like to know more about thresh nightblood. #reblogs #it’s my morbo 🥺🥰 #writeblr community #bookshelf

[reneesbooks]

snippet saturday

still not a thing but this is my blog and i make the rules and i'm THINKING about birdie and fabin. i swear i'll get back to jack and arthur in a second just let me scream about birdie and fabin for a minute

Emilia tucks her wings against her back, settling in the grass next to Birdie. “When do you think we’ll have to return to Morbhard?”

Birdie stares out over the fields, her pulse quickening. Emilia senses that she’s asked a question that Birdie doesn’t want to answer. Birdie lets out a long breath. “I’m not sure.”

A lie, but Emilia doesn’t question it.

Birdie glances at the sky. “The sun will go down soon. I should make preparations. It’s the full silver moon tonight.”

Emilia shrinks into her human form and sets her hand on Birdie’s shoulder. “I can make the tea if you’d like.”

Birdie smiles. “Thank you. That would be nice.”

Emilia returns to the cottage and puts the kettle on the fire, digging her toe into the floor as she mixes the herbs. As much as she trusts them, as much as they’ve all grown closer over the weeks and months at the cottage, Birdie is still hiding things.

The kettle finally starts to whistle and Emilia pours a cup of tea. She heads back out to the garden. Birdie is standing next to Fabin, clearly just arrived from the forest, smiling up at him as he complains that the deer are getting better at hiding. Her laughter dies abruptly as the silver moon’s light hits her, her preparations forgotten in the grass a few steps away.

Fabin backs away as Birdie’s silver light explodes outward, a pulse of magic flattening the grass in a circle around her. Her tripled voice shrieks, her hair lifting off her shoulders. The entire whites of her eyes burn silver.

Blood starts to run from her nose. Fabin shrinks and tries to step closer, shouting her name. Emilia grabs a washcloth and grips it tightly behind her back, the fabric straining as she twists it nervously.

Birdie’s eyes begin to bleed as well, silver light pulsing from her. Fabin grits his teeth and takes three more shaking steps through the waves to reach Birdie. He grabs her shoulders and Emilia hears him shout her name.

Blood is streaming from her eyes and ears now, the third recitation barely begun. Fabin winces as silver magic lashes out at him, cuts opening on his cheeks. He keeps hold of Birdie, shaking her shoulders, trying to wake her up.

The silver light fades and Birdie’s eyes roll back. She collapses and Fabin catches her, lowering her slowly to the grass.

“Shit.” Jack and Arthur freeze in the doorway of the cottage. “Is she okay?”

“Does she fucking look okay?” Fabin growls, glaring at them. He snatches Birdie’s handkerchief from where she’d left it in the grass and starts to gently wipe the blood from her face. Emilia picks up the cup of tea again and moves cautiously. Birdie’s eyelids are fluttering, though she is limp in Fabin’s arms.

“The tea for her throat,” Emilia says quietly, when Fabin looks up at her with another growl. “I’ll look at those cuts.”

“I’m fine.” He holds the teacup to Birdie’s lips and Emilia flinches at the audibly painful gulps. “Birdie, can you hear me?”

Her silver eyes flick up to his face before fluttering closed again. She tucks her face into his chest.

Fabin leans down to murmur something to her that Emilia doesn’t hear. He presses his cheek to the side of Birdie’s head and Emilia stifles a gasp, averting her eyes.

Fabin stands with Birdie in his arms. “She needs to rest,” he says, not looking at any of them. He winces as he adjust his hold on her and Emilia wonders what other damage Birdie’s backlash did.

He says nothing else as he carries her into the house. Emilia bites her lip as Jack and Arthur turn to her with wide eyes. “I’ll make some more tea.”

#day after reblog #still thinking about Them!!

[reneesbooks]

wip intro/masterpost - the raedoran cycle

hi hello here it is. my baby.

genre: fantasy

pov: third person limited, with various narrators throughout

status: a series of 4 novels/stories, in various states of drafting

summary: in one night, Raedora is thrown into chaos. the royal librarian murders the queen and her youngest daughter with magic and flees, leaving behind the king and the crown princess to pick up the pieces. the princess spirals slowly into madness as her sworn shield tries to save her, terrified of her dead sister's prophecy.

two thieves in the capital set their sights on the crown jewels after attending the queen's coronation. but when one gets a little too reckless and catches the attention of the Mad Dog of Morbhard, their plans quickly go off the rails.

when their parents are killed in the Dragon Purges, two shapeshifters must hide amongst their killers to survive. one, a talented healer, tries to build a life that will be safe for them, but her little brother has his sights set on avenging their parents by murdering the queen that ordered their deaths.

a young witch is raised alone by her father, always in hiding, with strange dreams and visions of the future. when he dies of an illness even her magic can't heal, she must strike out on her own, searching for answers to the prophecy that has followed her for her whole life.

tag: the raedoran cycle

so originally this was one novel following multiple characters, but thanks to a minor plot bunny that greatly spiraled out of control (lacuna) it has become something much more. many of the four novels' events occur simultaneously, with their stories overlapping and intertwining as the character's lives do the same.

the knight of lacuna lake

Keelan: baby boy war criminal. he narrates the story as he tries to save Maura from herself.

Maura: the golden queen of Raedora. she lost half her family in 1 night and handed it incredibly well all things considered (no she didn't)

status: first draft finished(!!), shelved while it marinates and i work on the rest of the cycle. likely going to come back and edit it at some point but for now it is what it is

tag: lacuna

the thieves of morbhard

Arthur: master lockpick and ball of anxiety. he narrates his attempts to get Jack to notice him while also trying to steal the crown jewels.

Jack: cursed damned street rat. born on the night of the triple new moon and condemned to a life on the streets, he's got his sights set on stealing enough to get both him and Arthur out of Morbhard for good.

status: just barely starting to draft. fully outlined.

tag: thieves

the dragons of kiltide

Emilia: the only voice of reason around here. a talented healer fighting to protect her baby brother from both the persecution they face in their homeland and the Purges that killed their parents.

Fabin: teenage ball of rage. his parents died in front of him when he was 13 and he has been supremely chill about it since then and doesn't everybody sleep with their sword under their bed?

status: outlining with the occasional scene.

tag: dragons

the witch of the west

Birdie: a talented witch born under and blessed by the full silver moon. raised by her father in the woods after fleeing the witch trials, she is determined to understand and fulfill her prophecy. her strange dreams of dragons, thieves, and knights lead her to a search for the people who she believes will help her in her journey.

status: it's complicated. this where all the original material lives for the most part so it's outlined(sort of??) and i've been writing scenes for it but idk what the actual timeline of events is and i've changed a LOT since i started. so it's a frankendraft mess. we'll get there eventually.

tag: the witch

and that's it! that's my baby! i think about Them a lot these days.

taglist: ask to be added <3 @k--havok @theharpywrites

links:

lacuna wip intro/masterpost

salt and brine (in the same world but not necessarily relevant)

i will add more as things get posted but for now you can find everything for each story/character through the linked tags up above. i am always available to scream about my children :)

#here it is!! new pinned post!! #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writeblr community #original fiction #wip introduction #wip intro #fantasy novel #dark fantasy #fantasy wip #ok time for the end credits scene aka my rambling tags #no birdie doesn't know she's the princess. yes that's an important plot point for a lot of reasons #jack and arthur did NOT sign up for this magical destiny they just heard about a witch on the side of the road and wanted to check it out #emilia and fabin are persecuted in Fierodia bc their ability to shift into a human form is incredibly rare and highly sought after #mostly by the dragon government who uses dragons like them as diplomats and spies but heavily controls them #and their parents who wanted none of that said fuck this and moved to raedora. where it would be safer :) #i call jack arthur emilia fabin and birdie the prophecy crew and i would die for them. they would not let me #well fabin might actually #fabin #emilia #birdie #jack #arthur #keelan #maura #the raedoran cycle #rb original #<- btw that's just my tag for original posts. rb as in reneesbooks not rb as in reblog.