These are my works so farr... they are listed based on the main project they belong to, though at the moment all of them are short stories
But who knows, maybe someday a bigger work will appear
The Game of Eleven - #tgoe
The Game of Eleven is about a magical game in Amsterdam. There are eleven players, who each try to win the game in order to get their heart's wish fulfilled.
Status: rewrite #5 (or 6)
A Broken Bubble
Eva and Adam attend a community party, where Eva finds out what Adam has been hiding from her.
Elite
Rich kids in the 1920's in Chicago are messing around with magic and there might be more consequences than they think
Status: rewrite #1
Gambling
A magical gambling den in Paris set in 19th century? (still figuring that out). Led by a woman
Status: first draft
The Secret of the Gallery
Elodie sneaks into the famed gallery of the emperor. It has been a project for months, where a group of people with magical abilities has been working on. She tries to find a way to get an advantage out of it, something she can use in her business.
Academia
Status: collecting idea
A Galaxy Full of Magic - coming
There is an eclipse and Adaline is invited to watch it with one of the magical societies.
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I already sent out my main WIP at the moment for submission November 2023. Then, at this time, I was waiting for some responses.
No one really replied, which was heartbreaking. But then I decided that I would publish it myself but it also didn't feel ready for that yet. So instead, I am now rewriting it again. Working through another version and making changes and improvements. And then, after this round, I might send it out again or I will publish/post it myself somewhere
Once again, you can be an English major. a seasoned journalist. an established author. a famed literary critic...and you will still scratch your head over the junk that makes it big. Public opinion has no worth. Just write what you want.
"But I don't want to share something that isn't perfect" why not? everyone else does.
like there are some days where all the words click into place and the sentences flow like silk and then there are other days where your plot is undergoing radioactive decay and you're about to punch through your laptop screen in frustration
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Mainly original work, whether it's a wip you're wanting to publish or just for fun. Fanfiction is cool too, but doesn't peak my interest at much (idk man, i've tried. trust me)
Silly shit posts about oc's
If any of those are you please interact with this post! also reblog it so I can stalk more lovely writers!
I can only offer you my love and affection, but I hope that is enough.
List of 120 unique fantasy jobs to give to your fantasy characters. Writers save this!
1. Spellscribe: Weaves magic into ink, creating enchanted scrolls and spellbooks.
2. Dreamweaver: Shapes dreams, ensuring a peaceful slumber for all.
3. Star Cartographer: Maps constellations and celestial paths.
4. Potion Alchemist: Brews elixirs, love potions, and invisibility brews.
5. Whispering Wind Courier: Carries messages on ethereal zephyrs.
6. Crystal Harmonist: Plays melodies on gemstone xylophones.
7. Arcane Librarian: Guards forbidden tomes and ancient grimoires.
8. Stormcaller: Commands lightning and tempests.
9. Shadow Weaver: Manipulates shadows for stealth or illusion.
10. Fey Ambassador: Bridges the gap between humans and fae.
11. Time Tinkerer: Repairs temporal rifts and broken clocks.
12. Soul Gardener: Tends to souls in the afterlife.
13. Dragon Whisperer: Communicates with fire-breathing beasts.
14. Labyrinth Architect: Designs mazes with shifting walls.
15. Aetheronaut: Pilots airships through the skies.
16. Cauldron Chef: Cooks magical stews and enchanted pastries.
17. Goblin Negotiator: Haggles with mischievous goblins over stolen treasures.
18. Wisp Shepherd: Herds glowing wisps across moonlit meadows.
19. Constellation Painter: Dips brushes in stardust to create cosmic art.
20. Swordsmith of Destiny: Forges blades with prophetic properties.
21. Oracle of Riddles: Answers questions through cryptic puzzles.
22. Moss Whisperer: Encourages moss-covered stones to share their secrets.
23. Harvest Moon Dancer: Leads celestial dances during lunar eclipses.
24. Chimera Veterinarian: Cares for mythical hybrid creatures.
25. Lore Bard: Sings epic sagas of forgotten heroes.
26. Stardust Prospector: Mines cosmic minerals from fallen meteors.
27. Mistwalker: Guides lost souls through foggy moors.
28. Enchanted Cobbler: Crafts shoes that grant extraordinary abilities.
29. Celestial Clockmaker: Constructs timepieces powered by starlight.
30. Gargoyle Sculptor: Carves stone guardians with hidden sentience.
31. Wandmaker: Whittles wands from ancient tree branches.
32. Mermaid Translator: Deciphers underwater songs and sea whispers.
33. Nightshade Apothecary: Harvests moonflowers and midnight herbs.
34. Serpent Charmer: Mesmerizes serpents with haunting melodies.
35. Skyship Navigator: Charts courses through floating islands.
36. Frostfire Sculptor: Shapes ice and flame into ephemeral statues.
37. Cursed Cursebreaker: Lifts hexes and breaks enchantments.
38. Goblin Archaeologist: Digs up lost goblin civilizations.
39. Sylph Perfumer: Captures the essence of zephyrs in fragrances.
40. Mystic Cartographer: Maps hidden ley lines and magical nexuses.
41. Moonstone Miner: Extracts shards of moonlight from caverns.
42. Gryphon Trainer: Raises and trains majestic gryphons.
43. Candlemaker of Lost Hopes: Creates candles that reveal forgotten memories.
44. Starwhisper Cartographer: Maps cosmic phenomenaâcomets' paths, shooting star trails, and celestial alignments.
45. Gloomsmith: Crafts melancholic artifactsâmusic boxes that play haunting melodies, mirrors that reflect lost loves, and inkwells that pen tear-stained poetry.
46. Siren Songstress: Sings enchanting melodies by moonlit shores, luring sailors toward rocky fates or guiding them safely through treacherous waters.
47. Astral Weaver: Spins threads from stardust, creating cloaks that grant glimpses of alternate realities or tapestries that depict forgotten legends.
48. Cryptobotanist: Studies otherworldly floraâglow-in-the-dark mushrooms, singing vines, and moonblossoms that bloom only during eclipses.
49. Soothsayer: Reads the future in tea leaves, cloud formations, or the patterns of fireflies. Their predictions shape destinies.
50. Stormglass Sculptor: Carves intricate sculptures from stormglassâfrozen lightning, raindrop chandeliers, and thunderstorm dioramas.
51. Wispkeeper: Tends to wispsâtiny, glowing spirits that flit through forests. They bottle wisp-light for healing potions.
52. Eidolon Portraitist: Paints portraits of ghosts, capturing their essence before they fade into oblivion.
53. Moss Oracle: Listens to moss-covered stones, deciphering their murmurs to reveal lost histories.
54. Labyrinth Minstrel: Wanders through shifting mazes, singing songs that guide lost travelers to safety.
55. Frostbite Healer: Extracts shards of moonlight from caverns.
56. Gryphon Trainer: Raises and trains majestic gryphons.
57. Candlemaker of Lost Hopes: Creates candles that reveal forgotten memories.
58. Starwhisper Cartographer: Maps cosmic phenomenaâcometsâ paths, shooting star trails, and celestial alignments. Their charts guide explorers to hidden constellations.
59. Gloomsmith: Crafts melancholic artifactsâmusic boxes that play haunting melodies, mirrors that reflect lost loves, and inkwells that pen tear-stained poetry.
60. Siren Songstress: Sings enchanting melodies by moonlit shores, luring sailors toward rocky fates or guiding them safely through treacherous waters.
61. Astral Weaver: Spins threads from stardust, creating cloaks that grant glimpses of alternate realities or tapestries that depict forgotten legends.
62. Cryptobotanist: Studies otherworldly floraâglow-in-the-dark mushrooms, singing vines, and moonblossoms that bloom only during eclipses.
63. Soothsayer: Reads the future in tea leaves, cloud formations, or the patterns of fireflies. Their predictions shape destinies.
64. Stormglass Sculptor: Carves intricate sculptures from stormglassâfrozen lightning, raindrop chandeliers, and thunderstorm dioramas.
65. Wispkeeper: Tends to wispsâtiny, glowing spirits that flit through forests. They bottle wisp-light for healing potions.
66. Eidolon Portraitist: Paints portraits of ghosts, capturing their essence before they fade into oblivion.
67. Moss Oracle: Listens to moss-covered stones, deciphering their murmurs to reveal lost histories.
68. Labyrinth Minstrel: Wanders through shifting mazes, singing songs that guide lost travelers to safety.
69. Frostbite Healer: Treats frostbitten extremities with salves made from frost spritesâ tears.
70. Chalice Enchanter: Carves runes into crystal goblets, infusing each sip with memories or emotions.
71. Goblin Archaeologist: Digs up lost goblin civilizations, unearthing rusty gadgets and cryptic hieroglyphs.
72. Sylph Perfumer: Captures the essence of zephyrs in fragrancesâdawn mist, thunderstorm ozone, and moonrise musk.
73. Mystic Cartographer: Maps hidden ley lines and magical nexuses. Their charts reveal portals and ley-gates.
74. Moonstone Miner: Extracts shards of moonlight from caverns, which can be used for enchantments or as lantern fuel.
75. Gryphon Trainer: Raises and trains majestic gryphons for aerial patrols or epic quests.
76. Candlemaker of Whispers: Crafts candles that flicker with spectral flames, allowing communication with the departed.
77. Stardust Prospector: Mines cosmic minerals from fallen meteorsâstar iron, comet opals, and nebula gems.
78. Golem Animator: Breathes life into clay and stone constructs, imbuing them with purpose.
79. Wraith Whisperer: Communicates with restless spirits, negotiating unfinished business.
80. Celestial Navigator: Guides ships by star charts, steering vessels through astral currents.
81. Chaos Theorist: Predicts chaotic events using butterfly-wing equations, preventing or exploiting chaos.
82. Fairy Ring Dancer: Enters mystical circles to converse with fairies, striking bargains or seeking wisdom.
83. Banshee Lullaby Singer: Soothes grieving souls with haunting songs, easing their passage to the beyond.
84. Goblin Diplomat: Negotiates peace treaties between realms, balancing goblin mischief and human interests.
85. Veilwalker: Steps between dimensions using shimmering veils, exploring parallel worlds.
86. Moonshard Weaver: Threads moonstone shards into cloaks that grant moonwalking abilities.
87. Gryphon Whisperer: Communicates with gryphons through empathic bonds.
88. Cursed Curator: Collects cursed artifacts, safeguarding them in hidden vaults.
89. Sphinx Riddler: Poses enigmas to travelers seeking wisdom, granting answers in exchange for riddles.
90. Bard of Echoes: Sings songs that echo through time, preserving forgotten tales.
91. Goblin Inventor: Constructs whimsical gadgetsâumbrellas that predict rain, shoes that dance, and hats that translate squirrel chatter.
92. Serpent Astronomer: Studies cosmic serpentsâconstellations that writhe across the sky.
120. Starforged Smith: Hammers star fragments into celestial armor and swords.
đ WOOHOO, YOU MADE IT TO THE END! đ
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The Core connects all Temporal Gateways in the starlight path, serving as a central hub and linking the nine worlds of Myriad. Due to its placement in the eye-shaped configuration of the nine worlds, The Core is sometimes referred to as âThe Pupilâ by astronomers.
For thousands of years, The Core floated alone through the cosmos, witnessing the birth and demise of countless worlds and stars, until it stumbled upon a barren planet in its path and brought it into orbit. Recognizing the potential of this ruined land, The Core gifted its own power to grant it a fresh opportunity, and Prosperia was born. Under the lonely planet's protection, a vibrant realm of immortal personifications flourished.
In the centuries that followed, The Core came to the rescue of seven more worlds, granting them portions of its power to facilitate their growth. As civilizations thrived and advanced, interest grew, and a young immortal from Prosperia named Bartholomew Amias Spark became especially interested in studying the central world. However, without a means of reaching it, his research soon came to a halt. Desperate to see The Core for himself, he created a rudimentary travel system and reached their rescuer.
Bartholomew dedicated years to his studies, meticulously tracing each detail and conducting countless experiments. His efforts were rewarded when he made a groundbreaking discovery: The Core is a sentient being. Fuelled by his breakthrough, Bartholomew was determined to communicate and succeeded by permitting the world access to his mind.
The professor listened intently to The Core, nurturing it and absorbing stories of adventure and exploration, pushing further into the bounds of knowledge. Over time, he made the world his home and established a personal lab to direct further experiments and foster progress across the nine worlds. However, his growing curiosity tempted him towards more ambitious endeavors, and he daydreamed about visiting other planets. With the same basic system he had used to reach the central world, and with The Core's guidance, he created the first Temporal Gateway and set about installing them across Myriad.
As rumors of the enigmatic professor spread, The Core earned its reputation as the residence of Professor Bartholomew Amias Spark, The Navigator of the Starlight Path and the protector of all worlds. Luceras, the lord of creativity and Bartholomew's brother, later constructed a vast library on the largest moon, containing the history and education of every world in Myriad to connect the worlds through knowledge.
Oh, that wonderful feeling when youâre plotting and brainstorming and the dots just start CONNECTING all over the place and then it just spirals into this oh⌠oh???? Oh!!!! OH??!?!?? moment which is an unmatched high as a writer
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@i-can-even-burn-salad tagged me for this one - thank you! go read some excellent magical technobabble here
here's the latest from the Cyberwitch WIP:
Faster than they thought the police system could work, Vy finds themself relieved of their cuff, repossessed of their gear, and standing on the front porch of the precinct. The doors slam shut behind them; the gust of air ruffles their coat. ââŚWell, fuck you, too.â
tagging @sarahlizziewrites, @daisygrayce, @thepeculiarbird, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, and @cowboybrunch, plus an open tag
Cyberwitch taglist (ask to be added or removed): @leah-yasmin-writes, @unrepentantcheeseaddict, @ceph-the-ghost-writer
IDK who needs to hear this but (I certainly did) : A chapter is not required to be 2000-4000 words in length (or whatever 'reasonable' amount it is in your head.) A chapter ends where you feel comfortable ending it. You make your own rules!
Elodie sneaks into the famed gallery of the emperor. It has been a project for months, where a group of people with magical abilities has been working on. She tries to find a way to get an advantage out of it, something she can use in her business.
Word count: 1755
TW: none, I think. Let me know if I am wrong
-------------------------------------------------
It was the gallery of the empress. Elodie had heard the stories, the rumours through out the city. How she had teams working on this feat. The living paintings, coming only alive at night. It was claimed that that was because of the decadence, the construction of the spell. Elodie wondered if it was not also a matter of skill, that the spells had to be structured that way to work rather than a choice they made. Still, Elodie was curious for the paintings. There were some things, uses really, coming to mind, depending on what the spells were actually capable of.
Celine, the empress lady-in-waiting, had been eager to help her out. A nice benefit from dating her. She was easily impressed by the risks that Elodie took. The danger, as Celine perceived it. She liked flirting with it and that worked in Elodieâs favour. Still she had to mindful not to push it to far or cracks in Celineâs loyalty would no doubt appear. And it wasnât clear yet where the tear in the loyalty would appear. To her or the empress.
Given the fact that she had crossed most of the palace and no guards had been looking for her, told Elodie that for now she was still in the clear. Then again, the secret passages that she used to visit Celine helped her out now as well. The last part however, to the gallery, she would have to walk through the halls. She wouldnât use magic to hide herself or deflect the attention. The emperor had enforced most of the known prevention methods and probably also some that Elodie didnât know of. It felt better to take the risk of being seen.
Elodie slipped through the door, small streak of light pouring through the doors, slimming as she closed the doors to the gallery behind her. The night outside was brighter than the dark room. Still, there wasnât enough light to illuminate the gallery. The room was too dark to see. Elodie used a simple spell to light one of the candles in the room, taking it off the chandelier. It wouldâve been easy enough to light all of them, but the light would no doubt be visible to the guards outside. It would be like a beacon, telling everyone where she was.
Her heels were tapping on the marble floor, a soft echo in the big hollow chamber. Elodie slowly turned into a circle. There were paintings lining all the walls. Different sizes, most of them portraits, but a few landscapes as well. State portraits and women with their dogs. Surely not all of them could be spelled.
âAre you looking for someone in particular?â
Elodieâs muscles stiffened for a second, then she slowly turned. In her head she was running several escape plans and excuses, as well as wondering how she hadnât heard anyone else come in. When she turned, she saw that the reason she hadnât anyone come in, was because there wasnât anyone there. It had been a painting. A man was pushing himself out of the frame. Man was a generous description. It was a painted man. As he moved of the canvas, the paint was glistening. It appeared wet. His hands prints left paint stains.
âYou are not what I expected.â Elodie murmured, studying the painting standing before her. The rest of the paint on the canvas was dry, only the painted man was wet. Elodie was curious if it would feel like paint as well. Knowing that a lot of spells could have loopholes, she decided against it.
The painted man stood up straighter, placing his hands on his waist. The paint was blending together, creating a weird stain where they connected. âWhat was it that you expected?â
âFor you took look less painted. Or to step out of the frame.â Elodie was barely focused on the conversation. She was studying the man. There wasnât enough light to be sure what she was looking at. If it was an illusion or if they actually managed to make it possible for them to get out of the frame. She had thought that they would be able to move in their frames, talk to them. This was more than she had thought was possible.
âIs there something amiss?â The painting asked, as he was trying to look at himself. Bending, turning and twisting. The paint layers smudging.
âYou donât seem solid.â Elodie remarked.
The painting held up his arms. âYou canât see through me.â He said, sounding surprised.
âI mean, that you can stand here, but the paint seems to be wet.â
âOf course.â He exclaimed, as if it was the most normal thing. âThey tried to keep us the way we are in the paintings, but it didnât work.â He explained. âWe were not flexible enough, several paintings were ruined in the process. Portraits crumbling when they tried to speak, the paint not allowing for their faces to move.â
Elodie hadnât even considered that yet. It also raised another question. âHow do they get out of the frames? The portraits.â
âThey canât, theyâre stuck inside.â
âThey canât get out at all?â Elodie asked, her eyes wandering along the walls again. The majority of the paintings did not depict the full body, mostly upper body. In a lucky case the upper legs.
âA part of them can, the part thatâs painted.â
Elodie started to walk along the walls of the room. âDo you do it often, getting out of the painting?â She was getting several stares from the paintings as she walked past them. Still most of them stayed put, some just speaking to each other. âIt doesnât look like on of you fellow paintings is eager to step out.â
The painting caught up to her, staying a few steps behind her. âThat is because the hassle of fixing the paint is hardly ever worth it.â
She saw what he meant with the paint. There was a clear trail of where the painting had been. From his footprints to the little drips of paint that fell off of him whenever he moved, pushing the wet paint out of one of the creases.
âIt is not included in the spell that makes you⌠live?â
The painted man shook his head. âNo, someone comes in and fixes it the next day.â
âAlways in the morning?â Elodie asked.
âYes, we only come to live at night.â He said it so casually, like this information Elodie would know. Everything he said, it had been so careless, almost child like. Yet the painted man was older than that, he looked older than she was.
But then, who said that they paintings were the age as which they were painted. Energy, the power for magic, it had to come from somewhere. There was a thought itching at the back of her mind, that she couldnât quite reach.
The painting was still rambling on and she only caught the end of the sentence, âbecause that is when they sleep.â
âThat is when who sleeps?â
âThe children.â The painting said it in a way that it was supposed to be obvious, he most likely said it not a moment ago.
âThe children.â Elodie murmured. There was something with children, someone mentioned it the other day when they came to her. The madness. That was it, the thought hat was in her head. In the poorer areas Paris, there were children going mad. Or they appeared to be mad. They all had a magic ability and all of them were losing it. It seemed that Elodie had just found the reason why.
âWho are you then?â Elodie asked the painting, wondering if she would know the child.
The painted man stopped, straightened his spine as he placed his hand right under his throat. âI am âShepherd on mountainâ.â
It was the name of the painting. He was the painting. But still. It was a weird combination of who the painting was supposed to be and who the child he was tied to really was. The painted man seemed to be his own person well enough, but he felt flat as a person. He wasnât a fully a person, but he felt one-dimensional. Elodie wasnât sure if that was due to the ties to the child or because of the spell.
It was starting to feel like an inquisition, but Elodie wanted to know more. âDo you remember any of this, when you go back into the frame.â
He frowned at her question. Or that is what Elodie made of it with the moving paint.
âI do. I might know some parts of the day even, though i am never sure if that is actually the day or a dream I have.If I can dream. The scientists were not clear about it. They seemed to be unsure of lot themselves.â
âBut tomorrow night you would know that I was here the night before.â
âI might not be sure about the date. We donât always come alive. It depends on the childâs sleep if there is room for us to share itâs conscious.â
Elodie was still watching him.
âThey were talking a lot when they were trying to create us.â The painting explained. He turned, walking back to his frame.
âWhere are you going?â Elodie asked.
He pointed behind him. âBack inside.â
That much was clear, but what wasnât was the sudden need he had. âWhy now?â
âBecause the longer we stay out, the more chance there is something goes wrong.â He was already holding on to the frame and pulling himself back inside, leaving Elodie on her own in the gallery, surrounded by wet paint.
The gallery was a frivolity. An expense frivolity, that played with peopleâs lives. Elodie had hoped to find another way to spy inside the palace, but she got something much more valuable. She had the information she needed to either blackmail the emperor or start a riot in the city. Regardless, it was useful knowledge to have. Now it was the matter making sure that no one else found out. Given the fact that the paintings were operating on childrenâs brains, she could not trust them. Perhaps if she mentioned something to Celine, she could talk to the empress. Some excuse about the paintings embarrassing the empress, or the risk that they would repeat secrets. For this was a secret, a piece of information, that Elodie intended to use when the right time was there.Â
Donât only write when youâre motivated. Youâll never get anything done that way.
Itâs important to make writing a part of your life, so even if youâre not in the mood, youâll still make progress. Itâs a skill that takes practice, and practice isn't always fun.
While there's nothing wrong with enjoying the act of writing, if you're serious about improving and finishing your projects, then you need to write even if you're not feeling it that day.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
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