ℒℴ𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 ℱ𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓎

I was tagged by @autumnfangirler for a game of Heads Up 7 Up… sharing seven (or so) lines from a WIP! Hmm, there are a bunch for me to choose from, but I think I’ll go with this one!

This is from a YA Fantasy story about a Tengu (raven-folk) named Korakk, who can only communicate through mimicry, traveling through lands far from home and the encounters he has along the way… sadly this one is one of the bad ones.

“Tell us, dear Korkack, from whence have you come?” An elegant gentleman seated directly across from this mysterious guest placed his elbows on the table, fingers laced together, and rested his chin on the backs of his hands, staring intently at Korakk. Dorius Trenard, the master of the house and Baron of the Western Dells, had caught sight of the Tengu as he had been summarily turned away from the town library. Fascinated by such a rare sight as a Tengu in this dreadfully boring city, Trenard had invited Korakk to supper, along with a handful of his closest friends to share in the entertainment.

“My name is Korakk,” the Tengu corrected gently, and at the sound of the young elven girl’s voice that flowed from his beak, the nobles tittered amongst themselves.

“Fascinating,” another of the gentlemen remarked, smiling broadly. “How many voices does it have?”

“All but its own, my dear chap,” Trenard replied with a chuckle. “But don’t be rude, Lord Burrber, Kordack here was just about to tell us where he’s from.”

This is from my current massive WIP, the Dagger’s Promise which is an NA fantasy which follows a group of young adults forced to be wards to a religiously and politically oppressive monarchy. This is an introduction to one of my favorite characters in the whole series:

“Where is she?” His deep voice boomed over all the noise in the common room, his smile growing even wider once he spotted Fithraen. “Fith! My sweet girl!”

“Grìmm… fuck!” Fithraen squealed when Þùrgrìmm immediately swept her off her feet in a bone breaking embrace, laughing when he kissed the top of her head and swung her around like she weighed nothing. “How many fawning girls did you have to fuck to make such good time through the strait?”

“Please, I was able to appease the sea gods with a few drops of my giant’s blood.” Þùrgrìmm kissed her again before setting her down on her feet as he ran his fingers through her hair and kept smiling at her. “And just to be safe I fucked Brandr.”

Three fun facts about me:

I worked in veterinary medicine for five years.

I love cooking and baking medieval recipes

Character Intro - Valda

Age // 18 Traits // stubborn, persistent, socially awkward Affinity // shape shifting Occupation // runaway

Valda was raised in a cult that believes magic users should let their magic take over and let go of their humanity. As a result, she's terrifyingly powerful but lacks the skills to deal with other people in non-violent ways. After the ways of the cult led to her friend's death, Valda decided to not only leave but to take down the cult and it's abusive leaders. Unfortunately for her, this doesn't go to plan as she gets caught up in another dangerous situation.

Likes // painting, butterflies, Lux's cooking, being free to make her own choices, using magic, being in nature

No rush though, love your page 💞

Different Ways to Describe Hazel Eyes

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

His eyes made them think of the woods behind his old house: not just the green of the leaves but the rough brown bark that used to scrape his hands as he climbed the trees as well.

Their eyes were the color of spring and the memory of autumn.

She had the most interesting eyes he had ever seen. They held the sweetness of honey and the softness of pastures after a heavy rainfall.

The brown elements in their hazel eyes were more dominant, complimenting the freckles that dotted their nose.

His hazel eyes had never held such hatred until now.

She had soft, hazel eyes. A warm brown with an inner radiating golden sun.

Their hazel eyes were both the sunlit branches and the moss that clothed the old oak tree.

Her eyes reminded them of spring. Irises like the forest floor that stretched over the roots of trees and the plants and flowers that sprouted from between the cracks.

He had eyes like the sea and the wet, sharp rocks that lined the edge of the cliff. The center was all rock, a harsh brown that spread out to waves of greens and blues under an angry sky.

Their green eyes were flaked with gold.

She hated to admit that he had beautiful eyes. They were a soft hazel, with waves of browns and greens and golds that mesmerized her. The warmth of his eyes however, did nothing to change the impression she had of him.

Behind their hazel eyes, he could tell they were hiding something. It reflected in the greens and golds of their irises.

Her eyes were the same colors as the bracelets on her wrists. He watched the golden metal with the blue and green gems clang against one another as she talked with her hands.

They had never imagined that hazel eyes so beautiful could look so sad.

His eyes mirrored the ground of the cemetery and the blue sky that looked down on them.

She had eyes like watercolors, blues and greens and browns swirling together to paint an incredible scene.

They had eyes that painters could only ever dream of capturing in their art.

Telling: Sarah was very angry.

Showing: Sarah's face turned red, her fists clenched, and she slammed the door shut.

//////

Telling: The room was messy.

Showing: Clothes were strewn across the floor, books were piled haphazardly on the desk, and dirty dishes filled the sink.

//////

Telling: John was scared of heights.

Showing: John's palms grew sweaty, his heart raced, and he clung tightly to the railing as he looked down from the rooftop.

//////

Telling: The food tasted delicious.

Showing: The flavors exploded on her tongue, a medley of sweet, tangy, and savory notes danced in her mouth, leaving her craving more.

//////

Telling: Emma was sad about the breakup.

Showing: Emma's eyes welled up with tears, her shoulders slumped, and she spent hours curled up in bed, replaying their last conversation in her mind.

//////

Telling: It was a beautiful sunset.

Showing: The sky transformed into a canvas of vibrant hues—pinks, oranges, and purples blending together in a breathtaking display, casting a warm glow across the horizon.

//////

Telling: The car was old and unreliable.

Showing: The engine coughed and sputtered, emitting puffs of smoke. Rust covered the body, and the faded paint revealed years of wear and tear.

//////

Telling: The meeting was tense.

Showing: The participants leaned forward in their seats, their brows furrowed, and their voices became sharp and clipped as they argued back and forth.

//////

Telling: He was a kind person.

Showing: He often went out of his way to help others, offering a comforting smile and lending a listening ear whenever someone needed support.

//////

Telling: The forest was eerie at night.

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

He had eyes like the fields after a sweet summer rain.

Their eyes reminded her of the forests at night.

Her green eyes were like leaves with golden sunlight shining filtering through them.

Green eyes— usually a symbol of grace— had never held such a look of hatred.

She had eyes the same color as the bottle of poison tucked away safely in the inside pocket of her jacket.

He stared deep into her green eyes and saw forever reflected in them.

Their eyes were the same color as the moldy piece of bread he found under the couch a couple days ago.

She bit into the apple— the same color as her sour green eyes— and flashed him a wicked grin.

He stared at the green walls of his childhood bedroom, but it only made him think of [Name’s] eyes that always teased him.

Their eyes reeked of danger, the color of acid and a threat.

Her eyes were the color of the woods at twilight.

His green eyes kept a lifetime of secrets locked away behind them.

Their eyes reminded him of a cat’s: mischievous and quick to chase.

She had eyes like spring and the memory of a childhood summer.

His eyes matched the emerald ring he wore on his finger.

They had heard the saying “the grass is greener on the other side” their entire life, but after seeing her eyes? They finally thought it might have some truth to it.

Her eyes made him think of germs. It wasn’t the most colorful of metaphors, but he thought it went well with the way it made him feel. Sick.