#wipnook

When Lizzy felt the ground beneath her feet slow to a stop, it took a moment for the world to come back into focus and she stumbled. It was only Connor's grip still firm on her arm that kept her from falling over entirely and she had to bend double and gasp for breath to keep her lunch. "Breathe deeply, Lizzy. I'm sorry," Connor said softly. "It's always jarring for fey to blur, but I needed to accommodate your companions' demand." The reminder that she'd been forcefully removed from the hall, when [Redacted] had the answers she'd been seeking for months, had her struggling, wrenching her arm away from Moore's grasp with a snarl of her own. "She's my mum! I have a right to know what's—" "And if she has been tortured? Brutalised? If she was alive, but is now dead? Do you wish to hear these things directly? Or do you wish me to find the information and relay it to you after I am certain there is nothing further being concealed from you?"

(Promptlist for the rest of April can be found at the bottom of this post)

Hey there!

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A DIFFERENT ENDING

» A wlw YA novel inspired by Mean Girls, set in the early 2000s. The protagonist, Beverly, is a bitch who would do anything to protect her own status as Queen Bee of the school, but things go awry when someone starts blackmailing her boyfriend.

I just thought that it would be fun to use the stereotypical mean girl as more than an antagonist, for once – to give her a personality outside her meanness, an arc, and a redemption.

Also to make her a lesbian.

SOTTO IL PELO DELL'ACQUA (Below The Water Surface)

» A quasi-horror story set in an all girl summer camp. A group of girls is stuck on a small island where strange things happen. Some of the other campers start acting weird, and Mallory Brown thinks she knows the reason: something powerful and ancient is hiding in the woods...

Sadly, I'm not writing this one in English. Anyway, I wanted to have a story with a majorly female cast, since I feel there's a lack of works that focus on female friendship. I'm doing my part 🤭

SOME TAGS TO HELP YOU NAVIGATE MY BLOG

who would've guessed? sometimes i write → my own writing, excerpts from my wips, complete short stories

writing → general tag about writing

the toolbox 🧰 → writing advice and resources

about stories → tropes & co.

𓃠 → original posts

👁 → visual sources of inspiration

💡 → prompts and ideas

📷 → photography tag

once upon a time → others' comics and stories

If you read till the end, thanks! Have a nice day 🖤

about me

Antony Louis is a pen name

He/They

I’m studying Geology and am big into earth science, traveling, bugs (entomology vibe), folk music, and the color green

Outside of writing, I also post world building updates/tips, prompts, and some personal junk with D&D goofs mixed in somewhere

I also paint and play guitar (you can see some of that on my ig:milkybirdseed)

…as a writer

Mostly high/dark fantasy, and some sci-fi and realistic

Lots of worldbuilding with unique species and ecosystems, I like to tie in what I learn from studying into my building

Non-binary, trans, and queer rep galore

18+ themes on the gore and subjects side, but not much nsfw

Lots of found family, opposites attract, and anti-hero tropes

I have a comical hatred for the misunderstanding trope

WIPS!

Cygnus

This is the overarching world that pretty much all my writing takes place in at different time periods. It’s a massive world building project in the form of a series of Author’s Notes about the science behind the planet, ecosystems, etc, and a series of unorganized journals written by an immortal adventurer to explain species of animals, plants, races, economics, etc. Characters from my short stories make appearances through interactions and/or descriptions of the location their story takes place.

Check out my other socials if you like super inconsistent posting schedules of random shit :)

All she could muster was stand there, paralyzed by her discomfort, by the feeling she was doing something wrong, being so left out, not wanting to annoy anyone, by mixing in. Asking. Reaching out.

She couldn't take the sight for more than 10 seconds before bulking. No matter how objectively ridiculous it seemed afterwards.

Just didn't expect it to happen here of all places.

The Flying Islands were legendary. Floating shards of earth in the sky, children running out of their homes to point at them, to add meaning to the shapes, to imagine what dragons might be sleeping there.

But the Isles were forbidden territory. Unexplored. Mysterious. Dangerous. The weather and nature there were so wild and unpredictable, humans couldn't tame them, even after 100 years of their sudden burst into existence.

They say they were created at the same time as the old Dragonknight Order fell. They say there was an explosion, conspiracy. Or an accident. Many versions and no way to fact check.

But there was a way to get to see them. One day excursion on the Islands with soon to be graduates from the most prestigious university of magic offered the one in a life chance to set foot on the Islands. Try to reach out to its wild magic with their own. Hope, semester after semester, that with this honour, one day, a discovery came.

Or any kind of new knowledge, really.

Skye felt so confident going there. She was the only mind mage in the last 5 years to go there, for the incredible rarity of mind mage graduates. She was with the top group of students researching it.

That fateful day, she wore a dark blue blazer to highlight her stormy eyes and a striped shirt. Had a new haircut, her silver blond hair just under her chin. She felt beautiful wearing her confidence.

All before the exciting research trip went to hell. A sudden storm caught their airship. They were stuck. Stranded on a small island, a shard shaped piece of rock and mud above a bigger greener shard.

The only means of transpiration without their automatically flown and failed airship were the magic powered gliders.

Gliders powered by physical magic. Soulfire magic that came as a visible tangible fog from the mage. Or Elemental magic, that involved the magicae of the mage connecting to their trained element. The element they were used to resonate with.

Mind magic was the only existing type of completely non physical magic. It worked on a mental level, connecting with anything with consciousness. It couldn't power the gliders.

So, her lovely classmates went ahead and abandoned her to her own fate. For the "greater good of the many'' they said.

"Really, you should insist on sacrificing yourself. You should want to save as many people as possible. Why are you making it hard on us?"

Their de facto leader, a blood mage, informed her in a completely serious, earnest tone.

Hard on you? I'm so sorry, it's so hard on you to write me off as useless and leave me to die!

What can you expect from a blood mage, right? Self-righteous idiots. Just cause their magic was the most used in the medical field, they thought they ate the universe's wisdom and had the right to use the "for the greater good" phrase. She never liked the sound of that argument.

A moral trap people told you, whenever they wanted you to sacrifice something they had no right to claim.

But now, she was the sacrifice for the greater good and she should be thankful. Even insistent and willing.

Looking at their departing backs, she didn't know if she wanted to cry or scream. But she held her tongue, her expression schooled in stony features. Her talent was always not showing her emotions.

Only one persona stayed behind.

Zephyr.

He had black curly hair cut short from the sides, but long enough in the middle to fall into his forehead. Sea green eyes, changing with the light, like they couldn't decide if they wanted to be green or blue. They fascinated her. Or they would have, any other day.

He had an athletic build and wore his shirt and blazer with enough contempt to reveal he wasn't used to them. But his face was calm and his voice steady as he argued with their classmates. In her defence.

"You can't just sacrifice a human life."

"Oh don't be so preachy, Zephyr. You have a soulfire training hall, right? You train that for heroic professions, like police, dragon management, rescue service? Didn't they teach you maths?" Her classmate said. Skye couldn't remember his name, although she heard it once. She was always bad with names. Names, faces, and people she didn't care about.

"Do you want to die?" Another added.

But he insisted on staying with her, although the endeavour seemed hopeless. There was no way he could help her on his own. Even if they thought of something, they probably couldn't do it without the gliders their classmates took, to heighten their own chances.

It shouldn't surprise her. In critical situations, people always thought of themselves. Fear for one's own safety was deafening. Hysterical. Unmanageable.

As much as she hated them for leaving, she didn't feel any comfort by Zephyr staying. It seemed futile, self-destructive even. Maybe he was calm, cause he was doing what he believed in, but was it worth dying for your beliefs?

Curious thing, to pity him and not herself. In critical situations, she blocked her feelings. Didn't want to feel anything she would if she let herself right then. Like a switch. Bet nobody else without her mind mage training could do it.

It was just the price she paid. With her magic potential, with her discipline of the mind and keen intellect, she could have chosen any magic. Blood magic even. All the respect and trust and money that came with that.

But no, she chose the magic that interested her, that she believed in, that made her heart sing and eyes sparkle, that made her life more interesting than her dreams.

Didn't realise that something so rare would be so barely understood. So unknown. That she would be written off as useless at the first opportunity.

She paid her price.

But what about Zephyr? He didn't fit in her constellation of the world. She hated he was the only one, her only saviour, her only hope, the benevolent one that pitied her enough to stay.

"Don't worry. I won't leave you."

She nodded and hugged herself. Pretended to be lost and scared. Rage and sense of offence wouldn't make her sympathetic to him and she didn't know if she didn't end up needing him after all.

Couldn't muster an answer though, so they walked in silence. Found a good tree to sleep by.

Zephyr gave her a reassuring smile.

Skye couldn’t wait until he fell asleep.

She reached out her fingers to him. Usually she had to make up pleasant dreams to make her clients grant her entrance into their minds. But this close up and at sleep? All guards down, trusting her to be an innocent frail little victim? Pche. All she needed was touch. One finger on finger.

She could touch him and go through his mind. One millimetre of skin and she would know who he was, why he saved her, what he was playing at. No way this was a selfless thing. Maybe he was in shock. Maybe he didn't believe the danger. Maybe he was too stupid or too arrogant to understand it. Maybe he wanted to be a hero. Maybe he was just suicidal.

If she touched him, she could know all about him. Likely why she was so bad with people. She preferred to get this "getting to know you" phase quickly and effectively over with. Just one little touch.

But when she reached out with her mind, the ground shook beneath them. The tree moved its roots, shifting them around their bodies, as if a hand was cradling them. She winced, but suddenly they stopped again, just barely not touching her.

Silence followed. The darkness felt thick against her skin, an itchy coat to throw away.

She shut her eyes. This wasn't right. She shouldn't be mind raping her saviour's mind. Even though she hated to be saved by this stranger. Even though she didn't want to need saving in the first place.

Her fingertips tingled with the prepared magic. Skye prepped herself up against the ground with both hands. This was wrong.

A drizzle started then. What a dose of bad luck today.

Closing her eyes, she lie against the ground, hands spread out around her body. The ground felt warm under her back, solid and strong. Why was it shaking? The shard was big and slow enough not to be able to feel its movement. Why did it shake?

The water from the drizzle ran down her cheeks, her neck, her bare arms. Palms turned outward, she let go of her ready magic, of the focus, like throwing an arrow into the sky instead of her unknowing victim.

A pulse. A flash of lighting to her body. A kick into her mind. Something responded. Something connected.

Skye never felt a mind like that. Her sense of her body, her situation, her surroundings disappeared. She was a blade of grass beside her head. She was a bee. She was part of the tree, roots deep underground, communicating with the other roots. Everything was connected. All the little pieces, the shards, the trees, the rocks, the insects made up a net of connections, of flashes of light, life, consciousness. A net over it all, pulsing, alive.

There was no way to stop.

And the net, it was still going. A leaf. A moose. A butterfly over a sleeping body of a dragon. Then she was a dragon, with the weight of wings on her back, with eyes yellow as melted gold.

As if the Islands lived. Breathed. Connected with everything and everyone, they were one big net, one big ecosystem. Exhilarating.

But still. Something was beneath it all. Not just a singular point in a net, but a voice. A consciousness.

Who are you? she asked.

Another mind. Very strong. Mingling with all the points, all the connections, but changing shape. It was sleepy and heavy and slow, but it was an entity separate from the living net of the Islands.

Who is asking?

It was a voice that answered, rumbling deeply in her mind.

She wasn't sure who she was anymore. Part of everything and nothing. Part of the Islands but also a person of her own. Skye. That was her name.

She couldn't formulate words anymore, swimming in and out of self-awareness. Turning into a stream of thoughts, memories, moments that made her a whole being.

So that was what she sent him. A focused stream of who she was. What she felt. What happened to her.

The consciousness, the stranger, shifted. Changed. Activated. Like waking up from a long dream, he, she or it reacted to her thoughts. To the onslaught of memories.

Now there were glimpses coming back. The person, vast and wide like a whole world, giant and overwhelming enough to connect with the whole net of the Islands, couldn't answer. It was confused. But still, she got the glimpses.

Explosion. Blood. Dragons. Giant castle-like building. Impressions and emotions. Pieces of sadness, of grief, of loss and a void.

Escape, escape, escape.

It was too much. He needed to escape. Turned into a tree. A rock. A fly. A dragon. What did it matter? Seeing the world from a different vantage point. Trying another form of existence. Everything, just to not feel the pain.

It took all her skill and experience, all her deep self-reflection and discipline to pull herself back. To realise how she was to separate herself from him. Skye. My name is Skye.

Who are you? she repeated to him. He was becoming clearer on the edges, forming a shape of colour and blackness.

Hal. The only word in the mess of thoughts and memories, of flashes that only vaguely made up a form.

He was too strong. A mage with so much power would be considered a god. The closest to a god their atheistic society, based around magic, had.