weekly
Thursday, July 3, 2025 - Wednesday, July 9, 2025
1,443 words

Our first weekly is out now, focusing on character development! https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/695082/?page=3#post-8617933

PART 1: Creating a Flawed Character

Silver’s fatal flaw is self-doubt; most of his maladaptive behaviors stem from this trait. His overthinking often gets in the way of taking action. Not trusting his ability to make good decisions, he lets others take the lead instead, averse to causing a stir. He is competent enough on his own, but in the spotlight, he freezes up. Although he is very observant and feels deep empathy for others, he often struggles to communicate this, making him feel isolated. He finds it easier to say what others want to hear than to put his genuine thoughts and feelings into words. At times, he even struggles to be honest with himself. In comparison to his rich inner world, his “real” self seems to fade into the background. He wants to matter more than this, but rather than fight it, he accepts it as part of who he is. He believes that if he waits long enough, things will get better for him.

PART 2: Outlining How the Character Will Develop

For a long time, Silver wasn’t sure what he wanted. He avoided the question, even in his own mind. Instead, he focused on being able to support others on their quests. Caring greatly about his brother, Birch, he followed along when Birch made the bold choice to leave their home in the Canyon Colony to search for their father, Thorn.
Fairly quickly, they ran into danger, and Silver almost drowned. The trauma of this not only damaged his faith in his own abilities, but shook his relationship with Birch, both of them scared to face how close they’d come to losing each other. They became slightly more distant as a result.
Another side effect of Silver’s near-death experience was meeting Feather, the ghost of someone who had actually drowned in that river. She was haunted by her past experiences, too, and they bonded over that. However, Silver was the only one who could see the ghost, and this drove him further apart from his living companions. It was at this point that Silver began feeling like a ghost himself, barely relevant to the “real” world.
When he and his group met the colony of shazarxi who lived by the ocean, Silver fell in love with the beauty of the place. He was hesitant to trust the new faces at first, though Feather encouraged him as best as she could. Before too long, a certain few managed to connect with him in ways that no one else had before. This wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable for him—in the case of Rain, it was being directly forced to question his innermost desires—but he came out of it with new understanding.
He also managed to have a heart-to-heart with Birch, finally overcoming the barrier that had been present since Silver’s accident. When the group began heading home, Silver was able to contribute his ideas and help make decisions, though it was still a little overwhelming for him.
Back at the Canyon Colony, he finally overcame his doubts in himself when he flew through falling rocks to protect Birch. Or, well, maybe he didn’t overcome his doubts as much as he saw what needed to be done and simply did it without overthinking it first. He might have reverted back to his former passiveness if it weren’t for Feather, who decided to move on herself. She told Silver to live while he still could, to stop acting like he was already a ghost. Silver accepted that she had to go, and they said their bittersweet goodbyes.
And finally, Silver was ready to start his own life.

PART 3: Understanding Character Motivation

Silver is highly empathetic and most fulfilled when he’s able to understand and support others. However, too much social interaction can exhaust him, so he also seeks time for himself, to be alone with his thoughts. He enjoys introspection and creative thinking.
He wants to live up to others’ expectations, and when there are no expectations placed on him, he is prone to directionlessness. It took him a while to figure out how to set his own goals and live for himself as well as those he cares about. In his conversation/confrontation with Rain, she asks him what he truly wants out of his life. He struggles to come up with an answer, but eventually comes to the concept of self-expression. He wants to be able to share his inner world with the outer world, allowing him to uplift others while also staying in touch with his individual identity.
However, though this may be his purest desire, it isn’t the main motivation for his actions. For most of his journey, he is motivated by fear. He doubts his competence and whether he has anything of worth to contribute. He doesn’t want to mess up and prove himself useless to everyone else. Because of his near-death experience, he is terrified of danger.
The only thing that comes close to counteracting his instinct for self-preservation is his compassion for others. The urge to protect and help those he cares about, and sometimes even those he doesn’t know that well, can lead him to throw himself into situations that he normally would avoid entirely.
He tends to be pretty easygoing and down-to-earth. Instead of grandiose ideas about changing the world and being recognized by everyone, he prefers the concept of being important to a few specific people. He’d rather make a personal difference in a few lives than an impersonal difference in many.

PART 4: Tying It All Together

There’s a ghost that haunts the corner of my mind. She’s always there, but when I turn to look, she stays just at the edge of what I can sense, never getting in the way, never stepping out into the light. Scentless and textureless, she lingers in my thoughts like a memory pretending to be real.
My brother, Birch, forges on ahead, the shine of the moon making his pale feathers glow like a beacon. Dandelion crashes through the foliage alongside him. I follow their trail, swallowed up by shadows. Neither of them look back at me.
Maybe I’m a ghost, too.
Dusk falls while we slip through the trees, the blue skies overhead deepening to black. Small animals rustle through the underbrush, some heading back to their dens and others just waking up. I wonder if they ever question whether they know what they’re doing.
My brother doesn’t want to admit it, but he has no idea where he’s going. “We’re almost there; wait just a little longer,” he tells me. And I wait. “Believe me,” he says. And I try.
It’s the only thing I’m able to do.
I can feel the ghost in my mind observing me. Turning my attention to her, I find my thoughts humming with energy. She seems to be in a good mood today. Not needing words to understand each other, we sing together in abstractions, painting the world in all the colors of our dreams. For a while, everything is exactly like it’s supposed to be.
I wish it all were that easy. I hear the whistling rush of wings diving through the air only an instant before something crashes into Birch, sending him rolling. All thoughts exit my brain as I leap forward, pelt spiking, ready to tear this attacker off of my brother.
But I freeze when the yellow-feathered head of another shazarxa pops up, laughing. Birch stumbles to his paws, teeth bared in a half-snarl at the stranger. The stranger doesn’t seem to notice.
“Hey, y’all!” they chirp. “I’m Wind. Who are you?”
Introductions are exchanged. I don’t say much, but I come along as Wind leads the way to his home. Then I scent the ocean.
I inhale deeply, mesmerized by the salty water coming in on the breeze. My pawsteps hastened, I pass by the others and soon emerge onto a slope. Below me, waves crash upon a rocky beach in an endless dance of motion and sound. Considering I almost drowned once, I probably ought to be afraid of so much water. Yet it’s so beautiful.
When the others catch up, I see that Birch looks similarly shocked, and Wind grins at his dumbfounded expression. The two of them race down to the shore, Dandelion close behind. This time, I don’t follow. Another sound has caught my attention.
A song.
I glance in the direction that the others went, seeing that they’ve already become specks in the distance. My wings shift against my pelt as I realize that I’m all alone in unknown territory.
Well, not quite alone. The ghost in my mind urges me to find the source of the song. She seems to recognize it. So I listen to her.
I step forward.


table of contents

Daily #9

…no formatting because RIP web version on mobile.
“I (attemptedly) wrote a story using only tripleS lyrics” || 167 words

Falling in the water
Can't get you off my mind
No, nevermind
I just wanna like you

You are so colorful
Yeah we have good chemistry
Wanna know it all
Can never get enough

I know that you're up just like me right now
Call me up at 12:00 am
Yeah, don't hesitate
I just wanna rush this

I'm the key to my heart
Don't try to use me
If you wanna know the worth then
Love me better

But I see you lying, me

Who's premium? What you know?
I don't need you, and I won't fit you

Dare I cross the line?
Nothing can hold me back
I will do that, I will do that
Just feel this

You’re right
I think something happened to me
I wanna be more, wanna be more
Shine brighter, shine brighter

But I want it, so I got it
I'm not afraid, I'm out of this world
A dream coming true, this exciting thrill
New dimension, better keep up

—
…I'll add a song list sometime.

•┈๑⋅⋯ ꒰ ꒱ ⋯⋅๑┈•

i. “i know what it’s like to fall and i know what it’s like to fly.”

⋆˚✿ day 9
lyric poem (pt. 1) . sci-fi . 189

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Just so you know, I’m sorry. But suddenly nothing is the way it was. You taught me a lesson that feelings are reckless and left a lot of room for new mistakes. It’s crazy how you’re all I think about, just to learn that you never cared. No worries, no warnings. Nothing but a hole in my chest. I’ve got a lot to live without (and) you’re not the first one left. I never get to fall in love; it’s the best and a curse. I stay up all night, tell myself it’s alright, (but) won’t you just look at me?
Wish it wasn’t true, (but) I’ll always hold out for us. I swear I won’t leave ‘til it’s over. I hate that I still care. Is this what it feels like to love someone?
When I’d fight you used to tell me I was brave; I wish you would tell you how you feel
How’d you get so bulletproof? Guess you got the best of this. Go ahead and tear us apart- I can feel it in my bones, they’re breaking. Sometimes, it’s better to let someone go.

lovebomb - nessa barrett
to love someone - benson boone
footnote - conan gray
older - gracie abrams
someday - lexi jayde
you’re on your own kid - taylor swift
homesick - lexi jayde
empty heart shaped box - benson boone
bigger than the whole sky - taylor swift
october 2th - sadie jean
happier than ever - billie eilish
always almost - rosie darling
right now - gracie abrams
dancing with your ghost - sasha alex sloan
happier than ever - billie eilish
always almost - rosie darling
shoulder to shoulder - tate mcrae
friend - gracie abrams
to love someone - benson boone
my tears ricochet - taylor swift
if i really love you, i’ll let you go - lexi jayde
death wish - gracie abrams
friend - gracie abrams
mr. predictable - avery anna
if i really love you - lexi jayde
older - sasha alex sloan

•┈๑⋅⋯ ꒰ ꒱ ⋯⋅๑┈•

⋆˚✿ day 9
lyric poem (pt. 2) . sci-fi . 229

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Put your pain on me any day (as) for you I would ruin myself. But it hurts to try taking care of everybody, even when you smile. I never get to fall in love (and) you’re not the first one who left. I’ll learn the same lesson over and over, a million little times. I stay up all night, telling myself it’s alright (but) won’t you just look at me? Wish it wasn’t true, (but) I’ll always hold out for us. I swear I won’t leave ‘til it’s over. Is this what it feels like to love someone?
I won’t sleep, ‘cuz I don’t wanna miss you. Guess that happened when we got older. But suddenly nothing is the way it was. You taught me a lesson, that feelings are reckless. How do I love again? ‘Cause it’s all over now (and) I can run, but I can’t hide. You’re all that I wanted, just to learn that you never cared. No worries, no warnings. Nothing but a hole in my chest. Lies filling up the room. No, I’m not losing my mind. It won’t always be this way.
Go ahead and tear us apart. Don’t know what you had until it’s gone. I’ve got a lot to live without. How’d you get so bulletproof? Just so you know, I’m sorry (but) sometimes it’s better to let someone go.

notes -
* songs tba to pt. 2

Weekly #1
1,385 words

Character being used: “Calypso” (placeholder name)
Deuteragonist of a loosely 18th century inspired retelling of the story of Calypso in the Odessey.

Basic Story Beat:
Calypso has been “detained” by her family, influential smugglers in the Caribbean, on a small unknown island. Here she has the resources to survive, but her long isolation has left her devoid of human interaction. However, one day, a marooned sailor (“Jim”) comes ashore and challenges Calypso's worldview. As he tries to find a way home, Calypso herself is faced with the choice to stay in her comfort zone or leave the island for the world that lies beyond. Involves nautical adventures, friendship, and an exploration of the human experience.

Part 1: Creating A Flawed Character
151 words

Calypso can have a curt, belittling way of speaking to others, especially when becoming defensive (which happens a lot). She is irritable, mostly because she is used to things going her way, thus views working with others as an inconvenience. She has difficulty letting others take control (when working on projects) because she feels the need to assert power. Her pride stems from her extensive knowledge – she uses it as an excuse to place herself above others. This leads to her struggling to accept that she can learn from people she dislikes or doesn't respect. In general, she is fussy over details, which makes her harder on herself and others. She also can be nosy, and she doesn't always realize when she is pushing people's boundaries. Ultimately, she is aimless - her situation has led her to never find a purpose or goal for life. She is prideful without any real ambition.

Part 2: Outlining How The Character Will Develop
271 words

The arrival of “Jim”, the protagonist, on her island sparks her primary challenge. He is basically the opposite of Calypso – he wants to explore the world and discover something new. Jim's efforts to find a way off disrupt her daily routine, thus she initially reacts to him with animosity. When it becomes clear that he will not be able to leave anytime soon, she reluctantly accepts his presence, but she is upset that she is no longer able to have everything just the way she likes it. This causes her to treat him coldly. However, as she begins to interact with him more, she learns about his life and perspective on the world. She realizes she can use her knowledge to help him build a boat, which gives her a clear goal for once in her life. She also begins to befriend him. His stories provide her with the most personal connection she has ever had to the outside world, making her question her comfort zone. This begins to create a divide within herself, as she realizes that she is lacking in human connection, but fears losing control over her environment. Additionally, she fears changing her long-held opinions on her life. As she adapts to a new routine with Jim, her goals evolve from solo, civilized survival to doing something meaningful with a positive impact. Ultimately, she decides that by staying on the island, she is being harmed by her isolation and lack of ability to grow. She chooses to leave the island with Jim, in hopes of reconciling her past and forging a new path for herself in the unknown.

Part 3: Understanding Character Motivation
292 words

Calypso's parents placed her on the island a few years before present story time for “her protection”. Apparently, they had some dangerous people coming after them and felt the need to whisk away their only daughter until everything smoothed over. Considering the fact that her parents have questionable business practices of their own, whoever was coming after them was probably justified, but that is conflict for later in the storyline. Calypso understands that she is on the island to safely survive, both because she was old enough (around 16) to recognize what was happening when she was first placed on the island and because she was very intentionally conditioned to island survival during the first few months. Thus, her own safety is one of her primary motivators. She wants to be able to reunite with her family. She has become increasingly anxious and afraid someone may come and hurt her, primarily because that would mean, to her, that something bad had happened to her family. On a physiological level, Calypso is motivated by her want for a place where she can belong, be loved, and grow. While initially she views this “safe haven” as her island, she realizes that it doesn't actually fulfill any of these wants. She only “belongs” there because she is the only person there, thus everything can go her way. She isn't really loved because there is no one else there; she just believes the island kind of promises that she will see her family again. She cannot grow there because of her limited number of books and her isolation. Realizing this and having Jim's friendship pushes her to leave so she can actively seek out these three things instead of waiting for them to happen to her.

Part 4: Tying It All Together
671 words

She could tell it wasn't going to go well from the get-go.

As Calypso walked through the tree line, she watched Jim struggle at the ocean shore. He was quickly finding out that his raft, hastily constructed with driftwood and hope, was not seaworthy in the slightest. Turns out the sailor wasn't a good shipwright.

She stopped and watched him try to get on the raft, only for it to flounder in the water and dump him off. She could have helped him build a better one, but she had wanted to keep her distance from the sailor. She couldn't relax when he was around. She couldn't even meet his eyes.

He lugged the raft to the sand and dumped it unceremoniously. She started to dart back through the trees deeper into the island when she heard an aggravated yell. Wincing, she glanced over her shoulder. Jim's small figure on the shore seemed almost dejected.

Calypso paused, hand on a tree, and chewed her lip. When she messed up, she usually stormed around and raged, taking the time to hit something as she stomped away. Jim was still. Whatever was going through his mind, he didn't think it was worth revealing. She drummed her fingers on the tree trunk at that thought. Perhaps she could at least give him a little guidance. That would help him leave sooner.

She turned and walked towards the shore. Her heart started pounding. She couldn't do this.

Refocusing her gaze on Jim, she saw that he was sitting by his raft now. It reminded her of the morning she found him, helplessly curled up in the sand, just far enough from the water escape the pull of the ocean. He wouldn't hurt her - she knew that much.

“Hello,” she tried, standing a polite distance away from him.

He slowly turned to look at her. “Hullo.”

The sailor had a very strange look about him. His skin was paler than that of most people she remembered, though his face had turned a blotchy red. And his eyes … She squinted and looked away towards the ocean. His eyes were strange and brilliantly blue, and she couldn't stand to look at them long.

“I thought you might need some assistance,” Calypso said. “If you don't mind, that is.”

Jim gestured limply at his raft, which was falling apart.

“Eh,” he said. "I'm not going anywhere in that.“

”I meant for your next one.“ She idly buried a foot in the sand. ”If you want.“

”Really?“ Jim asked, fixing her with a very sharp sort of look, as if he couldn't believe she was offering.

”Yes,“ she said curtly. ”I mean, you're doing this all wrong. Do you even know how far you'll have to go before you reach a port?“

She pointed to his raft. ”Because that isn't going to cut it.“

He pursed his lips and looked at the water. She waited for him to get up and walk off the way he did the last couple of times she ”foiled“ his distress signals.

Instead, he began to laugh. It was a very small laugh, but a laugh nonetheless, and it startled her so much she wondered for a split second just how much of everyday life she was really missing out here, all alone. Until now.

”Okay, sure.“ He looked back up at her, an amused expression on his face. ”But do you even know anything about building boats?“

”Oh, I have books,“ she said. ”Lots of books about all the things you haven't taken into account.“

”Well, she's got books!“ Jim said to no one in particular, which Calypso found a little odd, but endearing.

”Do you think there's hope?“ he asked, getting up and brushing sand off himself.

She paused to think for a moment. Hope was a tricky thing.

”There is always hope,“ she said finally. ”But only if you listen to me.“

Another laugh. Despite herself, she couldn't help but smile.

”Now come,“ she said authoritatively. ”We have research to do."

weekly for gothic! 1264 words


Part 1 - 228 words
(the character i’m using is named will (she/he)!)
-One of his biggest flawed traits is her trust issues. Because of her childhood where she was essentially used and manipulated by the adults in power her entire life, it takes her a very long time to trust people, especially those who are older than him. She’s suspicious of pretty much everyone she meets until they can prove to her that she can trust them.
-Besides being untrusting of most people, he’s also really spontaneous and rebellious, and probably isn’t going to do much planning before she does something. For example, escaping from the factory on a train and having no prior plans to do so. Following the laws and not trying to topple corrupt oligarchies is not one of his strong suits.
-And finally, she can be really overprotective of people she does trust—particularly with Harley, Plank, and Ruka, who are her roommates (or kind of cellmates I suppose—) that she escapes on the train going to Rich People Central with.
(Which is actually called the Blooming District, and it’s located around where Idaho, Nevada, and Utah meet. The whole story is set in a dystopian North America where the United States was. The underground factory that made things for the Blooming District is in the northern part of Kentucky and the train runs from there to the District.)


Part 2 - 267 words
THE ✨BEGINNING ✨
(Because that is, after all, a very good place to start.)
Will isn’t selfish, exactly, but he never really pays attention to others besides him, Ruka, Plank, and Harley. All he really wants is to keep them safe, but to him, he doesn’t know anyone else, so he never sees the importance of paying attention to them. She follows the rules and keeps her head down, and is a good worker, but doesn’t think too highly of himself. She’s also very untrusting and is suspicious of everyone until she gets to know them and knows that they can be trusted.

THE END
Will has toppled an oligarchy and escaped from a prison twice. So as you might expect, she’s a little more confident now. He’s also more compassionate and empathetic towards others, and is more focused on helping them rather than only taking care of himself. Plank, Harley, and Ruka are still her best friends, buuuut she’s also dating Xander now because I am incapable of writing a character and not shipping them with someone. Both of them obviously have a bit of trauma (having all of your memories removed and being forced to work for a corrupt government does that) so she’s learning how to deal with that and work through it as well. Finally, she’s learned how to balance being spontaneous and actually planning.

and spoiler alert she and xander get married like ten years later and have two twins (mabel and charlie) because they are a power couple and because once i’ve decided two characters are dating i physically cannot break them up


Part 3 - 225 words

Will’s motivation is a bit complicated sometimes. Her main motivation at first is simply to escape Platform Seven with her friends. She doesn’t really care about the other children there or even about the District people; she only wants to get out with his life. He planned to just run away and start a new life somewhere where she wouldn’t be found. However, while on the train that she escapes on, she reads the files of new children that are supposed to come to Platform and learns that their memories have all been wiped and false memories have been planted in their place (to make them think that the government is good, they’re not servants to them, etc) and that all the children will be “sent away” (oofed. lovely world here i know) and replaced if they can’t perform to the standards of Platform. She recognizes what’s going on and that somebody has to help them, and after that, her motivation changes: she wants to get her real memories back and help the other children. In the end of the (what i’m hoping will eventually be a) novel, after she’s completed his goal, she is searching through the old government files and finds her own file, where she sees the same of her parents, and her focus shifts to finding them in a second story.


Part 4 - 544 words

Will was moving very fast, and she didn’t know where to, but oddly enough, she wasn’t panicked. She was supposed to be here, wasn’t she?

As far as he could tell, he was the only person on the train, or at least the only one in this car. Everything was silver and white; it all looked very sleek and modern, and the only other thing in the room was a flat table on the other side of the car. She was sitting on the bottom bunk of a bunk bed in clothes she didn’t remember having—a brown long sleeve shirt, tan cargo pants, black combat boots. Her hair had been slicked back and tied into a ponytail. She didn’t remember her hair being this long; it felt unnatural as her fingers ran through it.

The train began to slow as it approached what Will assumed was her train station. There were heavy footsteps outside the car and people’s muffled shouting, and somebody was approaching the door to Will’s left. It slid open and a muscular woman in a uniform stepped into the room. “Will, age fourteen, bigender, she/he, correct?” she said. Will couldn’t place her accent; it made every word seem clipped and scientific, but she was correct. Will nodded. “Good. Come with me.”

***

Will stepped off the train with the woman and was led down a brightly lit hallway. Everything was the same colors and design as the train and the lack of color was staring to bug her, or maybe she was just going crazy, because she knew she was supposed to be there but her fight or flight senses were telling her to run far, far away. His eyes darted around nervously as he was led into another room where a boy, only maybe 15 years old but with a cold face, was waiting.

The woman nodded to him curtly and then left, the door sliding closed behind her. He surveyed her up and down before he spoke. “This is Platform Seven. Welcome. You’re our newest recruit. You’ve been chosen to work and live here on behalf of the gracious leaders of the Blooming District.

“You will receive a key to your room, which you will share with three other recruits, another set of clothes, and a cafeteria pass. Do not lose these items, because if you do, they won’t be replaced. Wake-up is at 6:30 AM. Breakfast at 7. Lunch at noon. And dinner at 6, then in bed by 9:30. Clear?”

“Yes.”

The boy’s face softened just a bit. “Good. I’m Xander, by the way. Your roommates haven’t been here long, either, but they’ll help you adjust. You’ll get used to it. It won’t be long until you’ve got everything down like clockwork. Now, follow me, please.”

***

Xander led Will down yet another hallway before stopping at a door. “You’ve just missed dinner, so there should be some food in your room. Your roommates names are Plank, Ruka, and Harley, by the way—they should be coming back soon, so you can get introduced. I’m your head for this hall of dorms, so I’ll be the one taking you to and from meals, et cetera. Here’s your key, and everything else is already in your room. See you tomorrow morning.”

July 9 Daily
153 words

They tell me grief is just love letting go.
I am tired of my grief

Can you help me find a way to carry on again?
I feel so broke up. I've been feeling so alone. And it feels so selfish to say l'm alone. I can tell you all about it.
I'm sayin' too much, but you know how it gets out here.

But I remember when you said
Maybe we've been living with our eyes half open. There's a world outside that's waitin'. Don't accept this defeat. We don't have time for that. You feel your dreams are dying, hold tight. Take my hand, follow me, we can live each moment like it hasn’t happened yet. Past and present, they don't matter, now the future's sorted out

I keep my head down, But I swear on everything I have and more I won't be alone for the rest of my life.

Songs (in order)

Carlo's Song - Noah Kahan They tell me grief is just love letting go.
The Wisp Sings - Winter Aid I am tired of my grief
Swing Swing - All-American Rejects Can you help me find a way to carry on again?
Sloop John B - The Beach Boys I feel so broke up.
Love Story - Taylor Swift I've been feeling so alone.
S.I.S. - Judah & The Lion And it feels so selfish to say l'm alone.
It's Corn - Recess Therapy I can tell you all about it.
All My Love - Noah Kahan I'm sayin' too much, but you know how it gets out here.
GHOST - Minute After Midnight But I remember when you said
Meant to Live - Switchfoot Maybe we've been living with our eyes half opn. (for some reason it thinks this is unsuitable language)
Wild Dogs (Running in a Slow Dream) - Matchbox Twenty There's a world outside that's waitin'.
Black and Blue - Seabird Don't accept this defeat.
Icarus - The Crane Wives We don't have time for that.
You Get What You Give - New Radicals You feel your dreams are dying, hold tight.
You Can Win If You Want - Modern Talking Take my hand, follow me
Here's To Hoping - Michael Logen & Jennifer Hanson we can live each moment like it hasn’t happened yet
1901 - Phoenix Past and present, they don't matter, now the future's sorted out
Good Kid - The Lightning Thief Musical I keep my head down
The Sound of Pulling Heaven Down - Blue October But I swear on everything I have and more
Forever - Noah Kahan I won't be alone for the rest of my life.

- weekly 1

section 1 - flaws - 241 words
Even magical cats will have flaws, of course! Yeah, a bit cliché and probably something someone would make in 2017, but hey, 2017 Mary Sues don't have flaws, this guy will.

Impulsivity; it's common and a realistic flaw for a lot of characters to have! Some of us, fictional or real people, just make those impulsive decisions. This character will be no stranger to that! In fact, it also drives him to be rather childish. That's another flaw! He's childish, and not in the good way some people can be, no way. He sometimes has temper tantrums worse than a five-year-old stripped of their favorite candy.

I've ought to sprinkle on some potentially dangerous amounts of curiosity. The kind where you get so nosy, you find out things you wish you never did and it becomes a problem. We've essentially got here a young adult feline who acts exactly like a young kid, so why not keep going with that pattern?

Fake courage – a mask of bravery which the fear shines through in bad times. Thinking he's got to be brave no matter what, because he's grown now and he can't be the scaredy-kit in the corner! To him, that means never asking for help, and it fails for him in a dire situation, as well as deceiving those around him into thinking he can handle what he really is just barely getting through. Stubbornness brings some depth as well.

section 2 - character development - 381 words
Now, even a dude like this will undergo character development in his story. Believe me, I was something quite similar to that once, and I like to believe I've changed quite a bit. So, something will change our buddy here as well! Though, it can't be too abrupt; it will happen mostly smoothly over the course of his story. Let's put the aforementioned flaws to work here.

Curiosity and the fake bravery, well, it'll lead him to go on some potentially dangerous adventure. What this adventure is, I'm not entirely sure yet, but I will be able to figure that out. It may not be a physical adventure, even! However, it will lead him to realizations. Impulsivity and stubbornness can lead to him making a bad choice involving this new information, potentially including misuse of his abilities.

Due to the magic system I am slowly crafting out in my head, misconduct relating to magic has the consequence of one's abilities being taken away. Since this turns out to be our buddy's fifth strike in the same year with magic misuse, he gets it taken away indefinitely.

At least, until he can prove himself.

How must he prove himself, you ask? Well, he has to better himself. He has to make better choices. Be a better cat. At first, he finds this silly. Why wouldn't he? Again, he's quite stubborn. But he realizes that life is quite difficult to navigate now that he's had his powers revoked for longer than a week. So, he makes a decision. He'll try this “being better” thing out, but to himself, the whole way he's saying it's all for the magic.

Along this journey to act like a kinder and more worthy cat, he makes friends. He even finds love, something he thought he didn't even need. That he convinces himself he still doesn't need, until he finally realizes at some point that he really does need it. And these people in his life now make him finally admit that he truly does want to be better, not for the magic, but because he's finally grown up and realized it's the right thing. The people around him give him the support he probably should've had growing up to avoid him never emotionally or mentally growing up.

section 3 - motivation - 211 words
Motivation. This man's initial motivation – what drove him through life for years – was benefitting himself. He thought that he deserved everything in the world – all the loyal friends and family, all the riches and other valuables, all the things that others wanted or did have that he was jealous of. So, he did everything in his power to get what he wanted. That mission is what made him slip. And, technically, throughout this story, even after the development, his motivation doesn't change all that much. However, he becomes less selfish about it.

As I mentioned before, he starts off very childish and such. He wants everything for himself. But he doesn't really want love, or so he convinces himself. But in the end, that's all he really wants, and it's what he gets as well. Even if it took some work. In reality, this character has always wanted to be cared about, but he always gaslit himself and others into thinking he didn't want what he called “sappy love,” which actually would just be real and authentically expressed love and care.

His motivation is consistent, even if it slightly changes. He doesn't stop wanting what he thinks is good for him, but what he thinks is good for him does change.

section 4 - short story conclusion - 494 words
I may be called childish all the time, but I know for a fact that I am not sappy and cheesy. So why does she make me want to act that way?

I don't know how I even ended up in her house. Was I in the rain too long and I ended up passing out in the middle of the street? That's crazy, but… it's actually logical. So, I guess it works.

This girl, taking in some random stranger she doesn't even know anything about. Is she crazy? I have a house of my own, I don't need to be brought to someone else's like some stray.

But there's something I don't understand. There's something in the way she talks, the way she looks. It's like it's intoxicating me, and it's driving me insane. I hate it.

“Oh, dear, you're up. Do you need anything? You… um, you hit the ground quite hard back there. Do you need something for your head?”

Alright, she's got to shut that snout of her's right about now before I get up and snap it shut for her right now.

But… I can't get up? This is so weird. My bones are hurting and aching, I can't stand it. My head has occasional, heavy pangs of pain that have me trying not to make any sound.

“I'm fine… but who in the stars are you?” I said rather weakly. Seriously, what was wrong with me? My voice got all messed up.

“Sorry, um, I never did introduce myself, did I?” The woman in front of me said, and her voice was so kind, so light. It's piercing through my head, but in a weirdly nice way. It's soothing that headache, and it's almost like it's making my joints feel better?

No, no, no… that's got to be in my head. It's not her voice doing that.

“I'm Autumn,” she said. And I could see why. Her coat was an almost pretty orange-ish color with brown stripes and black and white accents. Like some kind of strange calico. “Autumn Oakley. My family owns the Oakley Healing business down by the bay. I saw you fall unconscious on the street and hit your head pretty hard, so like any nurse in training, of course I had to help you out.”

Still too nice. Was she ever going to cut that out?

“Anyways, I think you've caught a cold. I took your temperature just a bit ago and it's already concerningly high. Would you like me to help treat that, or do you want me to send you off to your house?”

I couldn't resist. My eyes softened.

“Would you mind… helping? I don't care, just give me some random meds to help and I'll be on my way. I don't got anything at home, I don't think.”

She smiled. “I'll be right back to you with that.”

And with that, she hopped away.

Scout, what has gotten into you?

total words: 1,327

7/3/25
Part 1: To begin this weekly, figure out an idea of your character's flaws–their negative traits that might drive them to make poor decisions. Summarize the flaws you've come up with in at least 150 words to complete your first part!

Elizabeth’s worst, and perhaps even fatal flaw, is one of her most defining traits: her loyalty. Of course this is good, she will always protect and value the people she holds dear to her, whether that’s her family back at the orphanage or the other Instrumental Muses. But that’s the thing, she values them to an intense degree, leading her to care for them at the expense of herself. This shows in small things, like remembering every single one of her siblings’ birthdays except her own, but it also shows in her other flaws.

The most obvious at first glance is her rashness. Loyalty to her family will lead her to always do what she thinks is best for them, even if that means self-sacrifice. Loyalty to her cause means running into a high security prison with nothing but a flimsy plan at best. Some of it is optimism, she does believe that everything will go right in the end, but the root cause is really her strong dedication to her loved ones and her goals.

` She also is very emotional, though her loyalty makes her bottle it up. She has to be strong because she knows she’s depended on. She once had anger issues, or at the very least was angry at the world, but now she’s practically unrecognizable from her younger self because she had no reason to be angry. Not when other in her family were brought to the orphanage under much worse circumstances than she, and not when she can become the person she once needed most.

Elizabeth has other flaws of course: over-optimism– as mentioned earlier–she can be quick to forgive outwardly yet hold a grudge she doesn’t even realize she has, she’s unorganized, clueless sometimes, but she’s trying her best. She really is. She has to bring color back to the world, she just has to. Anything to put a smile on her siblings’ faces.

Part 3: Now write 200 words explaining the motivation behind the character. Have fun!

Elizabeth is motivated by both her family and her desire for adventure, though she only admits to the first. Elizabeth very much cares for her siblings at the orphanage and has learned to be happy with the life she has, but children tend to be needy and she’d do anything for them. That’s why when her younger siblings asked to know what color looks like, and when she was finally gifted her red violin, she decided it was up to her to gather the rest, even if she didn’t really know what she was doing, how color was even lost, or if the myths are really true, the instruments being of a dead goddess’s blood and all.

Other than that she is motivated for her thirst for adventure. Though she went from her own home with her father to the orphanage with Ms. B and her siblings, Elizabeth has always lived in Ashtown her entire life and though she’s satisfied with her life, she knows there’s more out that and wants to experience it. She just doesn’t want to leave her sibling more than that and believes her wish to be selfish, thats why when finding the instruments and bringing color back coincides with having to leave the orphanage, she’s even more willing to take that impossible chance.

Part 2: Enjoy crafting your character, and ensure that you write at least 200 words to move on to the next part!

Elizabeth goes through an arc of learning to be selfish, due to her flaw of near sacrificial loyalty, though this arc comes with a cost. She’s always quick to jump into action and never plans. She’s always intent on saving everyone and seeing the best in others who can’t even see the best in themselves. But her mission isn’t a story, there are stakes she learns to are real and must be taken seriously. Mid way through the story she realizes her mission of finding the instruments is not only dangerous to her, and not just dangerous to her fellow instrument holders, the Muses, but a danger to her family, the very people she went on this quest for. The very people she wants to see happy. This worsens her fatal flaw, making her not even loyal to everyone, not trying to save everyone as she once did, but now she wants this quest over, she needs it to be, its too late to quit, but this time she’ll make sacrifices. Even if it means her friends. Even if it means herself. She has to do it for all of them. But once that’s over, she heals, and learns there is value to herself as well.

Part 4:
Elizabeth sat alone in her fortress, her brother Tommy had called it, though she would much rather see it as a home. It isn’t one. The room she’s in is dam p and cracked in the walls and filled with death she’d rather not think about. She feels alone in the moment, she wished she had Damien here to help her sort her thoughts, but he didn’t even care about her mission, why would he be.

She strummed her violin alone, not even bothering to pick up her bow and wondered about the new person she’d invited to her fortress. Her prison, really, but she’d rather not see it that way. Mary-Anne was her name, and Elizabeth just could not understand her. She was young, around Tommy’s age and yet she acted like an adult, more mature than even Elizabeth. And that can’t be healthy. It isn’t healthy, Elizabeth knows that for certain. Mary-Anne isn’t okay as much as Elizabeth loathes to think of a child such a way. What kind of child who is perfectly well, would set a prison ablaze on purpose. What sort of child would jump out of a window to escape. What kind of child would be smiling in the prison cell Elizabeth found her in. That child, Mary-Anne, she couldn’t be and Elizabeth didn’t know what to do.

She’s a danger. One part of her screamed, and yet Elizabeth could only think on how she refused to hold her instrument. MAry-Anne is the holder of the yellow lyre, and yet unlike Elizabeth she refuses to touch it. She acts as if it is cursed, not blessed as Elizabeth has heard other’s describe it. She was able to figure Mary Anne grew up in a church so why was she so opposed to something belonging to her goddess? And yet, Mary Anne was intent on bringing color back, just as much as Elizabeth wanted to, if only to make Tommy and Sophia and Abigail and all her other siblings in the orphanage smile. If only to rud Damien’s head, messing it and teasing him about how it wasn’t impossible, how Elizabeth did do it. If only to make them happy. But Mary-Anne wasn’t happy, and for all Elizabeth knew, Mary-Anne had no one. She was a walking contradiction to Elizabeth and the road forward she knew would be hard. Mary-Anne is the only child Elizabeth can’t seem to read and its tearing her mind apart.

But Elizabeth doesn’t care. She can not care. Not if she wants to change the world from black white and gray to one of color like she’s heard it was once filled with. Even if she has to take a not well child and lead her to the happiness she wants to show everyone else so be it. Elizabeth will do it.

daily
Wednesday, July 9, 2025
150 words

I’m sure many of us have listened to songs that portrayed a story, but what if we created a story portrayed by songs? If you’re thinking of things to do, let’s take a look at today’s daily! For this daily, you’ll be writing a story of 150 words from beginning to end using only lyrics from different songs! Lyrics from a certain song can only be used twice, so be sure to open up your playlists and find a way to make lyrics connect! This is worth 150 points with an extra 100 points for sharing.

(I used “Dear Fellow Traveller” by Sea Wolf, “Brother” by Lord Huron, “Brother” by Kodaline, “Good Grief” by Bastille, “Icarus” by The Crane Wives, “Go Tonight” by Krystina Alabado and Emma Hunton, “You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid” by The Offspring, “Home” by American Authors, “Bad Blood” by Sleeping At Last, “communist love song” by Soltero, “I Know The End” by Phoebe Bridgers, “A Matter of Time” by Jukebox the Ghost, “Until I End Up Dead” by Dream, “When It All Burns Down” by Chad Bault, “Little Talks” by Of Monsters and Men, “Home” by kroh, “…Ready For It?” by Taylor Swift, “Home” by Cavetown, “Beloved” by Mumford & Sons, “We All Go the Same” by Radical Face, and “Sincerely, Me” from Dear Evan Hansen.)

Dear fellow traveler,
How many miles have we wandered? We’ve taken different paths and traveled different roads. In my thoughts, you’re far away and breathing cleaner air. Your words to me echo, and now you’ll lead the way.
I’ve been gone now, for too long. We’ve heard it all before, and I’ve been listening all my life.
But you had to go. It’s only a matter of time, so now I fear, one day I’m gonna disappear. In my mind, I’m leaving, counting up the seasons ‘til I’m gone. Soon, it will be over, and buried with our past.
It’s the end of the world, so won’t you stop and watch it burn with me? Are you ready for it? When I’m ready, I will fly us out of here. We'll sit and talk the stars down from the sky.
In the end, we all go the same.
Sincerely, me.


table of contents

word war
The world seemed so tired in the light, for as Katia leaned out xer window, she saw but a flicker of something more. Kindness perhaps, or maybe it was the fact that war had not broke out in xer’s kingdom for a while. Katia sighed, breathing in cold salty air. Xe had wished the war had stopped sooner, because then maybe would xer mother still be alive. Xe looked over toward her closet where xer mother’s armor shone in the moonlight. It was slightly rusted. But still gleamed. Katia wished for more than anything, xer mother to be back. It wasn’t fair how she died. It was tragic, and for nothing. A casualty of war, one might think. But to Katia, it was as if her world ended. Xe missed xer mother terribly, and no one could fill the hole that she left. Not xer sibling, Ash. Not xer father, and certainly not xer horrible stepmother which xer’s father had married just two months after xer mother’s death. Katia wondered if xer father even loved xer mother in the first place. Or maybe he was just waiting for a chance for her to be gone, forever. A free tear trickled down Katia’s cheek, which xe wiped away quickly. Xe had promised xerself xe wouldn't cry. Even after xer mother died. Katia distracted xerself by typing her newest story, which was about a great warrior much like her mother

238 words, 3 minutes

critiquitaire thingy lol

A really bad poem that I desperately need feedback on. Wrote this in the fifth grade and somewhat tweaked it-

Voices
by navy

the voices in my head,
they aren't mine
they claim to be nice,
then point out my insecurities
laughing at my face.

they tell me i'm not brave enough.

they tell me
my body
will never look
the way i want

they tell me
that they are
right
and i'm
just a pawn

in this
twisted game of
chess.

again
they tell me that
they are right

and all i can say
to contradict them
is that
it doesn't matter

but it does,
and they know that.

i wither
and squirm

because they get
the best of me

and i let them

they voices in my head
they won't go away

they voices in my head
beg to stay,

until i'm drowning in a sea of thoughts
and the worse,

“why me?”

•┈๑⋅⋯ ꒰ ꒱ ⋯⋅๑┈•

i. “forever is a long time, and yet there is always something that comes after.”

⋆˚✿ short story
to fall is to fly (shortened) . sci-fi . 2000

•┈๑⋅⋯ ꒰ ꒱ ⋯⋅๑┈•

i. To fly is to soar, to turn from the weights that bring you down, to break free of the chains that bind you. To fly is to take a risk and find yourself in the skies, miles away from where you thought you’d end up…

I hadn’t seen the lake in years, and yet it was still the same. Quiet. Still. Its reflective surface clear and pristine, tainted with neither ripples nor murkiness, as if it were holding its breath and waiting.
The house belonged to my grandmother, though I hadn’t seen it since my father passed. It had tiny windows and floral curtains, a view of the sunlight dancing along the lake, and the roof I used to lay on, watching the sunset bleed through the clouds in vibrant swatches of color. Rocks and foliage decorated the exterior of the structure. My grandma’am never cared much for taming nature’s beauty and had allowed vines to creep along the walls, blooming with pink and white blossoms.
Technically, the house belonged to my mom now. But she had never seen the house. My father, my grandmother’s only child, took me to the lake house every year, on my birthday. We’d enjoy a serene day, concluding it on the rooftop, grandmother crabbing at us to get down, fussing about our safety and whatnot. My father would only smile and jest, and my grandmother would jab him with her cane and threaten that if we went back up there again, we wouldn’t be allowed back. But every night, both my grandma’am and father would tuck me into bed.
Most vivid amongst the memories of the lake house was the summer I turned nine. My grandma’am had baked me a cake, vanilla with chocolate swirls. That was the only time my mom had talked to us on my birthday. She wasn’t detached… just busy. Work took over her life, blindfolded by her duties while reaching in the darkness for her family. At least, that was always what I told myself.
Before that year, my mom had never tried to call us while we were at the lake house. But that night, the house phone started ringing, almost sounding rusty from years of disuse. My grandma’am picked it up, grouching about how it was probably children dialing random numbers. But of course, it wasn’t. My mom and grandma’am spoke, their words too quiet for me to hear. Then grandma’am passed the phone to me.
The call didn’t last long. All she said was “happy birthday”, which she’d already said that morning, when the sun rose to greet my windows and the last pinks in the sky had faded. She went on for a while about whatnot, speaking quickly since she was apparently late for a meeting. It was always that. Late for a meeting.
Then she told me she loved me. That felt special. That felt different and meaningful. She told me she loved me. And then she hung up.

ii. To fall is to spread your wings and hope the wind will catch you. To fall is to jump, headfirst, into unforgiving waters that leave you soaked to the bone…

It had been five years since I’d been to the lake house. Five years since my father had passed away. Five years since my twelfth birthday.
I gazed into the cloudy sky, brushing away foliage and clearing the stone path. Birds chirped excitedly, aware of my presence, almost as if they had decided to welcome me. Their chimes echoed through the air, soft and serene.
The key felt heavy in my hand, like a weight that I was being forced to bear. My eyes scanned the wood of the house, outlining each groove in the grain that I had memorized so many years before.
And then I slid the key into the lock, twisting the knob as the door, the familiar sound was comforting, attached to memories that were forever entwined in my soul.
I stepped into the small house, closing the door behind me and flicking on the lights. A warm glow spread throughout the room, greeting me and illuminating the room.
It looked exactly like it had all those years ago, like a picture forever encapsulated. Drawers still remained half opened, flower pots still sitting on the countertops where they rested year after year since my seventh birthday. It was as if she still lived here. Her own little realm where time could never pass, their souls still drifting in the air.
I slowly made my way to the room that was once my bedroom, my footsteps quiet. I brushed dust from the piano at the back of the room, its cover still open, my fingers dancing across the keys. As I passed the mirror in the hall, I noticed my reflection in the dusty glass.
Gray eyes peered back at me, almost green in the lighting of the hallway. My blonde hair fell in waves ending just at my shoulders, the same length It’d been my whole life. Freckles peppered my skin, caressing my nose. There was no denying that I was the same girl who passed by it every year on her birthday, marveling at how time had flown.

“Grandma’am, do you still think I look like mama?” I peer up at my grandmother’s face, deep wrinkles only beginning to settle in her skin. Her eyes glow with the same sparkle that my mom’s eyes held- the sparkle that slowly faded through the years.
She smiles down at me, her hand slowly running through my hair comfortingly. “I’d say you look like me more than her or your papa. But you’ve got his freckles, like your grandfather.”
“I never met my grandfather. He had freckles too?” I turn back to the mirror on my tip-toes, scrunching up my face to get a better look. “Papa says they’re kisses of the night sky.”
My grandma’am smiles softly, still caressing my hair. “That’s what I used to tell him, too. I used to read him a story, every night. The story about the girl and the moon.”
I look up at her eagerly, bouncing on my feet. “Could you tell it to me, too?”
“It’s getting late, dear. Maybe tomorrow.”
I stick out my bottom lip in the best impression of what mama calls “the puppy look”. “But we’re leaving tomorrow. And the story is about the moon. Look, I can see it now!” Rising on my toes once more, I turn my head to gaze out the window and point to the silvery orb in the sky, surrounded by millions of tiny stars.
Her eyes follow mine, landing on the moon’s gaze. “Oh, fine. But come quickly, before your papa comes to put you to bed.”
I giggle and follow her to my bedroom, plopping on the bed and sliding beneath the covers decorated in stars. I watch as she turns off the lights with a simple click of a button. Instantly, the stars hanging from the ceiling illuminate, shedding just enough light for me to watch my grandma’am turn on the lamp beside my bed. She opens a drawer, pulling out a large book.
“This is a book of all sorts of stories.”
I nod my head impatiently. “I want to hear the one about the moon!”
“Patience, Sylvie.”
She flips pages before finding the one she was looking for. “Ah, here it is. The girl and the moon.” Clearing her throat, she begins the story. My eyes flutter closed. “Once upon a time, a girl wished she could fly into the stars. She stared out her window every night, the mystery of the cold night air alluring, drawing her to the realm beyond. She wished to fly away, far from the world she lived in, far from the troubles that bound her. One day, the Moon heard the girl’s wishes. She flew down in the girl’s sleep, finally making it to the girl’s room. The Moon peered down at the young girl, knowing that she could never fulfill her wish and bring her to the skies. Instead, the Moon bent down, her long white hair shimmering softly with stardust. Pressing light kisses to the girl’s face, she watched as the stardust from her hair came to comfort the girl, sensing her pain at the chains that bound her to the world and from her freedom. The stars seeped into the girl’s skin, one by one leaving the Moon’s hair. The Moon smiled, hoping that perhaps now the girl could finally rest soundly. She took to the sky, bidding the girl a quiet “farewell”, reaching out to the stars to guide her back.”
I open my eyes, a smile resting on my face. “I like that story, grandma’am.”
“Hush child. There’s a little more.” Without waiting for my response, she concludes the story. “Today, the Moon is no longer able to shed light of her own without the help of her stardust, instead, the Sun leds her his light and the angels upon the Earth bless the world with their own.”
“Am I an angel then?” The question falls from my mouth.
My grandma’am’s scolding tone disappeared from her voice. “Yes, dear. You’re my angel.” And with that, she left my room, with only a quiet “farewell” to comfort me in my dreams.

I sat on my bed, ignoring the dust rising above the sheets. I opened the drawer and found the book, still resting where it had since the day my grandma’am had read the story. I had never read the story on my own; instead, I’d chosen to have my grandma’am tell it to me every year.
Its soft navy cover was sprinkled with stars, just like the girl. I flipped open the cover, fingers skimming the soft leather, only to find blank pages.
My eyes widened at the lack of ink. The pages were pristine, not a speck of dust nor words to be found. It wasn’t until I had reached the end did I find anything other than blank parchment.
Loose pages fell out of the book. I startled, dropping the book on my bed and scrambling to retrieve them. Picking one up, a phrase caught my eye.

Love, mom.

Instantly, the other pages were left forgotten. I turned my attention to the paper I held in my hands, filled to the brim with words and the stark opposite of the book I had found it in.

To Sylvie.

I’ve always known that someday, you might want to fly away. To be free. To leave behind the memories you’ve made in this world and find your own place.
Every year, on your birthday, you travel to grandma’am’s lake house. I have never accompanied you there. Maybe you feared I didn’t love you. That’s why I called you that day. To tell you I did.
By the time you see this, you might already know. Your father is ill, and it is fatal. I know you will understand; you always do. No matter what. You are an angel, blessing this earth with the light you bring to it.
I hope grandma’am has told you the story of the girl who wanted nothing more than to leave behind her home and fly away to the stars. I hope you know that that girl is you. She is a soul who cannot embrace the unbreakable bonds found within corridors of silence, cannot walk the aisles of freedom, and instead, sets it upon others. She is a soul who is weighted by the ephemeral notion of the things she could’ve had, who basks in the numbness of absolutely nothing.
I do not want this raw, painful life for you. I have only wanted you to be happy, my angel.
And so I’ll give this to you now. A reminder that, no matter what, there is something to live for. Maybe you won’t understand this now. Maybe you will. But no matter what, know that I love you.

Love, mom.

fairytale writing
3451 words … last updated 07.10.2025

Learning about fairytales.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

PART ONE

In the first part of this weekly, we'll be comparing our beloved fairy tales and how they change as they go across different cultures. Go to this project about them to learn more. Make sure to write 200 words, and have fun! We can't wait to see what you come up with.

From this project, I have learned that fairytales can be similar, yet are all different in their own unique ways. For example, a lot of these stories have something to do with loyalty and proving oneself. Some of these also reminded me of fairytales I heard of when I was younger. For example, Petrosniella is very much like Rapunzel. (After doing some quick research, I found out that Petrosniella is indeed the original version of the well-known Rapunzel, y'all I think I'm a bit slow ㅠ.ㅠ)

I've noticed that a lot of the stories also involve a person/people attempting to ruin someone's life. In Rumpelstiltskin, Rumpelstiltskin tries to take the queen's firstborn son. In Wonderful Youth, the two older daughters try to ruin their sister's marriage. Many of the stories also include reccurring themes such as determination, love, and temptation. Typically the ones that include temptation are the more “applicable” ones, in the sense that it may happen in a more realistic way in our lives.

In the story Petrosniella and Fountain of Youth, both have temptation included in it. Pascadozia steals vegetables from the neighbor, and must give up her child because of that. The old lady in the Fountain of Youth drank too much from the fountain because of how delicious it was, and ended up becoming a child in return. Both stories show that actions have consequences, and even nice things can lead to something bad.

245 words

»»————-　⚜　————-««

PART TWO

For the second part of this weekly, you'll be writing about an object from a fairy tale. This can be anything from a battle-worn sword to a rusty notebook, let your imagination run free! You'll need at least 200 words to complete this part.

The basket swung in Little Red Riding Hood's hands, carrying many items on it. It had things, from food to a new book for Grandma. It was a gift her mom wanted to send to her during Little Red's visit. It was a basket used many times before, a strong and sturdy item to carry the weight of previous gifts. Some straw hairs were already sticking out, but it was still lasting.

It was made with precision of a craftsman, using the finest straw in the village. Despite how meticulously it was made, it sold for a cheap price. It's now being used on casual events, being treated with such low respect. As if its value wasn't realized by its owners. As much as the other baskets would've cared, this one didn't mind. It didn't care about its price. It was a hardworking basket, a very diligent one at that. Little Red should be happy with the good job the basket is doing.

It had also been on many adventures with her. One time, it rained, so Little Red had to cover her head with the straw basket. It served its duty and protected her from the weather, despite getting itself soaked. It was meant to serve, and never fought against its job. After all, it would rather work than be thrown away, forgotten and useless. Another time it had to serve its master was when she wanted to have a picnic in the forest. It carried the apples, cake, blankets, and most importantly, the dolls. As the dolls and Little Red ate, ants crawled into the basket, tickling it. It wanted to move, squirm, and laugh. But it couldn't, because it was simply a basket.

Once the basket and Little Red reached Grandma's house, it was placed down on the dining table. It could see, or sense, everything that was going on. It saw how suspicious Grandma was being. It wanted to tell Little Red, but couldn't, because of its inability to move. Eventually, Little Red caught on, but completely forgot about the basket, so she ended up leaving it there. The basket started to grow sad and hopeless, now it had no more use. Or so it thought.

Eventually Little Red came back with her real grandma, and they both enjoyed the treats the basket carried all the way. The basket was in the center of the table, enjoying itself while being surrounded with love and food. What a silly adventure the basket had today, who knows what will happen next?

423 words

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PART THREE

Think back to something in a fairy tale that you’d change if given a chance. Maybe you’d alter the ending, setting, genre, genders, characters, or time period–for this part of the weekly, you can add any sort of twist to your retelling! Put a novel spin on a classic fairy tale, writing at least 400 for this part of the weekly.

Belle was the person every student wanted to be — kind, smart, and most importantly, she was drop-dead gorgeous. Her beauty caught the attention of Gaston, the athletic kid who stole every girl's heart. He was constantly chasing after Belle, and wanted to be with her. In his eyes, she was perfect. She had beautiful eyes, luscious locks, and could help him out with math homework. However, Gaston wasn't someone Belle was looking for. She didn't see him the way the other girls saw him as, and instead continued on in her life without him.

One day, during class, the teacher assigned partners who would work together for a project. Everyone thought and hoped that Gaston and Belle would be together. But no, the teacher decided otherwise. In the back, sat a lonely kid, ignored by others. He had been given the nickname “Beast” by others, because of a story Gaston started about him. Gaston said that he always wore a hoodie to cover how hairy he is. Why is he so hairy? Because he turns into a beast at night. Ever since then, everyone ignored and made fun of him.

Some students giggled, others snickered and felt bad for Belle. Even though she wasn't aware of the story, she was still nervous. She had heard from others to avoid him, but figured that it was just for one project. She will be fine, she hoped.

They decided, or rather, he made them work on the project in his dorm. When they arrived, Belle found it quite fancy with expensive silverware, nice lighting, and it was well-cleaned. They started to work on the project, and Belle realized that he wasn't so bad. In fact, he was very nice and charming, and took good care of Belle.

Over the course of the project, their bond deepens, and Belle realizes that she might be falling in love. However, soon the project comes to an end before they could confess their feelings. Gaston takes the chance, and asks her out. To his surprise, she politely denies the confession. She explains that doesn't like him back, and instead already likes someone else. Enraged, Gaston goes off to find this person whom she likes.

Eventually, he figures out that she's in love with the Beast. So he starts a new and meaner rumor about him, and has people bully him. The Beast hides away in his dorm, refusing to come out. Belle is terrified at what is happening to her crush, so she goes to console him.

While calming him down and sympathizing with him, she confesses her love for him in an attempt to boost his confidence. The Beast smiles warmly back at her, and says that he loves her too. Soon, he tells her that he's been thinking that he should stop wearing the hoodie. Not because of the rumors about him being hairy, but because he simply wants to have a change in style and be more confident in himself. With a large grin, Belle helps him out. Soon, his new fit is ready, and it turns out he's been really good-looking.

The next day at school, to Gaston's dismay, Belle and the Beast are marching down the hallway, holding hands. The girls start to come over to the Beast, and are jealous of Belle. Gaston is left alone in front of his locker, bitterly confused at what just happened. The Beast and Belle spend the rest of their school days happy together, and their love continues to prosper even after that. The end.

591 words

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PART FOUR

We hope you've been having fun exploring various elements of fairy tales so far, because it's time to put everything together! For the final part of this weekly, you'll be creating your own fairy tales! Write 500 words of a fairy tale of your own creation using what you've learnt in the previous parts - the possibilities are endless! We can't wait to see what you'll create!

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a girl born under the whispering moon. However, as she grew, she couldn't whisper like how it did. Instead, she was rowdy and loud. Eventually, her parents had to hide her away from the world, afraid of what would happen if she spoke too honestly to the wrong people.

You see, Calla is from a time where the kingdom was under oppression from a great and evil king. He had harsh laws, and talking out of turn led to a harsh punishment. Neighbors couldn't trust each other, and if you misspoke, you could end up in great trouble. Not only that, but the king had taken many things from the citizens, but rewarded soldiers and guards greatly to keep them in check. Everyone was too afraid to protest, and to fight back, because the were afraid of the consequences.

Despite all of her parent's attempts to hide Calla from the world, it was simply impossible. After overhearing conversations from her parents about the tyrant punishing more and more people, she decided that it's time for her to make a change. During the night, Calla sneaks out, with the moon lighting her path. It watches over her, shining its light on guards to sneak past and pointing to the direction she should follow.

Eventually, the light leads her through a forest, and reveals a small cottage. It looks empty, withering away, as if no one has been in it for years. But the moon tells Calla to trust in its guidance, and after taking a deep breath, she does. Rapping lightly on the door, it creaks open, revealing a dark home. It's not lit, so Calla grabs a lantern that just so happened to be conveniently placed at the foot of the door. The moon and stars generously provide some of their light, which is trapped in the lantern to light her way.

Walking in, the door shuts behind her. The passages are long and lead to rooms with peculiar decoration and design. Eventually, Calla walked into a room. This time, however, it's well-lit. It seems to be some sort of kitchen, with an oven and a kettle sitting on the stove. By the window, is an old lady sitting on a rocking chair, seemingly preoccupied by her knitting. Despite not looking, the lady seems to notice her. “Hello there.” She spoke, her voice raspy. “Hi,” came the response. Calla's guard was still up, and was prepared just in case she was to be attacked.

“Don't worry, it's alright.” The old woman coaxed. “Sit down, I'll bring us some tea. I was expecting you.” She continued, pointing over to a small table with two chairs as she got up to bring over the kettle. Calla slowly made her way to the table, and sat down. The woman followed promptly, bringing two teacups with steam coming out from the tea.

After taking a sip from the tea, the lady started to speak. “Hello, my name is Ruth,” Ruth said softly, “but once, long ago, they called me the Keeper of the Moon.” She added with a soft chuckle. Noticing Calla's confused, she quickly clarified. ”It was just a joke. But I am an important person, although I was lost alongside with the kingdom.“ She said with a longing sigh. ”But the kingdom is still here?“ Calla cocked her head in confusion, hoping for some clarification.

”You see, Calla-“ She started before being interrupted, Calla asking how she knew her name. To which she just responded with a mysterious smile. ”The kingdom was once prosperous and well-loved. People flocked from all over to be part of it. It was a magical place, blessed by the moon. The rulers cared for the people, and everyone could trust each other.“ She said, with a huge smile on her face. ”But then, a cruel peasant came along the way. Using dark magic from the Ancient People, he rose to power. Destroyed everyone in his path.“ Ruth finished with a dark look on her face.

”Calla. The reason I know your name is because the moon told me. Only a the chosen people are gifted by it to have powers. Your duty is to unlock your powers and defeat the tyrant to restore peace to the kingdom.“ Ruth explained seriously, and Calla nodded. ”I will do my best.“ She solemnly promised, to which Ruth replied, ”I know you will. Now here, something you must have before you leave.“ She handed over a pendant, filled of the moon's light to the brim that was rope. ”Wear it around your wrist, and the people will believe.“ She instructed, and Calla tied it as a bracelet, and left the cottage.

As she arrived home, Calla made her parents aware of the situation. Surprisingly, they believed her, and decided it was time that someone did something. Her father handed her a sword, it was a family heirloom. It was used in many victorious battles, and was now entrusted in Calla's hands. Her mother gave her a blessing, and sent her along the way.

The moment the sun rose above the horizon, Calla left, riding on the back of a noble horse. She was off to rally the villagers, and fight for the kingdom's freedom. Even though the moon wasn't watching her, she was under its close friend, the sun. Unlike the calm, whisper of the moon, the sun was like a loud trumpet's shout. Signaling Calla's arrival to everyone who stood in her path.

Calla gathered everyone to the town square of her village, and there, she selected warriors who were skilled in fighting and strategy to come with her. Everyone believed, because she possessed the power of to moon on her wrist. The soldiers who were supposed to be loyal to the king, gladly accepted the invitation and joined her side. It turned out that the dictator had started taxing them long ago, and now the guards and palace workers were upset at him.

It was time to venture to the other villages, where she easily rounded up people and convinced them to join the rebel's side. Calla sent out people to rally the other towns, and agreed to meet back up by the city walls. Together, with the power of (God and anime /ref /ifykyk) the moon and the citizens on her side, it seemed like that the rebellion was unstoppable.

All they needed to do was round up the villagers, convince them to join their side, and storm the capital.

At least that was how it was supposed to go.

But as they were about to flood the city gates, the king appeared. Alone. Just him on his horse. It was a strange sight, hundreds—no, thousands of citizens outside of the capital walls, and just one person against them. No guards, no soldiers, no one.

”I've been expecting you.“ He said with a smirk, to which Calla frowned. ”What's going on?“ She spat angrily, yet confused at the same time, to which his grin grew wider.

”My minions, ATTACK THEM!“ And just like that, thousands of not people, but monsters attacked the rebels. ”What the Ancient People didn't pass down is that they also sealed away monsters, just because they didn't like them.“ He said, and disappeared into the crowd of roaring monsters. Calla stood there, frozen, as her warriors got attacked. What? Ruth didn't tell her that. Surely that wasn't the truth. The Ancient People were the good guys, they protected the kingdom from threats.

”Is this true?“ Came a voice, others' rose as well, questioning what was going on. ”Everyone, retreat! We need to figure this out. “ She commanded everyone, and they fled to the camps. Calla had to figure this out quick. What was going on? What did that tyrant mean by monsters being sealed away? She decided that she would think about it later, for now they had to care for the hurt.

Calla paced around in the tent. His words couldn't be true, and yet it stuck to her. She ran outside, into the open field, away from the tents. Letting out a cry, she fell to her knees, tears rolling down her face. ”Why? What? I don't…What's going on?“ She mumbled to herself. Her words were being distorted by the crying, and yet you could still understand her confusion.

”Shhh. Don't worry little one…“ A mysterious voice came along. Calla's head shot up. ”W-who, are you?“ She whimpered, trying to calm herself down. ”You know who I am, I've been with you all this time…“ It mysteriously responded, opening its palm, to help Calla up. ”Are you… the Moon?“ To which the Moon nodded at. ”I am merely just a human representation. Just the shadow. But yes, I do represent the Moon.“ Calla wanted to ask it so many questions, but it gave her a look as if it already knew.

”Listen. I know it's a confusing time, but the Ancient People lied to protect you. The monsters are powerful, and they didn't want them to be controlled by a tyrant.“ It explained. ”But it seems like it had.“ It softly said, barely audible. ”What that dictator said is false. Don't believe him, they didn't seal them without a reason. The monsters used to co-exist with us, but were then put under a spell to make them evil and against us humans.“ It continued to firmly say. Calla nodded, understanding her task.

And just like that, the Moon was gone. But Calla knew what was the next step.

As soon as morning came, she announced to everyone the truth. What had happened last night. Although some were skeptical, they trusted and followed her nonetheless. She discussed with the other appointed rebellion leaders what was going to happen. And, after some preparation, they were ready. Ready to face the monsters and the king again.

The army stood in front of the city gates once again, preparing for the wave of monsters to come.

Sure enough, they made it out, on time.

As the rebels fought back, Calla commanded her horse. She weaved in between the monsters, dodging their attacks. She had somewhere to go to: The Tower. It was a tall tower, where announcements were made. She had one to make.

At the foot of the tower, she got off her trusty steed, and it ran off to safety. A mob of monsters already started to notice her. But she didn't care. Ignoring them, she started climbing the tower. The staircase spiraled up to the top. It was a long flight, and a tiring one at that. The monsters were fast, but she was faster.

Eventually making it to the top, she grabbed the microphone. Breathing heavily, she began to speak. ”To everyone of the kingdom, I, Calla, have an announcement to make.“ She began, the monsters almost reaching the top. ”What you had been told by the king was a lie. The Ancient People sealed the monsters to protect us. To protect the monsters from dying because of this curse. To protect us all-“ Her speech was cut short from being hit by a monster, to which she fought back.

Someone else had taken the microphone. Looks like she wasn't the only one who climbed up the stairs. ”But it doesn't have to be like that. Humans and monsters don't have to live separately anymore.“ A rebel continued, giving Calla a grin, and started to attack the overpowering monsters. Other rebels came to help take care of the monsters, so Calla continued the announcement. ”We can all live together, as one, in peace and harmony." She finished. And just like that, the curse was lifted.

The monsters stopped fighting, and so did the humans. The monsters looked around at each other, confused. Then their memories flooded back to them. But now they were good, not under the curse. The Ancient People never tried to make peace with them — that was their mistake, fighting wasn't the answer to this.

It also happened to be that the king treated them horribly as well. The monsters and humans teamed up together to take down the king, with Calla leading them.

As she arrived at the throne room, Calla glared at the king, with the rebellion and monsters behind her. For the first time, the king was scared. He fell down to his knees, begging for mercy. However, instead of getting rid of him on the spot, Calla decided that he would spend eternity in the deepest dungeon. Alone, forever.

After all of that was over, the monsters were welcomed into society. Although it would take time to fully get used to them, some were more accepting than others, they had found their way back to society. Calla was the new crowned ruler, and the kingdom started to prospered again. She never forgot about the moon, and proudly wears the bracelet everyday. New problems show up in the kingdom every day, but it was always solved peacefully. Though Calla did make mistakes herself, she was helped by the people to fix her errors and set a better example. The end.

2,196 words

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Weekly 2 ⟢ 1683/1300 words ~ Fairy Tales

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1┆Comparing Fairy Tales From Different Cultures ⟢ 228/200 words

In Germany, Rumpelstiltskin is generally the same as the story I originally learnt, except for the ending. This is probably because I learnt this fairy tale from a kid’s collection of Brother’s Grimm and they were German. So it’s likely that the reason why in my version, Rumple got swallowed by the ground rather than splitting in two because it was a book for children and.. well, splitting in two is rather morbid. Petronisella starts different because the name is of Italian origin (whereas in my version Pascadozia is just referred to as a mother or wife) and it is not an ogress that lives next door, but an old woman, for me. Instead of parsley, it is lettuce. I think this may be so in the version I read because lettuce is more common than parsley?

In Tangled, from modern culture, the backstory is different, and the prince is portrayed a lot more pathetically. He isn’t even a prince. The original version has a mysterious, compelling plot line whereas the newer version has been altered to be a lighthearted rom-com. In the Fountain of Youth tale, there is an ordinary man walking through the woods, but in the Potterverse version, the man is a wizard. This shows how different versions of fairy tales have been adapted to fit more stereotypical, commonly found things in each culture’s society.

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2┆ Writing About An Object From A Fairy Tale ⟢ 256/200 words

It has been a common question as to why Cinderella’s glass slipper fell off if all her clothes fit her so well. I think this happened because there needed to be some actual plot, but there could be some other reasons. Who knows? The shoe might have been a size different if the fairy godmother was a scam and actually worked at Tesco or something. Cinderella could have drunk whatever Alice from Alice in Wonderland drunk and only shrunk a little bit so it wasn’t a noticeable amount. The shoe could’ve broken a little bit (though, they were glass) and fallen off, or- and this is probably most likely- Cinderella could have gotten blisters from wearing a GLASS slipper and just kicked it off.

And, how was Cindy the only person in the WHOLE village with her certain foot size? Was it like a 10 or something? There’s got to be some magic linked to it. When it fell off down the stairs, how did it not shatter? How did Cinderella keep escaping the palace? Limping? On the stairs? At full speed? And finally, how did the slipper not turn back, unlike the other things that have been magicked up? See, this proves my theory. Perhaps the godmother was not a fairy but a middle-class woman who found a party costume under the stairs in a random shopping mall. Perhaps it was plastic, not glass, and that’s why the shoe didn’t shatter or evaporate and that’s why they were light enough for Cinderella to run in!

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3┆ Putting A Spin On A Fairy Tale ⟢ 594/400 words

Once upon a time just like this, in a palace far, far, away, a princess had just been born. The King and the Queen were so happy to greet their new child into the world, so invited lots of magical pigs to come and grant her blessings.

The Three Little Pigs came happily. One granted her a strong and steady mind. One granted her beauty, and one granted her the ability to never get any splinters. Then, Mum Pig ran up to the castle, fuming. Everyone always forgets about her. Before the last pig could grant the blessing of not being able to get splinters, she SHOVED him out of the way and said: ‘You will get splinters!’ there was a silence as the crowd took a worries step back.

The pig, still on the ground, mumbled, ‘Wasn’t that what's going to happen anyway…?'
Mum Pig glared at him and snapped. ‘Good Point. You will get pricked by something sharp!’ The pig stood up and folded his arms. ‘See, that’s why you're not invited to these things.' He groaned, forgetting to add that Mum Pig should be making something *good* happen to the new born. Mum Pig pulled up ChatGPT on her phone, mumbling ‘Hang on.’ After a bit of ferocious typing, Mum Pig declared, ‘You will get pricked by a spinning wheel on your sixteenth birthday and fall asleep forever, only to be waken by a true love’s kiss.' The crowd shuddered and The King shoved Mum Pig away.

'Hey, that's rather poetic.' remarked a standby pig. ‘What’s that app you just used again?'
By then, Mum Pig had already left the picture. The King burst into tears and the Queen looked up from her Instagram for once. She had been writing a diss post for Mum Pig. ‘What should we do now?’ The Queen cradled her daughter protectively. ‘Is it time for the karaoke?’ The King shook his head vigorously. ‘We need to order all of the spinning wheels out of the kingdom.’ The Queen nodded seriously, all business like. ‘But who uses them anyway?’

Fifteen years passed quickly, and the King and Queen began to enjoy the wonders of parenting. They watched the princess enter her coquette era, change up to her emo phase (that was not JUST A PHASE, mum!) and take up lots and lots of interesting hobbies. When the morning of the sixteenth birthday came, the princess slept in. The King and Queen, nervous, sent the Royal Band outside her room to play a royal rendition of Happy Birthday, that eventually dragged the princess out of her room, clutching her ears.

The birthday festivities came and went and it was nearing midnight when the princess started her usual wanders around the castle, free of her parent's eye. She had lived here all her life, and still hadn't explored half of it. In all honesty, she was sort of hoping that a kissable frog would jump out of nowhere, but that would be too much like a fairy tale. She found a door leading to some stairs that she had never seen before. ‘Ugh, why are there so many steps?’ she groaned, but her curiosity got the better of her. When she finally reached the top, there was a small room with a spinning wheel in the middle. ‘Dinky!’ she smiled. The princess approached the spinning wheel. ‘Ew, what is that?’ she spat, disgusted. Somewhere in the courtyard, the clock struck midnight.

And with that, she turned around and went to the kitchen to grab some late night snacks.

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4┆ Creating Your Own Fairy Tale ⟢ 605/500 words

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, a young woman called Fern was walking towards the bakery, eager to open it up and start yet another day making pastries. Her shoes clacked on the cobblestones in the early morning, and as she reached the front door of the bakery, she noticed a bright poster stuck on to the pastel pink of the door. It read: ‘Enter the Royal Baking Competition for a chance to win 1,000,000 gold coins!’ Fern's eyes popped out of her head. Never before had she seen so many digits! She scanned quickly through the rest of the details and paused at the door handle. The bakery could wait. Racing back home, Fern prepared the best batch of brownies she had ever made. They were chocolatey, gooey and delicious, resulting in the least amount of crumbs possible!

Fern tilted her head and examined the finished tray of brownies, thinking. How could she make these better? With a grin, Fern suddenly came up with an idea. Magic! She could use magic! The Kingdom's first Everlasting Brownies would cause quite a stir and pull her out of poorness. Fern gently placed the box in her satchel and prepared for her journey to the witch's cottage in the middle of the forest. When she finally stumbled upon the clearing later that day, Fern looked around in confusion. There, instead of the witch's cottage was a tall, tall tower. Fern rapped on the door warily, jumping a little when it abruptly opened. She leaned in a little, but could see no one. ‘Who goes there?’ a raspy voice croaked.

'It's me. Fern. Remember?' Fern replied, voice quaking a little as she stepped inside.
'No, I do not. If you're looking for the witch of the woods, she's moved upstream.' A beautiful face came to view as the door suddenly slammed close behind Fern. Fern turned back to the pretty witch, thanking her for the information. ‘Uhh. I’m just going to go now, if that's alright with you.' The witch shook her head and grasped Fern's wrist a little tighter than she would have liked. ‘No, come upstairs for tea. You must be tired after all that walking.’

Fern was tired, so she eagerly climbed the steps after the witch, though this just made her even MORE tired. By the time they reached the top of the tower, Fern's calves were aching. The witch seemed fine. ‘Do you mind getting the plates for me? They’re right… THERE!' The witch suddenly shoved Fern, hard, and she fell down the gap in the middle of the stairs, tumbling and spinning and screaming, until she landed with a FLOP on some moss in a dungeon cell. Fern looked around. All the other cells were empty and there was nothing else in the cell except for a dingy window and a fire roaring in the corner. She was trapped.

The days came and went and eventually, Fern's supply of brownies was gone. Peeking out of the tiny dungeon window, Fern saw a horse trotting up to the clearing. She pounded on the window until it broke and stuck her head up, desperate. ‘HELP! HELP ME PLEASE!’ A pair of boots came her way, and eventually an insanely handsome prince crouched into view. ‘I.. Uh…’ Fern mumbled, but the prince only smiled grimly. ‘Tell me what I need to do to get you out.’

And with that, the prince pushed the witch down the tunnel and trapped her in an opposing cell. He helped Fern out of her cell and they rode off into the sunset, happily ever after.

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2500 points

critique/daily - july 10
498 words … last updated 07.09.2025

writing critiques for this piece of writing by @Miss-Mash_Mash

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Hi Missy! I loved how descriptive your story was, and it was so much fun to read! I hope these critiques were what you were looking for, and helped you grow in your writing journey! <3

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Leaving their rotten daughter, Traciana, to rule. As queen, she removed the forest, leaving a dull and empty plane. It breaks the villager’s hearts to see. As well as killing the beloved forest, the new queen had raised taxes and living prices. It made it very hard to survive.

I would write why she ended up like this, and why her parents still loved her. She grew up with such gracious and kind parents, and yet still turned out rotten and evil? This leads readers curious on why she turned out like this. Perhaps she was spoiled, her parents were always away to help people, or she was influenced by someone? Just something quick to explain how she became who she is.

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Trying to escape the new Queen and her laws that had ruined the kingdom. In the middle of the village, there was a small group of people.

Not sure if this counts as grammar/not plot-related, but this could be transitioned better. Maybe saying something in between like, “Even though they were unhappy, some still wanted to stay. So in the middle of the village…” Just a sentence to help point out the similarities between the two actions the villagers were taking.

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Another 10 years pass and the old Queen is found pacing constantly in a hidden location. The rebellion happened 6 years ago.

Here pretty much everything else is third person omniscient. However, it quickly shifts to third person perspective, then beck to third person omniscient. I would recommend sticking to the same perspective, or find a way to smoothly transition the changes.

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Another 10 years pass and the old Queen is found pacing constantly in a hidden location.

I suggest adding on to why she was pacing so much. Typically people pace when they're deep in thought, so what was she worrying about? Maybe this could be a reason why she's so controlling, because she's paranoid? After all, it had been 6 years since the rebellion, so there was pretty much nothing to worry about.

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The only reason he had saved Traciana was because he was close friends with her parents, Myers and Kaytier.

While this could lead to a valid reason, it itself alone wouldn't be a good one, because it never explicitly stated that the guard promised to protect their daughter. It would be better to use a different reason, or at least have the reason lead to a reason where he is forced to hide her away (e.g. made a promise, her parents talked to him in a dream, he was promised money.) I would also suggest adding a small part where the guard is conflicted, trying to figure out what to do next. Stay and protect the queen, or leave and find a new, peaceful life? This part is completely up to you, but would add more depth to the character.

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So he left and joined the kingdom. Leaving the old Queen to rot away in her hidden location. Too afraid to ever come out.

There are still some loose ends that should be answered, and the ending seems abrupt. Maybe you could briefly write what happened in the kingdom, or if the guard had to earn the forgiveness of the citizens? Maybe write a cliffhanger saying a new queen rose to power that would lead to a sequel of the story?

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Overall, I really enjoyed your story. It was so much fun to read, and the concept was not complex yet still amazing. However, something I suggest is tying up loose ends. They may be small, but important to the story. By doing these small things, they make the reader feel accomplished after finishing the story, and have their questions answered. Keep up the great work! <3

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498 words

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i. “my eyes open quicker than a swan could land in water…”

⋆˚✿ critique two
"novel excerpt" by ruby . sci-fi . 787

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hiya ruby !! i just want to start by saying,, thank you so much for letting me critique this !! (don't mind me using my aes typing style xD) overall,, like you mentioned, the piece is definitely a bit rushed. no matter the mental state of the character,, it's still good to try and slow down the pace a little, which'll make it more appealing to the readers. it will allow previous information to soak in and then be processed so that you can understand the next !! it'll also bring more description to your pieces and really bring your characters to life !!

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Chapter 13
We soon came to a stop, after what felt like days of walking. Because of the vast amounts of turns and doors in this * place, I might not make it back to the surface at all.

in this beginning part of this chapter,, i can't rly say much about not having too much background to understand the first part (since this is only an excerpt), but in order to give the reader a more vivid experience and allow them to really dive into your world,, try to add more descriptive factors !! you don't need to go crazy- even just “the vast amounts of turns and doors in this… place” is a pretty good descriptor !! but definitely try to talk about what this place looked like more,, even just basic details like the color of things around you, how tight/narrow the space is, ect. !! it'll enhance the writing !!

i also just want to say that there is a tense change !!

We soon came to a stop, after what felt like days of walking.

versus

Because of the vast amounts of turns and doors in this * place, I might not make it back to the surface at all.

in the first example/sentence,, “came” implies past tense, but reading through the next sentence and the rest of the excerpt, it seems to be in present !!

But as soon as I saw that bed, well maybe it was worth it. I swear the second Aspen said goodnight to us, and that door was closed, Coal and I were about to black out faster than-

again,, having more description about the room and the bed would be great !! there should also be a comma after “I swear” instead of after “goodnight to us” !! i like the way you cut off the final sentence,, it definitely adds to the factor of the present tense and getting to feel the emotions of the narrator !! speaking of which,, try to bring your narrator/main character to life by giving them inner thoughts and feelings !! for example, try describing the narrator when they see the bed !! a sudden ache ? tiredness ?

•┈๑⋅⋯ ꒰ ꒱ ⋯⋅๑┈•

okay- first of all,, a shout-out to the cute header you picked- I LOVE IT !! :aHeM-:

I lift my eyelids off my eyes, my father is waiting there, a disapproving scowl upon his face.

the repetition of ‘eyes’ (used both in ‘eyelids’ and ‘eyes’) does feel a bit monotonous !! try phrasing this in a different way to make it feel lighter. an example could be,, “I blink open my eyes, darkness fading into the corners of my vision and making way for the beings in front of me.” a sentence like this also adds more description !!

My mother next to him, her face contorted with horror.

this sentence (the first part) doesn't have a verb !! “my mother… next to him,” doesn't have one,, so add one in !! sat,, stood, lay, ect. !! T

They couldn’t look at me this way, the only person they might be mad at is. No.

try replacing the period with a hyphen or a dash to give a more frantic or panicked tone to the sentence !! it'll also flow better and make more sense. i like your next sentences,, they definitely give a sort of suspenseful tone !!

‘I am your Indigo!’ I scream but they don’t hear, they turn away, going, going, gone. Gone. NO. ‘I’m not her!’ I scream with hatred, trying to run to them, but my feet are stapled into the grass, trying to scream but my voice is gone in an instant.

replace the single quotes/speaking quotes with quotation marks (since they're saying something rather than referring to something) !! then,, make those new paragraphs. also,, when people are angry, they tend to inflict their tone on certain words !! you can show this by italicizing certain words that would feel natural to have an emphasis on (i recommend speaking the words out loud to decide what words to italicize. and i LOVE LOVE LOVE the final sentence of that part !!

•┈๑⋅⋯ ꒰ ꒱ ⋯⋅๑┈•

My eyes open quicker than a swan could land in water, I frantically look around a room that is not my own, around a body that is not my own.

add a period after “could land in water” !! great metaphor btw !!

I feel myself hyperventilating, breathe Indigo!

in order to add a more realistic tone,, try ending the sentence after “hyperventilating”. then,, make a new paragraph and italicize “breathe, Indigo!” which represents their inner thoughts.

‘I can’t!’ I shout into the almost deafening silence, before I can realise where I am.

i love this transition !! this really outlines the conflict within ink. remember,, for all dialogue, use quotation marks !!

I sigh slightly, nightmares? Really? I'm not a child, Coal. But i don’t say that instead i remain calm, and reply to him as something that will seem plausible.

to fix “But i don’t say that instead i remain calm, and reply to him as something that will seem plausible” to be grammatically correct,, change it to :: “But I don't say that. Instead, I remain calm and reply to him with something that will seem plausible.” great choice of words !!

throughout the entire excerpt,, there are definitely points where commas should be added !! reading your work out loud will help you understand where pauses should go and will help the piece flow smoothly !!

•┈๑⋅⋯ ꒰ ꒱ ⋯⋅๑┈•

the rest of the piece is rly good !! it feels much more realistic and descriptive !! overall,, this excerpt is really good and it's definitely a fun read !! the main things to look out for are description,, understanding of tone and inflection, pacing, repetition, and comma placement !! your characters seem well developed and i can't wait to read what happens both before and after these sequences of events !!

thank you for letting me critique this and keep on writing <3

Critique for @Decora-lizeus (414 words)

Hi! First of all, I love the style of writing. It’s perfect for a fantasy style piece, and a really good mix between description and action. I especially like phrases like ‘hardly taller than 2 men’ and ‘she faced worse than a water cave guardian monster’ - they make the description seem vivid, whilst also giving a more unique voice and personality to your writing, which I really enjoyed.
I would consider having a proofread, as I spotted a couple of spelling or punctuation errors, which I’m sure are just mistakes. For example, the spelling of white, and there are a few missing commas such as after ‘as he rose above the lake’.
I love the worldbuilding and how the monster you have come up with. It feels very fitting with the fantasy genre, and especially the name Draak is something I can imagine being in a real fantasy book. In fact, all of your names are perfect for fantasy. I like how the tension builds, and there is a range of sentences, however I would consider changing the structure of some of them. There’s a lot of ‘she ’ which, whilst building tension and is good for action, may feel a bit clunky. Of course it is completely your choice to strike the balance between these elements, and works already, it just may flow better with some changes.
I love the tension at the end before her son arrives, however I wonder if after that it feels a little rushed? I would consider perhaps lingering a bit more on her emotions, and then maybe she is surprised when she hears the footsteps, or it feels like death is chasing her. I think you could also benefit from a small description of the son - is he small or knightly. I like how the action quickly unfolds, but to the reader I think it seems a bit rushed. It is good how quickly it happens in some respects, as that is how it is happening in the story, so if you like that then of course keep it. However it is such a big, pivotal moment in the story that maybe some description - of the stone flying or Draak falling. I really like the ending line though, it contrasts perfectly with the intense action of the rest of the story.
Overall I love this! Your style is really good, especially for fantasy, and I’d love to read more of it in the future!

Word War #3 ⟡ 317 words

Duration: 5 minutes
Against: Surf - Sci-Fi
Prompt: “Of course, they drank the moon. Again.”
Outcome: N/A

An extremely emo goth witch kid walked around in the dark of the forest. There was a werewolf howling somewhere nearby and it was TOTALLY ruining the vibe. Why couldn't the wolf just shut up? She put on her black sparkly headphones and started digging a hole just because she could. (Note: I'm not trying to be stereotypical or anything, I genuinely think that being emo or goth et cetera is super cool, I'm just trying to write as fast as I can and my brain isn't fully functioning) ANYWAY. She put on her black sparkly headphones and started listening to My Chemical Romance and started jumping up and down. The werewolf appeared out of no where and started growling at her. She was a bit scared but then decided to put on some awesome makeup to make her look scarier and the wolf ran away. She went back to digging a hole (for her potted plant, but she would say later that it was a grave because growing sunflowers didn't exactly match her aesthetic) and then it started raining. All the raining wiped the makeup off of her face and the wolf came back. UGH. WHY WAS THE WEREWOLF STILL HERE? The wolf growled at her and started chasing her- by now, she was definitely screaming. Just a little bit. So she ran to the top of the highest hill (Yes, let's pretend there were random hills in the forest) and drank the moon. Again. Then, the werewolf turned back to normal. Um.. It turned out that the werewolf was actually her twin sister. Her cottagecore twin sister. Her cottagecore, coquette twin sister. The familiar pink bow-ed head looked up and they glanced at each other awkwardly.

'Uh… hi' said the twin, looking a bit embarrassed. She was met with a belch as the girl burped after drinking the moon. ‘What does the moon taste like?’

Part 1

The story of The Three Little Pigs is a classic tale with various versions across cultures, and the differences highlight the values of each culture.

In the English version, the three pigs each build a house out of different materials—straw, sticks, and bricks. The wolf blows down the first two houses easily, but the third pig’s brick house withstands the wolf’s huffing and puffing. The pigs outsmart the wolf, and the story ends with the wolf being defeated. This version focuses on the importance of hard work, planning, and perseverance.

In contrast, the Spanish version of the story, known as Los Tres Cerditos, is much more focused on community and teamwork. Instead of the pigs building their houses alone, they work together to create a stronger house. While the wolf still tries to blow the house down, the pigs’ teamwork helps them escape unharmed. The emphasis here is on collaboration and the power of working together to overcome challenges.

Though both versions share similar elements, the English version emphasizes individual effort, while the Spanish version highlights the strength of teamwork in facing difficulties.

(200 words)

Part 2


Most people would’ve tossed the thing in the trash. It was a dusty, broken spinning wheel, tucked in the back of an old library basement that was being cleaned out. The sign on it read: Do Not Touch — Historic Artifact.

Of course, Wren touched it.

She didn’t mean to. She was just helping shelve books for volunteer hours, got curious, and ran her fingers along the spindle. Nothing happened — no magical flash, no dramatic collapse like in the fairy tales. Just a weird little tingle, like static electricity.

Then she started having the dreams.

Every night, Wren saw golden thread unraveling from the wheel, spinning into the air, forming glowing shapes — sometimes people, sometimes moments she didn’t recognize. It wasn’t scary, just… strange. And each morning, she’d wake up a little more tired, like the dreams had actually taken something from her.

She went back to the basement. The wheel buzzed softly under her hand.

That’s when she noticed: things in real life were changing. People started repeating conversations they’d already had. Her little brother celebrated his birthday twice. Her friend’s lost necklace reappeared, unbroken.

It was like time itself was spinning backward and forward… and Wren was the thread holding it all together.

She realized the wheel wasn’t cursed to put people to sleep — not anymore. It had evolved. It now spun moments — twisting time to repair what was broken, but at a cost. Every time she touched it, she gave up part of her own time. Minutes. Hours. Maybe more.

Wren could stop. Just leave the wheel, forget the magic.

But when she saw her teacher crying quietly in an empty classroom, whispering about a family she missed, Wren knew what she had to do.

She spun.

That night, her dream showed the teacher reunited with someone: hugging, laughing, alive.

Wren woke up with gray in her hair.

She didn’t regret it.

The spinning wheel from Sleeping Beauty once cursed a girl to eternal sleep. But now, in Wren’s hands, it gave people second chances. By borrowing time from someone willing to give it.

Because not all fairy tale objects are meant to break us. Some are meant to test how far we’ll go for others.

(468 words)

Part 3

Once upon a time — well, actually, about 237 years in the future — there was a girl named Rapunzel-9.

She wasn’t a princess. She was a clone, created on Space Station Delta by a scientist who said he was her “guardian” but really just wanted to keep her locked away. Not in a tower, but in a lonely satellite orbiting Earth. Her golden hair wasn’t magic — it was a neural interface, basically a giant glowing braid of wires that could control technology with her mind.

The scientist said she was “too valuable” to be around normal people. He said Earth wasn’t safe. That she should stay up there and “keep quiet.” And for a while, she believed him. After all, the stars were beautiful, and she had everything she needed… except freedom.

One day, while scanning frequencies (aka eavesdropping on Earth radio), Rapunzel-9 picked up a weird signal — not static, but music. Actual music. The lyrics were glitchy, but they said something like: “You’re not alone.”

She traced the signal back to a teenage pilot named Phoenix, who was part of a rebel space crew trying to shut down the scientist’s secret experiments. Phoenix thought Rapunzel was a myth — just some space legend.

They talked every night after that, bouncing messages between satellites. Rapunzel taught Phoenix how to override the station’s defense systems. Phoenix taught Rapunzel what Earth clouds looked like up close. They laughed. They planned. They dreamed.

When Phoenix finally blasted off in her ship (a clunky little thing named Starbug), Rapunzel-9 didn’t wait to be rescued. She unplugged herself — literally — from the system, shutting down the satellite’s core to make it drift out of orbit.

She wasn’t the girl in the tower anymore. She was the one leaving it.

Phoenix caught her in low orbit, just before re-entry. They crash-landed somewhere in what used to be South America. Rapunzel’s feet touched real ground for the first time. It felt strange, heavy, and perfect.

The scientist was arrested. The satellites were shut down. And Rapunzel got to live among people for the first time — not as an experiment, but as herself.

No prince. No tower. No fairies.

Just a girl with a glowing braid, a best friend with a spaceship, and the entire sky finally open to her.

(459 words)

Part 4

to be done

◆◇◆◇◆ BUTTERFLY WINGS ◆◇◆◇◆

We were working on our papers, writing down equations and solving them, seeing if the numbers lined up. You were calm about it, writing, pursing your lips, then erasing. On the other hand, I had gotten much more frustrated whenever an equation failed.

“What is this?!” I stood up, slamming my hands on our shared desk. You shot your head up, giving me a raised eyebrow, though a semblance of an amused smile perked up on your lips. I ran my hands through my hair in frustration, “It’s a rocket! Just put stuff in it and make it go!”

“Settle down,” You laughed, bright and airy. This was one of the many outbursts I had during that work session, “You’ll figure it out eventually, you always do.”

I sat myself back down and sighed, leaning back in my chair. I stared back down at my equations, suddenly the numbers made sense.

“Oh…that was supposed to be to the power of 2 not 3…”

You giggled, it was as sweet as everything else about you. I was such a lucky guy to have managed to be able to date you. “See! There you have it!” You smiled, though a mischievous grin began to make its way on your face. “What did I say?”

I rolled my eyes, no real malice behind the action. “Yeah, yeah you were right, laugh it up.”

You leaned forward and patted my head, a loud yelp coming from me. I looked back at you, you and your smug grin. Though, I had to admit my lips twitched upwards.

“Hey! What am I?! Twelve?”
“Pretty much…Sure, you have the intelligence to be a scientist, but the maturity?…I’ll have to think about that one.”

I scoffed, pouting like a toddler before I realized that just proved your point. You laughed out loud at my expression, slapping me on the thigh. I acted annoyed, but I wasn’t.

“I have no idea what I’m doing from here…” I put a hand to my forehead, tapping my pencil on the paper. “At this point, I should just make a time machine to go to the 1950s and give them all of our current notes about rockets, then rockets would be more developed by now and I would have a different thing to do right now. I probably know enough about theoretical physics to pull it off.”

You paused from writing your equations, shooting me a stern look. “You know why we can’t do that.” She started, about to wind into a lecture I heard the previous times I mentioned making a time machine. “You know, the flapping of a butterfly’s—”
“Yeah, yeah, the flapping of a butterfly’s wings can cause a tornado somewhere distant, I’ve heard it before.” I grumbled, “I won’t build a time machine then.”

You smirked in triumph, returning to your notes.

If only those days could last forever.

—

I had gotten sick, a fever of 102. You figured it was probably due to bacteria since I had done more hands-on work last time we went to the lab.

“Sonya!” I cried like a little kid (you were probably right in your observation that I had the mental maturity of a child.) “I can go to work today!”
“Well—you can I suppose, the question is more so if you should…”

I sighed in defeat, knowing that this was another argument I wasn’t going to win (you almost always won all of our arguments.) I laid down in bed, already dozing off. A cup of hibiscus tea laid on my bedside table, alongside a thermoflask of chicken soup. I smiled, I didn’t deserve someone like you in my life.

“I’ll see you after work!” You called out with the voice of an angel, I heard the clicking of a door and knew you had left. I fell asleep quickly.


When I woke up, my world had shattered.

There had been a fire at the lab. A different department was creating a synthetic material that had a similar texture to fabric, but was fireproof, waterproof, and strong enough to carry the weight of a human. They had tested it, just it wasn’t fireproof like they expected it to be.

I didn’t cry that day. I knew I was supposed to, but I couldn’t. I felt numb, disconnected from the world. It was like nothing mattered anymore. You died the most painful death a human could experience, and I didn’t, because I had stayed home that day. It wasn’t fair that you were gone now.

The world knew I didn’t deserve you, so they took you away from me.

I wrote more equations, but they weren’t for a rocket.
I did a lot of research on theoretical physics.

—

It had taken me months, but I did it. After hundreds of pages of messily-drawn diagrams and equations and hours of construction, I had done it. In front of me, was something I could use to bring you back from the dead.

I had created a time machine. It wasn’t one in the traditional sense, but it got the job done. It sent me to the past, and that was all that was needed.

”The flapping of a butterfly’s wings could cause a tornado somewhere distant.”

I didn’t care about any consequences of the butterfly effect, I wanted you back. Maybe I should’ve cared. It was wrong to not act on the will of a deceased woman. But that deceased woman was you, and I wanted you back.

The device had 3 charges, meaning it could time travel thrice before I would have to replace the power source. It was a handheld device, it would transport the nearest living person to the selected time.

I pressed a button and went to the day that you left me.

—

I arrived at the same place I was in the present, only in the past. I got my power source from an abandoned factory, which was where I was now.

I checked my watch, it was 12:10
20 minutes until the fire would break out.

I just needed to convince the department not to light the fabric on fire, that was all that was needed to prevent your death. Even if I couldn’t convince them not to test it, I still should be able to convince them to test it in safer environments. They weren’t wrong for testing it, that was a part of science after all, they were wrong for being reckless.

I sprinted to the lab, getting there quicker than I expected, just shy of 8 minutes.

12:18.

The only issue was that I had never memorized the layout. I only knew how to get from the entrance to where I worked. I didn’t know where the department working on the synthetic material was.

I showed my ID to the receptionist, who clearly didn’t care much about what I showed her as long as it looked like identification. She almost never actually checked to see if they were real. As long as you had one, you got entry. If she actually looked, she would’ve seen that the renewal date on my ID was months in the future.

I entered the elevator, pressing the button to send me to the second floor. I could check the floors one at a time, and make my way up. There were 4 floors, including the reception floor. I checked my phone.

12:20.

Ten minutes.

I mindlessly walked through the floor. I had walked in circles, most definitely not using the most viable route. I clearly hadn’t thought ahead of time about that. That was going to cost you your life.

12:23.

I lifted my head up, I still hadn’t checked the entire floor. I stared at the door in front of me. It was my department, the one who worked on all the calculations rather than the engineering.

Behind this door, you would be there.
Slowly, I stepped forward.

Surely, it couldn’t hurt to see you, just once?

Logic had ran away from me, I wasn’t a logical person. I was book smart, that didn’t mean I had common sense. The logical part of my mind told me that this was a terrible idea, that I needed to continue looking on the floor. But something was stringing me along, like a puppeteer. They made my hand reach for the doorknob.

I turned the handle.


There you were, hair tucked behind your ear as you hummed a song, probably some pop song by Taylor Swift. There were a lot of her songs on your playlist. A grilled cheese sandwich was plated on the side. Right, it was lunchtime. Everyone else would go down to the cafeteria to eat, but you and I had always stayed and continued to work. Management was okay with it, since we worked on calculations, and had no dangerous chemicals or machinery we could mess up by eating.

Your head snapped up when you saw me, eyes narrowing.

“Jonas, I thought I told you to stay home!” You said, your usual reprimanding tone. God, I missed it so much. I usually would cower back when you used that voice, but this time I smiled.

“I’m not sick.”
“Liar!”

You ran up to me and placed a hand on my forehead, visibly shocked when it was a regular body temperature.

“You’re not Jonas.” It was stated as a fact, not a question. You were wrong, but right too. I wasn’t the Jonas you thought I was.

I could almost cry having you in front of me, really breathing, blinking, existing.

I would’ve told you I was Jonas. But I could never lie to you, not with your bright eyes or soft features. I didn’t lie.

“I’m from the future.”

You believed me, for whatever reason you believed me. Your expression became solemn.

“You can’t do that.”

I knew you’d say that. So I told you, I told you about how there would be a fire, about how you would be taken away because of it, about how I didn’t want to let you go and that was why I was here. Your gaze softened, eyes crinkling up in a smile.

“Jonas…” She murmured, “I appreciate the care, I really do. But you know what I say about time travel, the flapping—”
“Yes! I know! The flapping of a butterfly’s wings can cause a tornado somewhere distant! I’ve heard it a million times! I don’t care about that! You’re dead Sonya, I can’t handle that!”

She wrapped her fingers around my hand. Her soft, thin fingers. She was smiling, but regret lingered behind her eyes. “I’m sad I have to go so soon Jonas, but it’s what’s meant to happen. You can’t change the past.”
“B-But—”
“No buts Jonas, go back in time to prevent all these changes from happening. Just me interacting with you right now is enough to trigger a butterfly effect.”

My time travel device suddenly felt heavier. I lifted it up, my hand trembling.

“Do I have to?”
“Of course you do.”

I cried for the first time since I heard about your death. Tears streamed down my face. I wrapped my hands around you, a guttural sob ripping from my throat.

“I-I don’t want to leave you S-Sonya! Please!” I begged, though I knew you were right. I had to let go, I had to move on. You pat my back, comforting me.

“It’s okay. I know it hurts darling, but it has to be done.”

I held the device in my hands.

“Even though I love you?”
“Especially because.”

I changed the date on the device. A finger placed over the button.

“Okay. Alright.” I looked up to you, your face still beautiful despite the fact it was stained with tears. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

I pressed the button before I could check if you really said that, or if it was just my imagination.

♖ | 1992 words