alternatively I do think it’s funny to be like
Villain: fool! the prophecy says that no man may kill me!
Trans Man Hero: *ineffectual stabbing*
Trans Man Hero: okay so like. the prophetic acknowledgement of my gender is good but also. very inconvenient right now.
normal websites will put ads all over the page. tumblr will just stick a header on top of their website for every single user telling them to log off. this is the only good social media site
Chapter 1
I was woken by the cold shock of snow being tossed in my face. I spluttered and sat up in the crook of Malic’s branches. “Malic!” I whined “what was that for?”
The tree laughed with a shake, his branches clattering with each other. One branch swooped down toward me. I ran a hand along it and on it’s end formed a beautiful red apple. I plucked it delicately.
“Well I guess breakfast makes up for it” I muttered. I bit into the apple and savored the sweet taste.
Few trees in the orchard produced apples to share anymore. The only reason they had before was because of the dryads of the village enriching them with their magic. Now after years of that magic’s absence many of the trees had returned to their quiet fretting.
Once I was done eating I climbed down Malic’s branches, my feet splashing up some snow with my landing. “Alright I’m off to the beavers then” I told him. “I’ll be back later” I lifted a hand to his trunk and felt his warmth run off on me. With a smile I hurried off into the woods.
The natural order of the woods was to move fast and keep hidden. This was especially certain for dryads. The Witch hated our natural magic that could make things grow. Beaver supposed that was why she destroyed the village when I was younger. I wasn’t as sure.
My father had been well known in The Wood. He spoke out against the witch and wasn’t afraid to fight for what was right. The Beaver’s don’t really talk about it but I knew that any resistance that might have formed when I was younger had been squashed upon his and my mother’s deaths. Despite this I still held hope that things would get better.
I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard the familiar bark and trample approach of the secret police. You couldn’t be seen by the secret police. My heart rate picked up and a jolt of fear shot through my veins.
I scrambled over to a nearby tree nearly face planting in the dirt. After placing a dirty hand to his trunk I was granted a hiding place up in his branches. I prayed the wolves would pass by below without an issue.
Unfortunately my luck is horrible. Two patrols met and stopped to compare notes right below me. I took this as a spying opportunity though, and tried to hear them below. Making sure to keep out of any kind of line of sight were they to look up. I shifted on the branch and accidentally banged my forehead into a higher limb. I held on and made sure not to fall or make too much noise. Holding a hand to my head I forgot they were covered in mud. Further attempts to clean my now dirty face failed.
"What did you find?" said a gruff voice I knew as Maugrim head of the secret police. If he was here then whatever was going on had to be serious. I abandoned trying to wipe my face clean and listened intently.
"Not much sir the trees aligned with us don't have much recollection of an event such as that." Spoke one of the wolves from the other patrol.
“Of course, not many here support her majesty." Said his companion
"This isn't good her majesty will not be pleased" stated the wolf with Maugrim
"Do any of you really believe that these rumors are true?" the first wolf spoke.
"Quiet don't speak like that" the second scolded.
"This is the fifth time we've gotten such an accusation in the last couple days." he argued.
"Silence" Maugrim snapped. "Do not question the Queens orders or I'll gut you myself on her command"
"Yes sir" the wolf out of turn whimpered.
"Now back to work" the wolves headed off at Maugrim’s command.
I listened for their sounds to fade before climbing down. “Thank you” I whispered to the tree before heading on off to the Beaver’s.
“Beaver! Beaver!” I called crouching down to knock on the door. “You’re never going to believe this.”
The door opened and Mrs. Beaver gave me a questioning look. “Arbor? What in heaven’s name are you screaming about and look at your face it’s covered in dirt”
I scrambled into the house. Breathing heavily. “Maugrim was in the woods” I explained “he said they got a report of something.”
“Maugrim?” Beaver inquired, hobbling out of a back room “where in The Wood?”
“Will you both keep your voices down” Mrs. Beaver scolded lightly. “The last thing we want is someone over hearing you”
“Out near Tumnus’s and the lamppost. They said they were getting reports about something in the woods and something about rumors” I told them taking a seat at the table.
Beaver sat across from me and leaned in speaking in a low voice “rumors? Tumnus’s? You know Badger told me something the other day-“
“Oh now don’t go sharing it with her” Mrs. Beaver interrupted quickly. “It could be dangerous. She’s only a child”
“Hey I’m not that young” I objected “I can take care of myself”
Mrs. Beaver huffed “you are indeed a child and you have no business getting mixed up in all this”
“What even is this?” I exclaimed.
“Aslan is-“
“Beaver!” The woman of the house silenced her husband.
“She deserves to know! Just think of her parents” Beaver told the Mrs.
“Her parents?” Mrs. Beaver sighed and lowered her voice “and just look what happened to them”
“They fought against the White Witch” I spoke up “and I want to as well”
“Now you listen here child” Mrs. Beaver gave me a motherly stare. “I don’t want you getting wrapped up in any of this. You understand me?” She walked over to the counter and collected some berries and biscuits into a little box she closed and shuffled back over to me “now you take these and go home to Malic. Go. Go on” she showed me to the door.
“I’ll be back tomorrow with your box” I told her grumpily. “And more information”
“You better now off with you” She pestered me along. “And don’t be causing anymore trouble”
“Bye” I waved one last time before turning and dashing off into the snow.
“Be careful!” I heard Mrs. Beaver's final call.
The Beavers have been taking care of me ever since my parents died. Them and Malic. They were my family here in the woods.
I ran through The Wood weaving among the trees. The box Mrs. Beaver had given me clattered in my jacket pocket. It was fun to just run free.
Then I heard the sleigh bells. I stopped in my tracks. Frozen, I listened. There was the sound of trampling feet and I ducked behind a rock not long after the Witch’s sleigh came rocketing past. I stayed very still watching it go before getting to my feet.
As she disappeared from view I felt a breath leave my lungs I hadn’t realized had been stuck. My luck really stunk today. First the wolves then the Witch’s carriage herself. I took another deep breath and turned to continue on my way when I froze. Standing not too far off was a boy.
He was dressed in blue with dark hair and eyes. A light dusting of freckles on his face and slippers on his feet he was roughly the same age as me. He looked completely out of place here in the woods. “Wh-who are you?” he asked, a rustling went through the trees and I realized very quickly that they didn’t know him. He wasn’t a dryad like me. He was a human. “Who are you?” he repeated again.
I opened my mouth to respond a little shocked just looking in his eyes. “Edmund!” There was an exclamation and the boy turned toward the voice. Without thinking I quickly ducked behind a large oak and was gifted up into his branches. Crouching there hidden.
A girl had appeared from the woods and greeted the boy. She was dressed in pink with short brown hair and more freckles. They talked for a moment. They were talking too softly for me to hear with the exception of a whining the boy made rather loudly when he shoved the girl away from him.
She turned and began to lead the way back to wherever they were from. I watched them go and saw the boy look back to where I had been with a perplexed expression. It felt weird knowing he was thinking of me.
Once they had vanished from sight I slid down the tree and felt my heart start pounding in my chest. Two humans were in the woods. Two more and we would have the entire prophecy. Spring was going to come. Narnia was going to be free. I let off an excited giggle and turned, making to head back to the Beavers with my news.
I began to run but was stopped when something leapt into my path. I slid on the snow and fell. Looking ahead I saw a wolf stalking around blocking my path. “Well, well, well, look what we have here” I turned to see Maugrim stalking forward behind me. “The rumors might not have worked out how we thought, but we still got something for our trouble. A lone little dryad”
I scrambled onto my feet looking between the two wolves and the woods. “Try it” the second wolf snapped menacingly.
I glanced between the wolves one more time before steeling myself and dashing forward. They were right behind me howling and barking and chasing. This was just a game to them. One grabbed my heel and I fell forward into the snow. Fighting against them a clawed paw tore at my arm ripping the fabric of my jacket and stinging my arm with pain. “Stop struggling we’re not going to kill you.” Maugrim growled as I gripped my arm tightly “her majesty would like to meet the last of the dryads”
I felt my heart beating in my chest. This was not good.
a non-selective plan for the resurgence of fic commissions
Can I just… talk for a moment… about how much I love how, if you know them well, words don’t have synonyms?
English, for example, is a fantastic disaster. It has so many words for things that are basically the same, and I find there’s few joys in writing like finding the right word for a sentence. Hunting down that peculiar word with particular meaning that fits in seamlessly in a structure, so the story flows on by without any bumps or leaks.
Like how a shout is typically about volume, while a yell carries an angry edge and a holler carries a mocking one. A scream has shrillness, a roar has ferocity, and a screech has outrage.
This is not to say that a yell cannot be happy or a holler cannot be complimentary, or that they cannot share these traits, but they are different words with different connotations. I love choosing the right one for a sentence, not only for its meanings but for how it sounds when read aloud. (Do I want sounds that slide together, peaceful and seamless, or something that jolts the reader with its contrast? Snap!)
I love how many words for human habitats there are. I love how cottage sounds quaint and cabin sounds rustic. I love steadiness of house, the elegance of residence, the stateliness of manor, and tired stubbornness of shack. I love how a dwelling is different to a den.
And I love how none of them can really touch the possessive warmness of all the connotations of home.
Words are great.
hanging out with other ADHD people is such a balm. i can interrupt them midsentence and go “look at that nice duck!!” and they’ll immediately turn around and go “oh my god that is a GOOD duck” instead of just snapping at me to pay attention
When someone is really freaking mad at me for inducing an emotional response from them
when readers give me a background of how/when they read my writing
when readers give me a background of why they shouldn’t have been reading my writing (usually while at work)
when readers quote my work back to me in comments
the frickin’ real heroes here, the ones who comment on every chapter of an ongoing multi-chapter fic