What was the last few paragraphs you wrote?


TECHNICALLY not the last thing I wrote, but it counts if you don’t include dialogue:

Time seemed to halt as Jessica released her grip and tossed the documents into the fire, disposing of them like they were worthless trash. The flames erupted as they climbed over the papers, their magnificent orange, red, and yellow hues crumbling and dissolving the parchment into ash. A ghostlike scream seemed to rise from their charred remains, but perhaps it was only Nate’s defeated cry as he mourned the loss of his anchor to humanity. For others, the destruction of one song may have been an inconvenience at worst, but to Nate, the blow was so devastating that it felt like a part of his soul died along with it.

Perhaps he had no soul left at all. Maybe he had exchanged it the second he signed the contract to join the Masked Records, stripping him of his conscience and empathy for others. It would be one of many things that Jessica had stolen from him since that ill-fated day.

“I did this for you. Don’t you see that?” Jessica’s gentle voice whispered in his ear as he sank to the ground. Burying his head in his knees, he traced the pattern of the wooden floorboards, unable to gaze into the eyes of the monster that had wrecked him beyond saving. Darkness cast a shadow over his heart, plunging him back into submission - submission, that, over time, had warped into just another word for denial. At least his mistress had been generous enough to let him feel anything at all.

“You’re right,” he murmured at last, lifting his head and brushing away the tears that had gathered under his eyes. “I love you.”

Now THIS is the last thing I actually wrote:

“Yeah, Nate, you listening to this, you sick fuck? You’re a psychopath. I hope this city strands you on the side of the road and Andy personally runs you over, because my god, do you have issues, man - issues I don’t even think a ward could straighten out. Don’t even get me started on your little fantasy world of ‘Ohhhh, everyone’s out to get me’; yeah, of goddamn course we are, because one of these days you’re going to end up hurting someone and the court is not going to treat you nicely just because you’ve got the cash. You’re ruining everything, you pathetic involuntary celibate. You’re ruining me. He’s ruining me!”

Quite a…quite a contrast.


I wish I could say I had some sort of genius to add to this thread, but all I really have is a set up section. First chapter of my first book in a while. Oh boy.

Vega waved his hand, and both Doriyan and Madelynn joined him by his chair. “We’re setting up a permanent station on the moon. I’m sorry that this wasn’t decided on before, but I have no choice. This mission could take years to complete, maybe decades. I won’t force you to stay. If you wish to go back to the Federation, I’ll send you back with a cruiser.”

Doriyan spoke up first. “No sir. I chose to come here expecting that I might not go home. I’m here to stay. Besides, you need your intel guy.” He smiled at Vega. The two had been friends for years, with Vega having advanced further in the military, entirely because Doriyan had no wish to become a commander. He claimed it was too much work.

Vega turned to Madelynn. “What about you?” He had met her during a mission on the inner ring a few years prior. He recognized her skills in combat and command, and offered her a position as one of his lieutenants.

“I shall be staying as well. You’ll need all the help you can get if this mission is to be completed.” She nodded at him, and then saluted.

Vega closed his eyes, and interlocked his fingers. “Thank you my friends.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Until further notice, we are on recon duty. We’ll obtain all the information we can about that storm. We will save the people of Aurus, and return to the Federation victorious.”

Like I said, it’s no genius, but It’s alright in my opinion


I like it! I’m a big sucker for dialogue and description of dialogue. So I was able to see the painted picture. I’m assuming a sci-fi?

I am currently on a writers block and this is what I have so far Jaja.

Elliot, Ignatius, and Rune stared in silence. Tonatiuh jumped on Elliot’s shoulder wrapping its tail around his neck before falling asleep. Elliot petted his spirit beast feeling the cat purr. The young injun paused.

He turned his gaze towards his abdomen where Zephyr’s magical orb now rested. He could feel a tingly sensation flow up his veins and throughout his body. To Elliot it was the same as receiving a pat on the back or a hug from a loved one.

When Elliot stopped petting Tonatiuh the sensation subsided. It was then that he knew there was a deeper connection between the two. Elliot had his suspicion. He wanted to make sure. He rubbed Tonatiuh’s head and it’s purr turned to a soft growl. Again, a sensation erupted in him. Elliot smiled, scratched Tonatiuh’s chin and returned his attention to his friends.

“I won’t lie,” Ignatius started. He had a childish look on him that screamed excitement. “That was cool.”

Elliot and Rune chuckled.

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Even if I remember the way Tanimae sent braches and vines through him like spears, and let his body drop from the trees like a broken ragdoll. I let the scene play out in my mind a few times, though every time I see it my heart shatters all over again.

I have to keep watching it over, keep remembering it, keep seeing it and seeing it and seeing it.

Forgetting wouldn’t be fair on him. He died for what I did, years ago, and he’d still be alive if I hadn’t made that mistake. Persis calls it ‘wallowing’. Tells me it’s not healthy. She says it like she says everything- so casually that it’s impossible to tell if she means it or not.

Years ago, I only wanted to stop Tanimae.

Today, I want her dead.

I check my phone, and find a message from Persis. Or Theta. They’ve managed to find an address, and when I look it up I find it’s somewhere on the outskirts of the town where the buildings are mostly farmhouses and barns. The house I’m looking at stands alone, perfectly defendable and impossible to get near without being seen.

Of course.


I like it that the spirit beast purrs :slight_smile:

from War Mage Sixteen

Xi ran his eyes over the last row of characters in Rustam’s letter, advising him to not rush into taking Imperial Oath to Emperor Tingkung. A mage of free will could prove an asset, Rustam wrote. He let the scroll’s edge to curl back up, and shifted his attention back to the apprentice.

“How did Emperor Hsuanji died?” If only his voice could be as firm as his former Master’s hand.

“Ah… the official version is that a crimson dragon, each scale glittering with rubies, each feather etched in scarlet, carried the Emperor away to Heavens to plead for the return of the dragons.” The apprentice stared thoughtfully into the bottom of his cup, avoiding looking at Xi’s. He was the best soothsayer in Rustam’s Coven, so Xi trickled his understanding to mess up the leaves. The secrets must remain secret, particularly the ones he only half-gleaned himself.


I love all the details here, both in the dialogue and the actual narrative. If only his voice could be as firm as his former Master’s hand says so much without needing to use a lot of words. A perfect example of show.

Regardless of whether Emperor Hsuanji actually did go to the Heavens like that, that’s a badass way to go tbh. I want people to tell stories about me like that.

I will say I’m not sure I understand this line: so Xi trickled his understanding to mess up the leaves is this a typo or…?

I dunno if anyone on Wattpad knows what this is from but.

Note: the “did she just” is in reference to Yoru calling her by her first name because for the rest of the book she’s been referred to as only 'Miss Beaulieu’

“Relax, Miss Beaulieu. Nothing happened that was not positively asserted.”

She ignored Yoru, scanning her arms for any misplaced scratches or bruising. She was still as pale as she remembered.


She stilled, heart hammering. Did she just…?

“Look at me.” Yoru didn’t continue until she raised her head. With a frown, she cupped Evelyn’s cheek and said, “Nothing happened.”

Though the Lady’s words brought some relief, they brought confusion as well. Evelyn looked around the room with clenched fists, taking in the grey walls and the blue silk over her head. This wasn’t her room, she realized. She was still in the manor.

“Then why am I here?”

Yoru didn’t move. Evelyn’s mind focused on how cool she felt, like she had put her hand against a frosted window moments before.

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Aww, thank you! No, just ‘in setting’ thing. My human (hsin) mages call their magic ‘understanding’ so Xi uses magic to shuffle the tea leaves on the bottom of his cup to prevent a reading. He is particulary strong with sonic based magic, so he often comes accross as a telekinetic user.

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From the draft of my upcoming short-story, They Will Call Our Name.

I turn towards them. [name3] who’s already up the first stair, [name] who dwell at the first one, looking up like there’s no real escape. I push my feelings down as I look over to [Name2]. On her face is a tiny smile, a kind of rebellion against our odds.
“We can do this,” I say between heavy breaths. “Up and we’re free. Up and we save [name].”
Saying his name reawoke our group. For a moment I think most of us forgot that [name] is the one running. [Name] is Hunted. We could still choose safety and live, but he had no such choice and for me that meant giving up a friend I did not want to lose.

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Elena entered her classroom, and inmediatelly felt the noise from Reporter Faringa

“Reports indicate that criminal stadistics from around our city of Santiago have descended to 5%, the lowest historically, and similar effects are seen around the world. It’s facts now, the Authority, just a few weeks away from It’s third anniversary, has been more efficient than any government in history of the human race in maintaining order and peace. We can be sure there won’t be wars for… The following of eternity, crime is descending, poverty is being erased. How can it be more perfect! They say that people in Brooklyn, New York, are walking calmly, there is longer crime to be worried about, thanks to Governor David from the American LA at service of our Global Authority, here in Chile, the crisis…”

Before the radio could keep talking, Elena put her backpack in her desk and yelled

“Please turn that damn thing off” asked Elena in a passive-aggressive voice

Just then Isabel, Claudio and Rebeca noted her presence, and turned the radio off

“Elena, I was wondering when you would appear” said Isabel

“I’ll go to you in a minute” said Elena while establishing her desk, she then looked upon the classboard, above it, there was the damned phrase again, “Authority, Order, Peace, we are the saviors of humanity”, the phrase was everywhere, in buses, in stores, in schools, in offices, in factories, public parks, bathrooms. Elena can’t remember the last place she entered any room and didn’t saw that phrase since years ago

On one side of the classroom, one could also see yet another poster, this one was a of two male soldiers and two female soldiers, all of them smiling while holding their rifles to the air
Don’t know what career path to follow? Consider joining the Authority’s Army for bringing glory to your home! Benefits assured! Five year service or permanent service! Permanent upgrade for you and your family to Middle Class!

Elena went to chat with her friends. About the most mundane of stuff, makeup, teenager crushes, teachers, tests, and the like

Elena had been friends with Isabel and Claudio since they were in the crib, her mother used to tell her that they went to the same daycare, and the parents also became friends between them. Unfortunaly, Elena’s parents and Claudio’s ones haven’t get along since The Change, that was explained by the pins wore by Claudio, he had the bronze star pin, a representation of the fact he and his family are Middle Class

The bells ringed, it was 8:30 and all students were called into class. Primary Day, first class, math.
Elena got her math notebook out and wrote out the date
Primary Day, 15 of Fifth, Year 4
Authority, Order, Peace, we are the saviors of humanity
Now, they had to wait perfectly still while waiting for the Teacher.


Very good! So. Is the [Name] intentional or a placeholder for now? Regardless, this makes me extremely curious. I am looking towards reading your novel!!

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Thanks! :orange_heart: Revealing the names was heavy spoilers so I had to remove them.

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Since someone already responded to the above paragraphs, I’ll just jump in, I guess :joy:


“Johnny, before a decision is made, I must ask: does anyone in Blackbury have the pox?" Sarah muttered, her interest too great to bear any longer, but Johnny shook his head.

“No, and I do not know how Mercy even contracted it, unless… unless she was with someone that she was not supposed to be with,” Johnny added, blushing at the thought of Mercy running off into the night to meet up with a stranger and do God-knows-what.

Golden Eagle snapped his fingers once, ordering those about to speak into silence. “I will make my final decision about releasing the remaining four white women with my counsel this evening. My decision will be announced tomorrow morning.”

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From Sorcery Ice Slayer:

“A world record, ladies and gentlemen! Veronika Oleskya has broken the world record for her short and long programs!!”

“Oh my gosh! I won… I won…” She repeats with an increasing crescendo to the point she gets up and screams from the top of her lungs. She jumps up and down with unmatched sheer joy. Her coaches, unable to contain themselves, stand to hug their student.

Roni stands on the middle podium, holding a bouquet of flowers. She takes note of the shiny gold medal placed over her. Hands anxiously shake.

I did it… I finally… did it.

“We should support her.”
“Yeah, bring out the French flag!”

Unable to contain the happiness, Roni gets off and skates around.

“Miss Oleskya, I need to take a picture.”


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From Angels Exist:

“You drag me all the way up here. I go through all that. I knew it was too good. I knew I couldn’t trust y-” Elle was cut off by a strange pressure under her armpits. Almost like hands grabbing her and pulling her up into the air as if she was weightless. Within a second, she felt the tips of the pine trees brush against her feet, then she looked down, and then began screaming.


Just editing stuff. :+1:


Chapter 1-2: The Cambion and the Snow Sprite

Dmitri stepped inside the little house. Mix with the scent of old wising wooden barks and cinnamon dust, the house had the same savor of meat. This was it, the familiar cooking house. He sat on a straw sacked cushion beside the fire trenched in the middle of the room. The corners of the house were deeply engraved in drunken shadows. It reminded him of turtle shells by how encased it was in here. The darkness was uncomfortable. It looked as if it would grab and bind him at any given time, throwing him into an abyss of nothingness. Despite his fears, Dmitri understood that the fire was not for the luxury to see things, it was only for their breaths. The summer still chills longingly.


Love the simple efficiency in your descriptions. It easily gave a picture of the house.

This excerpt is from THIS IS NOT FOR YOU.

Interesting thing to watch the life leave someone. I’ve read on people feeling disturbed or shaken, but I experienced the opposite. Calm. Fulfilled, almost.

I actually laughed at her convulsions, if I remember correctly. Poor thing. She couldn’t have known. I pulled the knife from my back and licked it. Tasted like shit.

Something had caught my eye during the murder and impromptu snuff film. The girl had a small tattoo on her palm. A spiral knot. The triskele. This seemed important, for whatever reason, so I carefully cut the tattooed skin from her hand and put it in my pocket before continuing the walk home.

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This gave me chills! One thing I see, did you mean”I pulled the knife from HER back”?

Here’s mine. Pretty basic start to the 21st chapter:

The sun had already dipped below the horizon when Bane gathered his associates into the conference room at Crimson Inc. Lucifer, D’Arcy, Ben, and Mordecai sat in rigid silence as Bane flipped through paperwork stacked on the table in front of him. Every piece of information they had on Evan Jaleski, Frank Lewis, and Edwin Harker. His blood boiled just reading through the phone conversations between the three men. He looked up when the door opened, and James walked in.

“You wanted to talk to me before Matt and Komazzi got here?” James asked.

“Yeah, we need to get your camera set up,” Bane withdrew a pair of contact lenses from a small box. Designed by Crimson Inc. last year, they had a tiny microchip and sensors built in. “The Organization will most likely confiscate your phone once they have you in custody. These lenses will record everything you see and hear. You can take photos by blinking.”

“Cool!” James took the lenses from Bane and gingerly inserted them into both eyes. “Komazzi never said we would be using hidden cameras…”

“That’s because Komazzi doesn’t know yet,” Bane said, and motioned for James to sit down.

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This is so eloquently written. I feel like I’ve just stepped into the room and am watching a plan unfold!

He looked over at the man beside him, whose eyes were half shut, but fighting to stay open. His lips were seperated, just barely, and his breathing was labored as he woke from his heavy sleep. Arlo couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain in his chest as he looked down at the tear in Caide’s shirt. He knew that the wound would heal quickly, but there would definitely be a scar there. Arlo’s throat tightened.

He would have one too.

A shout came from behind them and Arlo growled. His plan was in motion, but these guys were more annoying than he thought they would be.

They rounded another corner and Arlo counted down in his mind.

They’d be in the hallway that led to those fateful doors in about ten minutes. He glanced down and Caide’s shuffling feet. Make that fourteen.

With a burst of adrenaline in his veins, he moved forward faster, sure that Caide would keep up knowing that he had to. His friend leaned against him more lightly now. He was getting stronger. Arlo looked over, surprised to see Caide’s shirt had been unbuttoned halfway. His fingers pressed against the flesh on his side. Caide’s eyes wandered over, taking sudden note of Arlo’s bound wrists.


Uh oh.

“What’s up, man?” he asked nonchalantly, ignoring the realization dawning beside him.

“Why do I feel like I should want to kick your ass?”

Arlo said nothing, his lips tilting into a sly little smirk.


Okay, it’s longer than a paragraph but stopped writing this as soon as realised where it was going.

Buckingham Palace , London , England

Seated at the royal breakfast table, Elizabeth Regina, Queen of England, shovelled lavishings of honey on her slice of buttered toast. “Charlie?”
“Yes, Mother,” replied the prince.
“The trainer telephoned last evening. He says Blenheim Boy will stay a mile if the ground’s not too soft, and we should absolutely enter him in the Royal Hunt Cup. What do you think?” the Queen said, before biting into her toast and beginning to chew.
“Mother, I think you should ask Annie. Annie knows about these things.”
“I’ve already asked Annie, she said, ‘Not bloody likely’, but that’s her answer to everything when she gets in one of her moods.”

Prince Charles discarded his newspaper, clasped his hands together, and listened to his mother crunching whilst he considered his answer. “Well, mother, I think if the ground –”
The crunching stopped abruptly. The slice of toast fell, honey-side-down, to the floor. The Queen remained perfectly still in her chair, eyes closed, mouth still open.
“Mother?” Charles whispered.
No reaction.
“Mother?” he repeated, more loudly.
Queen Elizabeth remained silent, serene, at peace. She looked entirely regal, just like on the stamps, the notes, and the coins - apart from the open mouth, full of half-chewed toast. The Prince reached across the table, and lifted his mother’s chin to close her mouth.
“Mother!” the Prince hissed, slapping the table.
“Hmm.” Prince Charles sat still a while, listening, semi-hypnotised by the relentless ticking of the Grandfather clock. “Boo!” he suddenly shouted at the Queen.
The Queen neither winced, blinked, or indeed, showed any inkling of life.
“Mother!” The Prince pursed his lips, leant forward, and gently blew into his mother’s face.
Oh bugger! He took the Queen’s hand, raised it to head height, and released it. The royal hand fell, apparently lifeless as it bashed onto the table. Dear Lord. Bless. She’s finally gone. Charles leaned back in his chair, wondering if his mother had felt any pain or she’d simply slipped away. He took a mental picture – this is how he wanted to remember her. “Oh, mother.” He buried his face in his hands and began to sob. He’d take this last moment alone with his mother to say goodbye, then he’d call somebody. But who should he call? A doctor? Camilla? Princess Annie? Yes, Annie would know what to do.

The Queen is dead. Long live the King . After reciting the Lord’s prayer, Charles stood, looked into the mirror, straightened his attire, and practiced a regal, enigmatic smile. “King Charles III.” He saluted his image.
With a start, the Queen snorted, and sat bolt upright. “No, no, no . . . King Charles Spaniels are so ugly, pathetic little creatures. We must have Corgis! It has to be Corgis. I love Corgis. Corgis are easily the best dogs.”
Fuckety fuck! Charles, deflated, turned slowly. His bottom lip quivered as he fought his emotions. “Mother, I thought -”
“Thought what?” The Queen appeared genuinely taken aback. “Charles, how did you get all the way over there? We were talking about . . . Erm, what were we talking about? Did I fall asleep again? Where’s my toast?”


Emory nodded and smiled. “My family fled from Europe when I was young. Despite my complexion, I’m not from Africa. I remember that devastation, and I understand why you would take this so deeply to heart. This place truly is a haven of freedom compared to anywhere else. Thank you for protecting it.”

Nia shrugged. “It’s my home, it’s the least I can do.”

Casey cleared his throat, catching both of their attention, and Nia looked up at him. He didn’t look mad, just nodded a little to her.

She let out a quiet breath. Casey understood, but she did need to be paying better attention. Talking about morals and freedom was wonderful, but they had an assassination to plan. She leaned forward onto the table some. “Yes?”

“I need you two to listen in for this. We know which building you’ll be stationed in, Nia, but we need more intel on it. So, who wants to do a little recon?”

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