M. R. Bex Writes

Writer of sci fi & fantasy stories. Come in and say hi! Always happy to make new friends, and ramble to other people. Will participate in tag games! Writblr blog of @islanded-in-a-stream-of-stars

[mrbexwrites]

Writblr Intro

(Updated for 2026!)

Hello! I'm Mo, and it's great to meet you! I've been on Tumblr for years, but this is a separate blog to post about my writing, so as not to bore my mutuals over on my main blog @islanded-in-a-stream-of-stars! If you get a follow from that account, that's me!

About me: ✽ She/her pronouns ✽ Millennial (I'm old, guys!) ✽ Scottish ✽ I love to read/write fantasy and sci-fi ✽ DM and asks are always open; tag game friendly :)

What I write: :

Science Fiction

Fantasy

And what I’d like to find:

Diverse/ethnic minority characters

Chronically ill/disabled characters

Queer characters

Women-centric narratives

Current WIPs

✽Blood Covenant- Mavis is a Hunter, a Soldier of the One, tasked with killing the Archeon, the High Demon who stole her brother. But when she fails the task, she is banished and must find her own way back into the fold.

Mentally-ill character, childhood trauma, overcoming trauma, healing & found family.

-Current status: Available to read on Wattpad

✽ Memento Mori - a collection of four novellas (hello NaNoWriMo!) following Morgana Dodds, a Millennium Citizen with the ability to speak to ghosts. Mentally ill character, LGBTQ+ characters, trauma included. -Current Status: Part I is up on Wattpad Parts II-IV still need to be edited

✽ Searching for Starlight- Aliens lands in Delhi, and Rashmi finds herself in the middle of an intergalactic coup, with the additional headache of a death cult. LGBTQ+ characters, and found family included.

-Current status: First draft completed.

✽ Broken Bonds- Lupine Lowell is just your average werewolf investigator with a pile of missing people with supernatural abilities to find, and estranged family to avoid.

-Current status: planning with minimal first draft actually written!

Banner set created by @cafekitsune from here

[mrbexwrites]

9 Lines, 9 People Tag

Tagged again by @queen-tashie (who is determined to always increase the great tag backlog!) I've been AWOL for most of May due to real life getting in the way of writing, but I'm back at the keyboard, and working away!

Passing the tag onto @beeonaspiderweb @surroundedbypearls @oh-no-another-idea @write-with-will @sarahlizziewrites @words-after-midnight @alintalzin @arowanaprincess and leaving an open tag !

As always, Mavis is having a bad time of it:

The weight crushed my chest, pinning me down. I wasn't able to move; frozen in place as I lay on my back, staring into the mismatched eyes of the Relevator. He pulled back his thin lips, to bare his yellow-stained teeth at me. "Meatsack," he hissed, the smell of rotten meat and stale onions hitting my face. I tried to move my fingers, drawing a protective glyph, but nothing happened. Like a Night Hag, he had me paralysed. It took all of my effort to even be able to lock my eyes on his, as he straddled my chest, pinning me down on my bed.

[queen-tashie]

OC Favourites

Thank you as always to @mrbexwrites for the tag!!

Rules: share photos of your OCs' favorite color, season, shoe choice, weapon, food & drink, clothing style, mode of transportation, animal, pastime, and breakfast and if they're an introvert/ambivert/extrovert BONUS: Add some music/songs that fit their aesthetic (the songs don't have to be their favorite songs, just fit their vibe)!

Tagging @ftmeriwether, @fleurtygurl, @astor-and-the-endless-ink, and an open tag as always!

You know what? How about a treat for mrbexwrites. Let's do this for Rio from The Quiet Forest!

Colour:

Season:

Clothing:

Transport:

Animal:

Pastime:

Breakfast:

[annamaggs16]

Sometimes you watch a really good show and need it injected into your veins as if every time you see it is the first. It moves you as if you experienced it in real time because while some things may be dramatized for show entertainment it’s core is the real story about a real woman who succeeds in her goal of gaining real legal freedoms and protections for all women and marginalized groups. That history still exists to this day and it should be fought for and protected and known.

Yes this is about La Legge di Lidia Poët

Top recommendation. Especially the finale episode

[beeonaspiderweb]

Five Lines

Thank you for tagging me @orphanheirs! (x)

Rules: post a line from your WIP that follows the prompt

Tagging: @axl-ul @diabolical-blue @mrbexwrites @alintalzin & anyone else who wants to do it!

YOUR LINES ARE:

A line about finally succeeding although things didn't go so well the first time

A line about an accident (can be something embarrassing one too!)

A line about rainy weather

A line about meeting someone important

A line about the meaning of love

A line about sleep

For a moment, Edvardas contemplated stirring Robertas awake from his sleep, hoping his brother could brew him one of those hot herbal teas that worked wonders. Robertas was a healer. You’d be surprised by how many people came to him with all sorts of health perils, both small and big. Robertas' heart was so pure, he would even check on injured birds or other animals if you asked him. Robertas was never one to turn anyone away at his door. You could knock at 4 a.m., and he’d welcome you in, still in his pajamas, before leading you to the back of the house for a thorough examination. But Edvardas was hesitant.

A line about writing

Clearly, Adamas didn’t dream of spending his life writing such articles, but his brother was nothing like him. Adamas seemed satisfied with everything life offered, while Edvardas constantly wanted more and more. Maybe he was the one being greedy, embodying every single one of the seven sins since he was little. He just always felt like there was a lot more to this world.

A line about memory

What a terrible night it was. Edvardas could barely sleep on his bed, even though it still had his old sheets and the familiar scents that had lingered for decades. The savory flavor of apple pie that his mother baked every Sunday from the apples they had grown in their yard, along with the cinnamon and ginger that complemented its sweetness, filled his memories. Some things could be put through the washing machine, but some scents never faded away.

A lighthearted line

“You should reprimand Robertas the same way next time your Nintendo Switch goes missing,” Adamas said. “It’s not missing. Just got peanut butter all over it.” Danielius shrugged. “I just like to see the panic on his face every time I ask him about it.”

A line about suspicion

Smiltė came inside and she saw Edvardas huddled up in the blanket by the fireplace. His forehead was sweating, and his slick hair was pushed back, eyes red and puffy, and the stare so vacant that Smiltė thought that he might wind up jumping into the fire.

[queen-tashie]

OC in Three

Thank you to @mrbexwrites for the tag!

Tagging @axl-ul, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @roselinbooks, and an open tag as always!

I've been working on building out Matei from Copper Frames more so here's three images I have for him!

[willtheweaver]

Character profile tag

Thanks for the tag @kitty-is-writing

Here it goes:

Name: Alder

Nickname: None known

Age: Unknown, at least 13 years old

Kind of being: Red Fox

Gender: Non-binary

Appearance: Red morph, with blue-grey eyes. Usually seen wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a straw raincoat.

Occupation: traveling toymaker

Family members: ‘Red’ Acacia (mother, deceased), Taiga (father, deceased), Jennie (oldest sibling), Amber (middle sibling), Bracken (youngest sibling)

Pets: none

Best friends: Closest friends unknown, they consider many they meet as their friend

Describe their room: The bed is shoved up in one corner, most of the room is a dedicated workshop. Scattered around the workbench and various chests and draws are pieces of fabric, blocks of wood, string, paint, and tools.

Way of speaking: Gentle, straightforward

Physical characteristics (postures, gestures, attitude): Rather warm and easy-going.

Items in their pocket/purse: A knife, fire starting kit, needle and thread

Hobbies: hiking, fishing, stargazing

Favorite sports: none

Abilities/ talents/ powers: possesses an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the roads and trails, a skilled wood carver and builder.

Relationships (how they deal with other people): They rather enjoy the company of youngsters. Always tries to see the best in others. Doesn’t like those who are disrespectful of others.

Fears: deep water

Faults: Can be stubborn, will not forget wrongs—and they won’t let others forget either

Good points: Kind, trusting. Will be there for those they befriend, strong morals

What they want more than anything else:To bring enjoyment and happiness to others

Tagging @thegreatobsesso @touloser-lautrec @author-a-holmes @seastarblue @illarian-rambling

@kaylinalexanderbooks @mrbexwrites @theink-stainedfolk @tildeathiwillwrite @jay-avian and open tag

[orangelizardtattoo]

My doves, what was your first classic?

(Yes, even if it was assigned reading)

[no-relief-next-to-me]

Define classic.

[orangelizardtattoo]

Let's use the wiki definition, my love, because this is such a fair question!

"A classic is a book accepted as being exemplary or particularly noteworthy, usually of some chronological age since its original publications." Let's say it must be at least 50 years old. I will make a separate post for modern classics on another day.

[no-relief-next-to-me]

I read Grapes of Wrath for a 4th grade book report.

[surroundedbypearls]

The Wildfire King

Chapter 1: Meredith Meredith and her friends lie in wait at their campfire.

Meredith Caelan, dragon-blessed, held her hands up to the feeble campfire. The night was chilly, as Nanterra’s nights often were, though the trees provided shelter. She wouldn’t have lit a fire if not for Maura. She was sensitive to the cold, and it was her first patrol. Alec wanted her as ready as she could be.

Maura sat across from her, fair hair in ringlets cut close to her ears, face white as she scooted closer to the campfire. Her gaze flitted from the flames to Meredith to Alec, as he checked the tack on Nosy, his grey gelding.

“Warm enough?” Meredith asked, and Maura’s face flushed. Meredith and Alec had been friends for years, so she’d known Maura for years as well. She still reacted this way every time. Alec joked it was a youthful infatuation, because it was more amusing than the truth. The great dragon of the Northern Fringe came upon their village only once, for Meredith.

Meredith didn’t know why, and neither did anyone else. Her clearest memory from that night was of the dragon’s face; everything else was hazy at best. But speculation, or plain awe, didn’t need rationale.

Maura gave a sheepish smile. “Yes, thank you. Are you?”

“She’s never cold.” Alec plonked down beside Meredith with a huff, the tip of his nose pink from the chill. “Woman’s made of steel.”

Meredith scoffed. “Not true.” She shifted in her seat, grimacing as discomfort crept up her spine towards her shoulders. She reached into her pocket for her willow bark, popping a piece into her mouth to chew. The pain came and went, though the scars criss-crossing her back never changed. Willow bark or tea helped, but her parents didn’t like her leaving on patrols. She wouldn’t give them up for anything. The road to Nowhere was the only interesting thing near Amynta village. Aside from the dragon, but the Fringe was much further away than it looked.

Alec rubbed his hands together and stretched out his legs. “The waiting is the worst part. You’ll get used to it.”

More on The Wildfire King here! Leave a comment or an ask to be added to the taglist.

[surroundedbypearls]

Find the Vibe Tag

Thanks for the tag @queen-tashie!

My vibe: "What are we?"

It's from Homebirds, here we gooo:

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Eli knelt down beside him. “First Gomez was on to me for texting in class. I finally escaped and then Keith walked up and I couldn’t get away, he’s such a blabbermouth…” “Keith? Guitar Keith?” Dean cursed his own blabbermouth. Eli smiled. “Don’t start.” He took Isaac’s hands in his. Isaac tried to squirm away, brow furrowed, but Eli gripped him tighter. “It was one date.” “It was two.” His gaze transfixed on Eli’s hands as they began to hum and glow in gold. “He still likes you.” “So what if he does?”

Tagging @mrbexwrites @alintalzin @werewolfhooligan

Your vibe is: "Nobody talk to me."

[no-relief-next-to-me]

Sunday Wednesday Writing Tag

Thanks for the tag @wintersenwritings

From the Spook of Bass Harbor Marsh:

Day One:

Squatted on a grassy knoll stood an ancient cabin that, despite decades after decades of salt-laden ocean wind that assailed it over and over, held firm on a solid foundation that acted as a bulwark against the blustery gale. Constructed of wood and set on stone quarried from the main land. It belonged to her grandfather and to his father before that. Jenna turned off the rumbling pickup truck before she stepped down onto the soft earth. Checking that the tarp which covered everything she owned stayed on and nothing got soaked in the soft rain. Nose flared as she took a deep breath of that comforting, nostalgic and earth musk of the swamp at the end of the property line just a handful of yards away. On the other side, and a bit further, sat that beautiful, unpredictable ocean. With a wooden pier that jutted out several large steps. A tiny one or two person boat pulled up on shore, sitting disused.

Though her keys jingled in the depths of her lean pocket as she fished for them. Exclaiming an, "ah-ha," when the key-ring came out after a struggle she thankfully won. As Jenna stepped onto the porch, the wood squeaked underneath her feet. That wooden bench still suspended by two thick chains from the awning, covered in leaf litter and various other debris, swayed in the breeze. With a critical eye, she examined the key for a moment before pushed it into the keyhole. After several long moments trying to get the old, disused tumblers to give way, they finally clicked. As if the metal needed to be convinced to open up for her. Stiff hinges tried their best to also keep her out of this ancestral home. But with a solid thrust from her shoulder, the door opened with a heavy bang and the hinges squealed in protest.

****

Share some writing!

@sodaliteskull @kitcatling @rot-robbie29 @rayne143 @x-exis-x

@thevagabondexpress @prognosticvaltiel @this-is-me19 @mermaidinthevoid @sarnai4

@william-shakesfeare @write-with-will @skuwu @islanded-in-a-stream-of-stars

Want to join my taglist? Click here and interact with the post! Or DM me or send an ask!

[queen-tashie]

Writing Share Tag

Tagged by (go on, guess who tagged me) @mrbexwrites of course!

Passing this onto @fleurtygurl, @axl-ul, @diabolical-blue, and leaving an open tag as always!

Look! Proof I've been working on The Quiet Beach (beach episode AU of The Quiet Forest):

"Tired already?" asked Zharan, walking into Runnicka's field of view, towel thrown over his bare shoulder. Runnicka rose to meet him, a smirk on her face. "'Course not. I just hope you've been practicing your volley ball game so you don't embarrass yourself like last year."

[queen-tashie]

Last Line Tag

Thank you to @mrbexwrites for the tag!

Passing the tag onto @elizmanderson, @writingamongther0ses, @axl-ul, @diabolical-blue, @ftmeriwether, plus leaving an open tag as always!

Here's a little spoilery line from Copper Frames (under the cut and with a redaction hehe):

"Because," said [redacted], "we're you're only hope for a cure."

[oh-no-another-idea]

word find tag

Thank you so much for the tag, @zmwrites! I have had a very productive morning today writing first at a cafe and then the library too -- having a blast! I'm going to have to schedule in more days like this soon, for sure, but first let me hunt down scrub, home, blue, and start in Necromancer WIP!

These are hefty excerpts, but the context is important, so get out your spectacles and enjoy <3

Scrub:

It’s invigorating. Quintus scrubs blood and dirt and sweat from his body, and releases the air in his lungs and blinks water from his eyes as he surfaces. The sky above him is pale and cloud-specked, and birds sing in the distance. He can’t remember the last time he was clean.

Home and Blue:

Nikolaos, you idiot, it’s time to come home. Quintus’s mind starts racing. Nikolaos in the rain, his hair plastered to his smiling face. Nikolaos chewing hungrily, crumbs dropping into his lap. Nikolaos trying to thread a needle with his tongue between his teeth. Nikolaos wiping away a frustrated tear when he thinks no one is looking. There’s a sound like a splash and Quintus comes back to himself, inhaling a mouthful of lake water and slipping under the surface. It’s cool and dark and quiet there, but he barely has time to contemplate it properly before a strong arm has disrupted it, looping around Quintus’s chest and yanking him back into a world of sensation and fear. He shakes water from his eyes and finds himself staring at Nikolaos, alive and well. “Oh thank god,” Quintus says, his voice breaking, and a suspicious amount of lake water rolling down his cheeks. They hold on to each other, trying to stay afloat, Nikolaos in all his sodden, heavy clothes, and Quintus nearly nude, both of them with matching blue lips. Nikolaos doesn’t speak, and Quintus tries very hard not to wonder what creative ways he might’ve died this time that Quintus cannot see.

Start:

Anger surges up inside Quintus like a wave washing ashore over and over again. He’s too short, too unhappy, too stupid to know when to stop. He punches Nikolaos’s very firm chest, and then once he starts, he can’t seem to stop, pummeling and pummeling and maybe he’s crying or saying something but he can’t hear it over the surf crashing in his ears. Nikolaos lets him, only turning his head slightly to avoid the worst of Quintus’s erratic movements. Quintus is unable to find himself in the maelstrom in his own head. He is lost, adrift, disoriented and off course, and everything hurts. “η καρδιά μου,” Nikolaos says, words Quintus doesn’t recognize. Perhaps because he cannot recognize them, he lashes out, strikes Nikolaos across the face in a knuckle-throbbing way that is sure to hurt. Grabbing him now, Nikolaos sets his jaw. Quintus hits him again.

Nikolaos takes one of Quintus’s arms and twists it sharply. Quintus shouts with the pain and pulls a knife, stepping under Nikolaos’s guard in a smooth motion, raising the point to Nikolaos’s throat. They freeze, locked in a perverse embrace, breathing heavily. “Stop,” Nikolaos says.

😈

Mwahaha, I say, and then I tag @winterandwords @reneesbooks @thegreatobsesso @memento-morri-writes @mrbexwrites @akindofmagictoo @finickyfelix and anyone else who'd like to find the words burst, before, beneath, and body.

[willtheweaver]

Incorrect quote tag

Thanks for the tag @forthesanityofstorytellers

Quote generator here

—————

Playa: You got a date yet Fen?

Fen: No….

Playa: Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

————

Hehehehe…I could see this happening

Tagging @mundanemoongirl @aalinaaaaaa @harleyacoincidence @ashen-crest @justabigoldnerd

@sunflowerrosy @the-ellia-west @ryns-ramblings @mrbexwrites @sleepyowlwrites and open tag

[borninwinter81]

A reminder: Terry Pratchett's work was dark as hell

Something that I've seen in a large number of criticisms of Good Omens S3 is that Terry Pratchett wouldn't have written it that way because it's "too dark", and that Terry was lighthearted and funny, and clearly all the humour in the novel came from him and all the dark bits came from Gaiman.

This is an old misconception which has been around since the publication of the novel, and I think the people saying that possibly aren't very familiar with Terry Pratchett's work, or at least only surface level familiar. At times it can be easy to miss because of the humour, but Terry did dark better than almost any author I've ever read.

The first time I read this passage in Nation it was like being hit in the face with a brick.

Nation is a book that I've seen negative reviews of because it isn't funny, and they're correct, how could a novel which opens with almost all the inhabitants of an island being killed be funny? But it's also one of his best novels. It feels very much like a novel he wrote to house all the rage he felt after his Alzheimers diagnosis, a rage which is palpable in that quote above.

But to go back to his more humour driven works, read the section in Reaper Man where Death can't muffle the sound of the sand in his Lifetimer running out. Read Night Watch where Vimes is going through the torture chamber at Cable Street (actually the whole of Night Watch is pretty damn dark). The opening of I Shall Wear Midnight (which I won't go into because TW, but some of what happens is so horrific in a very real-world sense that I couldn't quite believe I was reading it, especially in what was intended as a series for children). The part in Thud where The Summoning Dark meets The Guarding Dark, Vimes' inner Watchman, who is there not to keep darkness out, but to keep Vimes own darkness inside. Many other instances.

Make no mistake, I still don't like how Good Omens ended. I think it highly unlikely it would have ended that way if Terry were to have had anything to do with it because he was a far better writer than that (though of course none of us know that for sure, and even if he had written it that exact way it would still be bad and absolutely gut the message of the novel/S1).

But to say Terry Pratchett didn't write dark shit does a huge disservice to one of my favourite authors of some of the darkest shit I've ever read.

[queen-tashie]

Find the Vibe Tag

Thanks for the tag @talesofsorrowandofruin!

My vibe: "I can explain! ...No, there's too much. I can sum up."

Let's grab an excerpt from The Quiet Forest for this one! (It's vaguely on-vibe, anyway XD)

“Sarlentha Feio, what do we do?” asked Evolen. “There are three priorities right now: discussing the treaty, going to Wistil to warn them of the Ralimaul, and leading Farewai,” Sarlentha said, rubbing her temples. “I’ve given this some thought, and I don’t know where to start with any of them.”

Tagging @literarynecromancy, @surroundedbypearls, @emelkae, and leaving an open tag as always! Your vibe: "What are we?"