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sorry for being indecisive, I haven’t had any prophetic dreams to guide me in a while

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Cyrus Mornay- Character introduction

They tried to drown him when he was born.

He didn’t die. So they made him a servant. When the house caught fire, they blamed him for surviving that too.

The village called him monster. Threw shoes. Spat names. He learned not to flinch. Just to aim, just to throw back.

At the circus, he became something else. Learned how to throw cards with perfect precision. Learned fire. Learned that pain could become skill—if you threw it hard enough.

When the circus kept torments like animals, he turned them in himself. That’s how Michael Barlow found him. Not just alive. Not just angry. Sharp.

Now he throws cards laced with fire. Trains with a man who saw more than a weapon. And when he burns, he burns clean.

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Rain tapped steadily against the sidewalk as Finn leaned against the wrought iron fence, tearing into a half-cold Bánh mì. Across the street, the sun ducked behind a line of buildings, casting deep orange light under thickening blue clouds. Storm season was coming. A sharp groan echoed from the alley beside his apartment complex, causing Finn to pause mid-bite. He slid his sunglasses up and squinted toward the noise. “Could be a raccoon,” he muttered. “Could be a mugger.” Either was plausible this close to the boardwalk. He shuddered at the thought of tourists straying this far. The flickering neon lights of Stacy’s Diner lit the alley in flashes of pink and green. Shadows stretched and twisted across the dumpsters as Finn walked over. The stench of warm rot was familiar—worse than usual. He lifted the lid with one hand. A kid—barely older than fifteen—was curled on his side, half-conscious. Sweat plastered dark curls to his forehead, and blood soaked through a battered sweatshirt stamped with ‘Piya STEM Academy.’ Finn frowned. “How does a smart kid like you end up like this?” The boy mumbled something unintelligible. Finn poked him lightly in the stomach. “Bullying?” No answer. The kid wasn’t blinking. His eyes were glassy, staring past Finn at something in the sky only he could see. Blood trickled from the lid onto his cheek, and he didn’t even flinch. “Yeah,” Finn muttered, fishing out his phone, “I’m calling an ambulance.”

From a WIP I’ve been working on—Finn meets Kai under less-than-ideal circumstances.

© 2025 Clinko | Original Work | Characters: Finn, Kai

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What makes you drop a story like a hot potato?

follow up to last week's poll for those who missed it

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What's the worst trope?

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I wrote a book. And for a while, I didn’t tell anyone because it felt easier to let it stay in my head than try to explain why it matters.

It’s about characters who are kind of a mess not chosen ones or golden kids. They’ve just been surviving long enough to wonder if that’s all they’ll ever do.

It’s about becoming something honest even if the world doesn’t know what to do with you.

Um it also a bunch of different combat against monsterssss if that interests you.

Please follow if you want to be updated and/or learn more about the book :)

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I wrote a book for the queer kids who never saw themselves in the stories about heroes.

It’s for the ones who were too soft or too angry or too complicated to be someone’s chosen one. The ones who survived out of spite. The ones who built their own family from the ashes of what they lost.

There’s a reaper who doesn’t know how to grieve. A boy who ran away from home and never stopped running. A girl who loves too fiercely to say it out loud.

It’s messy. It’s haunted.

No one gets a clean arc. But they do get a chance.

If you’ve ever wanted a story where grief and queer identity are treated with tenderness instead of tragedy—where the people like us are allowed to be weird and broken and still worth loving—this might be for you.

Red meets blue is coming soon.

Reblogs mean the world. I’m just one person trying to get this story out there.

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I stayed up till 4 editing hahahahah owww

What do you mean I’m supposed to work in the morning the sun is out there 😭

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I’m laughing at my room at this thing really badly and I’m realizing that it’s something like a weeping 😭😭

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Oh ok so it turns out ive been borrowing grief from the future ! it turns out ive been preparing to lose the things i love rather than basking in the light of them while they last. Maybe i should nt do that

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What it feels like to looks back at your first draft

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Spellcasters hate this fact but if you just stick your fingers in their mouth while they're casting a spell with a verbal component it's literally more effective than a counter spell.

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✧･ﾟ: you’ve scrolled far enough, here’s a gentle reminder: Drink water, rest your shoulders, and go to sleep. Ao3 will still be there in the morning ✧･ﾟ:*

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Everything costs me money and it's not even that good

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Everyone tells me they love me but act indifferent when I’m in their presence. I feel like all decisions in my life are being made for me and I’m just an unwilling participant trying to survive without a purpose. I don’t even know why because I’m failing and I’m tired.

How come when I ask those I love to speak to me it’s like pulling teeth from an infected bite?

I get why there aren’t signs.