#( writing. )

[dk-thrive]

You will be different after this

When you read a poem, or listen to a song, or watch a play, you’re not the same person afterward. You’re slightly rearranged. Your DNA is still the same, your fingerprints are still the same, you look the same in the mirror, but you aren’t exactly who you were. Be careful, I might tell someone when handing them a book or a record, you will be different after this.

— Maggie Smith, Dear Writer (Washington Square Press, April 1, 2025)

[ghostlychaosfoil]

um um fanart for @dettiqueen ‘s one shot “But he was in love…”

long awaited

[mihii-i]

guys what the actual hell?

Why did I lose so many followers? If it’s because of my recent fic I will delete it and remove it from my master lists but can I have an explanation as to why I lost over 150 followers in under a few hours?

I’m not blaming anyone ily all but im just curious as to WHY I lost followers over one single fic which didn’t even contain anything problematic in it, and there’s plenty of other fics for you all to read so why focus on ONE just because it’s from a game that you don’t like?

Again I’m sorry if this came off as harsh I’m just upset and not in my right mind rn because this feels ridiculous

[burningclan]

life in Burnclan;

Daily life in Burnclan is largely nocturnal, starting at dusk and ending at dawn. It is questioned when a cat is not sleeping during daytime–as rest is needed for a cat to be their most alert. Hunting parties and patrols are sent out in the dusk and dawn, with sparse patrols in the moonlit hours.

Medicine cats are to perform rituals, sacrifices, and interpret signs from Father and those already in the Burnt Forest. They interpret prophecies, omens, and even the most innocuous dream or smallest sign–their interpretations are not to be questioned, as doing so questions Father’s choice to put them there.

Ranks are decided upon a favorable sacrifice, where signs within point to good outcomes if the cat is given this rank. Higher ranks require higher sacrifices–apprenticeships require simply a gathering of leaves from the mentor’s den. A favorable sacrifice is determined by a simple rule–the sacrifice must burn, and as such, there must be charred remains. If the fire goes out before the sacrifice is fully burned, it is up to the medicine cat to interpret this sign.

Fires are started simply by rubbing together two stones–one from deep within the medicine cave, and a regular stone taken from the leader’s den. The resulting spark must be directed towards the kindling. Three attempts at starting the fire may be made–after the third, it is called off as a failed sacrifice.

Funerals are, rather than burials, cremations–where the deceased member is burned at a larger pit slightly away from camp. It is never acceptable to leave the dead uncremated–it is dishonorable. This is, in essence, how a soul is brought to Father in the Burnt Forest. They must be released from their bodies.

Loyalty and devotion to Father are the measures by which one is a good clan member. There are ways to prove loyalty once it is questioned–but often involves some test of dedication, where the cat must harm themselves to prove their strength of will. This tradition was started by Burnstar–where when he was questioned, he would set himself on fire in a grand show of dedication, and would survive due to his nine lives. Enduring flames, as a result, and obtaining burns is one way a cat can show their loyalty.

[suscaping]

MODEL BY WALLOWS

* lyrics from the album that could be utilized for writing + plotting inspiration. listed in no particular assortment!

› would you give in or would you relent who's been trying to get in your bed? › i'd rather tell you a lie before predicting what i don't know could lead into false hope. › 'cause i know you can see we're more than a secret, you know i can be just what you want. › let's make up the best years you and i have ever had. › and i know you can see we'll have people talking, you know we can be just what they want. › are you running away from something? are you worried you're feeling nothing? › did you cross your fingers when you said forever? › does it linger when days are still young? › am i just a name you flip through in your story of people you've made to love you? › you could've given me a warning if you knew that all your walls would cave in. › and i'll come by when you don't mind, but not if it'll only waste your time. › there's a lot of things that i could tell you, but some things are left better if you never knew. › when my back’s against the wall, everything else gets stalled. › don't apologize for crying, i will always hold you space. › two more blank eyes lookin' through me, thinkin' of a place from where you maybe knew me. › if the mood's right, we'll talk all night. it might be a road to nowhere, but it's alright. › old wounds seem to open up with you. › you're what i've been chasing, show me where my days went. › can't think of the last time that i truly smiled 'til you looked up at me, could you stay a while? › i'm not in your head, can you help me understand? › do i need someone? i think about it all the time. › i'm just craving a connection, can you tell that i'm nervous just by my complexion? › i've fallen off the track, and it's harder to look back at you. › i knew the feeling would be forming after i took a look into your eyes. › just wake me up when it's over, my headache shows when it's sober. › i'll keep running until i crash into something. › is my life all wasted nights? this isn't what i had in mind. › i don't want to be forgotten, but i've been avoiding being found. › i'm hesitant to tell you something doesn't feel right. i'm nearing a collapse, but i swear that i'm intact. › maybe what i owe myself is an open heart to someone i wanna keep around.

[irladagio]

in light of my recent posts and reblogs, i really want to share my recreation of finch AND ink how it is possible that i made them to be able to be stand alone characters. finch and inks backstories. how they are interesting and how ink can be autistic without it being a terrible and rude stereotype. :) also with them being able to keep much of their og personality if you wanna even call it that.. finch, though i do ship him with hacker, does not need him to be interesting or even involved… I’m going to start with Finch (bc i love him just read my blog page..) his backstory. It’s a lot heavier than what it was made to be. As someone who is familiar with racism and has read many books on his time…I can confirm it was not “yup war and that’s it :)” no. it’s dark and traumatic and I wanna make sure I write it in that light. War/Racism/Transphobia isn’t light or easy to deal with.. and that definitely would explain his “i can’t open up because i’ll get hurt” mentality. I have so much so many extra characters that balance out the excessive amount of men in ds (i understand why tho) they’ll be his friends, subordinates, enemies? World building!!!! I headcanon that he has BDP and I am in no way a mental illness expert and I’ve actually done research like someone who wants to write a character with a condition.. but i want to be as accurate as possible, so i’ll step away from focusing on that for now. But i would basically explain how he manages it, his day to day and stuff like that. This Man Love To Dance And Write and IDC what you say people. Yeah also he’s also texan. deep south, has a slight country accent. Odessa, Texas. No changing my mind on that one either. Katja, I think i wrote a post on her um yeah more on her later. I know im mostly focusing on Finch and yeah i tend to do that i’m sorry. But what im saying is!!! I rewrote him, and I’d love to share it! (ALSO IF YOURE INTERESTED PLS MESSAGE ME, KEEPING THIS TO MYSELF IS PAINFUL AND ITS ALL I THINK ABOUT ACTUALLY..PLSSS)

obviously im not sharing the entire thing rn but whenever i have time i’ll work on the post. hopefully..🤞🏽

[mercyovalles]

open starter: no cap.

location: vibrations / can be event or non-event.

It doesn't take much for Mercy to accept a shift during the event because, well, it's not like she has anything worth rejecting for. Besides, she hardly minds it. Not only does it give her a way to preoccupy her time, but also presents her with an easier opportunity to get to know at least some of the residents that reside in this small town. Her main agenda now that she's officially settled at her apartment.

As settled as someone like Mercy could be.

Now that the current bar rush had officially come to an end, Mercy could feel her shoulders relax a little and a breath of relief slip out of her—eyes falling onto one of the remaining patrons that was still sitting by the bar.

“How much of my tip money is it gonna take to convince you to get on the dance floor?” the bartender teases, corners of her lips rising up into her usual sweet smile,  “I promise you'll enjoy yourself so much more fun out there than sittin' here watchin' me run 'round like my head is missin'.” 

[ripk0l]

If you get married, would you take your partners last name ?

question kol on relationship.

" i would. in a heartbeat, i would. i would not love for either my wife or husband to wear à name that can be sometimes heavy to bear. though, if they were a mikaelson, they would be feared. they would have anything. fear does that to people when they saw a mikaelson enters a room. "

[rzmusings]

if all my tears could be exchanged for something, i'd buy one last dance with you. i'd hire the peaceful night to make an appearance, breaking into my savings for that magic that once lay in the way you looked at me.

you would touch me the same way you did that night, gliding across my skin like it were made of petals. you would smile my favourite smile, small eyes beaming like crescent moons, and you'd whisper your love for me with the unwavering certainty you once had.

— and i would try to believe you again.

[lovelesslittleloser]

HOW DO I BE SUBTLE BUT BLATANT ABOUT THE FACT THAT THESE TWO WILL GET TOGETHER IN THE END

I don’t want to write ‘omg he’s so hot bark bark bark’ because THAT’S NOT IN CHARACTER!!! :)))

SO WTF AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!

[goldhunt]

( STAB ) standing against to mine, still with your (sender) weapon (example: dagger, sword) in mine's body. ( eheheh )

THIS SHADED LAND SEEMS NEVERENDING. sometimes he feels as if he were one of them. the groaning shades that stick to shattered places, or follow pilgrimages he cannot understand. at first he had thought they might have come here in the same manner as he. washed up in a coffin, remnants of a life that could not return to the erdtree. he has learned, since, in whispers and echoes, that they are something else entirely. that a crusade of flame swept these lands in the holy name of his revered queen, and the embers are still burning. he stepped in one once, melting his shoe, singing his flesh.

his faith is upended, strung up with the corpses that hang by the wayside, so long dead nobody remembers their names. darian, hunter of the dead, stumbles his way through the nightmare, one half of a whole, severed. the blight lives on in him. it isn't enough that it banished his soul from golden, promised rebirth, no. it writhes within him, thorns pressing forth, his mind addled. the gold and silver is lost. he wears now pieces of armour pieced together from soldiers and wanderers alike. by now, he's grown used to the sword he found. how it's slightly longer and thinner than his old one, balancing differently in his hand. his face is bare to the winds. and they see it. darian did not live for so long under the golden order to forget the recognition in even undead eyes. you are but a fraction of a whole, a shattered piece that should not be. marika's name, here, is a curse. and in the absence of her golden light, he too is cursed again.

so he stumbles, then wanders, watching, searching. for a way out, but also ... if the tides of death brought him here, would not rogier, too, have washed up?

he finds a familiar face, but not the one expected.

vyke looks different. he has never been so golden before, not even in the days where they both were under one faith, before the betrayal. he is almost radiant. had he not spoken his name, darian would never have known it to be him, clad in white and gold, familiar and yet changed. a new crest upon him, a new faith, again. not frenzied, as people whispered. alive and sane and here to touch—

it tears open an old wound barely healed. raw skin bare to the putrid, ever-burning air. in the erdtree's shadow, they meet again, and clash.

❛ you left, ❜ gasps he who was once golden, now ashen with blight and uncertainty. the hurt gushes forth, spilling into the icy pale of his eyes, into the motion that pushes him toward the other man, gripping his armour. he can't decide whether to yank him close or push him away. to kiss or to kill—he can do neither. how fell a beast love makes out of grief. ❛ without a word. as if ... as if i—we ... meant nothing at all ... ❜ they wrestle but he barely feels it. too focused on vyke right in front of him. death roars within him, his own nightmare now sharing his anger. it happens too quickly. everything too fast, a blur of angry tears and relief and ...

it feels, at first, like a punch. the blade lodged in his abdomen is hard and cold, not at all the searing agony of the thorned branches twisting their way through his flesh. it is almost merciful. when he loses his breath, everything stops.

❛ vyke— ❜

darian keeps a white-knuckled grip on the knight, a fist in his cloak, while the other hand holds his own sword limply. he still bleeds red. even in his deathless state, his blood is warm and crimson, soaking the dirty cloth and staining worn metal. he glances down between them, at the blade piercing him, connecting them. an old lover's kiss is cold. his blood spills over vyke's hand. for a moment, they are one.

surprise widens his eyes when he raises them again, seeing vyke's behind the helm clearly for the first time again. pale lashes blink slowly in shock. tongue tastes iron, the smell of his own blood. the blade holds him up. as if pinned to thin air, numb and breathless, darian doesn't even sway. ❛ vyke ... ❜ he repeats, barely a whisper. shall it be this, then? a final betrayal?

❛ what has become of you? ❜

TENSION / @lrdvyke

[desirespeaks]

I love writing traumatized characters.

One of my favorite quotes (that I'm probably misquoting) is from Maya Angelou. It's something like, "People always remember how you made them feel."

Because I'm not a sociopath like my characters, it's something I use to remind myself to always be kind to others etc IRL just as a life rule.

More importantly, when writing or developing a character, I'm actually obsessed with this in the context of trauma. Some of my narcissistic/sociopathic characters get off on the fact that they can be so cruel and heartless that their words or actions might have a lifelong effect.

For my most toxic characters, there is a sick sense of ownership they feel with this. Think, "XYZ lives rent free in my mind". (I know that is associated with things that bring joy or humour etc. But consider it for trauma.)

For a controlling character, the thought that what they did or said can affect your actions is still a way for them to control you. This is pretty common for abusive people and any therapist or psychologist will tell you that you need to work on not letting it control you anymore as you will struggle to truly move on from the person/experience/trauma. That itself can be a lifelong pursuit, which a controlling or abusive character could derive some kind of sick enjoyment from in itself, especially if the work to "move on" isn't working/has moments of relapse. An abusive person will move on if they feel like they can no longer control you. Sadly, IRL, that often ends fatally.

On a less morbid scale, it's like if you break up with someone at a museum because you told yourself you should do it in person in a safe space and not at an eatery where you might not be able to leave so easily. But despite all that it's still brutal because he begs you not to. And you leave him there crying because you are embarrassed and wanted it to be over. Some people would hate that museum now or may even be unable to visit that same spot. IRL you would hope they are able to move on and don't associate the two. But for a character, I'm really drawn to the idea of such an experience being so impactful (mostly in a negative or traumatic way) that it actually changes your life or how you interact with the world.

Obviously this is how we all go through life. We experience moments of life, both good and bad, and they shape us and impact how we live our lives. Not that revolutionary.

But for a character, I just love the idea of exploring the most fucked up experiences that impact them. Imagine for the museum break up the museum itself becomes the focus of a revenge plot as the 'scene of the crime' LOL I'm talking about the unhinged person kidnapping their ex, breaking into the museum at night, and holding them there at gun point. "This is where it happened. Do you remember what you said to me that day?" I'm obsessed already.

Another example is some sexual abuse survivors throw up or have other physical reactions if they return to the scene of their abuse. That's on the more extreme end of the trauma scale and would be hard to explore authentically in writing, especially in roleplay. But it's a good example.

On a less dramatic scale, consider just the simple instance of someone saying something offhandedly to you that might not even register as fucked up with other people, but the way it hits you in that moment at that time stays with you for years, decades, or possibly even forever. I've had this quite a lot and sometimes it has taken me months, even years to realize why it hit the way it did. Mainly because I'm curious about my own mind. Sometimes you never find out why, or worse, there's no reason at all! It's just how it hit you it at that moment in time.

Obviously this is all more relevant for sensitive characters because there are lots of types of characters who would probably not experience this kind of thing. Sometimes a bad break up at a museum or a string of hurtful words happen to you and your body/mind processes it, and lets it go. That's the goal IRL, for sure. I'm sure there are lots of sexual abuse survivors who have gone on to lead functioning and successful lives because they were able to overcome the trauma.

But in writing, "People always remember how you made them feel," is such a perfect way to add to the complexity of your muses that our words and actions can have really unintended (and long lasting) consequences, especially for emotionally sensitive characters.

[suscaping]

LOVELY LITTLE LONELY BY THE MAINE

* lyrics from the album that could be utilized for writing + plotting inspiration. listed in no particular assortment!

› do you remember the days we were golden? we would surrender to just letting go. for worse or for better. › let's fall back in love with the world and who we are, and do the things we talked about but never did before. › i like the lips you kiss with but i want to wear your lipstick, 'cause it means i got to kiss them. › you flash like a setting sun, you come around i come undone. › in this moment, i could die with you. › but i'm looking up and looking forward, there's nothing back there for you or me. › i remember feeling weightless in the deeper end, and drowning in the fear again. › and in the backseat when you asked me "is the sadness everlasting?" i pulled you closer, looked at you and said "love, i think it is." › forget the hearts and all the flowers, and we can share these clouds that i've been walking on. › i lose my voice when i look at you, can't make a noise though i'm trying to tell you all the right words. › so we speak in cursive about the way it was when days were young, but now the clock talks so loud. › i inhale you in small doses, but adore you like the roses. you're bad for me. › but believe me when i tell you "babe, you'll never be lonely." do you understand? you won't be alone again. › some say the passing of time is bittersweet, but i think i love time the most when i'm with you. › are you free or are you in sorrow? are you free or are you being borrowed?

[am4zon]

@n0thingandnobody said: you’re always late , what am i supposed to think ?

Somehow, Diana always returns when dinner has just grown cold. It matters so little how sincere her apologies are when this happens time and time again. The truth is that Steve had been a solider, and the truth is that all her allies are warriors, and the truth is that Mikey is none of those things. He fights a different variety of demons than the ones who fall from the skies. And Diana loves him for this. She loves that he does not understand her burdens. There is nothing in the world she would change about him. Or, at least, she would have said this, before seeing the look that clouds his face in this moment. It's going to haunt her for a very, very long time.

Maybe it's in her imagination, but when she locks her arms around him, he feels stiff beneath her. ❛ That I'm always racing home to be with you, baby. ❜ She tries to kiss him, but suspects that he shall deny her.

[adoresyou-a]

mirror - claire

♡ answered asks: accepting. ♡

          Her hands are pressed against the mirror, her panting breath fogging the glass with every gasp and moan.     ❛❛   Fuck, Claire,   ❜❜     She mewls, her legs spread as she arches her back, pushing Claire's fingers deeper inside Adore's velvety heat. Adore's moans escalate as the tips of Claire's fingers brush past Adore's sweet spot, making her legs quiver, her fingers curling into fists against the mirror as she cries out Claire's name. 

          Adore's eyes flutter open, and she takes note of how gorgeous her reflection looks- her curls disheveled, her cheeks flushed and rosy, and her makeup smeared... It's no surprise she looks this good in the throes of passion, but she can't help but purr with satisfaction at how good Claire looks too.

          ❛❛   Mmm, pretty girl, you look so sexy when you're fucking me...   ❜❜     She admonishes breathlessly, rocking her hips back against Claire's digits as she moans wantonly. She reaches over her shoulder, fingers tangling in Claire's hair as Adore yanks her down into a filthy kiss.