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i love reading fics or toxic yaoi related media and in the background i have blasting the most bubbling pop songs. i’m dabbling in a stobotnik fic right now and i just heard “kiss kiss fall in love” and it woke me up.

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i love reading fics or toxic yaoi related media and in the background i have blasting the most bubbling pop songs. i’m dabbling in a stobotnik fic right now and i just heard “kiss kiss fall in love” and it woke me up.

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PSA: Writing a book can take a looooong time. If you've been working on your project for a year, two years, five years... you're not doing anything wrong. If you've written three drafts and thrown them all away, if you can only write a hundred words a day, if you put your book down for six months and pick it up again only to be baffled by what you've written... Congratulations. You're not inefficient or slow. You're just a writer. Welcome to the writing life.

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i love how my brain slowed down a couple of decades, fandom wise, in 2025. madoka magica, wwdits, fnaf lore, sonic, mlp infection aus anything from 2016 up till now. i just receeded like 10 years, became younger and more internet free

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i have been plagued by the writing gods with the most annoying writers block ever had, and yesterday i managed to pull 1.7k pure fluff out of my ass, and so i will post soon

i think…

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its me and my ocs against the world ( only in my mind’s eye can i see them and no one can tear them away from me)

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reading fan fiction while walking on the street is the equivalent of being y/n and reading a book at a concert

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this year will be the year all of the depressed lana del rey lolita fans will become obsessed with medieval aesthetics and angelic representation i swear it

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i did four personality tests and should i be surprised that for each and every one i got a character thats an overachiever misunderstood genius that does much worse because he think he is doing good?

the results you may ask? well…

thistle from dunmeshi, viktor from arcane, percy from vox machina and donatello from tmnt.

should i even pe surprised that i got basically the same person different font?

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CHAPTER 7 - The whisper of darkness is becoming louder

Back in the kingdom of Basineth, Eagan was pacing back and forth in the large hallway of the royal palace. King Cradoc was in a meeting, but still, with all the calls he received from the starving people and the poor provisions of the soldier, he wanted to meet with Eagan. The sheer importance of this meeting was making Eagan question every action he made since Lyber’s departure a few days ago. The King was aware of the society of the Cloaks, but if they operated in the eye of the public, they might need to disband the association. 

The door cracked open and from inside, a footman whispered slowly to Eagan that he could come in. The silver doors opened, and just as he was about to enter, with his eyes cast to the carpeted floor, Eagan was pushed and almost knocked to the floor. The man that just left the throne room was mumbling curses under his breath, damning the kingdom in the fires of the Hells, and didn’t even acknowledge the soldier as he exited the castle. 

Looking back over his shoulder, Eagan saw the man wearing court attire, bearing around his neck a big and heavy golden chain with the crest of one of the royal families. The man clutched it tightly as he passed by, and from the looks of it, the trade between the royal court members was starting to diminish with the coming war. 

Heeding no more to the thought of royal pettiness and squabbles between fat bellied entitled lords, Eagan resumed his thoughts about the matter at hand. He walked into the throne room with stiff shoulders and tense muscles, his jaw clenching in anticipation. He kneeled before the throne, not daring to meet the eye of his King, and then slowly stood up, his gaze still cast upon the floor. 

“My dear Eagan, why do you look so grim? In these times I do so miss the laughter in my court,” said Cradoc, his tone calm, but laced with an almost indistinguishable frustration. As he finally raised his head from the ground, Eagan could see the fatigue in his monarch’s eyes, his features plagued by a tiredness and sadness never before seen in his eyes. King Cradoc was still young, of only thirty four years of age, but the sight of war had deteriorated his mellow exterior, made him more rough and sombre.

To his right, a hand on the back of the throne, standing straighter than a spear was a dragonborn. It looked like a soldier, its scales being littered with scars, and it wore an armour of dark steel, and at its hip bore a curved blade. Eagan could feel its sharpness only by looking at it. The sight of the dragonborn rattled the soldier, and concern could be read on his face. As it was his instinct, Eagan put a hand on the handle of his sword in anticipation.

“I have called upon you to ask about your assignment,” said Cradoc. Though his tone was calm, a seriousness could be detected. The King was expecting progress and haste, but that was unfortunately the biggest lack in Eagan’s tasks. Time was of the essence.

“Your majesty, my men departed only yesterday. They shall reach the port at the end of the month if they hurry,” he said. His gaze darted between the King and the stranger. It wasn’t known for dragonborns or yuan-ti to grace the lands ruled by men. All races were welcome in Basineth, but with the war clinging to the border of the kingdom, the people fled, looking for peaceful lands in Drausalsa. There was no stable monarchy in that land, and the horrors of battle haven’t yet grazed the kingdom. And yet, right there before him stood the soldier. The dragonborn’s eyes were filled with interest and curiosity.

“Pardon my boldness, your majesty, but is it in order for a stranger to be present when discussing the good of our kingdom?” asked the man.

“Be not afraid of our ally, Eagan. This is Sathryn. In the last battle, he aided me and my men. He has powerful knowledge of our enemy, and I have appointed him to help with our battle plans.”

At the sound of his name, the dragonborn stepped down from the pedestal and faced Eagan. Sathryn was taller, his scales of a dark grey and eyes of the deepest shade of green. They reminded the soldier of the trees in the forest where he used to hunt, the smell of pine and vegetation and the thrill of the unknown that awaited behind the curtain of timber. Eagan shaked his head with a short nod, as if to eradicate his thoughts, returning to the task at hand. 

Sathryn approached confidently, a smile adorning his scared face. He held out his hand, waiting for Eagan to shake it. In a moment of hesitation, the soldier wavered, keeping still, but he did not want to make his King see the mistrust, and so he shaked the dragonborn’s hand. Eagan raised his head to analyse the newest addition to the list of allies. He could not tear his eyes away from the pink slash mark that littered his right cheek, a permanent memory of the battlefield. 

As the King sighed, Eagan regained focus and let go of the dragonborn, looking back at his King for guidance. He did not want to go against the words of Cardoc, but trust was something that was not easy to earn these days. The dark armour the dragonborn wore reminded the soldier of all the hordes of orcs and ogres he had to defeat when he met with Kanaan’s armies.

“I want Sathryn to join the Crimson Cloaks. He has spent a great deal of time next to me and I truly believe he will be of help to us. He indeed has agreed to become part of the society, but only if you were aware of it,” said Cardoc. He was requesting Eagan to consider him as a new member, but truly, he was ordering the soldier to accept this change. 

“My liege, I trust your guidance, but I do not know if a stranger should know our plans,” started Eagan, but was soon interrupted by the King.

“As a leader to my people and King of this country, I would advise against standing up to my counsel, dear soldier. Sathryn has provided me with information I would have not acquired elsewhere,” Cardoc said roughly. The frustration has risen and Eagan could tell that he has already reached a decision. It was no time for petty arguments, and the kingdom needed all the help it could get. 

The soldier bowed to the King, and as he stood up, Eagan looked at the dragonborn. His features showed no emotion, but his eyes sparkled in amusement and interest. The King requested that the quarters of the society should be shown to Sathryn, and that he should be informed of all the plans made up to date. Eagan, though bitterly unsatisfied by his new tasks to tour around a new recruit, could not help his curiosity. What was this dragonborn bringing to the table? More bloodshed or a chance at peace.

As he turned around to leave, he could feel Sathryn’s eyes burrowing in his back. They both stepped out of the throne room, going into the enormous hallway that was full of tapestries and golden armours. As soon as the footmen closed the heavy silver doors, Eagan turned to the dragonborn and faced him, a hand pointing in the middle of his plated chest. 

“Listen, I don’t know how you came about in the King’s life, but the safety of my people is my number one priority, and so help me the gods if you dare to put anyone in harm's way I will make sure you will wish you were never born,” he spat, but Sathryn smiled at him, only adding fuel to the fire.

“I am sure you want all the best for the King and country, but the way you flare up is just adorable. Trust me, I have nothing but the best intentions, and I swore an oath to King Cardoc,” he said, the scar on his cheek elongating and stretching along with his smile. The light that shined from outside illuminated his sharp teeth, only adding to the distrust in Eagan’s heart. 

The soldier turned his back, walking away to the secret entrance of the sewers. He could not hear a second pair of steps behind him, and at first felt relieved, but the pained and tired face of his ruler plagued his mind like a ghost, and so, looking back in the long hall, he met the eyes of the dragonborn, and curtly shaked his head, a sign for him to follow. 

'tis finished!! hi, so this took a while to upload and as i said, school is sending me in a huge writing slump, but i will be back after things slow down

bye!

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most important part of the writing process actually is when you loop a single song on max volume and stare at the word document and imagine the characters doing things for 14 hours. this is known as getting in the zone

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Through gritted teeth: my first draft is allowed to be awful. My first draft is allowed to be awful. My first draft is allowed to be awful.

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the demons won. the voices got too loud. im writing a fic with them.

as much as lotr is my favourite thing in this entire mortal plane, my first love were the hobbit movies. and i believe i am not the first one to say that THRANDUIL AND BARD DESERVED SOME MORE SCREEN TIME and that they may or may not have had some passionate nights on the eve of the battlefield.

just saying

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not to derail the low income writer thing, but I’ve actually had this discussion before, many times, in smaller writing circles, with how so much of the current writing and publishing “climate” does not adhere nor even acknowledge how difficult writing (or any creative outlet tbh) can be for people to pursue - even as a hobby - when your energies are sapped into simply surviving, into struggling through life, working full-time, perhaps even balancing multiple jobs, or care-giving children, elderly or sick family, with little to show for it beyond the absolute minimum. how the current economic living crisis has been inevitably crushing creatives, and potential creatives, when there are so many limitations, not just financially, but in time and in energy

advice akin to “those who want to write will find the time” is insulting to those who are already running ragged just trying to get by, whether due to jobs, brain fog, illness or a combination of all the above and more. “get up earlier or stay up later” doesn’t take into consideration how much people are already sacrificing everywhere else. how out of touch a lot of it is, mostly offered by those who are already successful, or from those who have the luxury of time

most low income writers are self-publishing their work already prepared for a significant loss, after cover art, marketing budgets, editing etc, and so, some low income writers will never be able to justify self-publishing at all. and money aside, other avenues aren’t exactly easy either, patreon subscribers, for example, look for discord access, social media presence, weekly or bi-weekly updates, asking for more time and more energy from the author. simply the way readers engage now, expecting immediate sequels, long series, multiple books published a year, constant engagement, this entire set-up is making it almost impossible for low income writers to keep up, and it goes way beyond the monetary limitations. 

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as much as lotr is my favourite thing in this entire mortal plane, my first love were the hobbit movies. and i believe i am not the first one to say that THRANDUIL AND BARD DESERVED SOME MORE SCREEN TIME and that they may or may not have had some passionate nights on the eve of the battlefield.

just saying

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i was on the bg3 wiki looking for info on bhaal and dare i say i laughed when i saw this

this will be my portfolio for when i apply to college.