Writing - Blog Posts
child of grey
My father was of ebony. My mother of ivory I am the child of grey. Not enough ebony to be of my father To little ivory to be with my mother
My heart was of half-ice. A cold so unfeeling So a cold almost to the point of burning, never enough feeling to care my head half of snakes calculating and cruel always planning and waiting for the perfect moment to strike
My heart is made of half gold. Tender and caring beautiful and full of love, perfect to suit you my head half made of fire burning hot, always craving for something to fuel it unpredictable and starving for its next game
I am the child of grey. With the head of flame and scales calculating and unpredictable, Ready to strike and always to keep you on edge. And my heart of ice and gold blinding you with its beauty, while slowing killing you with its burning ice
i love you
I have loved you since We were young. barely old enough to even understand what love even was. the feeling of pure and utter devotion I had felt for you before I fully realized How much love would ruin me. How much it would kill me Tearing me apart, never letting me go Stealing away my heart, never giving it back
be proud
You tell me to SPEAK UP. To be "proud of my words" Let them out into the world. Stand behind them, ready to defend them with my life. And my entire being and soul
but how am I supposed to be "proud" of my words when I haven't even learned how to be proud of my self
how am I supposed to be "proud" Of these words I say. When I've learned that they don't even matter They get shot down and ignored. Before they even got the chance to be spoken.
How am I supposed to be "proud" when I've seen how you react To the thoughts, I've put out. Putting my heart and soul into them and then getting to watch you kill them
to the sea
Take me to the sea. Where the air is crisp, and the smell of salt clings to it. Where the winds pull in the sound of the waves to the shore where I can finally hear them calling my name begging me to join them begging me to follow them into the deepest depths
Take me to the cliffs. where I can see the whole world in front of me with the deep sapphire sea stretching out to the horizon where it finally ends on the cliffs where the winds whip around me whispering those words of encouragement beckoning me to the edge telling me to take those last few steps To let those jagged rocks at the bottom welcome me home.
Take me to the forest. Where the trees swallow all the light leaving only the darkness to call my name inviting me to explore The air seems to be alive, swirling around me. Calling to me telling me to rest coaxing me to let the darkness and all the creatures in To let them devour me, control me. To guide me and welcome me home
haunted
I can still feel your fingers drifting down my skin as I still sit here after what seems like hours later they crawl down my neck, and back up my arms, through my hair. While your words, echo in through my ears with subtle warnings and orders no to be crossed.
dear adora, from elliott
To the little girl, I used to be do you remember all those nights when you would stay awake Thinking and dreaming up all those far away hopes and dreams You would stare up at the ceiling planning out how you would do it all
All those late nights Planning on how you would save the day Becoming that perfect superhero Swooping in to rescue everyone, Saving all the kittens from trees, Putting out fires Freeing your family from that living nightmare they would never wake from
Remember all those promises you would use to make Between you and the world outside that shitty apartment window Telling yourself it would get better, rehearsing it so much it was branded in your heart and brain Telling yourself those thoughts would go away That you could wake up And be the perfect daughter You would wake up and be a girl and believe it Your body would no longer feel so wrong
Spending all those nights and early mornings Praying to that god you were so hopelessly clinging to Begging him to make it all make sense Those thoughts stuck circling in your head All the worries and fears that had kept piling up Tangling themselves together
What would you think of me now if you saw who you became Would you be proud? Proud that I finally found myself That I had finally realized who I was Would you be happy? Happy that I had made it this far, Being able to finally make it to sixteen, even though you didn’t?
I guess you had been right when you thought you wouldn’t make it For me to make it, you had to die That I had to kill everything that you were Stealing away your name Cutting off those long curly locks, everyone had adored scarring that beautiful skin, that used to be your pride and joy
mama don’t you know
Mama, don’t you know your little baby is sitting in their room? Crying their eyes out screaming for help Screaming for you to help them Begging for you to love them for who they are
Mama, can’t you see the way they're pleading? How their pleading for you to love them For you to finally tell them they're good enough For you to please noticed this once how much they need you.
Mama, do you ignore the blank stares and the emptiness? The way they wear barcodes on their body How no matter how much they try, they can't get you to love them
Mama, do you ignore all the blood and tears? Pretending you don't hear them crying out at night Acting like you don't notice the blood and bandages.
Mama do you spend your days looking for new ways to hurt them? You filled their heart with all your spite and hatred. Poisoning your little baby before they had a chance to grow Making them believe they were a weed Never let them be able to believe in anything else.
the bathroom
Smoke flows from my cracked and bloody lips the dingy bathroom lights flicker above me a low buzz echos through the room my reflection stares back at me a sly smirk gracing its lips I can almost hear its laugh echoing in my head. The cold porcelain of the sink pulsing against the rising heat of my hands dirt and grime caked on to the counter and mirror the buzzing of the lights mixes with the pounding of my head Voices and conversations outside the door seem to grow in volume. pounding against my eardrums All the noise seems to be surrounding me. Building up and building up my reflections laughter ringing in my ears the lights buzzing and flickering The mirror starts cracking. Sounds of glass falling and shattering mix with the symphony of noise The class finally shatters falling all around me. Knocking on the door starts. The pounding and shaking of the door mixes with the calls of my name It sounds like I'm underwater. The door and the voice feeling so far away while I'm sinking farther down in my head finally, I snap back I'm in the bathroom. the mirrors still intact no longer shattered lights buzzing no longer deafening My fingers loosen their grip on the sink. The reflection no longer laughing and taunting My legs start working. Uprooting themselves from the floor the sound of my footsteps echo against the walls
side show mirrors
You call me an attention whore. Only because my heart screams out for any type of love something you never gave look me in the eyes. And tell me. "I'm always craving attention." All I could do was Laugh. what you call craving attention I call a cry for help. Haven't you noticed that? You never taught me. how to ask for help
Anger feels like a sharp green. It lives in the eye of a snake ready to strike. Sharpening its tongue using it as a knife Ready to lash out and wound. Anger is locked in the eyes. Constantly watching and waiting to attack
Yellow is the color of safety. It warms like the sun's rays. Surrounding me. Being a beacon in the dark It's soft and shining in contrast, to angers hard sharpness Safety is free to roam. It finds those in need and makes them safe.
Fear is the darkest blue of the ocean. Primal, cold and harsh Running parallel to anger. Fear stalks its prey, Watching and waiting to strike. never hesitating, always ready. Waiting to cover you in its shallow depths pulling you under like a riptide Devouring you in its purest form
im still losing it over the "how did high schoolers write 600 word essays before chatgpt" post. 600 words. that is nothing. that is so few words what do you mean you can't write 600 words. 600 words. this post right here is 45 words.
my anger
my anger is a cigarette with every hit, it pulls me in the rage fills my lungs like smoke killing me a little each time disdain exhaling like smoke disgust clinging like the smell of stale cigarette contempt lingers in my mouth and on my tongue like the bitterness of menthol repulsion circling around the air, smothering those around me like the smoke
her cravings
The girl craved depravity. She loved it in her twisted way. Loved how it made her feel The way it felt as the darkness consumed her. How it crept through her veins stealing its way into her heart making it's self its own little home inside her heart. Whispering their tales of the demented and cursed screaming the depths of its madness into her heart. Corrupting her, molding her, stealing her Twisting her into a demented shell of her once pure self.
darling
Darling, I see your eyes sparkle with the light of a thousand stars They shine light in my darkest night. Darling, I see the gold in your veins It glows with the ichor of our old gods. Dripping down your fingertips From the gashes, you made into them. Darling, I see the night sky in your hair the way it shines and moves with the utter darkness of the stars darling, I see the sea in your mind the way your mood changes like the tides You rage like the sea. And you hold your desire like the sea holds the creatures.
take me
Take my lungs. watch me as I slowly. Gasp for breath. Have me begging for air. while I slowly start to suffocate my lungs start to cave
Take my bones. replace them with glass. watch me as I shatter and break. look at the crystal stained crimson step on me while I'm already breaking listen to the music of my whimpers of pain, mixing with the sound of shattering glass
. . .
Where are the cameras?
WHERE THE F**** ARE THE CAMERAS??
HOW DARE YOU TO KNOW ABOUT THIS SIDE OF US FANFIC WRITERS >>>>>:(((((
me writing the worst paragraph of my life knowing that a sexier, more hydrated version of me will fix it later
reblog if you believe fanfic writers are as valid and talented as any professional writer who publishes and sells their novels
I’m trying to prove a point
![Close up cartoon image of a person smiling tightly, absolutely gritting their teeth and staring a thousand yard stare in pain and realisation. The meme is captioned: Me planning out a fic and realising it's probably going to [be] 20+ chapters.](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3886f8bb79495e76b93727a1983da4ba/aa46b5160affae19-5b/s500x750/c41453f49a10f8c54841615f2ee209dbf12fb818.jpg)
I’m not a perfectionist, but finding a typo or a grammatical error in my own already-published fic is like stepping on a Lego honestly
𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡. 𝟏𝟎 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐀
The Wyvern, a magnificent creature with its sleek, serpentine head and a menacing hiss, was determined to escape the encroaching civilization. Its two powerful forearms clung to the walls as it scaled with its rough, twelve-meter-long body covered in earthy brown scales. Four clawed legs supported its weight as it traversed the urban landscape, its thin, leathery wings allowing it to glide over chasms and obstacles. These wings, when not in use, revealed the wyvern's rugged, flexible skin along its forelegs and ribs. Along its spine, a striking crest of bristly, vibrant red fur added to its camouflage in the crimson forests, making it nearly invisible among the foliage.
Adorned with a wooden mask resembling a barn owl, the figure confidently taunted the pursuing guards, their heart-shaped face pale with buff and grey colouring, large forward-facing eyes, and a painted downward-pointing bill. They sat astride on the wyvern, the dark beige panelled skirt reaching their knees and paired with black tights, black boots, and sage green leg warmers trimmed with white fur. Their sage green top boasted long semi-bell sleeves, complementing skintight black fingerless gloves that stretched up to their elbows. An umber brown waist-length poncho, adorned with feathers matching the mask, completed their ensemble. Their untamed black hair was woven into a thick braid, and adorned with small golden bell earrings on their semi-exposed ears.
Behind the mask, a pair of concentrated eyes flicked to the side, catching sight of others aligned with their cause. Their previous taunting expressions transformed into looks of determination as they raised a finger towards the guards, tracing an intricate spell in the air. As the spell took shape, plumes of fire spiralled out from the centre of the circle, effectively halting the advance of the plague-masked guards.
The air was split by a piercing whistle, causing everyone to turn and see another of the masked companions motioning urgently as the beastly demon hurtled towards the ground with sinuous grace. As they looked ahead, they were stunned to see familiar figures a few yards away—the residents of the Owl House, deep in conversation and oblivious to the danger. Taking a deep breath, the person ran their hand along the sleek fur of the Stokala, suppressing a yelp as it vaulted over the residents, soaring briefly through the air. They saluted the residents as time seemed to slow, eliciting stunned looks in return before the beast accelerated and disappeared around the corner.
note. yes, I did use the yaelokre aesthetic/character design for some elements in my book; credit is provided and I will include the link to the one I used
The reason I wrote this book is my love for the series, along with a small idea of sharing my thoughts on other series through writing. While some may find it unusual, I genuinely enjoy taking the time to work on chapters and review my writing to ensure it flows smoothly.
Feel free to read this only if you are curious; negativity and hate comments will not be tolerated.
Clover 🍀
she/her | 20 | OP | DCMK | BSD
All fics under #cloverwrites
Hi! This is my new account (the old one had visibilty issues which should be fixed now (hopefully))
These are all my platforms: Fics: AO3: @Clover1412 Wattpad: @BlackClover1412 Fanfiction.net: @Clover1412
Social Media: Twitter: @Clover1412__ Email: cloverwrites1412@gmail.com
(All links under this)
https://www.fanfiction.net/u/15045705/Clover1412
If anyone has any tips for writing an ai3 fanfic about a group of closeted gays trying to come out to the world while proving that being gay isn’t bad while they are suffering from depression and other mental illnesses and being bullied I would love them please
This is a collaboration with @sopapilla11 check out her ao3 it’s the same user
The problem with starting an intensive writing project and an intensive coloring project is both needing huge amounts of time and the ability to lock in, but me being indecisive and then working on neither.
Had to share this here too and not just with my friends. Like, what the heck is this?
Chat,
I have a question.
I have been on archive for about a decade but i have never written anything in a series (the hyperfixations usually wear off too fast)
However!
I have some malevolent ideas I'd like to write and i could string them together into one big story. But I only have semblances of events and nothing really coherent between them. I could just have the chapters have weird time jumps and stuff between them. Or I could just write each scenario as it's own thing and then string them together in a series and hope it resembles a story.