Hello! I’m a teen who loves eldritch horror, apocalyptic fantasy’s, and mecha. Nietzsche said no artist tolerates reality, and I believe all writers can resonate with that. I appreciate feedback!
Hello! I’m a teen who loves eldritch horror, apocalyptic fantasy’s, and mecha. Nietzsche said no artist tolerates reality, and I believe all writers can resonate with that. I appreciate feedback!
Under normal circumstances, a scholarship to a prestigious academy would be seen as a good thing. But for Klein Croft, it turned out to be nothing short of a death sentence.
Now, of course if he had known the truth about the Academy of Arcana, he would’ve rather slept in his shabby loft for the rest of his life than apply. The newspapers touted it as a place for “skilled individuals” seeking “ex...
The demon could no longer feel the the tips of the fingers on his stolen body. Burns and blisters climbed up his arms and torso, discoloring his pale complexion and stripping off layers of skin. His fair curls, a refined feature of the carefully chosen corpse he inhabited, now hung lifelessly, speckled with blood and snow.
Movements, he realized with a groan, were out of the question. The effects...
You cannot convince me
That poems have rules
When rhymes are suggested
And forms are just tools.
For all of the history
That poetry holds,
The classical structures
Have seem to grow old.
A free verse is nothing
But a jumbled word bomb,
Mixed with some synonyms
From thesaurus.com.
I could write “I hate my life”
To express my dismay,
While claiming it’s a poem
And you’d cry and say.
“What a m...
For what desire would you sell your soul?
***
Salvatrice meandered leisurely through the narrow streets, her footsteps drowned out by the humming town. The cobblestones, worn smooth from footsteps, absorbed the suns warmth and seeped into her skin through her sandals. Laundry and weathered fishnets billowed from the colorful buildings, dry and faded. The salty air was...
Leonard lounged languidly in the worn bergere chair, his brilliant silk robe draping to the floor, it’s edges gathering dust and neglect. In a sense, the once pristine fabric mirrored his own state of life, luxurious yet forgotten. The only visitors in recent days had been his mother who came to watch him paint, and the doctor, who spoke for a dreadfully long time about foreign sanatoriums and med...
The palace banquet hall was a tapestry of opulence, flaunting every trend and privilege the imperial family could afford. Yet, to Princess Kasumi’s discerning eyes, the grandeur of it all seemed dull, and the splendor tainted by everything that could have been finer.
The princess wore an elaborate headdress, beaded with jade and rubies that mirrored the colors of her silk robe. But compared to w...
It is natural to use gallows humor in the worst of situations. As a child, I always said a few quips before getting a few whips. As a young man, joking with my platoon on who’s wife would remarry first was as common as asking how’s the weather (it was often terrible). And even now, perhaps because of the booze, or the confidence that our lunacy will not stretch to the men in black suits, I casuall...
Sora could explain when the Prime Minister would die, and who would succeed. She could know the numbers to the lottery, and what scratch tickets would make her a fortune. And if it weren’t for the damn books rules, she would have found all this out already.
[How to torture a book]
•Advice in writing torture scenes?
•How to write painful torture scenes.
•The writer guide to torture!
“Your not ...
I am, in the way of most men, filled with stupid curiosity. I stare at ponds and question where the water comes from. I hear the sweet songs of a young harpist and ponder if they’ll live long enough to become a legend in their own right. And when I’m lonely and debauched during golden hours, I look up at the heavens and wonder what we did to deserve angels and saints. Or better yet, what do they t...
If I told you the gods chosen one is a fucking coward, would you believe me?
Sure, I've slain demons and whatnot for a decade. But let's face it, at the end of the day, I'm untouchable. There's no valor in a hero who has nothing to lose, just as there’s no value in a god who won’t keep his damn word.
“El!” Ren bellows, bursting into the room, armed with two pistols and a bag overflowing with ...