#eli writes stuff

[diwooc]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I forgot to advertise here too!

I wrote some ArleFuri over on a03! Mind the tags!

[rose-thorns-corner]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Grotto (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: David/Matt (The Grotto) Characters: Matt (The Grotto), David (The Grotto) Additional Tags: Guilt, Matt (The Grotto) Has ADHD, I will die on that hill, this takes place probably a couple days after the second hospital visit but before episode 7, attempted to write this in a similar style/format to actual episodes of The Grotto

[clumsyclouds]

loneliness

i feel so cripplingly lonely. when did every love song that i used to relate to become so meaningless? i've never been loved in the way that either makes you euphoric or heartbroken i only crash and burn and hurt and throw away i used to love so many people, note the past tense today i feel empty, i have no one to call my own, or someone that sees me as special in a way it makes sense, i used to love everyone, i used to feel so deeply about everyone that i was blind to how they felt about me i feel so unbelievably lonely because i see the truth now i am special to no one, no one is number one and slowly i realise that my emotions are dulling too, i don't love as hard, i don't hug as tight, my grip has weakened these are the thoughts that keep me up at night when the moon is out of sight and the stars are weak weak i am weak i am careful, wary of the words i use, just so they can't be used against me i refuse to say i will never love again but i don't see how it could be i am perhaps correction: probably undeserving of emotion and love maybe someone will fall in love with me what a poor soul, i hope someone saves them from their delusion don't they know? can't they see? i don't relate to love songs, even if i wish i did, i hope they know i used to salvation is too late, maybe i'll at least live the rest of my life in soothing loneliness then again, i've never enjoyed my own company ___________________________________________ reblog if you want? it would be pretty nice, idk what these things are even, but this is my second thingy, i'll reblog the other, so yeah, enjoy? or think? idk im just saying shit tbh

[rose-thorns-corner]

snippet from a fic i’m working on

“Of course, Juno, although I did skip eating so I could get to on time, so perhaps we could go to a restaurant first?” Juno threw a box of cold, leftover takeout at him.

[clumsyclouds]

clutter

im a writer

not a poet

so how do the words come out more lyrical

than sensible

 i know nothing of the poet world

yet my mind is jumbled, full of feelings and nonsense but the only words i find are

 stars

 and

 constellations

 oh please, thats kindergarten poetry

is my mind not more mature?

the things i feel are not for children

 but then why do the letters come out so juvenile?

 why and but, yet and how

stop the contradictions and questions,

you know

stop

stop

stop

you know

 i got anger, because my brain is not functioning and there is yet another cliché

i stole words from another persons poem, because i feel what they feel

 i shouldnt be allowed my own original ideas, i dont use them very much

 clichés make me frustrated because i try to be better than that

i want to move away from clichés

because

 i am not

a cliché

 then again, perhaps that is exactly what i am

 everyone is different today, so do i have to be the same to avoid cliché?

must i blend into the many? the gray mass?

must i be a part of the class my teacher thought of as a gray nothingness? that no one really remembered?

walking around the halls like zombies,

i remember them, because i worry that i am like them, yet, i also strive to be them,

why?

it is in hopes of becoming different than the rest of the world

 this clutter of words and thoughts is not the same as what it started as

i forgot, and edited and the train of thought left the station and became something else

 i think i found the point.

--------------------------------------

yeah i wrote a poem or, something, what is a poem? it is supposed to be whatever you define it as, but thats not true, so, appreciate it? i dunno, i would be happy for a reblog or some sort of acknowledgement that its been seen, sometimes i feel alone on here, which is silly, and ill stop talking

reblog pls, if you want

thanks

bye

[pollyanna-666]

Unfinished thing I'm writing

cw: bullying, dissociation, fear

don't know how Amira does it.

Not be afraid of them, I mean.

She tells us just to pretend that they don't exist and that everything is totally and completely fine.

But when He stands in front of me, knuckles cracking and cronies laughing, it's impossible to do anything but cower.

And I can't hear anyone right now, which terrifies me even more. I'm all alone facing the people I fear most in the world, and I have no way to escape, nobody to get me out of this situation. I want to get out. I need to get out.

I can't, though. I can't do anything. Except feel.

Feel my terror, feel my heart pounding, feel my hands shaking, in this horrible moment.

He takes a step forward now and yanks me towards him by my right arm.

"I thought I told you to stay out of my way, Chloe," He says, and I flinch.

Chloe is not my name. It's none of our names. Even those of us who are feminine hate that name. Because it's not who we are, and it never has been.

Chloe is...

I can't even say it.

Why can't I say it anymore?

...

Right. They're not here right now. I'm by myself.

"—HEY! Are you listening to me?"

Stumbling backwards, I realize He just shoved me.

I'm on the ground now.

My elbow feels like it's scraped on the concrete, but I don't feel any pain.

I don't even understand anything that's going on around me anymore. It's all turning into darkness and I know that I'm retreating into The Darkness. Not again.

[rose-thorns-corner]

so i write shit for my dnd characters (well. my dnd character and a npc me and the dm/my personal friend @wobblystrawberry share custody over) and i thought i might as well post some of it here and add context for the characters later

anyways enjoy!

Tyr sat a foot across from Nyx on the window ledge of Nyx’s room. The moonlight poured in through the glass panes, offering a decent amount of visibility, and forcing him to see it: the genuine happiness in Nyx’s eyes as Tyr cracked a small joke about one of Nyx’s “fellow council members”. Their mind wanders to the memories of the time when he only referred to Nyx as “Councilmember Nureyev”, and in all fairness, that’s still what Tyr should be calling Nyx, “respecting your superiors” and all that, but that was the thing wasn’t it: Nyx wasn’t a superior to Tyr anymore, not in either of their minds, Tyr reckoned.

Tyr realizes that he’s somehow memorized which eye colors of Nyx’s correspond to which emotions, even if around Tyr, Nyx takes the chance not around the other Council members to keep xyr hair in front of xyr eyes, covering their give-away. Tyr knew not to take it personally, that Nyx deserved to keep something personal and private, that the real enemy here was the Council, and just like that, Tyr had to remind themself to breathe, as to not grow furious; they didn’t want to spend their last few moment with Nyx like that.

A few hours pass and Nyx is leaning back into Tyr, letting Tyr unbraid and rebraid his hair as he rambles about something, but all Tyr can think about is how goddamn tender the moment is, and how much it’ll hurt the both of them when he leaves the Council the very next day.

Another hour passes, and the two are snuggling together, Nyx laying on top of Tyr and probably half asleep at this point. The two locked drowsy eyes for a moment, and Tyr genuinely considers falling apart and telling Nyx everything: the complications with Councilman Smith confiding in Tyr with confidential information, how horrible the Council really was, how the only way for Tyr —or either of them, really— to leave the Council was to be banished, and the only way to be banished was essentially to commit a felony, and his exact plan to do so. Tyr wanted to beg Nyx to leave with him, but months ago, they’d come to the conclusion that doing that would doom the plan to failure.

First and most obviously, Nyx was very high profile, as a member of the Council, and this case would probably already get a lot of attention, but looping in a council member would make it infinitely harder to hide.

Secondly, Tyr knew Nyx. By all hell, he shouldn’t know him, he shouldn’t have gotten so close to them, but here they were. Nyx, against all odds, was a good person and had a strong moral code (maybe that’s why Tyr loved him) and she would never be able to go through with Tyr’s plan.

Finally, the reason that hurt the most, Nyx was so deeply brainwashed by the Council, taught by hypocrites that they must obey every single rule and etiquette, and so if Tyr made his proposal, he knew that Nyx wouldn’t be able go against the lessons so deeply ingrained in their mind, not yet at least.

Tyr would’ve been a liar if they said they weren’t considering kissing Nyx; he was most likely never going to see him again, and they knew how much they’d regret it if they didn’t at least ask.

But it wasn’t worth having everything when he was going to lose it all, not even a day later.

It wasn’t worth ripping the rug right from under Nyx the next day.

————-

Tyr figured out when he first started creating his plan that it would have to happen in broad daylight. He couldn’t risk a reduced sentence from whoever claiming that “it was an accident” or that he “couldn’t see where he was going”; that would get him imprisoned rather than banished, no it had to be undeniably on purpose. It also had to happen early, so Tyr could get the hell away from the Council as soon as possible.

There was just one thing to take care of first.

Tyr knew Nyx wouldn’t be in his room at that time, that xe was probably eating breakfast or getting a head start on work right then, making it the perfect time to leave the letter on the windowsill: the spot that was just the two of theirs.

Tyr twisted the doorknob. It didn’t budge. Something in Tyr’s brain froze when they fully processed the fact that the door was locked. He very nearly fell to his knees in tears.

That was it. The only chance Tyr had at convincing Nyx not to hate him forever. For Nyx to understand why they had to and know how much Tyr cares about her.

He couldn’t have just left the letter at the door; as horrible as the other Council members were, they were sly, cunning, and observant, would find the letter first, and would find some way to use it against Nyx. Nyx had told him how early in their time in the Council, Councilwoman Grace had cared for them, gained their trust, and when Nyx finally opened up to her, she had betrayed that trust, using it against them during a Council session. Nothing good would come out of Tyr leaving the letter right there.

Tyr wiped the tears from his eyes, and felt his heart shatter a bit as he put the letter back into his pocket and pulled out the car keys.

[rose-thorns-corner]

First chapter of my jupeter vampire x vampire hunter fic “To Draw Blood From Steel” is out!!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works