piece of a story

It is different now. We don’t talk. We don’t smile at each other. And the thing is that I am happy we stopped pretending. Because things were bad for so long but we acted as if nothing was wrong. And I think we both wanted to be happy and the only way for that to be possible was if we both went our separate ways.
—  ck.writes (on Instagram) // we were both looking for happiness
Things that know one should ever know.

There are things said only behind locked doors, miles away from any church, surrounded by salt and iron and lambs blood.
These things are only said in whispers, sentences trailing off and words cut short by hushing.

These things are only known by the small group of theology majors who managed to piece together the stories scattered about history in dust caverns and dead languages.

These things are only sought out by those few stupid, brave souls who crave the truth.

As you sit surrounded by a ring of hellfire and salt, as you strain to hear the nearly silent words falling from the mouth of the person next to you, you will begin to understand why this secret is buried so deep.

When the person who told you disappears, you understand completely.

You’ll never be able to relax on campus again, once you hear these stories. Somehow the Gentry will know -how could you even begin to think that the would never know? They will avoid you, as long as you never speak to them.

They will only watch, as long as you never speak. There is always price for knowledge, know matter how it is obtained.

What could be this devastatingly powerful? What could drive you away from the major you once loved, the church you once venerated? What is the one thing that will make all Gentry fear and despise you?

A true name.

There is a reason the history of the Nephilim is so vague.


anonymous asked:

do you have any writing tips? for someone who dares to post but doesn't have a lot of feedback? it's a bit demotivating :( I am asking you because your writing is amazing!

thank you nonny! I’m touched you like my work :) I’m going to split this reply into three parts: 1) fandom feedback, 2) writing growth, and 3) writing tips. maybe this is more than you wanted but it’s how I roll. under the cut because words, words, words!

Keep reading

A little Story

This awesome piece is done by @iluvharrypotterr a spectacular writer!

‘She is so beautiful.’ I wish I could say that to her, but I can’t.
Everything about her is beautiful.
From her long brown hair to her perfectly polished nails. Every day, when I see her, she smiles at me, shows off whatever outfit she is wearing, but then stops. A frown replaces her perfect smile. Some days, this doesn’t happen, and her smile never leaves, but some days, she starts throwing insults at me. She stares at me, long and hard, her blue eyes filling with tears. I don’t know why she does this, but it hurts me, it hurts me because I love her but she doesn’t love me. Today is one of those days. She stares at me, glaring, pure hatred is all I see in her eyes.

“Ugly.” she suddenly states. “That’s all you are. Fat, ugly, stupid and annoying.” As the words leave her mouth, I wish I didn’t love her. ‘How could she be so cruel?’
 The rest of the week follows, the same thing happens. She looks at me with a smile, one that could light up the room, then suddenly her mood will swing and she will hate me. I wish I knew why she hated me, but, after today, I don’t believe I will ever know that answer. She is crying waterfalls. I want to hug her, tell her everything is alright, but I can’t. She looks at me, stares deep into my soul and just glares.
‘What did I do wrong? Please, tell me.’ She kneels to the ground and laughs quietly.
Normally I would love her laugh, but not this one. This laugh is different. Usually, her laugh sounds angelic, like a melody, her laugh is my favorite thing to listen to. Right now, her laugh is…sad, almost painful.
Her body quivers with each little chuckle. Her head faces the floor, her arms wrapped around her stomach. She sits up and looks at me again. Her eyes are red and puffy, her cheeks are wet and she looks miserable.
“You are worthless,” she says. “You will never be good enough for anyone.” She slowly stands up, her legs wobbly and a sad smile on her face. She looks away from me and walks over to her desk. She picks up a rock, that she had been using as a paperweight, and she turns back around to me. Her tears flow faster down her face.

She speaks again, but her words now come out as choked sobs, “People would be better off without you.” She holds the rock tightly in her hand, the sharp edges cutting into her hand and drawing blood. I want to take the rock from her, stop her crying, but I can’t. She wipes her face harshly, not doing much to stop the tears. She holds the rock up and stares directly at me, there’s no emotion in her eyes or on her face, none except the tears pouring out of her eyes. In a split second, she throws the rock at me. I cannot dodge the rock, I have no means of protecting myself, so I take it…and I shatter.
The sound of me shattering echoed through the room. As pieces of me scatter on the floor, her cries get louder. There’s a loud knock at the door, followed by the urgent cries of her mother and father, pleading with her to open the door. She turns around, picks up the Mp3 player that rests on her bed.
She puts her headphones on and plays her music loudly. My vision starts to fade in and out.
‘This must be it for me.’ I can still see her, taking a seat on the floor against the door. She picks up a piece of me and holds it in front of her face. She smiles a little and closes her eyes. I am so close to her face, I can feel her breath against me. As my vision fades slowly, I see her put the piece of me to her wrist. “Goodbye,” she whispers and then my vision fades completely. I didn’t get the chance to tell her that I loved her, but I guess it doesn’t matter, because who could love a mirror?

anonymous asked:

Is there any chance that we'll see fully written scenes between Gladio and Iggy from 'Classified'? It would be amazing to know in detail what happened with things like Gladdy realising it was Iggy all along, their first meeting at the club, the ball, the camping trip, etc. Thank you for writing this fic. It's seriously giving me life at the moment. By far my most favourite Gladnis fic to date

Hey, thank you for your kind words. ^___^ It’s lovely to hear. From our point of view, Classified is a story told in a an experimental format, a combination of epistolary style and mixed media. That’s what makes it unique and interesting; and for us as writers, it also presents a very stimulating and enjoyable challenge. 

So no, Classified itself will not have any ‘traditional writing’ pieces to it. It wouldn’t do it justice. Once the story is finished, anything is possible and we might think about it then. 

But again, we have a story to tell and we will find ways to tell it, so if anything important happened at any point, you can be sure we’ll find a way to tell the readers about it. But it will be a way that fits the Classified spirit. ^____^

I hope that clears things up a bit. Thank you for being so enthusiastic about our work, it’s very much appreciated. <3

Dejiah Archie-D.

Deja is an art student that attends Columbus College of Art (CCAD), she majors in fine arts. She has had art as an interest since she was young, but did not engage in it until her sophomore year of high school. As a start, she sketched in her sketchbook and learned about mediums. The first interest she had in art was acrylic paint, mainly because it was the cheapest at the art store that she came to love. Deja soon found herself taking many art classes (ceramics, film, and photography), painting with friends, and redrawing her favorite cartoon characters. When asked how did she get to where she is with art she said,”I believe allowing myself to experiment with different mediums led me to be where I am now as an artist.” Through doing a piece named “Judgement Day” (picture below) Deja learned she liked to tell stories through art as a career, which includes issues rising in society. For example, “Judgment Day” is based on Cleveland which is not the best part of our city. I asked her what/who inspires her from Cleveland she said, “One of the most memorable pieces I remember that stuck with me forever was Andy Warhol’s “Marylin Diptych” and Martin Creed’s “Half the given air in common space” back in 2012, both displayed at Cleveland Museum of Art.” She loved the repetition in their pieces, which gave her inspiration in color theory. Her first art show is coming up soon, August 4th, it is a women entrepreneurship event held in Columbus, Ohio. There will be vendors and guest speakers both from Cleveland and Columbus. Deja will be able to sell work and connect with other artists. With the show coming up soon Deja said,”This will be something great for me but, really it’s just about helping others around me. I see potential in a lot of situations, and I just want people to know that they are not limited to anything. Making small changes within myself and within my work is what pushes me to be more creative.” I personally hope that Deja and all her colleagues have a great time and make many connections. In five years, Deja would like to have her MFA, she would like to continue making art but maybe not in Ohio, and she hopes her art is more noticeable to others. In my opinion, I think she is a great artist me and she used to attend high school together. I remember seeing her art around the school. I think she is very talented and she stands out. I liked her Judgement Day piece a lot and, many of her other pieces. links to her info will be below, and some of her art.

-“Judgement Day”







Never hug someone you have feelings for. You will never forget the feeling of their arms around your waist and your head in the crook of their neck. The butterflys already wreaking havoc in your stomach will riot. And you’ll break your own heart before they ever have the chance to.
—  L.A.L. || A Heartbreaker’s Guide to Never Being Heartbroken #2

Maybe I wanted to draw some younger Keith and Lance getting to know each other, maybe I just wanted to draw Keith in a band shirt.

  • Me: Wanna see my fav character?
  • Friend: No
  • Me: OKAY!!!! This is him. This is him standing. This is him walking. This is him being THE BEST CHARACTER EVER!!
that’s what people do
they move on
they don’t stay at the
exact same place like
i do and i know i
should get the fuck up
i know. trust me i do.
but i cannot stop crying.
—  ck.writes (on Instagram)
Challenges For Writers

You guys wanted some prompts and I thought this might give you some fun ideas. Some of these challenges can apply to every kind of writer, so I suggest skimming them all :)


  • Produce an album with each song touching on a different social issue
  • compose a movie score
  • write 1 song a month about the events in that time and visit those songs in a year
  • write a song about wherever you are right now
  • rewrite the lyrics of your favorite song
  • compose a new melody for your favorite song
  • write a song where the lyrics contradict the melody
  • make a mashup of completely different songs


  • write a story from the point of view of a character you hate
  • write a story based off a song
  • write a story from a deity’s point of view
  • write a story that takes place somewhere you’ve never been
  • write a story with no dialogue
  • write a story from the point of view of a piece of technology
  • turn a poem into a story
  • write a story with only 140 characters


  • write a positive poem about something you hate
  • condense your favorite song/movie into a haiku
  • write a poem about what you wish you knew when you were younger
  • write a poem completely out of YouTube comments
  • write a poem with song lyrics only
  • write a poem about a photo from over 50 years ago
  • write a poem about your favorite love story
  • write about an experience you’ve never had


  • write an article from a perspective that is the opposite of yours
  • write an article based on a picture from the 1900′s
  • write about an interview with a dead person
  • report a story based on a poem or song
  • report the events in your favorite book
  • report a murder that nobody knows you committed
  • you’re a travel columnist. Write about where you are now.
  • write a fake news article about a world leader
I’m always looking for my person. In crowded bowling allies, in quiet coffee shops and empty train stations. With all of the stories about accidental meetings and moments tied up in fate, I’m constantly hoping that the Universe will take a chance on me.
—  L.A.L.
I write about love like I know it so well, but to be honest, love and I have never officially met.
—  Pieces of me, 8
“Someday we’ll meet”

I did not fall for him because he was good for me. I fell for him for the way he sees life. He is better than most of the people I have seen and spoken to. He is better than this ideal guy I had in my mind. He is tender. He is kind. He is loyal. He is ferocious and he is calm. I fell for him because I’m jealous of him. I fell for him because he is more than a song or a piece of art or a movie could make me feel. He gives me a sense of home, a sense of this serene and exciting infinity that I have always wanted. He is beautiful in a way he does not understand. He is what I have always wanted to be, to be generous and kind and loving and so very strong. Because that part of me has been lost and that part of me, I found in him. He is hope. He is that soul people show in books, a tender heart yet strong. That soul that survived through storm, ruffled and yet optimistic. Something, someone I try to be. Sigh. I found my home.

lexiconluthor  asked:

A while back, I was in a college English Lit class where we read your short story 'Troll Bridge' and had a class discussion about it (we actually read a ton of your stuff in that class, I think the professor was a big fan). According to the professor, the story is supposed to represent sexual abuse because the boy is "ruined" by it. Is this accurate?

If anybody tells you what they find in a story or a piece of art, they are right: that’s what they found in there. If anybody tells you that what they perceive is all that a piece of art is about, they are always wrong.