Helpful Sites For Writers

TOMORROW!

FUCK YEAH

Surprise! Tumblr just got turned into an epic fantasy RPG, just like [your favorite appropriate media franchise]. And the Tumblr RPG's plot needs to have all of its characters covered, in roles both large and small.

That means that you are assigned to a stereotypical RPG role inside our new fantasy world. Spin this wheel to find out what you are now doing for a living.

She blinked in surprise the moment he mentioned what she did was insulting. Holding up her arms as if she was told to put her hands up. Freezing up again as he moved. Following all his movements with her eyes the moment he fell to the floor she jumped back.

Blizzard had to think for a moment before kneeling down next to him as he explained she was in danger, not fully understanding why she was in the first place. Her expression slowly turned soft with a small frown, turning her voice to a whisper since it had clearly hurt his ears before when she had spoken a bit louder, "I do apologize."

A hint of worry laced her tone. Staying in place, making sure not to be too close as to not intimidate him even though she was the one in more danger. Fully she sat down on the floor with him on her knees, setting her hands down on her lap.

Whenever she left, she finds it hard to believe that encounters like this really happened. She took in a breath, reaching one of her hands up to fix her long violet hair that strayed into her face and set her hand back down on her lap.

"Are you alright?" She asked, still in that same low soft tone as to not hurt the poor boy's ears. Even though the warnings of her being in danger, clearly she didn't care. Of course she noted the tall heels he wore, figuring it was to make himself taller though that was the least of her worries since there was no way those things were comfortable at all to walk in. She would know, she wears heels often, not as high as those but still enough to be slightly uncomfortable at times.

⚰️ for a starter where my muse turns your muse into a vampire

"What a shame, that door is locked...!"

Sorry, Blizzard, your attempt to just find your way back out, testing random doors, proved a failure, as the occupant of this abandoned mansion has been silently following you from the shadows, and has now decided to reveal himself, after silently approaching! While startling due to the sudden and unexpected speech, it's a rather high voice, isn't it? Either a child or a deeper-voiced woman. It seems to come from lower behind her, too...

Were Blizzard to turn around, she'd find... he's... awfully tiny, isn't he?! That cape dwarfs him and looks like it would constantly get caught underfoot were he not wearing heels to elevate him and keep his cape just above treading range...

Despite all that, he looks smug and quite proud of himself for securing prey! (He hardly did, though...? She kind of just stumbled in by sheer luck, fortunate for him, unfortunate for her...?)

But, would she just be prey? It almost seems too bad, she was fun to watch, wandering the mansion, that almost felt like ending it too quickly...

After his unnecessary taunting (probably emboldened by the fact she's trapped here with him), he'll immediately turn into... a Swoobat (albeit one with a slightly more human face, with dirty blonde her, grey eyes, but sporting the upturned fangs, ears, and heart-nose of a Swoobat!) to fly up to try and bite her neck.

“Jealousy is so cute.” Jealousy makes me want to kms, but okay! Glad that you still think I’m cute when I’m losing my mind ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Ryomen Sukuna

TW: captive reader, no-name character deaths, Sukuna in general

fem reader

Sukuna, in his true form some thousand years ago, carrying you on his arm so that your feet and dress don’t stain with the blood on the floor. A sea of carnage he’d laid to waste only a moment ago—soldiers sent to slaughter the monster’s concubine, a heathenness whore. They’d fallen no different from flowers trampled underfoot.

It's a tragedy. If anyone could free you from his prison, it would have been them.

A heavy finger catches the tear dribbling down your face before it can fall to join the red below. “Don’t water them with your tears,” he says, bringing the droplet to his lips. “Not even in death do they deserve it.”

You view his second face—the warped array of eyes upon an inhuman mask—as a punishment from the Gods for his vile ways. 

“Did you think I’d find it flattering?” you ask sharply through the sorrow. “Murder in my name?”

Nothing betrays the look in his garnet eyes, nor does the way he holds you. He simply lets you sit there, upon him like a thrown, admonishing him no less—as if he hadn’t just saved your life from a thousand swords.

“I don’t,” you bite out when he doesn’t answer. “It sickens me. I curse whichever part of me attracted such a monster.”

That makes him smile. “I’m afraid that’s all of you, turtledove.” He turns you around in his many arms and lays you to rest like a bride. “From your toes to the finest hair atop your head—I covet it all—like treasure.”

He doesn’t rush while wading through the filth who’d tried to take you away from him, basking in their still-warm blood as if soaking his feet with their failure. He would have made it long-lasting if they’d come close enough to breathe the same air as you. But since you’d begged for him to spare them, he’d acted with mercy—making their deaths quick and all but painless.

The things he does for you.

“Does it frighten you to be the only one I care about?” he asks.

You look disgusted. He finds it rather cute.

 “No,” you reply. “It simply hurts.”

He throws his head back and laughs then—boisterously. The echo rings throughout the temple, even making ripples in the red. When he looks down at you again, he bears a great smile.

“Fine then, as you wish.” Evidence of his amusement remains while he speaks. “I won’t subject you to any more carnage from this moment onward.”

You know better than to take him for his word—especially when that awful grin stretches his face.

“No, I shall rather keep you tucked away where no one will ever dare go looking—and before I even dare come see you myself, I’ll make sure to have washed the filth off first so as not to trouble your pretty head with my savage habits. Now, does that sound satisfactory to you, my Queen?”

He’s mocking you, you surmise—cooing at you, laughing at the way you mourn. But it shouldn’t surprise you. If he can rip people to shreds without so much as batting any of his eyes, making light of their deaths isn’t all that more of an offense.

“All this inanity has given me an appetite,” he states with a hearty sigh—dismissing any further argument. “Let’s find Uraume and eat.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

🥳🔪🕺🔥💃✨️🤗🎉🤩🎊❤️‍🔥🤪🗡😈🎉🤺

[AGGRESSIVELY ATTEMPTS TO ENJOY SOMETHING WHILE IGNORING HALF OF THE FANDOM]

To the writer who needs to hear it…

YES. Your story DOES matter. It wouldn’t exist without you. You are in charge of bringing it to life because other writers don’t possess your style / voice. You are the only person capable of creating your story.

You are an unique, creative, worthy human being. Go show the world what you’re capable of.

Writing Resources: WORDS ARE HARD

60 Synonyms for “Walk”

A list of sounds/onomatopoeias for writers

American vs British terms

Descriptionary

Insult names to use instead of "idiot”

Looking for a word you can’t remember

OneLook Reverse Dictionary

One look thesaurus

Power Thesaurus

Researching for WIPs : A Collection

Reverse Dictionary

Synonyms for Very

Using the appropriate vocabulary in your novel

Wild vs feral

Words to use instead of: cry/cried/crying

Writing websites