Latest Posts by suedeonym - Page 4

List of Names

A list full of names you can use for your stories.

Fantasy Names

Fantasy Names II

Fantasy Names III

Dark Academia Names (Girls)

Dark Academia Names (Boys)

Dark Academia Names (Genderneutral)

German Names (Girls)

German Names (Boys)

German Names (Genderneutral)

Random Names Part I

Random Names Part II

Random Names Part III

Random Names Part IV

Random Names Part V

Random Names Part VI

Random Names Part VII

Random Names Part VIII

Random Names Part IX

Random Names Part X

Names with Cute Nicknames (Girls)

Names with Cute Nicknames (Boys)

Mythological Names

Botanical Names Part I

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Botanical Names Part I

Names you can choose for your characters. Taken from the little signs in a botanical garden. So they are names of plants.

Adoxa

Potentilla

Fraxinus

Stellaria

Valeriana

Iris

Tulipa

Syringa

Danthonia

Avena

Silene

Irsine

Amaranthus

Barbarea

Cleome

Nigella

Erica

Arbutus

Malva

Calluna

Viola

Phyllis

Majorana

Salvia

Morina

Petunia

Calliandra

Veronica

Gilia

Juniper

More names!

is “villain” the best word to use in a scene description or a dialogue prompt between characters?

since I came across this poll and gave my little opinion on the matter there, I thought I would make a separate post about it too.

now what I’m not gonna do is tell my fellow writers what to do or what not to do. however, if I may, I hope you’ll allow me to give you my advice.

writers — especially those who write about superheroes, fantasy, etc — you may have used the word “villain” in your works before, and you may have thought nothing of the word itself; I mean, it fits best, right? a bad guy in a story where characters have superpowers is a villain.

I mean that’s the word for it. because for us, these are fictional works about fictional characters.

but…

for those characters in your work, the world you created for them are real for them. I mean… your characters don’t know they are fictional characters in a fictional world, correct? (unless you specifically write a story in which the characters know they’re fictional characters in a fictional world).

therefore you might want to ask yourself how realistic it is for these characters — who have no idea they are fictional characters and think they are real people — to call bad people “villains”

how realistic it is for us — real people — to call real-life criminals “villains”

what are the chances of us reading the news with the headline “two villains caught and in custody after a robbery attempt”?

the word “villain” just… doesn’t sound realistic in real world.

ask yourself how realistic you want your stories to be, as a writer who created a world in which the characters don’t know they are fictional.

how realistic it is for your characters (who think they are real people) to say, “there’s a villain around. we have to go.”

for your characters, they aren’t fictional characters, they are real. and these fictional worlds are real for them. if we’re not calling real-life criminals villains because they are real people to us. would your characters call someone who were real to them villains because they were bad?

now ask yourself how realistic you want your stories to be, as a writer — of course, a story where characters have superpowers or the one where characters live in a fantasy world aren’t so “realistic” for us, but if, as a writer, you want your readers to feel as though they live in that world you created while they read your work, you might not want to subtly remind them they’re reading a fictional work by directly referring to the bad guys as “villains”.

the key to professionally writing a story is that you make your readers forget they are reading a fictional story.

the key to professionally writing a story is that you make your readers feel as though they actually live in that world you create and are a part of that story.

there’s a reason most (if not all) superhero movies we see don’t include a scene where the hero refers to the bad guy as “a villain”. and that reason is that, for these characters, what happens in the movie is real to them. and also because the studios want their audience — us — to feel as though we actually live in that world. they don’t want to keep reminding us that “hey, this is a movie, it’s not real” by having the hero call the bad guy villain.

reminder: the world you create are real for those characters, and it should feel real for your readers to.

words to use instead of “villain”

murderer

monster

bad people / bad person

killer

son of a bitch

dick

cunt

dickhead

convicted

abuser

prick

dangerous (person / people)

predator

rapist

violent (person / people / man)

manipulator

traitor

unreliable

liar

troublemaker

troubled

unstable

corrupted

psychopath

capable of horrible, violent things

We have yandere school,, but what about yan! Restaurant? 👀

You've only ever visited this particular restaurant once, but the food was just so good that you can't help but come back from time to time! And, oh.. The workers and manager there can't help but favor you a lot more than the rest ♡

I'm not sure if you meant it in the sense that the restaurant is a regular, normal business, and the staff became obsessed with you, or if the restaurant is quite literally advertised as a yandere service. I went for the latter, for the memes. Content: gender neutral reader, parody?, horde of (adult) yanderes

Yandere!Restaurant provides you with an extensive list of employees to choose from. From grey-haired and soft-spoken, to brash and youthful; the restaurant guarantees you will find your matching server within their impressive catalog.

Alright, where is the menu? Most customers are indeed taken aback when presented with a leather-bound book of blank pages. The gesture is quickly followed by a second, much thinner folder: a questionnaire, and an agreement to be stalked.

You see, Yandere!Restaurant has a particular modus operandi - you provide them with the basics: your full name and date of birth. Everything else will be uncovered by the yandere themselves. Once they have found you, the true serving process begins.

The first part is always the longest, hence their recommendation to book months in advance if you're a new customer. It's the research phase. Your chosen server will follow you around and gather all the needed information.

"No, thank you, it's too sweet for me", you tell a friend offering you some of their snack. From within the shadows, a cloaked figure scribbles down furiously.

The second and final phase is your usual dining experience. You are seated at the table and presented with your dishes. They have been carefully curated to match your taste in that very moment. Maybe you'd recently hoped you could eat your childhood favorite again. Maybe you'd seen a social media post about a trending dessert, and wished to try it out yourself. No matter the reason, know that it has been skillfully uncovered by your loyal server.

"This is..."

You gasp quietly and cover your mouth with a napkin. The taste is exquisite, filling you with a wave of nostalgia. How did they know? This is exactly what you wanted.

Why, of course. It was made with utmost love and attention. Won't you visit them again, (Y/N)?

[More Yandere Scenarios]

Angels Prompts

Angels are not the cute, fluffy creatures the world likes to see them as. They are powerful warriors and are not here to coddle humans.

The wings of an angel are high maintenance and so almost every angel has a companion who helps them out with keeping their wings ready and beautiful.

Sometimes angels like watching over their humans laying in bed. Those destructive little creatures look so peaceful when they are asleep.

All angels are supposed to be siblings. And they do have a family dynamic between them - a very toxic one.

They have been on earth for millennia. Nothing can shock them anymore. Or so they thought.

An angel's wings are powerful, made for flying and fighting. But they are also incredibly soft and wonderful to be surrounded by.

Loving humans as an angel also means watching a lot of them die.

The angels are wandering the world looking like regular people. But if you watch more carefully, it's actually pretty easy to spot one.

They have a job to fulfill, giving to them millennias ago, and almost nothing could get them to abandon that job.

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words to use instead of running?

Running—to go faster than a walk

Barreling - to move at a high speed or without hesitation

Blazing - of outstanding power, speed, heat, or intensity

Bounding - to move by leaping

Cantering - to move at or as if at a canter (i.e., a 3-beat gait resembling but smoother and slower than the gallop); loping

Careening - to proceed or move quickly

Coursing - to proceed or move quickly

Dashing - to go at a pace faster than a walk

Galloping - progressing, developing, or increasing rapidly

Hastening - to move or act quickly

Hieing - to go quickly; hasten

Hurtling - to move rapidly or forcefully

Hurrying - to carry or cause to go with haste

Hustling - hasten, hurry

Jogging - to run or ride at a slow trot

Loping - an easy usually bounding gait capable of being sustained for a long time

Racing - to proceed or move quickly

Ripping - to proceed or move quickly

Rushing - to cause to move or proceed fast or faster

Scampering - to run nimbly and usually playfully about

Scooting - to move swiftly

Scurrying - to move in or as if in a brisk pace; scampering

Scuttling - scurry; a short swift run

Skipping - to move or proceed with leaps and bounds or with a skip

Speeding - to make haste

Springing - to make a leap or series of leaps

Sprinting - to run or go at top speed especially for a short distance

Tearing - to proceed or move quickly

Tripping - to go at a pace faster than a walk

Trotting - to proceed briskly; hurrying

Zipping - to move, act, or function with speed and vigor

Hope this helps with your writing. Do tag me, or send me a link. I'd love to read your work!

More: Word Lists

You will not use AI to get ideas for your story. You will lie on the floor and have wretched visions like god intended

What about a sub!villain who tries to play the part of the suave, dominant villain cause they’re afraid of vulnerability… and an actually dominant hero who sees through it and flips the script. Could it also be spicy please?

Also, your writing is amazing and it makes my day better! Thank you so much for sharing it! I send you hugs!

"You may think you're deceptive. But you are not." The end of the villain's dagger nearly buried its way into their own skin. Although the villain couldn't recall when the hero had gotten a hold of it during the fight, they were quite pleased with the result. (The result being the hero on top of them, still panting from the fight.) "Your effort is quite delightful, though."

The villain cracked a smile.

"Oh, you want to ravage me so bad..."

"Your imagination doesn't even come close to how bad I truly want that," the hero answered.

There was something in their presence that stirred the villain in an exciting way. Was it their body? Their personality? Their morals and their desires? Usually, the villain considered themselves to be talented when it came to reading people and analyzing the relationships they had with them.

For better or worse, it was different with the hero. More confusing. More dangerous.

At this point, the villain was playing with fire - they didn't know exactly what their relationship with the hero was nor where they stood.

"I loathe you for being my only weakness." The hero let the blade dig into the villain's chin until they looked up. "And destroying you would probably bring me some peace."

"Oh." The villain had never heard such a blunt statement coming from the hero. At least not something this personal and...open. It nearly made the villain sick to their stomach how casually the hero had mentioned it.

Slowly, the hand which wasn't holding onto the dagger travelled up the villain's arm until those cursed fingertips found a shaking wrist and grabbed it.

"But what am I without you? What is Orpheus without his muse?"

"You're so charming today..." The villain tried to sound as flirty as they could but their voice was inexplicably trembling.

When had the hero decided to be so horrible and seduce the villain? And why on earth was it working?

"How does that make you feel?" the hero asked, their voice nothing more than a whisper. They freed their index finger from their grip around the villain's wrist and slowly, agonizingly, let it travel upwards. The villain took in a sharp breath, surprised by the hero's actions.

It felt a little too intimate. Nearly immoral.

The villain felt quite stupid for blushing, after all, it was just the hero's finger rubbing against their palm and their breath on the villain's neck.

"I'm..." The villain tried to concentrate but it wasn't that easy anymore. They closed their eyes, close to defeat already. "Sorry, what do you mean?"

Did the hero have to level their weight on the villain's hips? Did they have to say these things? Startle the villain like that? Couldn't they just flirt, try to kill each other and go home after?

Did the hero have to whisper something this close to a confession into the villain's ear?

"How does it feel to be my only weakness?" the hero murmured. Their grip loosened and slowly, their hand began their conquest towards the villain's fingers. "How does it feel to mean so much to me? To occupy my thoughts during the day? And my dreams during the night?"

Hell, the hero was dreaming about them?

"What are you doing...?" Suddenly, the hero let their fingers entwine, squeezing gently and for whatever reason, the villain took in a quick breath.

"I believe we both know you crave a superficial relationship. Something that makes you feel superior and secure. But I can tell you from personal experience that those relationships don't work out in the long run. They will make you feel miserable. They will make you feel worthless. If I want you, I will want you bare. And there is nothing I desire more." Their lips were close to the villain's. "In your own time, of course. You strip. Figuratively and literally, obviously."

"I- You-"

"I am always willing to help, though." The hero smirked lazily and squeezed the villain's hand. "There is no reason to feel ashamed. Or to feel weak. After all, you have me in your hand."

The villain couldn't say anything.

It had started as a normal fight. With the usual flirting.

And now, the villain was actually thinking about opening up to someone. To talk about all their horrible fears and the self-doubt. About all their mistakes and regrets.

This had to be some new weapon or master plan to turn the villain into a good person. Whatever it was, the villain feared they would think about this encounter for the months to come.

"I will keep this, though," the hero announced. They held up the villain's dagger and pushed themselves off the villain. "Everyone needs a memento of their beloved, don't they?"

All the villain could do was stare as the hero blew them a kiss and vanished into the night.

decided to put these in a bit of a chronological order as i can’t help but form a story behind the scenes. it’s a storyteller’s habit. and yeah i do have an idea i would genuinely like to explore with gail simone as a crossover comic. 

i don’t want to be the writer for this. but at the same time i always found diving into these things and exploring the character chemistry was the best way to get an artistic feeling for it.

this is also how i usually develop my own stories.

anyhow, while many think this is me drawing some shipping, in fact this a proof of concept for an adventure story  featuring lara and diana. Gail simone at some point asked if they would kiss and i gave it some genuine thought. i am a character first kind of a writer, myself, so i contemplated this. then i decided, yes, probably.

after all, romantic subplots have been the bread and butter of adventure writing since its inception and i always liked that aspect of adventure stories.

 i hope this puts some things in context from my end XD

and while there will probably be a few more of these, there will be no nsfw pics. after all, camera pans away from indiana jones in those moments as well  XD

okay… there may be a chance of a kiss… but that’s about it. 

Demons Dialogue

"Have you ever thought about selling your soul? It's beautiful."

"I'm a demon. I'm bad and evil and cunning, and looking oh so good while doing it."

"Don't ask me if it hurt when I feel from heaven. It did and I will never forgive him for that."

"Urgh, your soul is so pure, I want to corrupt it."

"Demonslayer? What a fun little name for a mortal being shaking in their boots right now."

"I don't want what's best for humanity. I want what's best for me, and sometimes those things are the same. Doesn't mean I'm good."

"You know those crosses just work on vampires, right?"

"Ouch! Why the hell would you put holy water in a water gun? That's rude!"

"Seriously, have you ever actually read the bible?"

"The bad side isn't that bad. We are our own boss here."

"I'm your emotional support demon. Having difficulties making decisions? I'm always there to steer you in the wrong direction."

"Of course I still have wings. And I'm taking good care of them, so don't even think about touching them with your dirty little fingers."

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"immortality sucks because all your friends die" all your friends die anyway. those we do not mourn are those who mourn us.

"immortality sucks because you forget who you are" we always forget who we are. do you remember who you were at four years of age? who you were at fourteen? "who i am" is a shadow cast on the wall.

"immortality sucks because" skill issue. skill issue. skill issue. give me your liver

Day VIII

Death's Daughter

Dixie liked sunset. But he hated it too. It was beautiful, but people were inside. He preferred rooftops, renting a seventh floor apartment so he could sleep on sun-warmed gravel. He liked outside, but not the work of it. Drops fell from the sky. Rain.

He climbed down and slipped into his window, closing it. He made himself some ramen and looked at the city skyline. It was beautiful, black silhouettes against orange that faded from orange to pastel blue to black behind darkening clouds on a watercolor canvas. Above it all shone a full moon.

Thunder clapped as Dixie laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the pattering of the rain. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Morning came with rain falling steadily. A hissing was heard along with it, hardly distinguishable from the constant pattering. Dixie listened before carefully investigating.

It was a girl. A woman really, well-proportioned and well-endowed. But she wasn't human. At least, not unmodified. She had dark lavender skin, midnight purple horns, sharp midnight purple nails that could better be called claws, and a tail. She was making pancakes and eggs, her tail expertly flipping the cakes onto a plate stacked with them.

"Oh, morning. Thought you might enjoy breakfast you didn't have to make. Name's Lily. I was thinking I'd have you meet my dad in about a week, then we can arrange me meeting your parents and then marriage, though I guess I'm getting really ahead of myself if you don't accept. And I'm rambling on, sorry. You don't have to introduce yourself, I know all about you, what with having watched you for a while, a few years now...." She rambled on and Dixie noticed sharp ears under her dark, flowing, indigo hair. It flowed like water down her back and over her shoulders. "...and my dad's super hyped to meet you. 'Ell, ya shoulda seen 'is face when I tol' 'im 'bout my plan. 'Ead over 'eels, my d'scription o' ya. Oop. My tongue's slippin'. Been around the imps too long. Startin'.... Starting... to cut off my words. Am I talking too much? I come in and start rambling my tongue numb. How'd you sleep, Dixie?"

"Uh, alright."

"That's good." She nodded, finishing up with her cooking. She grabbed the syrup from the cabinet with an experienced hand, as though she'd been living there for a while. She dished up the food and took a seat beside Dixie and started eating. Dixie ate like a starved man after the first bite.

Author's Note: This is not finished, but I'm not gonna finish it. Writblr, do your thing.

I just think people write out of obligation too often.

"How do I motivate myself to write through the boring part of my story?"

"How do I make this boring scene not boring?"

Don't write it.

Don't write boring things just because you think the structure of the story demands it. I promise it doesn't need to be there.

If your characters need to have gone shopping for a later part of the story to make sense you can just have a sentence about how they went shopping and move on.

You are not obligated to write the boring parts. No matter what those parts are.

You are not obligated to make the parts of your story that you're not excited to write interesting somehow.

You can just write the fun and interesting parts and gloss over and summarize boring things.

Your audience will thank you and you will thank yourself.

Day VII

It wasn't long before the humans died off and the machines built by them were the only survivors left. The robots and AI developed over a few centuries to recycle the accumulated trash, thus making them effectively immortal. The Earth cooled by a few degrees as the only water was in the atmosphere, keeping the ground usable for plants.

The seeds in the ground and those that blew around became saturated with radiation that escaped from decrepit power plants and silos and storage facilities. Mutations were catalyzed and metal and plastic started to grow out of the ground.

One of many big companies, Trash, Recycling, and IgnitioN Services by Electric and Gas-GuzzlerS, TRaINS by EGGS mass produced trash compaction robots, among others. These, like the rest, grouped up like families, like clans. It was almost human.

Boolean lifted a pile of scrap before turning it into a cube. Then he heard the telltale whistle of something flying through the air at high speed. He took the brunt of it and rolled it to the ground. He absorbed the scrap, bulking himself up, then went to investigate what had launched the projectile.

What he saw after a few minutes was the opposite of what he expected: a war machine curled up, doing the robotic equivalent of human crying. She lifted her head as he drew closer.

"何が欲しいですか?"

Boolean cocked his head in confusion. He recognized the language, but not what it meant.

"Qu'est-ce que tu veux?"

Not even the slightest clue.

"¿Qué deseas?"

So close yet so far away. So he went with the one he knew. "英語を話します?"

She snickered at that, then, in a much less irritated growl, said, "What do you want?"

"Oh, uh.... I just wondered if you throwing that crane at me was on purpose? Looking at you now, though, it doesn't seem like it." Now that he wasn't trying to process language or body language, he saw her factory silver plating which was covered in dust and rust flakes. She got up and some of the debris fell off of her.

"Sorry about that. Just alone and sad. I was sent here to find life, but aside from some weird molds and viruses, and you, I've found nothing."

"Well, if you're looking for humans or mammals you won't find any. They're all dead and gone. There aren't even any remains. But if you're looking at plant life, everything here came from carbon-based, photosynthesizing flora. Centuries back, but the DNA's still there, if you know where to look." He plucked a leaf from the ground. The rubber peeled apart easily when he opened it up.

"This is the most natural, well, most pre-apocalyptic, plant that grows now. One of the few carbon-based life forms here anymore." The silver robot looked at it, hunching to see and be less imposing. She analyzed it and, sure enough, nothing but hydrocarbons.

"Wait, what's your name? I'm Boolean."

"Evelyn."

Day VI

You felt stiff and sore. Well that would make sense. You've been dead for a while. You look up and there, in the collarbone is a name: Dennis. You looked over yourself. You were... whole? You had skin. You felt normal, aside from the stiffness.

Dennis silently offered you your cloak and staff, which you put on. You pooled your mana together. It felt smaller than it used to be. You pulled with all your might and felt an explosion of power which made you stumble back a step. You imbued Dennis with a bit more power and he visibly straightened.

Where you had laid was dug up and on a stone lying at the end it read, in several languages, as inscribed several times over, "Here lies The Death ringer, owner of a thousand souls. His rebirth will result in untold casualties."

You caressed Dennis skull and gave him a hug. It wasn't particularly soft, but it was comforting to hug someone familiar. When you finally stepped back, you ran your fingers along the engraved name.

"What happened to the others?" you asked.

"Those who didn't fall when you died were hacked to pieces or pulverized. I was the last one. It was the resurrection spell you cast upon me that is how we are as we are." You smiled.

"Thank you." You started walking toward the moon. It was a waxing gibbous. After a while, you noticed it had risen, so you were travelling east. You stopped and looked up. The stars were dazzling. Dennis stopped about a pace and a half behind you. You started walking again and didn't stop until you arrived at the first set of houses. You felt an absurd amount of corpses under the ground, the majority of them human.

You, a necromancer, were always fond of your skeleton minions. Even going as far as to make each one a personalized name tag. Then you were cut down by those blasted heroes, only to one day reopen your eyes and see an Elder Lich looming over you with a very faded name tag.

Reblog if it's okay to invade your ask box.

Always

Day V

My take on this:

"I'll be your waitress tonight. My name is Dorian. So, what can I start you two off with?"

Zené held his tongue as Marie ordered water and a glass of chardonnay. Zené just ordered a water, wanting Dorian to leave as quickly as possible. Dorian was Spike, a villain who liked to make his life miserable, coming up with some plan or another or just stealing something from the Embassy. He wasn't supposed to know her secret identity. It wasn't in her file. But he did. She wasn't supposed to know his. He was a hero. But she did.

"It looked like you knew that waitress. Who is she?"

"Just, uh, somebody I see sometimes. I come here, she waits my tables, she comes to the junkyard, says hi as she drops off some scraps or something."

"Oh, what do you do?"

"Um... Crusher operator at the junkyard. Half the time I'm rescuing perfectly good cars from people who think a dent's worth trashing 30+ thousand dollars of first car material. I'm also the unofficial salesman. Cheapskate parents'll come to the junkyard to buy some clunker, I sell a beauty of a '97 Camaro for $2,000. Half the time when it comes back, it's totaled. Fun times."

"Oh, that's nice."

"Yeah."

Dorian came back with menus and the drinks, then promptly left. Zené looked at the menu, so it wouldn't seem so awkward for Marie even though he already knew what he wanted.

"What do you recommend, Zené? I've never really been to a fancy restaurant."

"Oh. Well my go to is alfredo, either chicken or shrimp, or a well-done t-bone or sirloin. Expensive, but worth the convenience."

"Hmm." Marie flipped through the menu, locating the items he mentioned, rocking her head back and forth trying to decide. "I think I'll go sirloin with the special on the side"

"That's a great choice. Their specials are always amazing." About 15 minutes later, Dorian came back.

"Y'all know whatcha want?"

"Yeah. What's the special today?" Marie asked.

"We have chili soup and we have Naomi's Concoction, basically an alfredo casserole."

"Oooh. I'll have a side of, what was it, Naomi's Concoction? with a sirloin medium-well."

"Alright, medium-well. And for you, sir?"

"Chicken and shrimp alfredo, all in one, with a side of the chili special."

"Alright! Comin' right up."

Dorian walked off with a mischievous pep in her step. Zené noticed and sighed. Yet another date to-be-crashed. Just great. The only thing to do now was wait. Dorian never crashed his dates the same way twice. The first one was a simple case of bullying. Dorian came to the cafe as a "friend", making fun of everything the girl did. Another was an assassination as he walked the girl home. There were a few others, but each time Dorian was behind it and each time she made sure Zené knew.

Innocently, she brought the food to the table after about 20 minutes, the average time it took any amount of food to be made at The Golden Goose.

Zené dug in. He refused to stress out over what could be when he had no proof. Instead, he wanted to get it over with and he wanted to enjoy himself.

Dorian came by a couple times, as any good waitress should, not carrying any poisons or venoms on her. Marie commented on how good the food was and Dixie smiled politely.

Zené and Marie finished eating and sat back, full. Before long, Marie excused herself to go to the bathroom and that's when Dorian's plan sprang into action. She has planned it thoroughly, and was able to get her shift ended then. She changed into her normal clothes and sat where Marie was sitting, across from Zené.

"What're you doing? Aren't you on the clock?" Zené hissed.

"Nope, just got off. Works when you own the company."

"What-? You own this?"

"Yeah. How do you think I fund my villainy?"

Zené opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, nodding in acceptance.

"That girl. Marie. You'd really choose her over me?"

"Uh, yeah. You're a villain. I'm a hero. There's a big difference between us. I'm not gonna get with somebody who I'm gonna have to fight in the morning."

"Y'know, you wouldn't have to if we were married."

"No. And you know why."

"Let me guess: morality?"

"Precisely."

"Well, then it would be a shame if I stole you from your date, wouldn't it?"

Zené's brow furrowed. "What do you mean by that?"

"You know what I mean. So don't try to deny it. I know your nature. And I will use it to my advantage every time."

Marie came out of the bathroom and took stock of what she saw before launching into a tirade.

"Get out of my seat. That boy is mine. And if I see you with him again, I just might do something you'll regret."

"Oh really?" Dorian hummed, chuckling, "You'll do something I'll regret? I would love to see that." She slinked around the table and latched onto Zené's arm, who, with a miserable attempt, tried to get her off. Tried to get away. But she held fast and kept him anchored to the spot.

Marie threw a punch and Zené sighed. No civilian had the prowess to be a villain of Dorian's caliber.

Dorian caught Marie's arm and pressed her to the table calmly, yet firmly. She handed the half-empty bottle of chardonnay to Dixie, who took a swig, then said, "I get what I want no matter what, so I recommend you don't make this any bigger of a scene than it already is and leave. Let me have my man, and you can take whoever else you want." She let Marie go, who sulked out of there, and the rest of the patrons clapped at how decisively and quietly it was handled. Dorian bowed, then took Zené by the hand and left.

The next day, Zené went about his day like nothing had happened. Until he was summoned, privately of course, by Dorian. Well, by Spike. So he went in as Generator.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing, really. I've just noticed that your dates have looked more and more like me lately. Is that on purpose?" Generator thought about it. It hadn't been on purpose. But when your type is tall chubby hourglass goth, you look for that more than anything else. Generator set his jaw, annoyed by her accuracy.

"You can't just keep crashing my dates!" Generator blurted.

"Well, I mean, I keep doing it, so "can't" I don't think, is the operative word here." Generator scoffed.

"Stop crashing my dates."

"Oh, you don't go on them looking for a version of me that'll fit your moral code? Someone who looks like me and acts like me and who's similar enough that you can mold to be me without it being me?"

"...No."

"You don't want me to just claim you right then and there, pinning you to the table so we get removed and I take you to my place and we continue where we left off?"

"N-No."

"Oh. Then I'll stop."

"Wh-What?"

"I'll stop crashing your dates and flirting with you and we can go back to our hero/villain relationship while you find someone to marry. That's what you want, right? Of course, you could always say please."

"Say please?"

"Yeah. Say please and I'll pin you to the wall, kiss you breathless, and screw your pretty little brains into oblivion." Spike closed the gap, pouring two glasses of strawberry wine on her way. She offered one glass and Generator took it, taking a sip. It was good. Spike downed her glass, then set it on a nearby table. She advanced and Generator found his back hit a wall abnormally quickly. He took another sip of the wine.

"Just say you don't want this. It's that simple."

"No," Generator whispered. His nature made lying nearly impossible. It caused him to shake, like he was high or something. All that fixed it was the truth. Now, he could fool a lie detector and he could worm his way around the shaking, but he preferred not to lie.

The wine glass started to shudder, threatening to spill. He took another sip. Spike took the drink from him and set it on the table before settling her hand on the wall by his left shoulder. Generator knew one way to fix the shaking that was threatening to erupt out of him.

"Please~" he gasped, eyes unfocused as a wicked grin grew on Spike's face. She kissed him and he melted into it, supporting himself with her shoulder. She pressed him into the wall and got started on a hickey while he moaned and shuddered as the need overwhelmed him.

From then on, the only dates were with her in her office or her house.

Hi! Absolutely love your writing :) Would you be willing to do a enemies to lovers but with hero x villain? Maybe with like a controlling villain and the hero secretly likes it but is defiant externally? Sorry idk if that made sense lol

Thank you in advance though if you're able to!

"You can't just keep crashing my dates."

The villain glanced over their shoulder, raising an eyebrow in a mimicry of an emotion that didn't quite reach their eyes. "No?"

"No." The hero stalked closer, stopping in front of the villain, in time for them to turn. "I'm not yours."

"No?"

"No!" The hero's heart gave a little skip, at the possibility that the villain would then look at them and then say (in a growl, or devastatingly matter-of-fact, or in a teasing purr) 'yes, you are' or 'you're most certainly mine'. The villain had done it before.

The villain tilted their head, offering the hero one of the two glasses of wine they had just poured.

The hero took it, anticipating.

The villain didn't say anything, simply watching them as they took a steady sip.

The hero's face burned but they refused, stubbornly, to look away.

The villain set their glass down on the counter behind them. No rush.

The hero imagined the villain grabbing them, kissing them, as they had done before too. Twirling them, glass flying and wine sloshing, and pressing them up against the nearest flat surface. They would change every no to yes and please and more.

They both knew the routine, the dance of it. It didn't need saying.

"Your dates look increasingly like me," the villain murmured. "Have you noticed?" Their hands stayed, agonisingly, at their sides, as they leaned lazy against the counter.

The hero blinked, not expecting the comment. They took a sip of the wine instead of replying, hoping that perhaps an equally steady silence might come across as cool and mysterious instead of flabbergasted.

The villain smiled. "Say please."

"W-what?"

"Say please if you want me to screw your pretty brains out until you can't think straight."

The hero spluttered. "That's not - I'm not - that's not why I'm here." They undoubtedly would say please, but it had never been so close to the start, so when there wasn't any excuse they could possibly give for the desperate needing of it.

"No?"

"No." The hero swallowed.

"So you don't go on your little dates just to wind me up?" The villain finally straightened, taking a step closer.

The hero stepped back, but didn't run, didn't want to. Mesmerised. Their mouth felt very dry. "No." Such a lie.

The villain's smile grew. "You don't secretly wish I'd kiss you, claim you, in front of all of them?"

"No." The hero jutted their chin up. "I'm not a thing to be claimed."

The villain advanced; the hero back-tracked.

"You don't," the villain continued, a honeyed murmur, "say no, because you love all the ways I can persuade you. Because then you can pretend you don't want this. Because you like watching me take control of you."

The hero's back hit the wall. Miraculously, the wine didn't spill, still clutched uselessly in one hand.

"No."

"Mm." The villain set their palms on either side of the hero's shoulders, and the hero felt the very air between them might start vibrating with the urge to close the gap. "Perhaps I'll never crash one of your dates again then."

The thought was unbearable. The villain was bluffing, right? They had to be bluffing.

The hero wet their lips. The villain's gaze dropped to follow the movement, then flicked back up to the hero's eyes.

"You're a bastard," the hero whispered, because it was true and it wasn't no.

"Why yes," the villain's eyes gleamed, "I am." They waited.

The hero's stomach squirmed. "Are you actually going to make me say it?"

"I thought I didn't control you. I thought you weren't mine."

The hero shivered.

"So how could I," the villain leaned in to the hero's ear, still not quite touching, "possibly make you do anything?"

"...please."

"What was that, love?"

"I hate you."

"Do you?" The villain's lips finally pressed against their skin, kissing down their neck.

"Yes. So much." The hero's head fell back, offering more of their throat. The wine glass drooped in their hand.

"Don't spill on my floor."

The wine glass righted with titan concentration. There was nowhere to put it down.

The villain kissed them; soft, so soft, a promise of so much more to come.

"Would you like me to stop?" the villain asked against their lips.

"...no."

"No?"

"No."

The villain hummed and kissed them again, a little harder. The wine glass wobbled treacherously in the hero's hand once more. The hero's other hand clutched the villain's shoulder.

"I think we're done with the stage in our relationship where you pretend to date other people," the villain said, when they pulled back, breathless. They caught the hero's chin, and their stare was, for a moment, serious.

The hero scrambled past the kiss-drunk haze, brow furrowing. "It's actually bothering you?"

"No," the villain said, in the same tone that the hero said no, meaning yes.

"Okay." The hero leaned in to kiss them, just once, reassuring.

Tension eased out of the villain's shoulders. The wicked playfulness returned, and they shoved the hero back against the wall again. The next kiss was a consuming, hungry thing, and the hero could only chase after more than they were given, gasping.

The villain nipped the hero's neck, before giving a chiding click of their tongue. It once again sent an anticipatory shiver of delight down the hero's spine.

"Oh, would you look at that," the villain said, with soft and bewitching menace. "You spilled my wine. However shall I make you pay me back for that?"

"Make me?" The hero bit their lip. "You think you can make me do anything? Please."

The villain grinned.

There were no more dates with other people after that.

flower language has always been an intense source of disappointment for me

like, they all mean really generic things like “love” or “forever” or “i’m sorry” 

i thought you could combine flowers

like you could just send someone a bouquet and from the combination of hibiscus and posies and tulips they’d understand “the rebel leader is dead, rendezvous at the docks at 8, bring the dog, you will need lighter fluid and  a large tomato”

Another List of "Beautiful" Words

to include in your next poem

Avidulous - somewhat greedy.

Breviloquent - marked by brevity of speech.

Compotation - a drinking or tippling together.

Crimpy - of weather; unpleasant; raw and cold.

Desiderium - an ardent desire or longing; especially, a feeling of loss or grief for something lost.

Dyspathy - lack of sympathy.

Ebriosity - habitual intoxication.

Epitasis - the part of a play developing the main action and leading to the catastrophe.

Fantod - a state of irritability and tension.

Graumangere - a great meal.

Grimoire - a magician's manual for invoking demons and the spirits of the dead.

Hiemal - of or relating to winter.

Illaudable - deserving no praise.

Impluvious - wet with rain.

Innominate - having no name; unnamed; also, “anonymous”.

Juberous - doubtful and hesitating.

Noctilucous - shining at night.

Poetaster - an inferior poet.

Psychrophilic - thriving at a relatively low temperature.

Quiddity - the essential nature or ultimate form of something: what makes something to be the type of thing that it is.

Repullulate - to bud or sprout again.

Retrogradation - a backward movement.

Semiustulate - half burnt or consumed by fire.

Tenebrific - causing gloom or darkness.

Unparadiz’d - brought from joy to miserie.

If any of these words make it into your next poem/story, please tag me. Or leave a link in the replies. I'd love to read them!

When I wanted to be heard most I was told not to speak.

"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.

INTERVIEW WITH A WRITEBLR - A Writeblr Event

(I stole the name for this from @brieflyinfatuated because I saw it and was instantly in love. Anyway)

After quite the overwhelming response from people, I have decided I will start posting interviews with writeblrs. The decision came while I was deliberating how to celebrate my latest follower milestone.

HOW IT WORKS:

As I get responses, I will make posts with the information I've gathered. The "interview" is broken up into sections, going over the writer as a person, what they write, and their thoughts on the writeblr community as a whole. Due to the volume of responses and general interest, I have elected to do it this way for the sake of consistency and also to make this easier on myself.

This will be a long-term activity unlike my last milestone celebration. I aim to post one interview a day until I run out of interviews to post, and will be routinely checking the form for responses. Additionally, I have added a page to my site which will serve as a "hub" for all the interviews conducted--though, tracking the #iwaw tag should serve just as well.

HOW TO BE INVOLVED:

Go to this form and answer as much or as little as you want. You don't have to worry about following me--this is an event for all of writeblr, after all! This is my attempt to give back to the larger community.

Also,,, share this post! I'm going to be doing this for a very long time, so the more the merrier!

heyy i don’t have something specific in mind but can you please right something about a morally grey villain and a civilian. make it romantic and flirty and stuffff

Civilian was going to die.

The explosion from the bomb had obliterated half the bank within fractions of a second. The blast was far enough from their office that they weren't directly affected, but evacuating the actively crumbling building could easily kill them.

Rubble rained down as they desperately ran down the dusty hallway to the stairwell. Why did they have to be three stories up? Would they even get all the way down before the place collapsed?

Boom!

Civilian barely had time to react before they were thrown off their feet from the force of the blast that had detonated from the room beside them. Their back smacked into the opposite wall, pain and shock rippling through them as they hit the ground, rendering them helpless.

They couldn't move. This was it. They were going to—

"Oh, sweetheart."

Civilian jerked their head up to see someone standing over them, not a single speck of dust visible on their impeccable black clothes. Not the uniform of a co-worker or a rescue team member, Civilian realized with dismay.

The person crouched down in front of them, head tilted. "I could've sworn I got everyone out in time. I guess you're just a little elusive, huh?" They smirked and ruffled Civilian's hair, wildly playful considering the life-or-death situation they were in right now.

Wait.

The realization struck them like a brick to the head. “You set the bomb off,” they wheezed. “You’re Villain.”

Villain gave them a mock salute. “Nice to meet you too."

The floor wobbled dangerously and Civilian squeaked in fear, trying and failing to prop themselves up. "Please...please don't kill me," they blurted.

"Wow, who do you think I am?" Villain placed a hand on their chest in mock disbelief. "Eh, besides, you're too cute to murder. Or leave for dead,” Villain added as the building groaned, swaying on its foundations.

Civilian flushed, not sure if they should be flattered or absolutely terrified that their whole fucking workplace was about to collapse and that this bastard was trying to flirt with them—

Villain scooped Civilian up without warning, hoisting them into a bridal carry. They yelped in surprise as a block of cement crashed down onto the exact spot where they were laying just seconds ago.

“See?” Villain grinned at Civilian, bearing in close. “Too cute to leave behind.” Their face was near enough for Civilian’s eyes to flick down to their lips. Their grin widened in acknowledgment.

Villain turned abruptly and ran down the hallway towards the stairs, throwing the door open. Three flights down stared back, seeming infinitely long, too long.

But Villain was still smiling like they were gonna make it out of the bank on time. They looked down at Civilian, who had unconsciously fisted their hands into the lapels of Villain’s jacket.

“Yeah, just like that,” Villain said, winking at Civilian.

Civilian blinked, their mind flailing for footing. Just like what—

“Hold tight!” Villain whooped, and instead of booking it down the steps, they jumped onto the railing and slid down, handless.

Holy fucking shit. Civilian squeezed their eyes shut and held on so tight onto Villain’s jacket, stomach lurching. If the bombs didn’t take them out, then this would definitely—

They felt the Villain jump onto solid ground before they could even finish their thought. Oh.

“Aren’t you a scaredy-cat,” Villain teased, that shit-eating, infuriatingly charming grin back on their face. “Ever been on a roller coaster before?”

“No, I’ve never had fun in my life before, actually,” Civilian snapped back sarcastically.

“Hm,” Villain made their way out of the stairwell, casually walking towards the entrance as if the bank wasn’t crumbling around them. “Well, they’ve been saying amusement park dates are all the rage. Maybe this is my sign to take you out.”

Civilian fumbled for a response. Why was this criminal so good at rendering them speechless?

“You’re not saying no…” Villain murmured, exiting the building seconds before it promptly collapsed, throwing onlookers into chaos and allowing them to blend in with the crowd. The timing was almost comedic.

They slipped into an empty alley, Civilian still in their arms.

“I’m not putting you down until you say yes,” Villain urged, eyes glinting with playful mischief.

Civilian, despite themselves, rolled their eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be a bad guy? What happened to ‘Now I take you back to my spooky dark lair and lock you up and torture you until Hero comes and I fight them to the death’?”

Villain smiled, but it was warmer, more genuine this time. “I guess I prefer it when people look at my lips and clearly want to kiss me instead of looking at me like I’m a monster.”

Civilian paused, dissecting the layers of that statement before—damn them—glancing again at Villain’s perfectly kissable mouth.

Villain ran their tongue over their bottom lip, clearly toying with Civilian, but fuck, it was working.

It was the nearing wail of police sirens that shook them out of their trance. They groaned, stupefied at how they almost fell for the person who just blew up their workplace. “Please put me down.”

“And here I thought I almost had you.” Villain sighed and set Civilian down on the ground. “Unfortunately, the authorities tend to annoy me a bit, so this is where I take my leave. It was nice meeting you, sweetheart.” They bowed to Civilian and began to make their way down the alleyway.

Fuck, the way the nickname made Civilian’s stomach flutter. Fuck fuck fuck— “Disneyland, this Friday, 10 AM,” they blurted.

Villain stopped in their tracks, and although they didn’t turn around. Civilian could feel that stupid little smirk on their face.

“See you then.” Then they disappeared around the corner.

As it turns out, roller coasters really weren’t so bad when you have someone doing it with you.

I imagine elves would think that humans are pretty masculine no matter their gender like the way we think elves look feminine and dainty no matter their gender.

So imagine an elf guy who assumes that humans like to be told how big and strong they are just cus they're usually more muscular than elves. He ends up flirting with a pretty feminine looking woman the same way you would a masculine man like,

"Oh wow~ Your so stroong~ "

He touches her arm, which is not at all muscular by human standards,

"Do you work out?"

And the woman's just like “...😐 Are u making fun of me?“

And the poor elf guy is trying to figure out where he went wrong 😭😭 He just thought all humans liked being complemented on their comparatively more masculine body types.😭

this is a safe space for people who think they’re “bad” writers btw you’re not a bad writer, you’re learning and i love you

What is... Whump?

Whump is a genre in fanfiction that involves placing your character into a traumatic, physically or psychologically tormenting scenario.

It is a darker form of hurt/comfort that focuses heavily on the hurt and puts the character in jeopardy, tortures the character and tries to break them. Sometimes even without any comfort at the end.

The characters in these stories can be called:

whumpee - the character being hurt

whumper - the character causing the harm

caretaker - the character comforting

something something having a werewolf’s pups and they grow up protective of their human mom in a world of monsters

man maybe i just make a werewolf oc at this point