#.theywrite

[ventilaccion]

Help, a cry from the dark, feral, ripping at ones hair unseemingly, never to see daylight, running away into the shadows, to forever be confined in the dark, to rip flesh to shreds with only the brute strength of ones teeth, gleaming in the moonlight - slick with blood, crying beside a dismangled corpse, cursed.

[luke-life]

Unless something bigger happens this will probably be my last post on Natlan. Until release at least.

My opinion on people saying "what did you except" and "why ask for better" and "why play this game"

Because when they research and write and design the environments, it is done with so much care and makes it clear that theywriting. Time and respect to put real world influences in the architecture, and lore writing, in a fictional game.

Like from the brief shots in the teaser for natlan the environments look absolutely beautiful , like the ball game they are seems to be the Maya ballgame.

So idk if the character designers are completely different with the writers or something but hyv has put in their research all we're asking is that part research goes into the characters and how they look.

[thesituationroom]

why did theywrite this song

[the-sunshine-dragon]

hello!!! 1, 6, 18 and 20 for the asks? <3

Hello my dear <33

1. *sweats nervously* 

This isn’t an exact count, because my lists to keep track of things are a little screwy atm, but it’s somewhere around 60. I wish I was kidding. And those are projects I have written words for, never mind the list of ideas. 

6. Well. boarding by theywrite I think did XD

18. For fic reading, I always, always have read it at night before bed, unless it's a particularly long fic that has me hooked, then I read it whenever until I'm finished. With writing, no, not really? I tend to do sprints with friends most of the time and I'm always listening to music, but otherwise I don't have a routine routine.

20. Oh do I >:)

@redpiperfox is one of my favourite authors

This fic by hotelcortez

And this series by @maelstromdeparture

[hebhobemjoyer]

itwas pribby good i jus finish it theywrited a seqel as wel but its idontfeellike reading nat 1. im gona ummmmmm writing probly

are um. you guys okay???

yea we had lunch 👍 are YOU ok if all this happened while job

[sleepytiredgf]

imagine being able to browse your favorite ships tag without every 3 posts being bad takes about one of the characters or the ship itself, couldn’t be catradora stans.

[bubblegumdicc]

Warning for detailed noncon under the cut. word count-less than 1k characters included-oscar. this is canon. there is a second part to this, so if noncon bothers you, just wait for the second part.

Oscar pulled futilely on the restraints to his hands, ones he'd normally be able to break. He couldn't this time though, not with whatever drug was coursing through him. He could still move, still pull, he just felt weak. There was no force to the movement, no strength. His legs were tied as well, though in a different fashion, loosely to two metal rings in the floor. He wasn't entirely sure how he had gotten here, but that probably was an effect of the drug too. He had his legs pressed together, growling out when he was prodded by the hand again. He felt so angry, he wanted to rip their throat out with his teeth. The larger man leaned over him, quite a feat when oscar was so big, speaking with an amused tone, clear malice behind it “spread your legs.” oscar growled, face to the ground, he glared up at him, eyelights flickering in clear resistance and anger. The man laughed, seeming unaffected, unworried. The malice in his tone doubling as he gripped oscars back, claws digging in painfully through his sweater “thought you said you wanted to be taken instead of your little boyfriend. Change your mind? Because it would be so easy to fetch him instead. Wouldnt even hav’ta drug him..”

oscars teeth clenched together, he stared at the wall, his mind racing and blank at the same time. He had no choice. He turned his face more toward the floor, forcing himself to spread his legs against everything inside him screaming to fight. He had no choice. The man laughed lightly, “thats what I thought.” the claws pulled from his back, hand sliding over and behind him to his pussy. Forced pussy. Whatever mix of drugs they gave him included aphrodisiacs, forcing some sort of sub heat.  He sure at hell wasn't enjoying or  wanting it though. He held back the growl in his throat as he felt fingers pressing inside him, stretching him. He knew what was happening. There was nothing he could do about it. He just tried to focus on the feeling of the hard floor beneath him, focus on anything but his own body. The man pressed something larger to his entrance, oscar stared straight ahead at the wall, counting the tiles. They pressed into him,and he couldnt help the tensing of his body, god, that really hurt, it felt like his walls were on fire as he was thrusted into, though the pain was slowly getting overtaken by whatever aphrodisiacs theyd given him. He felt sick as his body reacted to it, building up to orgasm. He clenched his teeth and hands into tight fists, focusing as hard as he could on the wall, the floor, anything else. He could hear their voice, they were saying something, something about how oscar was getting what he deserved for what he did, but oscar was blocking it out. He refused to listen to whatever they were saying, he didnt want those words stuck in his head. an overwhelming disgusting feeling flooded his body when he came, body jerking and tightening around the unwanted appendage inside him, he huffed out against the floor, trying to pretend this wasnt happening, that this was just him and monty playing around with toys or something, but god, that was hard to do when the sounds and scents around him were anything but montys or his comfortable and safe home, especially the gross cackle of the man fucking him.

 He tried to block out the laughed words of how much of a filthy slut he was for actually getting off to this. Oscar knew it was no use to yell back the logic of the drugs or bodily reactions, it didn't matter. It didn't matter, because in the end, he still felt disgusting. The larger mans pace picked up, thumping into him hard and and he felt the cock inside him twitch as it let lose its load before pulling out, shooting more on his ass and thighs.

He felt sick to his stomach, really sick. his stomach rolling and he lurched forward, covering his mouth and gasping as he tried not to barf in his bed.  He stared straight ahead, hands shaking as the cold metal room slowly fuzzed away from his vision, leaving a familiar room in its wake. Monty shifted next to him, a heavy sleeper. Thankfully oscar hadn't screamed himself awake. 

There was a noticeable feeling in his pants though, a wet dripping pussy. He felt his stomach lurch again and he tried to get up without waking monty to rush to the bathroom and barf the contents of what theyd eaten for dinner into the toilet. 

Of course now hed woken monty, who came in to check on him “oscar? Ya ok?” oscar wasnt able to force a smile right now, not with the awful taste in his mouth and the remnants of the dream in his head. He mumbled, keeping his face over the toilet “yeah, 'm ok.. think dinner didnt agree with me..” monty rubbed his eyes and patted oscar on the back, oscar couldnt help his reaction of tensing up at the touch when the dream was so fresh. Monty frowned worriedly “maybe yer cold is back.. we should go to the doctors.” oscar shrugged in response, relaxing into montys touch now “i think im ok.. lemme brush my teeth and ill be back in bed, doll.” --part one end

[patrice-bergerons]

okhiSO onemorningmy carraville heart afterhaving read everysinglefic ever had anIDEA"Y notask all my favewriters 2 do achallenge inwhich theywrite a carravillefic in 15mins??"What couldgo wrong??BASICALLYfor ifurbored af. thechallenge isthat u comeup with an idea&once u start typing set a15min timer&nomore. makesure you tag it #15minsofcarraville (catchyrighf)&we can allread eachother's fics&it'll be cosy like asleepoverANYWAYthx for listeningsorry ifthisweirded u outand have agreat dayPEACE

Duuuddeee this is such a great idea, thank you for thinking of it!!! I’m also always looking for more Carraville to read! And like if it’s *only 15 min* by default then it need not be a Scary Writing Commitment. The only problem on my end is that I’ve met snails who write faster than me so this is…not a lot. Anyway, I hope it is to your liking!

Gary knew when he invited Carra to a family barbecue (or rather when he got his mum to throw a family barbecue so that he could invite Carra to it) that it could turn out to be a huge mistake. After all, Gary’s family was staunchly United when they weren’t giving Everton a cheer and Carra was… his colleague and as Liverpool as you could get. Carra could end up spending the day feeling left out, or worse made fun of, and it would serve to highlight just how different their worlds were after all. It could be a disaster.

“Is that Gary crying on the toilet seat?” Carra said pointing to the family album Tracey was holding on her lap. He had a beer in his hand, looked perfectly at home in his lawn chair and his face was encompassed in a smile of pure delight. “Mind if I take a picture?”

Gary was wrong. In fact he had never been more wrong in his life. Carra got along with his family famously. Gary wanted to gouge all their eyes out with the tongs he was using for the barbecue.

“Yeah, funny story that–” Phil replied from the chair next to Tracey. Phil’s face was also encompassed in a smile of pure delight.

No. Not the story with the toilet seat. Jamie Carragher of all people, with the easy smile and the cheekbones and eyes Gary could never decide were blue or grey had no business hearing the story with the toilet seat.

[a-ship-is-safe-in-harbor]

okhiSO onemorningmy carraville heart afterhaving read everysinglefic ever had anIDEA"Y notask all my favewriters 2 do achallenge inwhich theywrite a carravillefic in 15mins??"What couldgo wrong??BASICALLYfor ifurbored af. thechallenge isthat u comeup with an idea&once u start typing set a15min timer&nomore. makesure you tag it #15minsofcarraville (catchyrighf)&we can allread eachother's fics&it'll be cosy like asleepoverANYWAYthx for listeningsorry ifthisweirded u outand have agreat dayPEACE

I PROMISE I’LL TRY!! AND TRY NOT TO CHEAT! 

SUCH A COOL IDEA ANON!

[carraville]

okhiSO onemorningmy carraville heart afterhaving read everysinglefic ever had anIDEA"Y notask all my favewriters 2 do achallenge inwhich theywrite a carravillefic in 15mins??"What couldgo wrong??BASICALLYfor ifurbored af. thechallenge isthat u comeup with an idea&once u start typing set a15min timer&nomore. makesure you tag it #15minsofcarraville (catchyrighf)&we can allread eachother's fics&it'll be cosy like asleepoverANYWAYthx for listeningsorry ifthisweirded u outand have agreat dayPEACE

oh my god OK THIS IS simultaneously the greatest idea of All Time as well as the most terrible bc i take 3 weeks to write anything that resembles something but YES PLEASE DO THIS BC IT WOULD BE AMAZING AND I WILL TRY TO DO THE THING N NOT BE EMBARRASSING

[ventilaccion]

Who am I? One in a million. What am I? Of shadows and stars. Where am I? In front of a branch unknowing that the choice determine the tragedies to follow. // Shorter than I ought to be, longer than I should.

[aphroditesdarkhorse-blog]

#thisis #laceystrum #theformer #leadsinger of #flylife #theyrea #christianrockband #ilovethem #theywrite #theirsongs #aboutgod #butitdoesnt #comeacross #likethat #itsnotprechy #lacey is so #beautiful #sexy #hot #asa #satanist #idlove #tosinwithher #thethoughtissohot #sheistalented #withouther #tome #noflyleaf (at Americana Estates of Casco)

[ventilaccion]

While I looked at flowers, at sprinkles from rushing water, at the colours of the sky, they were obsessed with the idea of success. Meanwhile I was completely captivated/consumed/enamoured in believing that the universe could be described with one single formula. 

Like that one character in movies - my head was constantly in the clouds. And like those characters, I was always somewhat out of touch with reality. And inevitably, I was separated from the others. Often I looked at them, and craved to be a part of the group. Yet, looking at them repulsed me. It was revolting to see them - like watching a crowd of lions digging their noses into the stomach of a panting zebra, ripping out the entrails (they eat the entrails first because most of the micronutrition they need are in those parts, I saw a documentary later on the lions in the wild and realized that perhaps we were always meant to suffer - like the zebra still breathing while blood and bowel gushes out from the wound in it’s stomach. And perhaps we tolerate less pain now, and are constantly afraid of the idea of pain. And perhaps death is not as intolerable an idea anymore to many because the extreme pain connected with death is no longer there). 

I wondered how it feels to be the zebra, with everyone crouched around you - a feast and you are at the center. 

I was horrified. I was fascinated. 

[ventilaccion]

I lie on the floor and a morbid thought came across my mind - I saw myself putting my head in the doorframe, bashing the door close open close open until blood dripped from the mashed mess.

[ventilaccion]

Because one can go around in the world unaware of oneself and be happy, but once one by chance meets his own shadow on the journey- thereby seeing his whole self, there is no unseeing what has been discovered/uncovered.

The terror. The terror of one's own shadow.

The fear, the fear of our shadow hunting us.

It will always know where to find us. It will never leave us alone. It will follow you wherever you go, and there will not be a single day without worry// where you are not weary of the dark.//You will never cease to be afraid (even as you live your last hours, until your last breath, (when you finally close your eyes and the shadow merges, you become one, and nothing) from earth we are and back to earth we return)

[ventilaccion]

Recently, I’ve grown to like Queen. This is inspired by “Love of my life”.

“You took my heart.”

“I know,” she whispered in the dark. He couldn’t see her expression. Inhaling, he opened his mouth to speak, but stops. There was nothing more to say. He wanted her to return his heart, he wanted it back. Yet, he knew better than anyone that his heart would stay with her. 

She left him. 

In the darkness, he heard the soft patter of rain against the window. A car drove by, a beam of floodlight cast across the room. Then again - darkness. He froze like that, for how long he did not know. It could be minutes. Or hours. She left and not only did she take the floor beneath him - she’d taken the carpet, the walls, the air. Everything. 

She’d taken his heart. And deserted him.

(What was he to do now - with no heart?)