#author issues

[lazylazysblog]

[SUONIREI] MINE

TW: Cannibalism, blood

If you're not okay with this kind of story, please skip. I always wanted to write suonirei in this kind of story, so... I apologize.

It had been two days. Two days since Nirei’s body had gone cold. Two days since the light that filled Suo's world had flickered out forever.

The funeral preparations moved forward, cold and unrelenting like the ticking of a clock. The others tried to console Suo, patting his back, offering words that felt hollow and insubstantial. They didn’t understand. How could they? They hadn't seen the way Nirei’s laughter lit up the darkest of nights. They hadn’t felt the way his presence was like the warmth of spring after a bitter winter. Suo had lost not just a lover but a piece of himself, a piece he wasn’t ready to let go of.

And today was the day. Nirei's body would be cremated, reduced to nothing more than ash and memory. The thought sent a cold blade slicing through Suo’s chest. He couldn't bear it. He couldn’t let them destroy the only tangible remnant of the person who had given his life meaning.

He sat alone in the small room that had once been theirs, his mind was full of agony. His hands trembled as he clenched the edge of the table, his breath coming in shallow, erratic bursts. No. I can’t let them take him. I won’t.

The decision crystallized in his mind as clear as ice. Suo’s gaze flicked to the leather eyepatch he had discarded on the dresser. He didn’t need both eyes to see the truth—if Nirei couldn’t stay with him in life, then he would remain with him in another way. Forever.

Hours later, Suo’s apartment was silent except for the soft hum of a fan. The space was suffused with a sickly sweet scent—not entirely floral, but close. Nirei lay on the dining table, surrounded by beds of white lilies, chrysanthemums, and roses. Their purity framed the still figure like a saint in repose. His blond hair was still messy, framing his boyish face, now pallid and waxy. His dark brown eyes were mercifully shut, as though he were only sleeping.

Suo’s hands shook as he traced a finger along Nirei’s jawline. His face was cold, but still beautiful. Majestic, even. Tears blurred Suo’s vision, but he forced himself to smile. Nirei hated seeing him cry.

“You look perfect,” Suo whispered. He brought a hand to his own face, wiping away the dampne“ss. “You’ll always be perfect.”

The butcher knife gleamed under the dim light, the metal catching Suo’s reflection. His hands shook as he set the plate, the utensils, the wine glass. This was madness—he knew that. But love had never been rational.

Suo knelt beside Nirei, resting his head on the lifeless chest that would no longer rise and fall with breath. He inhaled deeply, trying to capture the faintest trace of Nirei's scent. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, tears spilling over his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Nire-kun.”

He picked up the butcher knife.

The first cut was the hardest. Suo’s hand hesitated, hovering above the pale flesh, unable to press down. He’s already gone, he told himself. You’re not hurting him. He closed his eye, summoning every ounce of willpower, and brought the blade down.

The blade slid into Nirei’s arm, just beneath the shoulder, splitting the pale skin. Crimson welled up, sluggish and thick, staining the flowers beneath him. Suo’s breath hitched, and for a moment, his composure cracked. He dropped the knife, collapsing to his knees beside the table.

“Nire-kun...” he sobbed, gripping Nirei’s lifeless hand. “Why did you have to go? You promised we’d stay together, no matter what.” His voice broke, and he buried his face against Nirei’s cold fingers.

The room was silent except for his muffled cries. Minutes passed—maybe hours. When Suo finally lifted his head, his tears had dried, leaving salt trails on his cheeks. He inhaled deeply, steadying himself. He had to do this. For Nirei.

The next cut was surer. Suo worked methodically, though his tears never stopped falling. He carved away the flesh with precision. Each slice felt like both a desecration and a devotion. He began with Nirei’s arms, taking only small pieces at first. The skin was pale and smooth, unmarred except for faint scars, a result of Nirei's dedication to protecting his loved ones.

When he was done, Suo lit a candle and sat at the table, his trembling fingers gripping the fork and knife. He stared at the plate before him, his stomach churning with nausea and dread. But beneath it all, there was something else—an all-consuming need to keep Nirei with him.

He took the first bite.

The taste was indescribable—a mixture of salt from his tears and the metallic tang of flesh. Suo gagged, his body rejecting the act even as his mind screamed for him to continue. He forced the food down, his throat burning, his chest heaving with suppressed sobs.

Each bite was a battle, each swallow a betrayal of the man he had loved more than life itself. But Suo pressed on, his tears falling uncontrollably, his muttered apologies filling the silent room. He imagined Nirei smiling at him, forgiving him, telling him that it was okay.

He continued. Bite after bite, piece after piece. He worked his way across Nirei’s body, carving away flesh, muscles, and sinews. He cooked some of the portions, searing them in a hot pan, while others he consumed raw, savoring the raw intimacy of it.

The room grew heavier with the scent of iron and charred meat. Blood soaked into the flowers, turning the white petals a deep, macabre crimson. The once-beautiful tableau had become a grotesque parody of a feast, but Suo didn’t care. Each bite brought him closer to Nirei, binding them together.

The hours bled together as Suo continued his macabre feast. He didn’t stop until there was nothing left, until the plate was empty, until Nirei was a part of him in the most literal sense.

When it was over, Suo collapsed onto the table, his body shaking with the force of his sobs. "You’re with me now," he choked out. "You’ll always be with me."

The days that followed were a haze. Suo carried on as though nothing had happened, his outward demeanor as calm and composed as ever. But inside, he was shattered.

Sometimes, he swore he could hear Nirei’s voice, soft and cheerful, like it had been in life. Other times, he felt a warmth in his chest, as though Nirei were still there, still holding him, still loving him.

And maybe he was.

Because Suo had done the unthinkable, and though the world might call him mad, Suo didn’t care.

Nirei was his. Forever.

[selenekallanwriter]

[ellowynthenotking]

I never know how much to share about my stories, cause like, I don't want to spoil it but I also want to info dump at length

[madeofmosaic]

the very hard choice of passing math class and writing a poem😔😔

[geekthefreakout]

I imagine the greatest fic scenes in my head. I've just moved myself to tears with one. But I know if I write it down it won't come out the same way, so I guess it's going to stay in my head.

Such is the story of 90% of the fics I come up with. Sigh.

[ectterna]

when you stutter but can’t write stutters..

[jooeeydee]

Does anyone else sometimes get sad and insecure about mulitple chapter stories they write and post on ff.net oder AO3 and receive 50, 100, 200, + kudos but only one maybe two to five people from those comment regularly and with that let you know if someone is even still reading and enjoying your story.

I do primarily write for myself and I would still write if no one gave me any feedback but it would just be nice sometimes if people shared how they felt about the chapters I post.

Did they like it? Did they hate it? Did I catch them by surprise? What did or didn't they like?

This way it just leaves me in limbo and I have no clue if people even still read it or if I'm writing it for myself and could just as well not go trough the trouble of posting it.

I don't know I'm usually fine with it but every once in a while I get sad that after hours upon hours of writing, researching, editing,... people can't even take the time to write a short comment, just to let me know people are still reading it. Is it too much to ask for after you spent the time it took for you to read it to stay another minute or two to give me a sign? There really isn't any other way for me to know.

I guess I'm just in a weird mood and it's a weird day.

It would just be nice to know if anyone even still cares about the story.

[yukiwhitetm]

I did so well with writing yesterday and a couple days before that. I was so proud of myself for finally, finally getting back to writing after stagnating in my sorrow for so long. I even got my laptop out to write again today. I thought I was on a roll! Except now, I just feel sad. I... I can't help but think of how proud my late friends would be of me for continuing to write... and I find myself filled with grief and anguish. I miss them.

I'll never be able to ring them and tell them how my writing is going ever again.

[vinetae]

when you're feeling insecure about your writing so you go to read an ACTUAL published book and you realize your writing is better.

[kriz-smthn]

[thatdeltathing]

There's a spelling error in there, it's supposed to say "lift me up." But I'm too lazy to change it. Anyway this one is about my mother.

[studentinspace]

I've just realized that the majority of the things I've posted on here about my Novel characters is Porthos and Nexus who are not even a cannon ship in their own universe 👀

[ellowynthenotking]

It's time for me to try traditionally publishing

Life is going to heck in a hand basket, so I'm going to see if I can try what I've always wanted to do and make a living off writing.

I've got quite a few projects that are in various stages of done.

And, thanks to the events outside of my control, I feel just insane enough to try to finish and publish them!

Here's the plan so far

Goals:

Make a list of agents

Make a list of agencies

Make a list of publishers

Go through my projects and identify books/projects/anything workable really

Identity project genres and come up with connections

Write good blurbs for each project

Write letters to send to agents/agencies/publishers

Send 100 letters

Receive 100 rejections or one full approval

Rough Timeline

Gather all lists components before September 14th

Have all blurbs, lists, and letters written before the end of September

Send 100 letters by December 30th

If no approvals are received by Dec 30th, make a new plan

My ultimate goal though is just to get through the situation I've landed in. This is all hopes and dreams, sure, but we'll see how it turns out.

Here's hoping.

[madeofmosaic]

me: aight, I'll finally write something tonight! *opens up empty word file* *gets scared because its EMPTY* .... okay maybe not

[kitteningotham]

Sooooo…

I reread Percy Jackson and the Olympians. I know, I know, it was a bad idea. I can practically hear you guys screaming. The issue is, my brain can’t let go of those characters now, and I feel compelled to write PJO fanfiction, which may slow down my DC stuff a bit. Obviously I’ll still be a Gothamite at heart, but I can’t stop thinking of AUs and other things, so my content may shift for a little bit. Thanks for reading, love you all so much! :) <33

[reallybadblackoutpoems]

secrets of farming (1863) - john w. large

"yeowch augh taking damage ough eurgh"