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@penitent-stranger
Twitchy's Writing Masterlist
I suppose if I wanted to start sharing my writing again, I should enable people to actually Find It, huh.
All stories take place in the ttrpg setting of Lancer, a self-described mud-and-lasers scifi setting in a gritty and political far-flung future. It's got corporate greed, space fascism, unknowable beings of cosmic unreality that can be downloaded onto a thumb drive, and of course, Giant Mechs.
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@whumpmasinjuly-archive
"I have her! ...I lost a few men in the process, but I would have gladly paid a hundred times that number for such a prize."
#MYSTober day 9: Rebellion.
giving all my favorite characters enormous trust issues and then forcing them into being vulnerable in front of whoever in their life is the closest to being considered a "friend". make them fearfully reveal something about themself and tremble while waiting for how the other person responds (and fully expect to be ridiculed or dismissed)
Actually you SHOULD make problematic content. You SHOULD explore dark or taboo topics. You SHOULD have a space where you can cope with your traumas or explore sensitive topics in a way that doesn't hurt anyone.
Also you should make problematic content for funsies. You don't need to have had trauma or need to be coping in order to explore dark creativity. You can just be a human who wants to explore dark and taboo topics because you want to. That's completely normal, btw.
Every single person on this planet thinks about dark and taboo things. It's literally the most normal thing in the world.
Go draw the horror porn and be free.
we should all be more like david cronenberg and write fucked up stuff. For Funsies
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℧?
(in response to this ask game)
℧: a damp towel against flushed, feverish skin
"I'm back, see?"
Whumpee barely reacted, their eyes fully closed now, though their sleep was not restful, head tossing back and forth.
Caretaker bit their lip and quickly resumed their position at Whumpee's bedside, small bowl of water and towel in hand. Soaking the cloth in the cool water, Caretaker gently dabbed it against Whumpee's forehead, washing away the sweat from their brow.
At their touch, Whumpee relaxed, eyelids fluttering in the throes of the fever.
Caretaker draped the cloth over their forehead in the hopes that the cool cloth might curb the fever.
It was all they could do.
Love a good change in sound design in visual or audio media when Whumpee is dazed and disoriented 👏 Everything echoing or being muffled or tinny or ringing, that's good stuff
An injured character has a sudden spasm of pain and can only gasp, freeze, and clutch at the nearest object as they ride it out, body curled and tense against the surge of pain washing through them, hands clenched and clinging to whatever's closest for an anchor until the pain subsides.
Ways I Show a Character is Emotionally Burned Out (Before They Even Realize It Themselves)
I love writing characters who think they’re fine but are actually walking emotional house fires with bad coping mechanisms.
They stop doing the things they used to love and don’t even notice. Their guitar gathers dust. Their favorite podcast becomes background noise. Their hobbies feel like homework now.
They pick the path of least resistance every time, even when it hurts them. No, they don’t want to go to that thing. No, they don’t want to talk to that person. But whatever’s easier. That’s the motto now.
They’re tired but can’t sleep. Or they sleep but wake up more tired. Classic burnout move: lying in bed with their brain racing like a toddler on espresso.
They give other people emotional advice they refuse to take themselves. “You have to set boundaries!” they say—while ignoring 8 texts from someone they should’ve cut off three emotional breakdowns ago.
They cry at something stupidly small. Like spilling soup. Or a dog in a commercial. Or losing their pen. The soup is never just soup.
They say “I’m just tired” like it’s a personality trait now. And not like… emotionally drained to the bone but afraid to admit it out loud.
They ghost people they love, not out of malice, but because even replying feels like too much. Social battery? Absolutely obliterated. Texting back feels like filing taxes.
They stop reacting to big things. Catastrophes get a blank stare. Disasters feel like “just another Tuesday.” The well of feeling is running dry.
They avoid being alone with their own thoughts. Constant noise. TV always on. Music blasting. Because silence = reckoning, and reckoning is terrifying.
They start hoping something will force them to stop. An accident. A missed deadline. Someone else finally telling them, “You need a break.” Because asking for help? Unthinkable.
the absolute devastating intimacy of a forehead rest. when you are both just so tired from existing in a world that demands you to be a rigid, functional individual, and you finally collapse into each other and just lean your forehead against theirs, or against their shoulder. it’s the physical equivalent of dropping your shields. it’s saying i am entirely heavy right now, and i am trusting you to bear a piece of that weight. and the most beautiful part is that the other person doesn’t even flinch. they just adjust their stance, tuck you a little closer, and absorb the impact. we were designed to divide the burden of being alive.
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Torture the medic for bonus war crimes! Not only are they not going to be able to help their comrades if they’re too injured themselves, but they will know how close you are to causing permanent damage or death better than anyone :)
hiii you should picture your character washing up on the shore, tossed like a ragdoll in the surf, soaked to the bone and shivering. they're probably covered in cuts from razor-sharp rocks and barnacle shells, the saltwater tinged with blood and stinging with every wave. the temperature and the fight to keep their head above water has completely sapped their strength, limp on the shore and exposed to the elements
As much as I love whumpees being in pain, I do love the occasional stoic whumpee high on a adrenaline (yes he will pass out from pain eventually)
Thank you for sharing your amazing writing! Here's a tippy tappy typewriter just for fun <3
;A;
Thank YOU for reading!!!
Whumpy choice time!
Which is better - the slow and seemingly never-ending dull throb and pierce of a deep wound being stitched, eventually becoming almost repetitive enough that the pain fades into the background, only for it to remain long after it's finished --
Or the quick and sudden but near excruciating pain of a cauterization, unable to prepare for even if it comes with a warning, so hot and sharp it takes the breath away and is almost as biting as the wound itself was...
Well, now we can do polls and this post came back around so....
Stitches or cauterization?
Stitches
Cauterization
what about a stitched wound becoming infected... the throbbing pain increasing over time instead of dulling, heat and swelling traveling further, skin horribly sensitive to the touch beneath stained bandages, and a weak and feverish whumpee crying out in ineffective protest as their friends have to re-open and clean the wound all over again
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consuming media like
I love when a whumpee isn't stoic but instead quiet. The pain, their anguish is so so so visible on their face, in their body language, and yet they make not a peep.
