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[sengardet]

Why Writers Don't Finish Writing Their Stories, and How to Fix It

Hello fellow writers and storytellers,

The journey of writing a story is an exhilarating adventure, but it's not without its share of obstacles. Many of us have embarked on a creative endeavor, only to find ourselves mired in the struggle to finish what we started. In this blog post, I'll unravel the common reasons why writers don't finish their stories and explore practical strategies to overcome these hurdles and reignite the flame of creativity.

The Perils of Unfinished Stories

As writers, we often find ourselves in the throes of unfinished tales, grappling with the intricate web of characters, plots, and themes. There are several reasons why the ink dries up and the story remains untold. Let's shine a light on the familiar adversaries that stand between us and the triumphant completion of our narratives:

1. Lack of Planning:

Some of us brazenly dive into our stories without a clear roadmap, resulting in uncertainty about the direction of the plot and the fate of our characters. The lack of a solid plan can lead us astray, leaving our stories wandering in the wilderness of aimlessness.

2. Self-Doubt and Perfectionism:

Ah, the relentless whispers of self-doubt and the siren call of perfectionism! These twin adversaries can cast a shadow over our creative vision, compelling us to endlessly revise and perfect the early chapters, trapping us in a whirlpool of perpetual edits.

3. Time Management:

Balancing the demands of daily life with the ardor of writing can be akin to walking a tightrope. The struggle to find consistent time for our craft often leaves our stories languishing in prolonged periods of inactivity, longing for the touch of our pen.

4. Writer's Block:

The mighty barrier that even the most intrepid writers encounter. Writer's block can be an insurmountable mountain, leaving us stranded in the valleys of creative drought, unable to breathe life into new ideas and narratives.

5. Lack of Motivation:

The flame that once burned brightly can flicker and wane over time, leaving us adrift in the murky waters of disillusionment. The initial excitement for our stories diminishes, making it arduous to stay committed to the crafting process.

6. Fear of Failure or Success:

The twin specters that haunt many writers' dreams. The apprehension of rejection and the unsettling prospect of life-altering success can tether us to the shores of hesitation, preventing us from reaching the shores of completion.

7. Criticism and Feedback Anxiety:

The looming dread of judgment casts a long shadow over our creative endeavors. The mere thought of receiving criticism or feedback, whether from peers or potential readers, can cast a cloud over our storytelling pursuits.

8. Plotting Challenges:

Crafting a cohesive and engaging plot is akin to navigating a labyrinth without a map. Faced with hurdles in connecting story elements, we may find ourselves lost in a maze of plot holes and unresolved threads.

9. Character Development Struggles:

Breathing life into multi-dimensional, relatable characters is a complex art. The intricate process of character development can become a quagmire, ensnaring us in the challenge of creating personas that drive the story forward. (Part one of Character Development Series)

10. Life Events and Distractions:

Unexpected events in our personal lives can cast ripples on our writing routines, interrupting the flow of our creativity and causing a loss of momentum.

Rallying Against the Odds: Strategies for Success

Now that we've confronted the adversaries that threaten to stall our storytelling odysseys, let's arm ourselves with strategies to conquer these barriers and reignite the flames of our creativity.

Embrace the Power of Planning:

A clear roadmap illuminates the path ahead. Arm yourself with outlines, character sketches, and plot maps to pave the way for your story's journey.

Vanquish Self-Doubt with Action:

Silence the voices of doubt with the power of progress. Embrace the imperfect beauty of your early drafts, knowing that every word brings you closer to the finish line.

Mastering the Art of Time:

Carve out sacred writing time in your schedule. Whether it’s ten minutes or two hours, every moment dedicated to your craft is a step forward.

Conquering Writer's Block:

Embrace the freedom of imperfection. Write, even if the words feel like scattered puzzle pieces. The act of writing can unravel the most stubborn knots of writer's block.

Reigniting the Flame of Motivation:

Seek inspiration in the wonders of the world. Reconnect with the heart of your story, rediscovering the passion that set your creative spirit ablaze.

Reshaping Fear into Fuel:

Embrace the uncertainty as an integral part of the creative journey. Embrace the lessons within rejection and prepare for the winds of change that success may bring.

Navigating the Realm of Criticism:

Embrace feedback as a catalyst for growth. Constructive criticism is a powerful ally, shaping your story into a work of art that resonates with readers.

Weaving the Threads of Plot:

Connect the dots with fresh eyes. Step back and survey the tapestry of your plot, seeking innovative solutions to bridge the gaps and untangle the knots.

Breathing Life into Characters:

Engage with your characters as if they were old friends. Dive into their depths, unraveling their quirks, fears, and dreams, and watch as they breathe life into your story.

Navigating Life's Tempests:

Embrace the ebb and flow of life. Every pause in your writing journey is a chance to gather new experiences and perspectives, enriching your storytelling tapestry.

The Ever-Resting Pen: Harnessing the Power Within

Fellow writers, the journey of completing a story is filled with peaks and valleys, each offering us the opportunity to sharpen our resolve and unleash our creative potential. As we stand at the crossroads, staring at the canvas of unfinished tales, let's rally against the odds, armed with the power of purpose, passion, and perseverance.

Let the ink flow once more, breathing life into tales left untold, and watch as your stories triumphantly reach their long-awaited conclusion. You possess the power to conquer the adversaries that stand in your way, and within you lies the essence of untold narratives waiting to unfurl onto the page.

Here's to the journey that lies ahead, the stories waiting to be written, and the unyielding spirit of creativity that thrives within each of us.

Warm regards and unwavering encouragement, Ren T.

[sengardet]

Damn, I'm so hyped for this >.<

[sengardet]

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The doctor revived her lifeless patient with all her might,but now she is having an angina attack... is she gonna make it?😮‍💨🫀

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come on baby, breathe

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REDEMPTION -

Many of Terra's targets have suffered tragic fates. However, as you may know, many lives can be saved through the power of passionate resuscitation/surgery.(Uncharacteristic of Terra but maybe she had a change of heart since it's just business to her) With that in mind, should these ill-fated damsels in distress be spared a second chance? May take a while as I prioritize other writings

#resus #dark cardiophilia

[sengardet]

Lifestyle of the Merciful

Amara, a stalwart dark-skinned woman from distant lands, jolted awake, gasping for air as pallid slender fingers dug into her throat. In the moonlight filtering through the window, she saw the pale face of a brunette woman above her, teeth gritted with exertion as the devil squeezed her neck.

One of her pets, a failed assassin she captured, trying to kill her yet again... The little vixen.

Amara shoved at the woman's chest, she felt a strong, rapid heartbeat pulsing under her palm. So vigorous and frantic in this delicate creature's frame. The woman was panting with desperation, pupils blown with determination... and a hint of desire? even as she tried to choke the life from Amara.

Amara knew that by all standards of this land she should end this now. Snap the woman's neck and be done with it. But that precious heart beat so vividly against her hand. And the way the woman writhed against her - poor thing was just frightened.

With a growl, Amara flipped them over, pinning the woman beneath her. Terror consumed those large hazel eyes. She pressed the flat edge of her dagger against the heaving chest, right over that frantic jumping heart.

"Is this what you want, brat?" Amara scoffed.

"Mercy, please! I know I do not deserve it but I beg of you!" the woman said in tears of regret, her heart fluttering against the cold steel, begging it not to enter her heaving chest.

The woman let out a pitiful whine, yet a strange involuntary response followed as Amara grinned and slapped the large blade threateningly against her abdomen and breast. A broken moan, body shaking as she came undone, overpowered; helpless and conquered yet again.

Amara gave off a warm smile, running the flat of the blade along a flushed cheek as the woman's legs pressed together and her body trembled in such a humiliating response to Amara's easily regained dominance.

"That's my good girl," she said as the woman looked away to hide her submissive delight, her punishment for betrayal served in the absence of intimate touch.

As her body's quaking subsided, the fight was drained out of the woman. She gazed up at Amara, eyes needy and full of shame.

"I...I'm sorry, my lady." she whimpered.

With a sigh, Amara set aside her weapon and gathered the trembling woman into her arms. She stroked her little pet's hair as the brunette curled against her chest, breath slowly evening out as her heartbeat calmed the nervous woman down.

Another night, another assassination attempt thwarted. At least her pets kept things interesting.

#dark cardiophilia #petplay #f/f #knifeplay

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Amara Diri

Age: 32 Height: 5'9 Origin: Unknown Amara Diri, an immigrant from southern lands to the frozen north has always dreamed of becoming a knight. Her appearance stands out vividly in contrast to the people in her village, but her incredible feats in service to the village has earned her a position of near royalty and the ability to avoid scrutiny of her strange ways...

#yes I know this is another character on another blog rehashed #I like the theme lol #its fine #Its her but meatier and not sci-fi #petplay makes me weak lmao

[sengardet]

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Lyria's Gift #1 Valyra

Using a knight's chest and still-beating heart to warm her hands - there was a delicious perversity to it.

As Lyria, a stocky redheaded nomad, returned from her daily hunt empty-handed, she noticed a slender platinum-blonde woman in elegant garb rummaging through her belongings. The intruder's fine regal attire and lightly armored gloves stood in stark contrast to the rustic surroundings of her campsite.

Lyria, approached cautiously, her hand instinctively gripping the handle of her axe. The tall and lithe blonde woman turned to face Lyria, a smirk playing on her lips. "Ah, the infamous Lyria Elisdor. I was searching for you."

She drew her sword, the blade gleaming in the fading light. "I am Valyra Rosewell The Third, a knight of the Northern Kingdom, and I'm here to claim your head."

Lyria readied her battle axe, brandishing a smile. “Alright, princess, Take it.”

Valyra launched forward, her sword slicing through the air. Lyria parried the blow with her axe, the clang of metal against metal ringing out across the campsite.

Lyria scoffed. "Another knight seeking glory, maybe gold?."

Valyra's eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on her sword. "I assure you, it is the honor of my kingdom I seek."

Despite the knight's agility and apparent skill with her blade, Lyria's formidable stature and strength proved to be a match for her. With a powerful counter, Lyria knocked the sword from the blonde's hand, sending it clattering in the distance.

Seizing the opportunity, Lyria tackled the woman as she ran for her blade, pinning her to the snow-covered ground while it was just out of reach.

Reaching for the rope she kept to drag prey, Lyria bound the woman's wrists together, rendering her helpless.

"Please, no... I beg you! Allow me my sword, that was a clumsy slip!" the woman gasped.

Lyria flashed a cold smile. "You should have thought about that before you tried to kill me." She ran rope across the woman’s mouth, silencing her protests to muffled gurgles.  

With the woman secured, Lyria sat back, catching her breath. Tears welled in the distraught eyes of her captive, a mistake costing both life and honor as she accepts her looming death at Lyria’s hands.

Lyria carried the flailing woman into her tent and laid her down roughly on the dirt floor. Confusion filled those large frosty blue eyes before they landed on the hunting knife in Lyria’s hand, its blade glinting in the dim firelight.

The helpless woman whimpered and pleaded weakly, terror consuming her delicate features. Lyria ignored her pitiful display while pinning her in place with a knee on her heaving chest.

She carefully and silently sliced the woman's upper belly, a stream of blood welled up and pooled in Valyria’s abdomen. The woman let out an agonized moan as the blade slowly pushed inward, certain of her impending end as Lyria seemed to take joy in such a lengthy execution.

…But Lyria had different plans.

The woman's body heat called to her, a furnace in this frozen wasteland. She slid the blade out and plunged her numb, icy hands into the gaping wound. Exquisite warmth engulfed her fingers as she probed the slick, pulsating organs, siphoning precious heat. Valyra’s muffled voice cried out in deep discomfort.

Lyria gasped as her hand saught deeper into Valyra's torso, pushing through the woman's innards. The knight's liver and stomach squelched and shifted beneath her touch, making way for the intruding digits that probed mercilessly into her core.

"What’s wrong, little princess? You’re alive, aren’t you?" Lyria smiled. "Your insides feel divine. As you see, there’s nothing to start a fire with out here, so warmth is hard to come by."

Lyria felt around for the cut she made in Valyra's diaphragm stretch and then pushed her wrists through with a wet pop. The knight jerked and choked out a gurgling cry, back arching as Lyria's arm sank into her chest cavity.

"Shh, shh..." Lyria hushed, curling her fingers around the thundering heart, groaning in relief. It quivered like a frightened animal against her cold intruding palms, fluttering desperately in the shock of her grip.

Concern filled Lyria’s eyes and she gently compressed and massaged the organ to settle its pace, like a bellows stoking a flame, coaxing it to keep pumping, to provide her with its feverish heat. Its panicked rhythm reverberated through her arms as every inch of the woman’s insides pulsed with its tempo.

The woman shuddered and whimpered, nerves alight with agony and inner disturbance.

Valyra's ribs creaked and flexed around the impaling limbs, violated body squeezing its soft vital organs around the invading arms in feeble protest. Her shuddering lungs enveloped Lyria's hand in their warm, spongy embrace, compressing with each labored breath. The knight's body was powerless to stop it, to do anything but elicit an amused, perversely adoring grin across the redhead’s lips.

"That's it," Lyria whispered. "Good girl. Keep your precious little heart beating for me, nice and strong." Conquering the threat of her feeble companion's death, Lyria sat in perverse comfort as she passively extracted warmth from the knight's delicate core. She was finally able to appreciate the magnificent firmness and vigor of the organ. For such a slight woman, the knight had a surprisingly hefty and powerful heart, no doubt forged by years of rigorous training and battle. Its angry protests kicking into her with every contraction, even as the rest of Valyra's body lay helpless and defeated.

Valyra silently prayed for the blissful release of unconsciousness, to be freed from the violation and humiliation of those cruel hands playing with her very core…But her heart, her treacherous, resilient heart, refused to still, no matter how much its rhythm stuttered and strained. It labored on under Lyria's ruthless manipulations, condemning her to endure every disgraceful second of this nightmare.

#dark cardiophilia #heart torture #f/f #internal heart play #prolonged heart torment #uncertain ending

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Lyria Elisdor

Age: 28

Height: 5'6

Preferred Weapon: Battle Axe Lyria is a nomad. Once a soldier in a large kingdom, her brutal honesty and short temper led to conflicts with the ruling powers, forcing her to leave and become a wanderer in the frozen plains.

Living in a tent amidst the harsh, unforgiving landscape, Lyria must constantly be on guard against knights and assassins from the kingdom who come to claim her head for honor and reward.

Should these would-be assailants fail in their mission, as they have thus far, they will not find an honorable death at Lyria's savage hands.

[sengardet]

I’m fckn back: Divigno cpr.

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my tumblr experience:

*likes yuri* *likes yuri* *likes yuri* *likes shitpost* *likes yuri* *likes yuri* *likes political post* *likes yuri* *likes yuri* *likes shitpost* *likes yuri* *likes yuri* *likes yu

[sengardet]

The senior assassin straddled her trainee's victim, who lay dazed and helpless from the fast-acting poison coursing through her veins. The poor gal thought she was going to have a night of fun.

The assassin pressed the stethoscope to the woman's heaving chest. The victim's heart pounded vigorously, each beat thundering through the stethoscope and into her palm. "good job." the woman said to the trainee in a monotone voice.

She glanced up at her apprentice, a young woman eager to prove herself, who sat poised beside the victim's head. The assassin nodded toward their target's mouth, which gasped desperately for air like a fish out of water.

"Remember, you only pass this poison test once her heart stops completely," the assassin said calmly, not one to linger for more than she has to.

The rookie's eyes shone with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. She understood. Leaning down, she clamped her hands tightly over the victim's mouth and nose, cutting off her airway.

The woman bucked and writhed under them, her body's final futile attempt to cling to life. But the rookie held firm, all her training and preparation culminating in this pivotal moment. Soon the victim's struggling weakened and finally ceased altogether as the last flickers of life extinguished.

The assassin listened intently through the stethoscope, hearing the woman's frantic heartbeat slow, falter, and at last fall silent. It was done. She looked up at her apprentice and smiled.

"Well done."

#dark cardiophilia #prolonged heart stopping #cardiophile video clip

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Assassin's Encounter (Part 2)

Continued from:

Sophie's eyes fluttered open slowly, squinting against the harsh fluorescent lights shining down on her from the sterile white ceiling. As her vision came into focus, her heart started racing with panic, the frantic beeping of the ECG monitor filling the small windowless room. She tried to sit up but found her wrists and ankles bound tightly to the cold metal exam table.

The door clicked open, and Terra walked in, her slender dark fingers trailing along Sophie's pale thigh.

"Hello, my darling, welcome to the basement. like it?" Terra said softly, her full lips curling into a seductive smile.

Sophie swallowed hard. "What...what are you going to do to me?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"Shhh, don't be frightened," Terra said, circling a finger around Sophie's chest. "You see, I'm doing some… let’s say, flash course… medical training and I need a subject for practice. those stupid plastic torsos won’t do." Her hand slid higher, fingers curling around Sophie's delicate throat. "And you, my cute little assassin, are the perfect specimen for me to work on."

Sophie's pulse raced under Terra's grip, delighting the madwoman.

Terra pulled the crash cart closer, its wheels rattling on the tile floor. She reluctantly released the woman's neck to flip the defibrillator on with the beep and hum of charging capacitors. Sophie squirmed against her restraints, blonde hair splayed across the table, her lithe anatomy naked and exposed in a pathetic display.

"How long do you plan on keeping me like this!?" Sophie panted; blue eyes wide and terrified.

Terra ignored the question, focused on her task. She unscrewed the cap on a bottle of conductive gel with a soft pop. Tilting the container, she squeezed a generous dollop of translucent blue goo onto the pale curves of Sophie's heaving chest.

The assassin's breath caught at the cold sensation. Goosebumps rippled across her skin. Terra pressed the paddles to the top right and left side of Sophie's chest, framing her heart, massaging the slick gel over Sophie in firm circular motions.

"I've got you now," she murmured, speaking to the quivering cornered organ pounding between the flat metal pads.

A jolt of electricity surged through Sophie's pale body, causing it to stiffen and arch off the table. Heaving gasps filled her buzzing chest as her heart raced erratically. Terra's dark fingers adjusted the defibrillator, readying another shock.

“Wait! Wait!” Sophie screamed, back bowing as the current seared through her. The frenzied beeping of the heart monitor filled the room as a dull ache and unsteady throbbing replaced the feeling of her pulse.

Terra watched the erratic peaks on the EKG, biting her lip in anticipation. Almost there. Sophie could only take so much, and the precious thing was putting up a fight. More. She needed more. She pushed the machine to the max.

Another shock. Sophie convulsed, jaw clenching, tendons straining in her elegant neck. The erratic beeping grew more frantic, fighting against the inevitable. Sophie’s labored breaths the only steady thing going on in her body. Her pitiful eyes searching for an end.

Then finally one more shock and… success. The rapid beeps merged into one continuous tone as Sophie's tortured heart seized and fell still. Her body went limp as her consciousness slowly faded without a heartbeat. Terra grinned in triumph - she'd pushed Sophie right to the very edge. Now to train on the best canvas money can’t buy, a still heart in need.

Setting aside the defibrillator paddles by the syringes of adrenaline and atropine, Terra began chest compressions, ready to restart Sophie's helpless little heart.

The game was only just beginning. Its ending dictated by Terra’s cruelty or compassion, but one thing was for certain…

Regardless of what won out, Terra’s twisted adoration, her possessiveness over the hapless delicate little creature beneath her would ensure neither outcome lead to freedom or finality any time soon.

#dark cardiophilia #defib #defib on beating heart #resus toy #f/f

[sengardet]

beautiful compressions

Heyy ❤ we tried cpr! We also tried to record G's heartbeat while doing it but we failed hah, that was new to us and I have to say that we enjoyed it quite a bit, maybe we will do it again sometime 😏