‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ . luca's word hoard . ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ writing!!


heyy, luca, he/him. i'm a singer/songwriter/writer/poet/conlanger and a lot more this thread is for sharing my writing! i also will use it for SWC, but it'll contain other personal things too note, each of my SWC posts will have whether its a daily/weekly, prompt, and word count for ease. i'm in BST till october, then its GMT.. then in march its back to BST.. uhhh yeah!! hope you enjoy, i'm open to advice! i love writing so much and am grateful to have a way of sharing it with others <33

29.6.2026 / the lens

why do we cherish the butterfly, colors bright and gay,
yet shun the moth, with its dull array?

(soo short but it just came to me,,, also very simple. and to be frank unoriginal.. but that's okay, cause i make poetry for myself :D )

30.6.2026 / there's hope

the water enveloped her, embraced her, held her
arctic touch gentle as the wind
that brings the waves to touch the clouds

but back down again they always come
back to her, back to their home.

the velvet grass welcomed her, encircled her, cocooned her
dewdrops sparkling like the stars above
that drift across the sky each night

but even when the day breaks they're still out there
hidden behind the blue, floating in the air.

the sun's golden rays warmed her, soothed her, loved her
her smile became as bright as its beams
that ring the earth and birth new life

but although nightfall has them flinching from the dark
they return again, always, with another spark.

(i'm not gonna say the literal meaning of this poem, but it does have relevance to me, so. it's open to interpretation though!

SWC 2/6/26 DAILY: MISHEARD LYRICS 590 words, 600 points for daily (+200 for providing proof)

“nails bleed as i carve all of the graves”

misheard lyrics from “drink” by destroy boys- actual lyrics are “nails bleed as i claw out of the grave”

the girl comes every afternoon, weaving staunchly through the streets of her prosaic town. her pale, flaxen hair draping down her shoulders, swaying as she walks with quiet purpose. slender fingers gripping her pouch of tools, worn and rusted. despite their weariness, she clings to them, too sentimental to discard the instruments.
she touches the iron gate with a pallid hand and it rasps open, parting for her languidly. shoes clicking on the asphalt, then crunching on the gravel; she scouts for an inspiration. quartz and granite slabs surround her, piercing through the damp earth like teeth. row after row, crooked and crumbling. yet she is awash with a beauty that entrances her, the empty calmness that encircles her. she observes a pillar of limestone, corners softened by the rain, tucked beneath the curtain of a willow.
beside her, the river swirls, water lapping against the banks of reeds. she assembles her tools, wielding a chisel and hammer, and begins to carve.
the weak, forgotten stone shaves away, transforming as she hews the excess away. forms begin to emerge, delicate and spindly: wings sprouting from a back; curls tumbling down a bare collarbone; the sweeping fabric, twirled around the feeble body; the lips and nose, angelic but defined. she works swiftly, carefully, intricately sculpting the minute details. the clouds above darken and rumble, urging her to hasten her toil.
she blows her golden hair from her face, eyes slitted in her assiduity. her short nails scrape the stone, blood pooling in her desiccated cuticles. even as her knuckles grow red and her wrists cramp, she doesn't let her implements drop until she is satisfied.
the first rain falls thinly through the leaves and branches, gradually saturating her hair and clothes. though her hair plasters to her cheeks, she persists, chiselling the weary hands, wrapped in anguish around the waist. the locks of hair, graced by a laurel crown. the eyes, blank and motionless, but somehow conveying such fervent emotion.
the girl stops, arms falling to her sides. rain pours around her, and she knows her futile creation is merely ephemeral, soon to be degraded back to the block of soulless memorial it was. but her task is complete, and so the slightest grin dances on her face as she gathers her belongings and exits, dreaming of tomorrow's recipient.

✮

she arrives once again, as the clocktower chimes, toll ringing out. she tenderly approaches her previous construction, hidden behind the swaying boughs. pulling them aside, she freezes.
the statue is coated in elegant rose, the lips and cheeks varnished with glossy paint. the eyes have been stained rich, mulberry-tinted brown, obscured slightly by the auburn tresses, coiling and vivid. the ivory dress, pinned with gold that matches the laurel upon the figure's head, appears as thin as gossamer. the girl reaches out to touch it, fingertips kissing the cold monument.
she circles it, beguiled. none of her other works have been touched. someone has chosen this one, to sweep in color and life. as she paces, contemplating, she notices a square of paper, folded and laid at the base.
reaching for it, she unfurls the page and prepares to decipher whatever message is scrawled on it; but rather than being met with an address or number, she sees only a drawing.
sketched in ink, she beholds a messy but deliberate imitation of michelangelo's “the creation”. and, written in minuscule font beneath it, is 4 words:

“meet tomorrow, first effigy”

she grins and clasps it to her chest. finally, she'd found a friend.



(yep!! lore if anyone cares is that she is super introverted and is just the weird girl in her small middle-of-nowhere town, but now she's found someone who likes the same stuff as her!!

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun 728 words


The ivory sand beneath Mel’s feet radiated the heat, blurring the roads in the distance. The beach was crowded with toddlers, running and shrieking as they played with the sand; teens like Mel, chatting idly with their friends or swimming in the waves; and parents, catching up with friends as they reclined under umbrellas with their sun hats and smoothies.
Mel swept her gaze across the shore, searching for the bright aqua flash of Amara’s hair. She spotted her sitting by the waterline, legs curled up beneath her as she typed on her clamshell phone. Mel wove through the labyrinth of towels and sandcastles to reach her.
“Amara! Finally, I found you, this place is a maze.” Mel flicked her hair behind her as she sunk onto the sand beside her friend.
“Mel! Oh my gosh, I’ve got so much to tell you!” Amara grinned wildly, grabbing Mel’s hand. “Oh, you’re not gonna believe it! Mike and Kelly broke up.” She paused for theatrics, but as Mel opened her mouth to reply, she continued, “And she came out as lesbian!” Mel’s eyebrows shot up, a shocked smile breaking across her face. Amara laughed, “I know, right? Mike’s heartbroken, poor guy. Damien’s having a barbecue later to try and cheer him up. He’s inviting essentially the whole school, bar Kelly, obviously. Though I’m not sure she’d want to go anyway, you know how she is.”
Mel shook her head, dumbfounded. “That’s— that’s great! Kelly coming out, I mean. Poor Mike, though. He was so in love with her…” Amara nodded, releasing her grip on Mel’s arm. She leaned back on her elbows and turned to look at the sea, crystal and calm.
“The barbecue sounds fun. What time?” Mel took a sip of her cherry slushie, resting a hand on her sun-kissed knees. Her coral nails tapped torpidly as Amara twisted to look at her, bright hair swaying.
“Uh, pretty sure he said it starts at six… and ends, well, whenever it ends.” Amara nudged Mel playfully and they both smirked.
“So, whatcha gonna wear?” Amara asked, leaning back. “I’m gonna wear that sequin top, y’know, the one with the magenta? Oh, and I’ll wear that ruffled denim skirt with the mint on it, and my sandals. Ooh,” she added, pushing her palms into the sand, “I’ll do my hair in a fishtail, and I’ll pin some of those pearl clips in it. Vera is gonna scream!” Mel chuckled, picturing their high school bully’s face contorted in envy.
The conversation lulled, Mel brushing back her hair in her shell-shaped compact mirror as Amara fished through her bag for a can of Pepsi. She stopped before opening it, though, setting it back in her bag gently.
“Hey, Mel… Race ya to the water!” She scrambled to her feet and took off, kicking up sand behind her. Mel frantically struggled to her feet and sprinted after Amara, giggling, gaining on her. They hit the water and Mel shoved Amara, sending her tumbling into the shallow water.
“I’m gonna get you for that, Mel!” Amara dove at her legs, knocking her into the waves. They fought each other, laughing as the salt spray dusted their faces and their hair plastered to their cheeks.
Mel spat out seawater, looking down into the water at the bubbles obscuring her kicking legs. She saw a glimmer, sparking in the blazing sun.
“Amara, there’s something in the seabed. Something shiny.” She inhaled before plunging, arms extending towards the object lodged in the sand. She tugged it and it came free, clouding the water with sediment. Surfacing, she took a gulp of air and shook her drenched hair from her eyes.
“What is it?” Amara cocked her head as Mel held it in her cupped hands. It was a ring, tarnished and at least a century old. The silver band was crooked and degrading, but the pearl set in it glittered as bright as a flame. The simple piece of jewelry intrigued Mel, so she slipped it on her finger and struck a pose, pouting at Amara. Amara snickered.
“Alright, supermodel. C’mon, you can pair it with your party dress,” she joked. They exited the water and returned to their towels, littered with sand. Gathering their stuff and wringing out their hair, they made their way to Amara’s beach house, gossiping about the other latest happenings.

(mermaid story no way.. i know its cringe and unoriginal but it brings me joy so.. yea)

absolute nonsense . 100 words

the light curled around her, twirling in her hair, swooping along the curves of her cheekbones and coiling in the irises of her eyes. sparkling and fizzing as it snaked around her, twisting and wreathing. it flashed in her smile, illuminating her teeth so they shone like pearls. her eyes glimmered with the incandescence, and she closed her eyes. delicate, her sepia lashes glittered and shimmered.
her skin was soft with the glow beneath it, an ethereal aura that bathed her in a numbing awe. you couldn't help but drift from your thoughts, the world, as you observed her. it was as though the light blanketed every worry, warm and comforting.

conlang mess

phonology

gg /kʰ/
g /g/
q /q/
kk /ʦ/
d /ᴅ— danish D, made with tip of tongue on teeth/
t /ᴛ— same idea as d, but unvoiced?/
dd /ð/
tt /tʰ or in some dialects ʧ/
r /ɾ/
m /m/
n /n/
s /s/
h /x/
w /v/
p /p/
pp /f/
l /ɬ— or in some dialects ç /
ll /l/
cc /ʃ/
a /a/
o /o/
u /u/
i /i/
ö /œ/
ü /y/
e /e/
ë /ɛ/
ui or uü /u͡y/
ai /a͡ʏ/

other sound stuff

j before a vowel makes it long (if after a vowel, its /j/, even if before another vowel. both just be short then)

CV(C)

vowel harmony (front-back) applies in a word
back: a, o, u, ai
front: ö, ü, e, ë, ui/uü
neutral: i

grammar

agglutinative language. SVO, adjectives/adverbs/pre(post?)positions after noun/verb
ye

root words

qad = rock/stone
wokk = fire/heat
ttoq = water/liquid
kko = to see/watch/look
paj = to make/build

lep = ice/cold
ccit = night/shadow
llëw = wind/breath
ttë = to speak
jukk = to eat (jillggo = food)
pëg = to go/travel

-okk/-ëcc = plural (many)
-wa/-wë = possessive
-qu/-qü = locative
-qa/që = person
-wull/-wöll = thing
-o/-e = animal

-qucc/qücc = abstract idea
-da/-dë = good/positive
-ppu/-ppi = bad/negative

cook = food-make = jillggopaj /iːlkʰopaː/

writing random stuff cause why not hippee-yay-ki


she takes clinical bites
the epitome of precision, perfectly aimed
right at the brittle joints
the delicate frame she resides in.

she runs her fingers along the cold surface
empty-eyed, but sick rapture hides within her
at the effects she commands
that leaves me gasping for air.


(this bit isn't poetic cause ngl like i just gotta say it to get the feeling across, cause words are like. *)
she knows exactly how to pull me down because she's me, she's me, but the version i left behind, all the me's i used to be, she knows all my secrets and weaknesses and she's cruel as anything, she knows exactly what to say to bring me down and crush me and tease me and torture me and she loves it, she's so CRUEL and she LOVES IT, and it's hard to believe cause she's like the devil himself, she'll hit with me with every insult that could ever hurt, every worry that i could ever consider, every possible thing that would end with my loss. uh and i call her she because well. it helps me distance myself from her. cause sure she's me, but she's not me. she's everything but. it's so strange. i sound crazy rn but i'm just trying to cope any way i can lol.