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#i’m trying to work on my writing
addypillar · 1 month
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I’m made to be on the sidelines. I’m not a person who gets a fairytale story, I don’t even get written in the book. I’m the one who sits and watches the story unfold. It feels like i’m not even the main character in my own life, I am I side character everywhere, the ones without significance. I watch everyone laugh and joke, trying to be apart of something that I clearly don’t belong in. The odd one out. People steal my jokes, say them louder, drown me out. How many people would like me if I wasn’t drowned out by the waves of other people? I watch all kinds of beautiful relationships, in books, in real life, I wonder why I can’t have it for myself. Does god hate me? Is there something wrong with me? Why wasn’t I made to be someone? Questions without answers. They will get drowned out by other sounds, I will be drowned out by other sounds.
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minty364 · 2 months
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DPXDC Prompt #108 Part 2
The thought sounded ridiculous and yet Damian found himself unable to completely scoff at the idea. He himself had seen some strange things in his lifetime and it wouldn’t be fair to completely dismiss the idea outright. 
“I’m unsure what your point is but I guess I suppose they exist.” Damian eventually said.
Danny chuckled at this, “I guess you're not from Amity Park huh?” he joked.
Damian scoffed, “I’ve never even heard of that place but I gather that’s where I am at the moment?” He mentally filed the name to search later. 
“Yeah, born and raised. Anyways, we’re the most haunted city in America. Ghost’s are real, you’ll probably meet one at some point. They’re uh… kind of attracted to me? Kind of like… “ He trailed off for a moment, likely lost in thought trying to come up with an example. Damian was going to call him out for spacing, they were probably running out of time before one of his siblings or Pennyworth came to check on him. Luckily Danny continued, “Hey, what city am I in right now, maybe there’s a comparison I can use?” Danny asked.
“Tt, did you not even think to use GPS to find your location before calling me?” Damian scoffed, his supposed ‘soulmate’ was incompetent, “You're in Gotham.”
“Gotham? Well I guess you could compare them to Batman’s rogues then, however they tend to play a little rough. It’s kind of how ghost’s bond.” Danny’s explanation made it sound like he was the one roughhousing with these ghosts. He wasn’t quite sure where this was going but he let him continue, “so well… this next part’s kind of hard to explain especially without proof but well… I’m what the other ghost’s call a halfa. I’m half ghost half human.”
Damian opened his mouth to retort, the notion that you could be half dead was ridiculous really. But as soon as he opened his mouth a cold blue wisp wafted out of his mouth shocking him. An unfamiliar feeling washes over him and he looked down in terror as he started sinking into the bed.
“Explain your power’s now, I appear to be sinking into your bed.” Damian demanded. The feeling was odd, it was almost as if the bed didn’t exist. 
“Uh, right, Okay… so, it’s kind of emotion based? Take a few deep breaths and you’ll be able to ease yourself back out.” 
Damian did just as Danny instructed and took a few deep breaths. Soon he was able to solidify and sit back up on the bed. Suddenly, a knocking sound was heard through the phone. 
Shit, just like he thought, they took too long and one of his siblings came to check on him. He thought it was sweet that they cared, but he’d never voice this thought out loud to anyone. 
“Danny, I need you to listen very carefully. I need you to open the door and hand the phone over to them. Don’t say anything, understand?” 
“Uh Okay?” Damian could tell Danny was raising an eyebrow at this but he did as Damian told him anyway.
“Uh, Hello?” The voice on the phone said, Damian recognized it as Tim Drake-Waynes. 
“Drake, Please step into the room and listen to my instructions,” Damian waited a moment as he heard the door shut. “Alright, meet my soulmate Danny, apparently his parents study soulmates and they did something and now we’re in each other’s bodies.”
He heard Danny sigh, “It was only supposed to strengthen the soulmate pull. It’s not my fault they don’t know about my weird biology.” 
“Weird Biology?” Drake parroted, “do they not know you're a meta?”
There was a pause before Danny spoke, “No, I’m not a meta… but for the simplicity of things, and this conversation, sure, you can call me a meta.” There was a tiredness to his voice, as if he had this conversation with someone else before.
“The name’s Tim,” he told Danny, then Drake suddenly said in an excited voice, “hey, let’s let him in on the family secret and prank Bruce. Let’s tell everyone else about it and see how long it takes him to figure out it isn’t you… we’ll have to train Danny of course. If he really is your soulmate he’s going to find out eventually and it might be good to prepare him ahead of time” The idea sounded ridiculous to Damian but at the same time, he was recently having some doubts about his Father’s attention on him. Drake had a point, if Danny really was his soulmate, he’d find out eventually. 
__________________________
Danny wasn’t sure what was going on, after he handed the phone off to Tim, they talked about some family secret. Soon Tim hung up the phone and turned to Danny, “Damian say’s Sam and Tucker are there and they’ll call back when he’s back up to speed which means that we need to get up to speed ourselves,” he glared at Danny. Danny, who was still wearing Pajamas stood there as Tim approached him. Once they were a yard apart Tim spoke again, “Listen, the secret I’m about to tell you must not be told to anyone outside of this house, got it?” He fixed a hard glare at Danny.
Danny shrunk back for a moment before a thought occurred to him, “why don’t I tell you my secret as well? Damian is already learning by now and since you're his brother you’ll probably be able to help out.” Secrets for secrets, that way they would both be afforded some leverage in the situation. 
Tim seemed to think for a moment with a hand on his chin, he nodded for a moment before looking up at Danny, “Alright, but tell me yours first.” 
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foldingfittedsheets · 3 months
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I used to worry people wouldn’t like my silly nsfw stories if they followed me for cute long gay comics and now that two of my sex shop stories are blowing up I’m fretting all the new followers will get annoyed about the long gay comics.
Repeating my mantra: this is my blog and I post what I want to.
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atopvisenyashill · 5 months
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i was thinking more about characters Performing Gender, but not necessarily Transgressing Gender. I wound up focusing on Ned and Sansa bc I feel like I understand them the most but-
Sansa as a hostage is imo the most obvious (bc it’s so well done) moment of someone clearly Performing Gender but not being transgressive in that performance. Which isn’t to say it’s not a complicated performance; it’s a fine line Sansa walks between weaponizing her gender to protect herself without seeming too fake. She’s trying to placate the Lannisters by playing the perfect, dedicated, air headed betrothed because it’s the only defense she has - if she outwardly rebels, she will be punished in a likely violent and/or sexual way (which isn’t even conjecture - when she says “or maybe he’ll give me yours” Joffrey has her struck with an armored hand). She’s not quite successful in being convincing but that’s because it’s a rather extreme situation; despite no one believing her, she does make herself seem meek and stupid enough that no one suspects she’s plotting to escape with Dontos until she’s well away from KL. The fact that she even has Dontos to confide in is because of Sansa’s relationship with gender! When she saves him, she covers her rebellious slip by playing up Joffrey’s intelligence & his role as King; she reaches for “tools” of her gender AND of ~proper manhood~ to save a life and herself from another beating. Her retreats into the godswood and silence are very much Sansa attempting to recharge from these draining interactions, the same way a knight would need to stop and eat and rest after a fight. She is fighting, constantly, by forcing herself to stay within the narrow confines of a specific type of gender performance as a way of shielding herself from harm.
Ned yelling at Cat is another big one, and I’ve seen the scene referred to as Ned using his patriarchal power to scare Cat, which is a great description. It feels like a Performance because Ned is putting on this terrifying Lord Stark mask in an attempt to get Catelyn to stop asking about Jon (and Lyanna). This is not how he usually acts with those he loves! When Ned is with His People, he is welcoming of questions, curiosity, emotion, even transgressive thought (to a point! the idea that Ned is a feminist because he lets Arya learn to fight is Not accurate but you can’t deny he allows significantly more flexibility wrt gender expression than most of the fathers we meet in this series. the bar is in hell tho). Yet when Cat asks him about Jon’s mother, Ned scares her so well she stops asking & still remembers the moment bitterly over a decade later. And if that snippet we see through Bran’s eyes of Ned praying that Cat will forgive him does come after she asks (like it’s suspected), it’s clear not only that this is a performance he’s putting on & weaponizing against Cat, it’s one he does not like using as a weapon against someone he is close to. After using the power his gender gives him to cause harm, he retreats to the godswood and silence to pray and rest, much like Sansa. A spiritual cleanse, the way a soldier may pray after battle, to reset and reconnect Being A Proper Man to Being A Kind Man.
I think there’s something interesting in that two of the characters most widely defined by how well they adhere to Westerosi gender norms both dislike feeling like they had to weaponize their gender. They are exhausted by the performance, because it’s a performance. This isn’t Sansa getting excited over tourneys, or Ned teaching his sons to fight; it’s toxic masculinity, it’s structural misogyny. It’s something they’re good at, excel at, and connected to something they enjoy but when it’s paired with violence, whether done by Ned or done to Sansa, it crosses over in their minds from an innate part of themselves (The Gender) to a performance necessary due to survival (The Gender Role). And that after these performances, both retreat to nature & god as a way of resting and cleansing from the experience.
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crybaby-bkg · 5 months
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cw: this got long sorry 😔 but creepy/perv bakugou, recording, film major bkg x art major reader, masturbation, coercion, dubcon before it just becomes con, voyeurism/exhibitionism
as an art major, you typically did some works for a few students on campus; for their plays, as background pieces while they danced, a cover for their released songs. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to ask you to create something for them, and you enjoyed it more often than not. but, you weren’t usually the art itself.
Bakugou is a friend’s friend that you’ve seen a few times, ran into at the library or at coffee shops. he’s a film major, and always looks so unhappy about the whole thing, as if he didn’t choose it himself. you joke to Mina that you think he’ll graduate and become one of those directors that hate everything and yell at the actors constantly and later on get sued for being a dickhead. you never say it to him though—you’ve never spoken more than a couple words to the man.
it’s why it shocks you when he approaches you one day. it’s after one of your painting classes, and he stands outside the door with a frown and his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyebrows scrunched as if pissed at the mere sight of you. he asks you, in that low and gruff tone of his, if you could star in his final project for the semester. says it’s supposed to be a film made with this criteria and that, but, you’ve kind of checked out on the conversation after the first sentence.
“You mean, you want me to create something and that be the star of your film?” you ask him, feeling so intimidated at his stature. he always seems to loom, his hair shadowing the lights above, creates a cast over a portion of his face, makes his eyes look…unsettling. like they’re looking straight through your flesh, can find the marrow in your bones. he scoffs like you’ve offended him, rolling his eyes into his skull, mouth pulled tight.
“No.” his voice is firm, gaze concentrated only on you, like the halls are empty and you’re the focus of his lens. “I want you to star in it.”
his words confuse you—you’ve never presented yourself as an actor before, never alluded to wanting to be in the spotlight if not for what you create with your hands. but he shuffles on his feet, looks desperate even. there’s some hemming and hawing for a minute or so—why not choose Mina?—she’s busy—why choose me?—‘cause you’d be perfect for my short film—what’s it about?—you’ll find out once you get the script.
and even after you hesitantly agree and get the script—you still don’t understand what you’re doing. why you’re here, why you’re the only person, why it has to be a solo film, why there’s damn near zero lines in the entirety of the have-to-be forty five minute film.
the scenes are all so long, and maybe it’s because movies aren’t your forte or chosen major, but you just don’t get it. one scene; you’re staring at yourself in the mirror while Bakugou holds a small, black camera over your shoulder. he’s eerily quiet behind you, whispers out a faint fuckin’ go when you have to wash your face in the sink, makes you do it over because your movements are too jerky and unnatural.
the rest of the scenes go that way; you doing regular at home activities, being put under a lens, quietly barked at to do this and move that way and fix your hair and remember to frown.
“Isn’t there another way to film this?” you ask him on the fifth day of shooting in his spacious loft. there’s a bubble bath scene coming up, one you dont understand the importance of, but Bakugou tells you it’s the most necessary part of the entire thing.
“No,” he grunts out, looking at you from under his lashes as he sits on the lid of the toilet. “But I’ll make it soapy, so the camera won’t see much.” the camera? much? you weren’t worried so much about what the camera captured as you were the man behind it. he looks at you with such intensity, you feel naked already despite the robe you wear that’s suspiciously already your size.
he leaves the bathroom when you sink in the hot water, returns before you can say it’s okay, hears the water splashing and thinks that’s good enough. he kneels on the floor beside you, camera pointed directly in your face, makes your chest hot and your skin feel prickly. the scene passes on regularly enough; you run the water over your arms, tilt your head back as you sigh, whisper the few lines scripted, lean back and close your eyes, sigh again. it’s almost relaxing, makes you forget about the friend of a friend recording you naked right now. almost.
“Touch yourself.” Bakugou suddenly demands, hushed and quiet behind the camera. your eyes immediately shoot open, looking to him in question, how he’s eerily still in his spot hovering over you.
“Huh?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly, looking around the rounded lens in your face, trying to ignore the red blinking light. but Bakugou only frowns.
“It’s a masturbation scene. Touch yourself.” he repeats, voice louder, more demanding this time. your stomach twists at the thought of doing something so intimate in front of him. he’s a handsome guy, for sure, even made you consider asking him out after this, figured he was just serious about his work and awkward about certain things. but…something had been off about this entire thing since the start.
“But—but I don’t, I’m not,” you stutter, sitting up a little, the bubbles covering your chest starting to disperse with your movements. but Bakugou only sits a little higher on his knees, finally pulling the camera away from his face for the first time since he’s asked you to do this for him.
“You want me to fail?” he asks, booming voice eerily quiet in the silent bathroom, carmine eyes dull, shaded over with something terrible. “Then do it.” he tells you when you shake your head quickly.
you stare at him until he gets back into position again, camera back pointed at you. when he doesn’t say anything else, you swallow thickly, wondering if the art that will come out of this will be worth it. so you listen, sneak a hand under the water, start touching yourself in a way you never have in front of anyone.
is it bad to say that it’s exhilarating? being watched and recorded by someone who breathes so heavily every time your voice hiccups? being directed to touch your chest next when the suds start to disappear and your nipples start to peek through? is it bad that you want him to send you this portion of his film, only, just so you can watch yourself again and again? make a portrait of yourself with your fingers on your nipples and your knees raising from the water and your head thrown back from the intensity in oil pastels?
“That’s a wrap.” Bakugou announces when you finish, head spinning and still panting. you look over to him, how he closes the camera, the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’ll get you a towel.”
you wonder when’s the next time he’ll need you. or better yet—maybe he could be the star in your final drawing project? you had finished it already but, what was the harm in starting over with him as your muse? as naked as you are? camera not blocking his face so you can paint the similarities of his blushing cheeks and eyes when you direct him to look at you? to touch his chest? to play with himself just like that?
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thirdeyeblue · 8 months
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(I’m sorry, I’m just in love with them)
(Also got TentooRose perpetually on the brain)
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emry-stars-art · 7 months
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Whumptober day 10: branding/scarring/collar (full under the cut - I might say this one’s slightly more intense)
Did I mention this prompt list fits our Evemore Kingdom needs like almost too well? :,)
Find the royal au masterpost here
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(Hey does anyone have any comfort/fluff drawing ideas I can pick from TT)
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planebotpower · 6 days
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reblog if you’re a robot who sucks absolute ASS at programming
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leapdayowo · 19 days
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Redstone and Skulk OC time :3
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Thought I’d turn my persona into a rns oc and give them a helsmet :3 I basically looked at my play style in Minecraft and took a few things from my own life and combined them to create these two! Short version about them below and a little story of their origins under that:
short version:
-Leapday_art (short version Leapday, she/he/they, the player) is afraid of losing important things in their life. He is very cautious about doing anything that could result in him dying and loosing everything in his inventory (sleeps through the night everytime to avoid monsters, barely visits the nether, strip mines, etc) +the cats next to Leapday are two of my darling kitties who unfortunately passed away irl, their names are Toby (left) and Toes (right)
-Nightfall_collections (short version Nightfall, all pronouns, the helsmet) was created from Leapday’s extreme fear of losing valuables and her grief from having lost valuables too many times. Xyr driving goal is to collect and preserve everything that xe can and to make sure there is always at least one copy
-other things about Nightfall: she is a magma cube hybrid while Leapday is a ??? hybrid player (if you read the story below this may make more sense👀). Nightfall can split into smaller duplicates which allows them to be in more places at once and thus more productive in their goal. She uses her goop-like body to write reminders on her clothes, then re-absorbs the goop later
-I think Nightfall would find himself as an organizer between lots of different parties/people in Hels due to being so dedicated to his goal + only being dedicated to this goal (his alignment is probably chaotic good because he’s loyal to his own goals and not to other people or outside rules. He does not take bribes or backstab). Also, Nightfall does not need to have possession of everything, but xe is trying to keep tabs on where everything that exist is at(this makes xem the go-to person for trying to obtain something in particular)
-I think Nightfall would become a sponsor (if that’s the right word?) for the Order of Remembrance because she greatly admires the work they do to preserve Hels’ history. She would also love Zedaph’s hall of all and definitely tries to work with private collectors to protect (and document/track) what they have (and she will keep what she knows a secret if it means protecting valuable things)
-Nightfall does not care about thieves unless they steal one of a kind things
-the doodles below were my earlier concepts, so Nightfall has green eyes before I realized it’s much more fitting for xem to have orange eyes
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okay, okay, story time (because I realized the ‘short’ version was getting very extensive):
Maybe it had started in the very first world she spawned in. A brilliant blue sky that stretched over jagged, looming cliffs with forests scattered underneath. Trickling waterfalls and bubbling lava pits here and there. The natural beauty of the world left Leapday in awe and eager to explore what other wonders lay beyond the horizon.
It must have started with the first tree she broke, a squat little oak, one of hundreds in the forest. When the leaves of that little oak had all fallen, saplings littered the grassy floor. She should’ve been excited, feel triumphant even by taking down the tree, after all it’s how the journey had to start. Except, all that Leapday could see was the awkward gap in the canopy from the absence of the little oak. It felt like an itch unscratched, nagging and uncomfortable. Well that wouldn’t do.
They scooped up all the saplings littering the floor and planted one in the same dirt plot the little oak was uprooted from. Then they planted a few more just for good measure. The unease lingered, but planting the saplings felt good. It felt right. Now their adventure could truly begin!
——
In this world, Leapday’s only companions were the pigs and sheep that he passed on his journey, though he would argue, if there were someone to argue with, that the world itself brought him company enough. That the days and nights passing was a conversation between the universe and Leapday, and thus a consistent companion. And what gifts did the universe provide for him to find! Rushing rivers that fed into powerful oceans, plenty of trees to sleep in and collect, and mountains to climb with the best views of the sunset. Never a dull moment for him as there was always something new to experience and see.
However, despite all its gifts, the universe was slow to explain the finer mechanics of the world, such as health to Leapday. A week of traversing through thick forests and steep cliffs left them battered and bruised. They learned how to gauge the distance of a drop and how to place blocks to minimize the pain in their ankles from falls. A similar pain gnawed from the inside of their stomach, which they discovered was briefly satiated by devouring the apples that fell from the trees.
During one climb up a particularly harrowing cliff, Leapday learned about the unforgiving weight of sand by placing it under her feet in order to reach the next ledge. The block had crumbled in a near instant, sending her plummeting towards the ground. Instead of hitting the hard rocks below, she splashed into a stream from a nearby waterfall. When she had dragged herself onto land and her heart had steadied to a more familiar pace, she let out a fit of bewildered laughter that overwhelmed the panic from moments ago. She knew falls much shorter than this one could take days to recover from, so what kind of pain would she be in if she hadn’t gotten lucky and fallen in the stream? Something cold ran through her and sank to the pit of her stomach. Dread of what could have been, what could still be if she wasn’t more careful. She resolved to never find out what would happen. How unfortunate that her next fall would be into a pit of lava, the very one she had been camping at throughout the nights.
He was being careful, more so than he had been for the first week in this world anyways. That didn’t seem to matter because he had still slipped when placing the block before him and fallen. It was his first respawn, and it introduced him to a few new things like a punch to the face. The first revelation was the agony of burning to death, and death itself. He curled into himself, crying at the phantom feeling of the lava eating at his flesh. The intense heat and how the lava had trapped him in place and burned. It was a twisted version of the warmth of the sun, which was shining down on him and in comparison felt as cool as the air in caves. The second realization came slowly as the memory of fire ebbed. Their knuckles no longer popped and their joints no longer ached. The tightness in their muscles had vanished, leaving softer tissue on the bone and the emptiness in their stomach no longer hurt. They felt new and full of energy, ready to begin their journey again. How strange they had forgotten what this felt like. White scars from their oldest injuries and freckles from sun touched skin still littered their body. They had died, but now were in perfect health again. Leapday took in her surroundings, her face lighting up with delight at the sight of a familiar oak tree. It had grown into quite the study tree since the start of her adventure. Soon after her reunion, Leapday discovered her now empty inventory when she reached for blocks to place in order to climb the canopy. The absence of stacks of logs, dirt, and sand had her racing towards the lava pit before her mind could catch up. Panic pushed her feet to run faster and dodge every obstacle. She ignored nicks from branches in her way and the sting of sharp rocks on her bare feet. The timer was ticking down. Her items would be gone- she just had to- if she wasn’t fast enough-
She burst through the tree line and was greeted by the familiar heavy heat of the lava pit. The sight of it made her recoil out of fear of falling back in even from many blocks away. On shaky legs, she circled the perimeter and searched for her items. The timer was still ticking, but they were nowhere to be seen! She crept as close as she dared to the lava and swept her eyes across the surface of the pool. Then she darted into the surrounding trees looking high and low.
Nothing.
No logs. No saplings or dirt or anything!
This was their third lesson. You lose items after death, and lava destroys those items.
Don’t die, especially not in lava, and don’t lose your items.
Now they had to start over, and this time not dying proved to be harder than expected. More falls and similar accidents happened. Zombies began appearing, persistent in their pursuit of Leapday’s flesh. Then skeletons, creepers, and spiders appeared and introduced many more ways one could die. The pain from the deaths hurt, but they became mundane as weeks turned to months. Loosing items became more painful and frightening when Leapday discovered crafting. More time and resources were needed to start over after dying with crafted items, so they took to the world underground. They followed their instinct to craft pickaxes and torches, to chip away at the stone in search of more sturdy materials. They crafted their first stone pickaxe and found it to be superior to the wooden one.
Maybe it truly started with that wooden pickaxe. When she crafted the stone tools, the wooden pickaxe sat in her hotbar, still good for half a day’s work but now obsolete. It had served her well to progress her journey, a necessary step, but it felt wrong to simply set it aside. It felt like the gap in the canopy all over again, but she very well couldn’t plant the pickaxe in the ground and solve her unease. Not sure what else to do, she attached it to her hip and went on with her day. She wouldn’t destroy it or toss it, she would simply carry it with her until she found what she needed to do with it next. It became her new companion (it was her first crafted tool. It was the first and therefore the only one that would ever exist).
Now equipped with wood and stone blocks, Leapday built their base over their mine. The wooden pickaxe found its place over the doorway leading outside, marking the build as their home. It felt right, so they continued their expansions. Farms were planted along a nearby river and fences placed to corral cows and sheep. Torches were the one item they were generous with. They were thrown across their property liberally since their light would deter creepers spawning too close for comfort.
During a thunderstorm that had picked up abruptly one morning, Leapday poked around at their communicator. It was a lightweight device that had been attached to their forearm since first spawning into the world and never disappeared after dying. After lots of fiddling with the different menus and buttons on the screen, they came across YouCraft. It was an archive of videos made by other players scattered across the universe, documenting their own worlds and progress! With the storm still crashing down around Leapday’s base, they curled up in bed and began watching the first video that caught their eye. It turned out that he had lots more to learn about the universe! After waiting out the storm, and then the night, by watching these videos, he learned about other biomes and blocks still left to discover as well as potions, enchanting, and other dimensions! A dragon was where this journey led for most players, though some took their time getting to it. Above all, he realized he needed diamonds. Diamonds were what every player sought due to their strength, but they were rare and dangerous to collect being so deep underground. They were needed to further Leapday’s journey however, so collecting them became his top goal. Quickly he learned how impossible achieving this goal would be. Well, it seemed impossible after spending days underground chipping at the cold stone and coming up empty. Strange echoes rang through the tunnels and more than a few times paranoia of something (or someone. He had heard the legends of Herobrine) sneaking up on him was enough to make him hole up for hours. Grey, grey stone that went on for miles. Grey cobblestone trailed behind him when his inventory filled. Leapday found other minerals, but the sparkling teal of diamonds still lay buried elsewhere. He mined for so long he began to doubt that the rare mineral even generated in this world. That only grey existed. That was until he broke away the next layer of stone before him and found himself staring uncomprehending at the bits of teal poking through stone. Uncontainable joy broke through his shock like sunlight through parting storm clouds. They were real! Diamonds were real and right in front of him! Invigorated with new energy, Leapday got to work extracting the diamonds just as they had seen others do. The amount paled in comparison to the stacks other players had, but in that moment he didn’t care. It was enough to have found them and confirm they even existed in this world. That weeks of sore arms digging at indifferent stone and unsteady gravel caches falling finally amounted to their new prized possession.
By the time he arrived back at his base, the novelty of finding diamonds began to wear off. He had to admit it was a measly amount. Just barely enough for a diamond pickaxe. What good would a stronger pickaxe be with no enchantments or replacements for when it broke? It had taken so long to find just a few diamonds what were the chances of finding more? No, they wouldn’t craft anything with the rare mineral until they had enough for spares and back ups. So back to the mines they went, and excruciatingly slow they found more, and continued to reason that crafting them was a poor decision. What if an accident happened and they couldn’t get back to their stuff? If they were swallowed by a pit of lava? So much time would be spent only to be wasted. Almost like their thoughts and fears had manifested it, a freak lava incident happened not long after. Leapday had been feeling good that day, so good because their most recent mining trip had yielded 13 diamonds and another cluster just across a lava lake. As they bridged across the lake, plans of finally crafting their collection of diamonds began to form making them giddy. It was the type of giddy that made any obstacle feel like child’s play and beyond consequence. That they finally could start progressing on their journey once more. It was enough to distract Leapday from the crunch of gravel under their feet and for their pickaxe to swing off its mark into the unsteady floor. The ground gave way and sent her tumbling into the lava.
She woke up screaming in her bed. Screaming from agony of ghostly flames that ate flesh, and then from loss and frustration. It wasn’t fair! Her luck had just turned up for the best and now all of it was gone! Every plan to use the diamonds tossed out the window and into a burning pit of despair. How stupid of her to not notice the gravel! All that time for nothing! She should have called it a day and come up 13 diamonds richer with plenty of levels for enchanting. All her gear and tools and items from mineshafts would still be intact, but no. Her head was too far in the clouds and now it was gone. She hadn’t even had the foresight to mark the cave to return to, so sure of her victory. There would be no hope navigating the twisting and sprawling tunnels below, and even if she tried to go back, the sight of lava would probably be enough to make her hurl. Fat tears began dripping down her face as she cursed and wallowed. They blurred his vision, so with a few steadying breaths and a final gross sniffle, he wiped at his eyes. Then he went to swing his legs over the bed to pick up the pieces of his day and froze. On his hand, both hands actually, were thick black smudges of… of something. What was that? He reached up to his face and traced the wet tear tracks with a clean finger. It too came away covered in the strange goop. An incredulous laugh burst from him, which evolved into hysterical crying. More tears fell from his eyes and he let them. The tangled web of grief in his chest unraveling as he did so, and he felt the last of his energy drain away until-
Sunlight trickled through the curtains and roused Leapday from their sleep. Birds were chirping and the familiar sounds of the animals grazing and leaves rustling cradled their mind while the events of the previous day trickled back to them. They felt heavy and gross. Their eyes crusty and mouth dry as a desert were a sure sign of their emotional distress. Disappointment felt like stones being dropped on them when they pulled up their empty inventory. It really was all gone. They let their head flop back onto their pillow and took a steadying breath, trying to recount the reasons they should get out of bed. Maybe they would stick to the joys of the world above ground for a month or two. Take up weaving or painting. They had plenty of resources to finally build a barn and an expansion to the house. Maybe they would go with a grassy roof.
Yeah. That could be alright. With one final sigh, Leapday pushed themself up off their bed and dragged themself over to their cauldron to clean up. They could see from their reflection that only a few faint smudges remained on their face, which they gently wiped away. Crying black goop was probably not normal now that their mind was more stable to think it over. Or maybe it was normal? It had never happened before, but the players on YouCraft all had their own quirks that Lepaday lacked, so maybe it was normal for them?
It turned out the inky tears were a new normal. From that incident onward, whenever they experienced a great sense of loss the strange tears formed and sank into the ground. They appeared when Leapday lost their first wolf companion and when they accidentally deleted a creative world full of builds of an ambitious project.
Meanwhile…
in another world…
In Hels, black goop bubbled to the surface of a sea of lava. From a distance, the surface seemed its usual hungry self, shifting and popping as it patiently waited for Hels and its inhabitants to finally crumble in. The goop was not consumed by its hunger however. It stretched towards the netherrack shore like a snake in water. Once it had gathered all of itself onto more solid ground, it sat and waited for more of itself to arrive, bouncing and bubbling over the terrain in the meantime. They could only wait so long however, after all, there was much to collect and preserve and too little time to do so.
And it’s finished! Whew, I don’t typically write, so this was a lot to work on amidst all my finals projects (totally worth it tho! It was great practice). I wasn’t planning on writing so much about leapday, but then I realized the interesting potential of writing about players when they’re new to the world. If they are akin to gods, they still enter the world with a lot to learn. The goop at the end is Nightfall, who then went on to travel Hels and collect as many blocks and items as xe could before xe came across the city Evil X established. At first they were incredibly overwhelmed by the amount of stuff to preserve in the city and mostly stuck to collecting free scraps and garbage. It probably did something to gain the attention of a member of the Order of Remembrance, who taught Nightfall about their goals and a few things about how society/Hels worked. From there, Nightfall set off to establish a massive collection and documentation of anything and everything, working with people in the process but also quite an eccentric personality that can be quite a hermit when buried in paperwork (not many people are willing to do paperwork as diligently as Nightfall)
Also, YouCraft is YouTube in the Minecraft world :P I felt I needed to separate it from our version of mcyt because in this universe the characters are real and making videos about their lives rather than people playing a video game (at least that’s how I’m headcanoning it)
thank you @silverskye13 for providing some more lore about Hels and the Order of Remembrance (as well as Redstone and Skulk as a whole <3) as well as inspiring me to keep trying to improve my writing and thank you to @/yayforocs for inspiring me to finally make my own rns OCs and this post :3
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Just some kids
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sovereignjojoz · 2 months
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Distraction
Pairing: smoke/Tomas x reader, I don’t even know if I can tag this Bi-Han x reader because it’s not, but just know Bi-Han has complex ambiguous feelings towards the reader that even I don’t know?????
Summary: The grandmaster disapproves of smokes lover for some reason unbeknownst to them, so he tells them to end it. Two endings.
Warnings: angst but there’s also a separate comforting ending, one mention that reader wears a dress, self-loathing reader in the angst part.
Notes - this was going to be more angsty originally I just couldn’t picture a meaner scenario, because smoke is too nice so I just lessened the angst to something bittersweet (cry) (I want to write something gut wrenching) anyways might write something for syzoth/Bi-han next idk. Requests are always open!!
Bi-Han, the ever stoic Sub-Zero, found himself in an unexpected dilemma, and it was all Tomas’ fault.
Or more specifically your fault.
Recently, Tomas had gotten a lover. Although some may think otherwise the grandmaster was not adverse to such things so long as they didn’t become a distraction.
You were a distraction.
You couldn't be more different from the warriors of their clan. You were like a breath of warmth in the icy corridors of the Lin Kuei compound, bubbly, kind-hearted, and devoid of combat prowess, you stood out like a flower in a field of snow.
While smoke was smitten with your gentle nature and somewhat naivety, Bi-Han couldn't shake off his disapproval.
Your unfiltered presence felt like a disruption to the disciplined order of their lives, a stark contrast to the solemn silence that usually enveloped the Lin Kuei.
Even now he could hear Tomas trying to hush up the sound of muffled laughter and giggles from the other side of the compound, was a place of komat and violence really a place for laughter to make home?
The grandmaster often tried to keep his distance as a result hoping that the incompatibility of you in their lifestyle would become increasingly clear, yet it had been months and it seemed as though you had no intention to leave Tomas’ side.
He didn’t understand what Tomas saw in you, of course your exterior beauty was clear to all (although Tomas wasn’t one to judge on appearance alone) but you were a non fighter. Bi-Han likened your presence to a fragile glass sculpture delicately balanced on the edge of a precipice, it was as though you needed a box to protect you from the harshness of the compound as it seemed as though a mere wispre could shatter your delicacy - and they were never one for whispering.
Perhaps Tomas could be considered the box you sought out, a sanctuary where you could retreat from the harshness of the world and cocoon yourself in layers of protection, so not to mar your fragile heart.
Yet was Tomas considered capable? Many occasions he’d returned home bloodied and bruised, wracking your heart with grief where you should have been finding solace. Sniffles and sobs lined the walls of the corridors while smoke tried his best to be comforting. He knew how this song and dance played out, a few forlorn touches whilst being patched up then the distress would cease (and in its place came the sound of affection).
Such a cycle will be futile for the one who is considered soft hearted, would it not? With enough pressure even resilience can shatter.
He supposed that was the good thing with his younger brother, he never put pressure on you which is why you were always able to be somewhat resilient and converse freely with him.
He was a firsthand witness to this many times and coincidentally one of those many times he overheard you two freely conversing was currently taking place.
“Tomas please don’t,” you begged loudly, and pouted willing him to look you in the eye.
When it came to many things Tomas was strong willed, but you were his one exception, you’d leave him inexplicably weak “pretty, you know I have to, water is quite literally gushing out of the chamber you stay in.” He countered as he pulled you along behind him.
You made a dismissive gesture with your hand, “But you know that is no issue to me, in fact it will just be like sleeping on a water bed.”
Tomas chuckled heartily, “you’re funny you know baby. Okay then it’s not an issue with you but it is an issue with me, can’t have you getting sick.”
You tried to hold him in place by hugging him, “my immune systems is top notch you know!” But he just threw you over his shoulder with ease and continued walking. “Besides can’t I just sleep with you?”
He felt your smaller fists pound on his back urging him to let you down, it was akin to a marshmallow pounding on wood. “You know I would love that but the grandmaster forbid us from sharing a room because of last time.”
You rested your face on his head sighing, “it was your fault, you were the one who squealed.”
He pinched your hip lightly, although it was enough to make you involuntarily yelp. “Let’s not forget who bit me.”
“Hey you knowingly signed up for that when we started dating.”
He flashed you a smile as he threw you down on the couch and brought out an imaginary key to lock you up with.
You gasped betrayed, “I know I know, ‘m sorry! I didn’t want to have to resort to this but your presence is too captivating, just give me three minutes my angel then I’m all yours.”
You relented beckoning him to go on so you could brood whilst you waited for him, the grand master watched this whole debacle go down and decided to make his presence known.
His presence startled you leading you to jump up upon his entrance, “good evening grandmaster.” You palmed at your dress in a state of nervousness.
The tall male eyed you up and down, “where is Tomas.”
“Smokey-” a disapproving frown crept onto his face, you cleared your throat, uncomfortable, “Tomas just left.”
He clicked his tongue, annoyed. “Yes that is evident, to where.”
You bit your bottom lip “he, um, went to the bedroom to fix a broken tap.”
His eyes flickered to you, a harsh glare almost making you want to flinch, “everything in the lin kuei compound is made to perfection, how did it break.”
You took a couple steps back as his proximity slightly intimidated you, “we shared a bath together a-and I must have splashed around to much, I’m really sorry grandmaster please don’t blame smok-”
“Enough.” His glare was enough to silence your nervous rambling. “Sit. I’m going to speak to Tomas, do not disturb us.”
It seemed as though you wanted to say something but you held yourself back deciding to sit down like he instructed you (good choice).
When Tomas heard footsteps approaching he initially thought nothing of it, thinking you had tired of being by your lonesome and wanted his attention again.
Then he heard the heaviness to the footsteps, those weren’t your delicate footsteps.
He used his vestment to wipe the sweat off his brow before answering the door.
“Grandmaster.” Tomas greeted.
Bi-Jan forced his own entry into the room, locking the door behind them, tension hanging thick in the air.
Smoke tried to read his expression his but it was unreadable, although it seemed like a form of inevitable confrontation was about to occur based on the face he was currently making.
“Is there anything-?”
“You are becoming reckless Tomas.”
Smoke furrowed his brows in confusion, he had no idea what the grandmaster was referring to. “What?”
“You broke a tap.”
Tomas rubbed his nape sheepishly, “technically you could say that, but I’ve already fixed it.”
Bi-han stepped closer to smoke, “It is beyond unacceptable.”
“It was a mistake.”
“Do we tolerate mistakes?”
Smoke had a lingering suspicion this issue ran deeper than the tap, of course Bi-Han would be displeased about his broken tap however he seemed to snappy for the issue to just be about the tap.
“We don’t but [name] didn’t mean to-?”
“Answer.”
“No?”
“Yet irregardless of that you did not show up to morning training.” A look of recognition flashed across smokes face, “as your grandmaster that will not be tolerated. You must end your relationship with [name].”
A look of disbelief overcame Tomas’ face. “What? Where is this coming from, why would I do that?” He asked, hurt seeped in his voice.
Bi-Han pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled, “[name] is a distraction and a liability, if [name] were here now your focus would slip and you would struggle to focus on anything else evidently shown by the way you missed morning training.”
“That was my own decision.” Tomas answered defending you from Bi-Hans criticism, “[name] only asked if I would join, I was the one who said yes full well knowing about the training. If anyone is to blame it’s me.”
“It doesn’t matter Tomas. The fact you even said yes proves how far gone you are. [name] is not a warrior nor a medic but a weakness, an attachment to you that makes you vulnerable and puts us all at risk.”
Tomas’ jaw clenched in frustration, “Grandmaster please excuse me but you have no right to judge. You do not understand what you are talking about, [name] is not my weakness.”
“You are being selfish in your pursuits Tomas. Perhaps if she were a warrior there would be room negotiate but someone so tenuous is pitiful.”
“Then forgive me for being selfish grandmaster but I will not relent.” Tomas turned sharply on his heel to exit the room.
Angsty ending
“You will. If you dare to disobey me then take your stuff with you because you will no longer reside here.”
Tomas stopped in his tracks, his hand shakily hovering over the door knob.
He knew he had no more room to argue but he wanted to, more so than ever since it was a battle between his head and his heart.
Tomas threw his head back, exhaling angrily through his nostrils, then he pulled opened the door brashly and stormed out.
He rubbed his hand over his eyes, cursing under his breath.
“Smokey?” He saw your head appear into his view from around the corner, “is everything alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?” You wrapped your arms tightly around his middle hoping to comfort him, “you seem tense?”
Smoke said nothing and just pulled you close with a desperate longing that was almost too tight. There's a sense of safety in the closeness as your breaths synchronise with his. You frowned pitifully and pulled his head down to your shoulder, gently caressing his hair.
“It’s okay.” You kissed his cheek.
“It’s not.”
“You can tell me what’s the matter?”
He lifted his head up trying to maintain his composed mask, “Bi-Han wants us to break up.”
Your shock lead your grip to loosen on him however he reacted quickly putting it back where it once was.
“Oh.”
He ran a hand through his ashen hair, “don’t worry, we’re not breaking up I’ll just deal with the consequences.” He spoke attempting to give you a reassuring smile but it came out more wry.
It was quite hard to process your current emotions but you were trying your best, “what are the consequences?”
“I’m out.”
Shock painted your face, “you can’t do that this is your whole life, you love it here.”
He brought your hand to his face, “I also love you.”
“I know.” You sniffled and tried your best to wipe the unruly tears that slipped out of the corner of your eyes.
You sighed. “He hates me, right? I must have done something again and now he’s had enough of me, it’s all my fault, I-I’m so stupid-!” You hit your head twice before smoke caught your hands and held them together tightly.
“stop it.”
Despite your hands being bound, you got past him and manage to wrap your hands around his blade, “what if I just cut my hair or if I talk less, I’ll change whatever he wants, I’ll study everything and become more proper…I’ll do anything to make him like me more for you-” smoke tuned out the rest of what was being discussed as he felt you trying to pull the blade towards your hair, he knew irrationality was getting to you. You tried your best to overpower him yet you knew it wouldn’t be possible, he was a warrior you were nothing.
The blade flicked out of your hand and made a small gash on your cheek, but the wound stung more from your saline tears than the actual sharpness of the blade.
His thumb wiped the blood and tears off of your soft skin, “it’s okay, you’ll be alright and I don’t care what he think I like you how you are, I never want you to change.”
“Well that would be good if the grandmaster didn’t hate current me that you love. Why does he hate me, he probably has a good reason anyway…All I want is to be with you…nothing else. but I’m not going to hold you back regardless.”
Smoke purses his lips. He had no answer for you, he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what the grandmasters peculiarity with you was or where this sudden snap came from, he didn’t want to doubt his grandmaster but he felt like there was more to this so called ‘dislike’ if he could even call it that.
His head was a mess.
“There is no good reason.” He didn’t answer your question, instead he just pulled you close into his embrace.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault Tomas.”
“Yeah but still, it’s not fair. You shouldn’t doubt yourself like this thinking it’s your fault and our relationship shouldn’t be ending. Period. I should be able to do something but…If only things could have been different.” Or the grandmaster could have understood instead of being an arrogant ‘know-it-all’, “then…” the words died out on his tongue.
Your lips sadly turned upwards as you stroked his cheek, “but they’re not so there’s no time for lamenting, so I guess this is goodbye Smokey.”
As you took your hand away from his cheek he immediately felt the loss of warmth, replaced with a coolness he didn’t think he’d ever be forced to get used to.
But at least his heart was ignited one last time seeing you smile, even if it was in sadness and not long lasting, it would be a while before he let that smoke fizzle out.
“Goodbye sweetheart.”
Comforting ending
Before you were even aware of what was happening to you, a tug of your hand was pulling you forward leaving you stumbling to catch up with your feet.
“Tomas? Where are we going?”
He continued walking at a brisk pace, not stopping till you were outside the compound, “just for a walk, need to let some steam off.”
“You need to cool off some smoke?” You joked laughing at your pun.
That managed to crack a small smile from him, “and Bi-Han wants this to end,” he muttered under his breath.
You tilted your head at him in a curious manner, “what?”
He stopped beneath a tree, decorated with soft glistening snow on top of the wooden branches. He tuned towards you and squished your cheeks together before giving you a soft kiss. “Don’t worry.”
“Okay!”
You couldn’t figure out what it was but he was heavily concentrated on something in the distance right now, his face was clouded by a far a way look till he abruptly turned to face you. “Hey, do you want to get married?”
You gasped surprised, “really? You’d marry me!”
Smoke grinned enthusiastically, “would I? Of course I would!”
You jumped on him to excited to contain yourself making him stumble backwards before he steadied himself and you, “okay! It would probably only take me like two days to find a dress and we could just go down and sign the documents unless you wanted to have a big official thing but I’m not sure how that would-”
He pinched your lips while laughing to silence your rambling, “how about now?”
“But we have nothing I-!”
He cut you off once more, “we don’t need anything, just us, it will make it special! sure it will be informal but only us two will get it!”
“Here look,” he grabbed your smaller hands in his larger coarse hands, “[name], may I be forever yours.”
“Yes, you may Tomas.”
He grinned and pulled his face towards you, giving you a tender and lasting smooch. “Now we’re married!”
“You hit him lightly on his shoulder, “you were meant to wait for me to repeat it!”
He pulled you down to the floor, making you sit on his lap, “M sorry, ‘m sorry! I couldn’t wait.”
You sighed content, laying your head on top of his muscular shoulder, “it’s okay, you have forever to make it up to me.”
His lips curled upwards as he rested his head on top of yours.
Yeah, forever sounds nice.
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aphroditestummyrolls · 3 months
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If you’re looking to avoid the wild oscillation of mischaracterising wylan van eck (the pendulum between uwu baby and mini kaz), it helps to just… stop blanket-labelling behaviour. Unlearn the idea of something being blank-“coded”— these things are fun and funny when they’re memes, but if you’re writing the character (or ANY character), stop approaching things like a handful of moments with limited context can determine what “type” of person he is.
Like… just let him be a person. Keep his backstory and his motivations throughout your story in mind as you take him from point a to point b to point c, and explore his thoughts and his reactions.
I don’t know, maybe that sounds tedious, but it’s one of my favourite parts of character work, and it’s a pretty huge part of writing. I honestly don’t understand how you can like writing and not want to do that, but I digress. If you’re looking to understand a character more completely, though, it helps to take the TikTok Typology of Characters out of your brain, and see where wylan takes you when you stop judging his every move so hard.
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graceofagodswrath · 2 years
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Humans Are Feral: Part 2
Wow, I did not expect that last post to be received so well, and so fast. Thanks so much to all those who left awesome comments, reblogs and notes. And since it was received so well, I decided to go ahead and write the part two I’ve been thinking about since part one.
So, humans can vicious and absolutely feral at times. Our society often criticizes such behavior, referring to it as “acting like an animal.” And don’t get me started on how humans love to make themselves seem important by separating ourselves from the rest of the animal kingdom whether from religious belief or simple egotism. But our animal instincts are still a part of us, even though they have been suppressed through hundreds of years of societal evolution. The biggest example of these primal instincts is the fight or flight response. This is one we commonly experience in day to day situations, however small they may seem. From situations like: being in a crowded room and feeling the urge to run because of overwhelming social anxiety. Or being at the in-laws and they make a rude comment, and you just want to snap back or run out of the house. But you suppress those feelings in order to appear “civilized/normal.” Just some tidbits on human psychology I think about a lot.
But that thing that I mostly think about is how we react in extremely stressful and dangerous situations. One’s in which we perceive are life-threatening. I have been put in a situation where I was nearly fighting for my life, and I remember the wildness I felt. There were no verbal thoughts in my head, nothing I remember being normal. All I could feel was this kind of fear-rage in which I was scared as hell, but also angry because I was scared. I remember the adrenaline and the realization that if I was going to die, I was going to fight with everything I had. Which, looking back, seems kind of strange. Many animals often give up if they realize they’re going to die. But humans don’t. Any kind of hope, any kind of need to fight and survive is all we need to keep going. We rarely just give up.
Imagine:
A ship of imperial soldiers of the Fiuldarian Empire had sighted the Star Chaser. All crew had done their best to push the ship to her point, trying to outrun the imperial flagship. But it was no use. Within a few ticks they had been flown down and anchored. But the soldiers never boarded, which scared Captain Din:ai. She stood in the control room before her holoscreens, staring with fear-blown eyes. The imperial ship never sent a communications, nor did it fire any weapons. She had no idea what was going to happen.
Until something did happen.
From the comm, Equaloi’s high-pitched screams shattered the tense silence. The feathered Unaga’o cried out something in their native tongue before a wet gargle cut his voice. His comm cut off, but not before a strange clicking and growl were heard. All in the room stood still, antenna, fur, and scaly plates twitching with anticipation. All eyes stared up at the Captain, awaiting her orders. Or reassurance. Something. But the tall Diralo stood as still as her crew, three-fingered hands balled tightly.
The comm went off again, making several in the room jump. This time heavy breathing sounded. “I just found Equaloi and Fir’nad.” Alex Risach, the only human among Din:ai’s crew. They sounded unnervingly calm, but there was something off about their voice. “They’re not…alive. And they’re all over the place.” Din’ai drew in a sharp breath, her breathing cavities in her chest whistling lowly. Two dead. But not from soldiers.
Din:ai pressed the receiver. “What do you mean by ‘all over the place’?”
“I mean,” Alex said. “That they are in pieces. Torn apart.” Alex’s next sentence made Din:ai’s blood grow cold. “Imperial soldiers did not do this.” Din:ai remained silent, thinking desperately about what to do. Her long kallocks of experience did not prepare her for this situation. Because as much as she wished to deny it, the last few minutes made it clear what was going on. Something was aboard the Star Chaser. And it was extremely dangerous.
“Risach, listen to me. You must make your way to the control room. Any crew you find must follow these same instructions. Whatever is aboard is extremely dangerous, and must not be approached until we know what it is. Do you copy?” There was silence on the other side. Din:ai grew tenser with every quiet second. “Risach, do you copy?”
A click of the comm. And an alien screeching. Angry words could be heard in a human language, one Din:ai did not recognize as a common tongue. Then a feral scream, one that had the scales along Din:ai’s back arching in terror. Every crew member listened in rapt attention, all trying to imagine what was going on behind the sounds.
Then Alex’s voice screaming above the commotion.
“GET SHIT ON MOTHERFUCKER!” A howling squeal followed. A click as the comm turned off. Another click as it turned back on. “On my way to the control room. I recommend all weapons off safety and for everyone to take cover. This thing is mean and ugly as sin.” Their heavy breathing didn’t hide the deep gruffness in their voice. Din:ai pushed away the observation. She could worry about deciphering human language tones later.
She reached under her command center, grabbing the firearm she had hidden earlier. All other crew in the room followed suit. Din:ai pulled up a hole map of the ship, centering in on Alex’s orange-dotted life signal. And the life signal following them. The label above the beeping red dot read ‘unknown’. Both signals were closing in on the command room’s eastern doorway. The giant Diralo captain signaled to all crew present to aim their weapons at the door.
“Anything non-human coming through that door gets shot, understood?” Nods and chirps of agreement. The room became quiet once more, the atmosphere thick with fear-scent. Then sounds could be heard beyond the door. A strange clicking-screeching drowned out everything. Din:ai jerked when banging sounded on the other side of the door. Alex’s voice muffled through the walls.
“OPEN IT!” Din:ai shouted. Yugi, a derumo juvenile who was closest to the door, hit the controls beside it. The door slide upward, exposing the dim hallway and the blood-covered human behind it. Alex sprinted through, turning to aim their weapon at the open doorway.
Then the creature appeared. All recoiled at the sight. Alex spoke true. It was immensely ugly. It resembled a Terran arachnid, long spindly legs supporting a large, hulking body that stood just above Alex’s height. But that is where similarities ended. It was covered in black chitinous armor, spiked and sharp. A pair of spindly arms with elongated claws sat beneath its head. It’s head swayed low, its mouth shaped like a five pointed star shape, teeth covering every flesh surface. Beady black eyes stared from its skull, reflecting the light beaming down. It screeched and charged toward Alex. The crew opened fire.
The gunfire seemed to stop it for a moment before it grew confident again. Because the barrage of bullets and energy weapons barely dented its thick black armor. The clawed arms beneath its head rose to protect its eyes from the oncoming assault.
The gunfire began to lessen as ammo was lost, and the creature noticed. With its head shielded, it approached through the fire storm. That’s when a cloud of fire billowed over it. It screeched and fell back. Alex stalked forward, their weapon drawn against their shoulder, and let loose another bout of streaming flame. The creature retreated, it’s clicks an incessant stream of fearfulness.
“I am so glad I grabbed my flamethrower instead!” Alex shouted. Many of the crew realized their weapons were not effective against the creature, backing under their respective shelters beneath command boards.
Alex’s weapon sputtered and lost its flame. A curse under their breath and they scrambled to reload. But they weren’t fast enough. The creature sprang forward in the moment of weakness and latched its jaws around Alex’s leg. Alex screamed as the beast tore into flesh, red blood spattering on the white floors. It but down and began dragging Alex away, swinging and throwing them around. Alex screamed and cursed in their human tongue, beating at the creature’s head with their weapon.
The weaponless crew could only watch as their human crew mate battled a seemingly hopeless war. Some had run to the western doors, opening them and running away into the depths of the ship.
Din:ai was of the few that stayed, aiming a nearly empty energy gun at the armored beast. She was horrified watching as Alex was tossed about. But what more surprised her was the continued struggle on Alex’s part. They didn’t stop. They continued to beat down upon the creature’s head, screaming and kicking with their free leg at any exposed hide. Even as more blood was lost they fought back.
And Din:ai felt some of her courage, if not shame, return watching the small human fight. She aimed her gun, locking onto the beast’s one exposed weakness: it’s eyes. The black beady things were covered with it’s strange claws, shielding itself from the onslaught of Alex’s flamethrower. The creature was snarling as it dragged Alex, but Alex was snarling back. Din:ai, waiting for an opening, watched as Alex dug the flamethrower beneath the creatures contorted claws, letting go and tearing at it face with their own hands. Their fingers tore wildly, landing on the creatures jaws, trying to part the cage of flesh and teeth latched to their leg. Alex was able to tear away one of the creature’s jaw flaps and pulling with all their strength, ripped it off. Din:ai’s eyes widened. The creature screamed, and Alex screamed back.
The pain the creature was experiencing caused it to lose focus. It’s claws dropped, exposing its eyes. Din:ai took the shot. The wet, electrical sound of an energy discharge into flesh was heard. The creature stopped screaming. Instead it contorted and struggled. Alex was dropped, rolling away and clutching their leg. The creature continued its death throes for a moment more, then its legs curled together and it slumped to the ground, becoming still.
When Din:ai was sure the creature was dead, she crawled down to Alex. The human was clinging to their leg, clutching the horrific wound still leaking blood. Din:ai leaned over them tearing of her clothing covering her torso. She went to move Alex’s hands, but the deep growl the human made caused her to freeze. Din:ai had never heard such sounds come from humans, nor did she know they could do such things. They sounded as ugly as the creature’s. She stared down at Alex.
“Please remove your hands. We need to stifle the bleeding.” Alex stared up at her with large eyes, the white around the brown irises strangely animalistic. Scared and wild. Their chest was heaving, breath loud and raspy. They growled again, baring their teeth in a ugly grimace, then exhaling and letting their hands drop. Din:ai surveyed the wound before wrapping it. The beast had torn the flesh away from the bone, the off-white color unnatural underneath the red flesh. Bits of skin and meat hung from the wound, held together by the thinnest of muscle sinew. It was terrible.
Din:ai wrapped it, ignoring the red blood collecting on her hands. She instead focused on Alex’s wellbeing. “You are extraordinary.” She said. “I always wondered why you humans are held in such high regard. You should not be alive after that beast had you in its jaws.”
Alex snorted. “I’m from Australia.” They grunted, grimacing in pain. “I’ve seen bigger fuckers than that thing. Dealt with worse than that thing.”
Din:ai did not doubt her colleague’s words.
~~~~~~
Wow this was fun. This is the kind of stuff I like to write. Horror-thriller short stories with a little bit of badassery sprinkled in. Thank you again to everyone who bombarded my phone with notifications about how liked my first post was. That was wild. Brought me back to my Wattpad days. If anyone has any suggestions for future story prompts, I may or may not use it. I love writing about how humans can be stupid badasses, it brings in the serotonin. This blog might even become more sci-fi short stories with “humans are space orcs/Australians/insane” prompts. Dunno. lets see what happens.
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unfinishedslurs · 1 year
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soulmarks (stobin)
Robin is born with bruises on her knees. 
Her parents tell the story all the time. We were so worried, they say, but the doctors told us it was normal. Her soulmate must have just been learning to walk. That poor boy must have been quite the adventurer, the bruises never ceased! 
As she gets older, the odd marks keep showing up. On her hips, her arms, her shins. She’s sure she’s leaving her fair share of marks on them, too. They’re clumsy, both of them. 
When she’s eight, a set of fingers are clear around her wrist. Her parents look at each other sadly and murmur about things Robin doesn’t quite understand. 
They ask her to tell them if she ever gets a mark like that again. None ever appear. Their relief is obvious. 
Her mother sits her down. “When you meet your soulmate,” she tells Robin, “make sure he knows he is always welcome in our home.”
Robin thought it would be obvious. What’s hers is theirs, after all, and vise versa. Two halves of the same soul.
As she gets older, the idea rakes at her. Make sure he knows, her mother said. He is always welcome. 
She doesn’t know if it would be the same, if her soulmate was a girl. They have to be. After all, Robin is realizing, there’s no way her soulmate is a boy. 
When she’s fifteen, bruises appear on her face and knuckles and her mother shrieks at the sight of her. Robin just sits, quietly reeling. Girls don’t get in fights like this, she thinks numbly. Girls don’t…
That evening, three gashes scar across her body. Somehow she already knows they’ll be permanent. She cries herself to sleep. 
She keeps her head down, and barely even hears about the fight Steve Harrington got into with Jonathan Byers. It doesn't matter. She’s got bigger concerns than Steve Harrington. 
Things are quiet for the next year. Hardly any bruises, which makes her happy and upset in equal measure. She doesn’t know why the universe would do this to her. Why would it give her someone she can never fall in love with? Maybe the universe is homophobic, she thinks, but doesn’t laugh. It sure fucking feels like it. 
She tries to leave less bruises on them, too, as an avoidance technique. It doesn’t work. She’s got soccer practice, and marching band, and she runs into a pole when a pretty girl smiles at her across the street. Dammit. 
November comes back around, and with it, new marks. 
They’re awful. 
It starts out with a couple of scratches that look similar to the three from last year that she still wears. Then her mom has to watch, horrified, as new bruises appear on her face. When she pulls her shirt up, they’re on her ribs. Worse than they’ve ever been. 
She pretends to be too sick to go to school for the two days it takes for them to fade, to avoid the questions and the gossip. Last year was bad enough, after someone started a rumor her soulmate was in a gang. 
Something that doesn’t fade is the thin scar along her hairline. She pulls her hair down to cover it, and swears quietly at whoever the universe decided to gift her. 
(She worries about them all the time.)
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rennyrose · 1 year
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livio has been one of my favorite characters in all of trigun since i read trimax, thank you so much for all the content of him!! i LOVE how you draw and characterize him so much!
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Aw shioooooot thank you-! I think he’s one of my favorites as well haha- and Since LR are introduced so late in the story a lot of who they are and why is more or less up to each readers interpretation- I appreciate seeing other folk’s thoughts and portrayals of them, it’s always fascinating to see- I could write an essay about their characters but I won’t ramble too much pffpfpfpft
I tend to more often than not scrib both Liv and Raz being happy/excited/dorkish cause I think they both feel a great sense of relief and freedom by getting to experience autonomy for the first time in so long
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trashmakerarticle · 6 months
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Okay but before the justice league met the rest of the batfam I have a scenario
At one point one of the justice league, prolly Superman catches a ride with Batman for whatever reason and Superman being the goofy man he is, is getting awkward at the quiet notices a cd saying “the bat jams” and so he puts in the disc making a joke about Batman listening to heavy metal before B could even stop.
Superman isn’t sure what he expected but the blaring lyrics or barbie world is certainly not it, he looks over to B with shock written all over his face but Batman will not tell about the fact that the kids had contributed to make that cd for him as a joke, he will not risk the knowledge of his family getting out there, will not risk more potential danger to come there way, and honestly didn’t want to deal with the questions.
And so all he simply says is “mm good song”
Superman is FROZEN, he feels like he discovered a new layer of Batman but he still can’t believe that he owns a disc that’s called ‘the bat jams’ and has barbie world on it, he simply can’t process the information that has just been given to him.
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