#goddessoftechnology
Text
once upon an eon ago, I drew {this for whumptober}, which @goddessoftechnology quickly cut into a proper fic, [splitting hairs.] I was delighted, and chopped together a follow up, [on the cutting room floor].
turns out i still can’t leave well enough alone, because here’s more. graham might have freed himself from manny’s net, but he’s not out of trouble yet. directly picking up from where cutting room floor left off:
[it’s on ao3 here]
~*~*~*~
“Graaaaham.” Lilting, soft, pleasant.
Don’t look back, don’t hesitate, keep going, keep going, keep going.
“Graaaahaaaam.” Singsongy, cheerful.
Don’t stop. Don’t look back. Go, go, go.
“Graham, you little weasel, how did you escape?” Yep, there’s the anger.
Run.
Graham rounded a corner, cloak flying out behind him, and dove into a dark corner behind tall stalagmites. They towered over his head like bars, like a cage. Just continuing the theme of the day, then. He scrambled deeper—he had to take a second, catch his breath. He hadn’t been running that long, but ohhh, he still could taste the minty knockout flavor on his lips and he could see stars twinkling in the shadows of the cave, threatening to chew his vision to darkness again. And he wouldn’t be able to get free a second time, he was quite certain.
Manny would never give him a second chance.
His head and hand were possibly both bleeding again; he wasn’t sure. The little scrap of cloth he’d wrapped around his cut thumb wouldn’t stay put, and he couldn’t see what the side of his head looked like after Manny’d torn a huge chunk of hair out, but the side of his face felt damp. Sweat, or blood, who could tell in the darkness of the caves. He swiped at his hair, winced, dropped his hand to his chest, tried to soothe his rabbit-quick heart.
“I should have blindfolded you,” Manny continued. His voice rebounded off cave walls, a sick susurration building upon itself. Graham didn’t think the little knight was anywhere near him, but it seemed like Manny was whispering in his ear. All the more reason to calm his sharp breathing. His gasps could certainly carry right back. “I’ll start by breaking your knees this time, how does that sound?”
Graham decided he’d stayed still quite long enough at that charming threat, and he started creeping along a side tunnel with as much haste as he could manage while still being completely silent. His metal tipped boots were great for adventuring, less great for sneaking, but he’d rather not take them off. He’d already had enough injury done to his person today without stepping on something sharp in naught but tattered socks.
Mmmmaaaaaybe this tunnel, try this one. Or what about that one. Stars, which way?
“You’re too resourceful by far. I should have expected that. How did you escape?”
Very painfully, Graham thought, glancing down at his hand, which he had accidentally cut while slicing ropes off his wrists. He wondered if he was leaving a blood droplet trail for someone to follow. Humans wouldn’t notice, but with goblins on his trail...
And there were goblins. He’d been tackled by them earlier, and while they’d not been in sight while he’d been, ah, detained by Manny, he knew they couldn’t be far behind. Manny couldn’t recapture him on his own, Graham figured, not while Graham was on high alert and watchful. Manny tended to be more talk than fight, right up until the point when he caught someone unawares, or, even better, had them tied wrist and ankle to a chair.
Then, he was all fight.
All knife, rather.
Ow.
Out of the darkness, to his left: “Graaaham.”
Okay, that one sounded close. Echo, or truth? Graham froze, one foot half raised, and glanced behind him—no one, but the whispers were rattling around the cave now, as Manny called again and again, gently, softly. “We have so much more to talk about, dear friend. Come back.”
“He wants to get in your head,” Graham mumbled to himself, spinning around another corner. “Don’t listen.”
“Feeling dizzy, Graham?” the shadows asked. The shadows sounded a little smug. “Feeling nauseous? Come lie down, Graham. I’ll take care of you.”
The problem was, he was feeling a bit off. The knock out potion, the anxiety, everything. Adrenaline could carry him far, but his strength was waning, and fast at that. Still. Keep going, keep going. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t...
“Graham.”
Okay, stop. His head, pounding worse than his heart. Leaned against cold cave wall, sharp stone digging into shoulders. Don't faint, don’t faint. Deep breath, deep breath. It’s okay, it’s okay.
“Graaaaahaam.”
He was half tempted to shout at the voice. “Go away!” he wanted to wail. “Stop following me! Leave me alone!” He didn’t, of course, but he did project the thought as loudly as he could.
Manny’s echoes kept building. The calls never seemed to stop. Whispers and murmurs and lies and pleads and. And. His name, endlessly crowding against his ears, dizzily confusing him—which direction had he come from? Which direction was he going? Which tunnel? Which cavern? This? That? Where? It was so dark, and the voice was everywhere. His name, everywhere.
He tripped over something, stumbled, banged against the wall, the floor, a ringing clatter and a harsh gasp for air, in pain, he was making too much noise, was going to be caught. He scrambled up, hands scraped raw, hurried down another tunnel, don’t stop, but the echoes followed.
“Graham.”
“Graham.”
“Graham.”
“Please,” he whispered, head in hands. “Stop.”
In the darkness ahead of him, an unknowable distance, a low growl cut through the whispers like a knife. A growl sharp and deadly. Tasting of fire and brimstone and death and dragon. Graham’s blood went icy, and his hand immediately fumbled in his cloak for his bow. He grabbed it, held it, his other hand tracing the purple fletching on the accompanying arrow, waited in silence, scarcely breathing. Staring into the darkness, daring it to blink back. It didn’t.
He realized the whispers had stopped completely. Weren’t starting again. He thought he heard a muffled curse, and footsteps, sounding uncomfortably close, hurrying in the opposite direction, but couldn’t be quite sure. A wave of relief surged through his achy, abused joints anyway.
Odd, that. A dragon, here, in the darkness somewhere, and it was less alarming than Manny.
To be fair, it was hard to miss a dragon in a room, but Manny could always appear from any angle. Graham straightened. The horrible brimstone reek was practically tangible, and threatened to dig into his memories and summon horrible visions of the past, of loss, but he shook his head firmly, forced that same distant detachment he’d needed when he’d touched his own stolen locks of hair not an hour earlier.
He’d been prepared to meet it again. He knew it was here, he knew what to expect. He hadn’t been idle in the years since he’d last been in this labyrinth of smoke and shadow and death. There wasn’t a lot of information—most of the books he’d been able to find were a bit, ah, singed.
It was deadly, dangerous...but an animal, acting on instinct. There were things he’d learned on adventures that could help. Mostly those things were don’t get caught, but at least a dragon wouldn’t drug you, tie you up, and stab you with a leatherworking hook.
He’d been practicing what he’d do. Practicing how to breathe. How to think. How to act. Not easy, stars above, not easy, but. There was a glimmer of hot courage, deep in his core, and he breathed deeply and carefully, focusing. It felt like how he’d worked hard to learn how to shoot his archery kit. A concentration that absorbed his body, his thoughts. He could do this. This was his original obstacle, after all. This, he could handle, now, or he would never have come down here in the first place.
Plus, he could sort of tell which direction the dragon was, so. Easier to avoid than Manny.
Speaking of. He didn’t hear Manny, but that didn’t mean Graham was in the clear. Those goblins were probably still spread out behind him, hunting him, and he doubted Manny would call them off. The little knight wouldn’t mind if one or two of them turned into dragon snacks so long as he caught his ultimate prize again, but Manny himself almost certainly would be taking himself back to his little torture room to sulk among his knives and poisons.
So, the dragon, and the caves ahead of him. That, he could handle.
He would never forget what the dragon had done. But the dragon wasn’t the despicable, hideous beast Daventry had made him out to be, not really. He was just a caged animal that had never been shown any kindness. Those deeds, terrible as they were, could never, ever be forgotten.
But forgiven? Perhaps.
Graham nodded firmly to himself. Keep going. Manny might be gone for now, but the goblins were probably still around, and it was definitely time to see sunshine again. Go.
~*~*~
A shimmery light caught his eye, but it wasn’t sunlight. A different sort of light.
The mirror.
He hadn’t expected to stumble across it, not after all that had happened. He’d kind of forgotten about it, honestly.
He spun, squinting—and, yes, there, high above him, the rock he’d leaned on...stars, it might have been hours, might have been days, who knew. Either way. The rock he’d leaned on, right before the goblins jumped him and slammed him into the dirt and smothered his breath away. Which meant if he could figure out how to get back up there, he could get out of these thrice-damned caves.
And, delightfully, he would be successful in his quest, too.
The mirror gleamed at him even in the darkness. As he picked it up, he looked into it, to see what horrible yanking and mauling Manny had done to his hair. But rather than the ragged patch of hair, he saw....
He nearly dropped it.
Startled, he looked behind himself, looked behind the mirror, patted the ornamentation with his hand as though looking for a trick of magic. Oh, there was magic here, all right.
Magic that had planted him firmly in a crown. Had washed the blood from his cheeks for an instant, had fixed his tousled and torn hair, had crowned him. The reality of his face drifted back in after a moment, the raw, jangled fear in his eyes and the scrapes and the tears, but the ghostly crown still hovered above his brow. He reached up to his real hairline, and felt nothing—reached out to the mirror’s crown, and his bloody thumb smeared red across it. It didn’t fade.
But the mirror didn’t lie—it couldn’t lie. It was a mirror, after all. He ducked his head away, looked back, as though he could trick it into disappearing, still saw a crown...and then looked away again when he heard chittering and scraping and chatter echoing behind him. The crown moved with him, and the mirror showed the look of alarm on his face.
The goblins were coming, and he was standing here with a magic mirror, a handful of arrows, and really nothing else in his favor.
Except...well, there was a crown. He had that to work with, now. And maybe something more.
The Graham in the mirror grinned.
~*~
The goblins rounded the corner eagerly, spears in hand, vaulting over rocks and splashy puddles and glowing mushrooms. They had a mission: the goblin that smelled of sky and sun and outside had sent them to catch the funny tall fellow in the red cloak sneaking around in the tunnels. They didn’t exactly know why. But the sky goblin was brave enough to spend lots of time above ground without even a spear, so he was worth listening to. At least for right now.
It wasn't like they’d had anything else they were doing right then. A big game of hide and seek was always fun.
But the goblin in the lead stopped—they were entering dragon territory, here, and it wouldn’t do to catch big Hornswoggle’s attention. The dragon had a temper the length of a broken femur and wasn’t fond of goblins.
Probably because he hadn’t particularly liked the goblins trying to tie a saddle to him and take him for a ride, but that was neither here nor there.
It didn’t smell like dragon at the moment—Hornswoggle tended to carry a reeking scent of brimstone and bone that never fully faded from the tunnels, but it did drop to more of a general heat when he wasn’t in the immediate area. But it was best to be clever and quiet here, or else they’d end up as goblin snacks.
Anyway, the goblin in the lead stopped, but no one behind him was paying attention, so one by one they all slammed into each other and collapsed into a little heap of armor and spears and flailing arms. This new punching game was kinda fun, until someone’s helmet got knocked off in the ensuing scuffle and someone’s ear got stepped on and then there were unhappy tears and yelps and they scrambled up, glaring at each other and swearing and insulting and generally grumbling a lot.
From the cavern ahead of them, a voice—regal in bearing, filled with majesty and a touch of irritation: “Who disturbs my peace so improperly? I would have you kneel before me!” It echoed around them, and the goblins leapt to attention.
This seemed like a new game.
They nosed their way out into the cavern, and were delighted to find a trail of glowing mushrooms leading up to a plinth with a throne. They eagerly hurried up the path, and came to another halt when the king—magnificently imposing, sprawled over a throne draped with fabric, with a glimmering crown on his brow—glared imperiously at them. “This is highly improper,” he intoned gravely. “Why were you not properly announced at the castle gate?”
The goblins chittered excuses all at the same time, their voices echoing off each other, and the king glanced around. “I suppose I may fit you into my desperately busy schedule,” he said with a weary sigh. The room was completely empty, and the goblins snickered, pleased with the joke. “Even without a formal introduction, however, I suspect I can guess your claim. You seek a man, yes? A man in a red cloak?”
The goblins nodded eagerly. Had the king seen the man?
“He is not here,” the king told them.
One goblin tried to point out the red cloak the king was very clearly sitting on, and the others swatted his hand down. No sense spoiling a good game.
“So, now you are without your prize,” the king said. He waved a hand airily in their general direction, a scrap of damp fabric fluttering behind the movement. “I should have you know, that man is under my kingly protection, and I do not like my men being bothered. I demand that you cease chasing him, and tell your leader the same. You don’t want to tempt my wrath, for I am,” he took a deep breath, and yelled, “the Dragon King!”
His triumphant, majestic claim bounced around the caves, down corridors and tunnels and stalactites, and the goblins chittered again, gesturing for the king, grand as he was, to maybe keep his voice down. Hornswoggle wasn’t nearby, but he might hear dinner yelling, and then they all might be in a lot of trouble. Crispy fried trouble.
“You see my crown!” the king demanded. “You know my importance! The dragon will not harm me, for I am its king! The, uh, Dragon King!” It sounded a bit less impressive the second time.
The goblins looked doubtfully at him. King or not, he still looked pretty chewable, and they were starting to think maybe this new game was running its course, and they had a job to do before they could go home and play Cinderella. They’d just acquired a new glass slipper from some caravan a few days ago, after all. They took a step toward the makeshift throne, starting to raise their spears.
The king sat up hastily, bounced to his feet. “You demand a show of my power? I shall be compassionate toward you, if you do my bidding, if you talk to your leader—even though I have no need to be kind to you, I shall honor our agreements. I am a very honorable king, you know. But I am also thoughtful, and I am, erm, very brave—and I shall prove both to you now!”
He drew a bow, the bow the goblins had neglected to take from him when they’d caught him earlier, notched a purple feathered arrow, seemed to whisper a word or two, and let the arrow fly into the darkness, far above their heads.
Not at the goblins, who had huddled together in alarm at the bow’s appearance. He missed entirely. The arrow shot away, high above their heads, vanishing into the shadows.
They started to laugh, to separate—an archer with such bad aim! What a silly king!—but then something happened that made them freeze and draw back together with a yelp.
A bell. Clear and proud, struck with an arrow and ringing bright and clear and echoing.
Immediately followed by a deep dragon’s roar that rattled the caverns and shook the floor.
“I am the Dragon King, and I can fearlessly summon the dragon to do my bidding as I see fit!” Graham yelled, over the suddenly terrified goblin chittering. “But I shall not attack you with him, if you promise to honor my agreement!” All the goblins stared in utter silence, waiting for what would save them. “Tell your leader that I am protected, that I am not to be trifled with, that I am to be left alone, and if he dares shows his face above ground in Daventry there will be trouble, I swear it.”
The goblins nodded frantically.
“Then, go!”
And suddenly the king was standing alone in a cavern, the pale glow of mushrooms illuminating his grim smile.
~*~*~
Graham carefully removed the delicate crown. The glowing mushrooms left a trace of glimmering dust on his fingers, in his hair. “Take that, Ginger,” he said proudly. “I knew that minor in creative costuming was gonna come in handy someday!” The little makeshift crown—made hastily but rather well, he thought—of sticks and mushroom stalks and the little glowing caps, didn’t look much like Edward’s under scrutiny, but in the shadows, it was just impressive enough to stay some goblin hands long enough for him to talk.
And, with luck, they wouldn’t work with Manny anymore, which would make it harder for Manny to put another kidnapping scheme into play. And if that didn’t work out long term, if Manny got them back under his thumb later, he’d at the very least bought enough time to get above ground and make plans to protect himself. Royal Guard Number One would probably have an idea or two, too.
The dragon roared again, and it was much, much closer this time, the scent of brimstone rolling through the tunnels ahead of it. It wanted dinner, and it was going to have it if he kept standing around.
Well. He’d sort of forgiven it, as best he could, but he definitely didn’t need to be here when it arrived. He pocketed his precious, beautiful bow and its perfect, precious arrows, flung his cloak back over his shoulders, and hurried away. While he’d been scanning the room for the bell while waiting for the goblins to approach, he’d finally seen the path leading up, and from there it would be maybe five minutes to the surface. To home. To safety.
To. Um. Well, he could process that shiny hat part later.
And to a better haircut. The mirror had foretold that, too.
#it turns out the best way to get me to keep writing is to praise my little attempts#real gerbil thursday still happening tomorrow lol#make some trouble and make it double#fic'ing#kings quest#King's Quest#King Graham#ch2#goddessoftechnology#Manannan#goblin appreciation blog#this is blatant italic abuse#watch for a cheeky game quote smooshed in there
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Homemade Girlboss Battle: Round 1, Side B
these are the matchups for side B of round 1! these polls will be released every 45 minutes starting at 2:00 PM GMT on April 15th (use this timezone converter to see when that is for you!). each poll will last for 7 days once again, so youve got plenty of time to propagandize!
Lady Ignis Solon (@containmentbreach) vs. Alice Luoja (@cantdanceflynn & @pyxehastoomanyinterests)
Cadmus (@lesbx) vs. Delilah Envie (@scrubbythebubble)
Julia Vancer (@aubadeempress / @aubadeatelier) vs. Heather Lucille Valentine (@derelictheretic)
Xoco (@selinas-ships) vs. Edgar Rennington (@pvssinboots / @pandrena)
Chris Laserbrain (@soupluvr03 / @orangebot) vs. Ms. Evenleigh AKA Evens (@kursed-curtain / @goddessoftechnology)
Purity (@poicyss) vs. Irene Witherspoon (@drebber)
Selene Cromswell (@clovenhooved) vs. Valerie Nerine Toine (@feeniehutjrs)
Odette (@catboirights) vs. Erinyes (@squideotape)
Ada (@thesaintelectric) vs. Ticketaker (@cherrycookies / @vermillionverse)
Quezal (@saturno-sol) vs. Olivia Reed (@cabooseisneat)
Patience (@cherry-spot / @cheery-spot-art) vs. Valerie Wester (@toa-arania)
Cecily (@twizzta / @cnid) vs. Heart Agnusdei (@trapdoornumberthree)
Poppy (@stobotnik) vs. Estelle Reyes (@bashirs)
Queen Medusa (@wiiabee) vs. Bianka Andromeda (@axolotlfied)
Ludovica Rossi (@raybotonline) vs. 002 (@texeoghea)
The Nameless Inquisitor/Inquisitor Whatshername (@kirjanikv6ilill) vs. Roberta Abarca (@siripedra)
#update post#sorry i couldnt get this one out sooner my muscles were really sore and i was tired as hell
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
SBI Whumptober #1 is a gift for Vee(aka @goddessoftechnology). It’s asking ‘what if everything went wrong’ in our fic that we’re working on
Technoblade fell to the side, a thunk resonating from the door next to him.
Above him, a blue man chuckled, severing a mushroom from where it was growing out of his palm and crushing it into the long gashes along his back.
The man grinned wide enough to be visible even with Techno’s blurred vision. “That’s going to leave a mark.”
Every grain felt like a drop of fire in the wounds.
The man knelt as the pinkette hacked up blood, every muscled screaming as the coughs shook his body. “Not so strong now, are you, Beast!”
The last word was practically spit, startling Techno as it shifted from the triumphant whisper George had been speaking in before.
“You killed him. You killed my friend, so I’ll kill you. First, though… I want you to see what your actions caused.”
With that, the brunette stood and moved out of the way, and-
Techno’s family were laying on the ground just past his severed wings, blood from him mixing with the family members that he’d killed.
Techno couldn’t help it. He screamed, and screamed, and screamed. He bucked forward, ignoring the jostling of the chains around his wrists, and ignoring the pain erupting from his back.
His family was there, and their eyes were sightless, and his wings were stained with blood and torn, and they’d all had their throats torn out just like the pinkette had done to Dream oh Prime oh Prime oh Prime.
What had he done?
They were gone. Everything and everyone he had ever cared for was gone.
As George left, boots clicking in blood puddles, Techno curled in on himself and sobbed.
He sobbed until the world was torn apart around him, just like his heart.
#dream smp#dsmp#fanfic#whumptober#sbi fanfic#sbi au#sbi#sleepy bois inc#technoblade#dsmp au#wingfic#fanfiction#writing
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
A bit of some double fanart, of @goddessoftechnology 's oc Theodore Ashdown, and fanart of my fandragon of him
#@ashdown#not my oc#kings quest#traditional art#fanart#character design#flight rising#flight rising pearlcatcher
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thanks @toonysart for tagging me, rules being post your current WIP with six sentences.... so here's my Gregson and Sholmes fic.
Also tagging @kursed-curtain @goddessoftechnology @nexttrickanvils @thewatercolours @telthor and anyone that has a fic they want to share with the class.
"Who's the guest?"
"Why, naturally myself, Iris and yourself–"
"No."
"Oh come now, why ever not?"
"Would you like me to list it alphabetically or numerically?"
Herlock leaned back, pondering with a finger on his temple.
"That was rhetorical, Sholmes."
"Ah."
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Eagle Feathers and Dreaming Weather
or; an alternate game over.
Or or: The fowllacy of man.
Special thanks to @goddessoftechnology for encouraging mine antics :)
--
The thing was. ...The thing was, was that flying, flying ever so high up into the sky was near addicting to him. Up there, it was as though all of his worries could float away into the clouds. Up there, Manannan couldn’t get him. Of course, he would have to go back down eventually, but he could pretend, for a little while, couldn’t he? The wizard had been going on longer and longer trips, so he felt safe going on this flight around Llewdor, the longest he’s done yet.
As he descended on the thermals back towards the manor, back towards where he was just a slave, amounting to nothing. He thought longingly of the next opportunity he would have to go on an outing. He was so close to figuring out that cat cookie. He had the missing page, and all he was missing was a mandrake root. He would have to try looking eastward on his next journey. His eyesight as an eagle, too, was much sharper than when he was a man. He looked down at the manor as he approached. There was someone standing there, on the little foot path made by the treading of feet over long long years between the house and the chicken pen. It was Manannan. He had a look of utter fury on his face. Gwydion tried to fly away, but couldn’t. Manannan roared something in pure fury, he couldn’t understand it amongst the panicked beating of his heart. Manannan raised his arms… and then something hit him.
The eagle screeched in panic. It was falling, but, it managed to get its wings back under control. There was a robed figure below it who was rubbing his hands in satisfaction. Weirdo. The eagle winged away. Something told it to go east. It did so.
There was a massive spider, and the eagle felt something like disgust so it took the spider and threw it into the ocean. When it returned to look for more spiders it saw another robed figure. She said something to it. It screeched at her. She looked impossibly sad before saying something else and then it hurt. It hurt, it tried to scream. It couldn’t. It tried to say the words to turn back. Nothing happened. He screeched in fear, in pain. The lady said something again, frantic. He couldn’t turn back why couldn’t he turn back. Thinking was hard, and listening harder, and why couldn’t he turn back? The spell was temporary the book said so. If he doesn’t transform back into himself, the spell would wear off after some time. He can’t turn himself back. Maybe he has to wait? But thinking of that brought dread, deeper and starker than any of the pain. The lady was still speaking to him. Why? He tried to listen.
“… Daventry…” The only word he could make out was Daventry. What was Daventry? Was it a kind of prey? No, no he was a person not a bird. Was Daventry a place? That sounded right but why Daventry?
He tried the counterspell again. Eagle begone, myself, return! It hurt. He was puffed up, as big as he could be. He felt smaller. He was scared. The lady was gone. Daventry. Daventry. What was he doing before this? He was doing… magic. He was collecting ingredients. What was he collecting? A small feather, a tuft of fur… an unusually smooth stone, dried mistletoe… the ocean. Mud. Lard and cactus and mandrake. They were used for something… he couldn’t remember. He started repeating these in his mind. It still hurt. There was a big ship underneath him now. He landed on the tallest part. A man screamed and tried to chase him away. He bit the man. The man left him alone, after that. He then slept. It was not peaceful. But it was not a nightmare. He wasn’t in pain in it, but there was fire. Fire as far as he could see. There was a puddle of clear water, almost the last in the land. He needed a spoonful of mud. But there were no spoons.
When he awoke, it was to the man from earlier glowering at him. He screeched and left. The man shook his fist at him and yelled something, another weird person. He didn’t matter though, he definitely wasn’t a Daventry. He flew east, or maybe west, he wasn’t sure. But there was now an island below him, it had plant life tangled and gnarled but rich in substance. Maybe he could figure out what a Daventry was there. He perched himself in a tree to survey the area. It still hurt. There was a small field of rocks, though none were smooth or of unusual color. There were other, smaller birds, and he could see a snake lying in wait. He settled in to birdwatch, there was no hurry, and he could run over the important things again while watching the snake watch a rabbit.
#kings quest#kings quest fic#alexander kq#Bird Time AU#that'll work for now :)#oh and this is quite angsty#just a heads up :)#and (again) special thanks to the wonderful lovely 10/10 Vee#for listening to my rambling about this and encouraging it#don't worry this fic will have a happy ending#eventually#:)
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
So, I write in the present tense when I'm writing a scene in one of @goddessoftechnology's continuities, because even though we don't have similar styles, I like to think the tense shift evokes her flavour just a tiny bit. And now... I'm starting to like it for its own sake. I don't care one way or the other when it comes to books I read, but with my own writing - oh with writing I have always been in the past tense camp. But I think I may be rolling headfirst into a conversion. Tonight I caught myself thinking, "Should I shift my novel to present tense?" I'll try some drafting and see where it takes me.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Last line tag
Tagged by @lady-merian thank you!
Rules: Write the latest line from your wip (or post where you last left off in your art) and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don’t reblog.
"This is clearly a ridiculous initiation ceremony with no sense of when to stop."
... Yep, that's what it is.
No pressure tags: @gailyinthedark @telthor @captmickey @kursed-curtain @goddessoftechnology @kindredspiritsnotsorare and anyone else who might feel like it.
7 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Desert Moon, scene from @goddessoftechnology ’s fic empty pages (unexplained dazes)
Just loved the imagery of this scene :)
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey guys I’ve had this little nugget of an idea of a crossover between these two franchises for quite some time now. But I never wrote those ideas down cuz you know the bane of writers existence. Actually writing and I just sort of wanted to keep it to myself I guess. But a tumblr mutual of mine @goddessoftechnology inspired me to make this cuz they wrote something that they enjoyed. Even if it was very self indulgent. And now their header (the words that describe the blog) says “do the thing that you want to do.” So I did do the thing I wanted to do.
So yeah this is gonna be my first multi chapter thing and I have no idea how many chapters there are gonna be, but I’m sure that there will be ALOT. I’m already done with the first chapter and I’ll post that in a bit. Just wanted to share my original stuff/ art for once since I only reblog stuff. And this is the first art piece that I’m actually happy with in a loooong time. So yeah. That’s about it
Oh also here’s the link to the ao3 version.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/41017731
#art#fanfiction#crossover fanfiction#crossover fanart#little nightmares#king’s quest#pen art#little nightmare mono#little nightmares six#Manny#Graham
11 notes
·
View notes
Photo
It’s pouring out, and you’re on an adventure, and you’re lost, and the lighting flash and immediate accompanying thunder makes you jump, but the lightning also illuminates a window. An old manor, half hidden in trees and vines.
You knock. No one answers. You try the handle. It turns. You enter. A decadent but slightly derelict hallway greets you. You doubt anyone lives here. You drip rainwater as you stumble forward, unnerved by the violence of the storm echoing around you. You call out, but no one responds. You didn’t expect anyone to. You find a living space and light a fire in the hearth with shaking hands. You fall asleep listening to the warm crackle of the fire.
Someone wakes you. You’re nervous, but polite. The stranger--the owner of the manor, you realize--smiles gently. He offers you a towel, for you have dripped all over his rug and chair. You accept. He asks where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. He wonders if anyone is expecting you home tonight. You admit you’re on an adventure, and you have many miles to go. He asks you if you would like dinner and a rest before continuing in the morning, once the storm has ended. You relax, and agree.
He makes your favorite meal--pancakes, how kind of him. He serves it to you, insisting you needn’t do anything to help. They’re fluffy and perfect. But after a few bites, you start thinking it tastes sort of metallic beneath the sweet syrup. You decide it must be the lightning burning the air that you taste.
The world starts going a bit dark around the edges, and you realize that even though the stranger has been smiling a lot, you haven’t actually seen his teeth.
(x) (@goddessoftechnology)
#i still reserve the right to draw tiberius in future lol#we didn't actually establish the stranger as a vampire but i could NOT shake the image#goddessoftechnology#King's Quest#kings quest#King Graham#you thought whumptober was over hahahahahaaaa
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
ROUND 2 / SIDE B / POLL 3
Ms. Evenleigh AKA Evens (@kursed-curtain / @goddessoftechnology) vs. Purity (@poicyss)
Ms. Evenleigh info:
Description: “Do not underestimate me. Speak to my brother that way again, and you’ll suffer worse.” Co-running an illegal underground fighting ring beside her brother Mr. Odden, Evens is the cold and calculated contrast to her brother's eccentric spontaneity. She takes care of finances and makes Odds' wild ideas more plausible and possible. They had humble beginnings, cheating at games and eventually starting their own little casino. Eventually that had to be... Disposed of (cough cough burned to the ground). The fight club was her brother's big idea, but Evens was the one to suggest they use the casino money and their vast connections. Even though she is a wanted criminal, she was raised on the streets, caring for her younger brother more than she cared for herself. Even in their age, they protect each other through thick and thin. There's no Evens without Odds.
Crimes:
Stealing (Much more often when she was living on the streets)
Multiple gambling related crimes (Cheating, scamming, getting banned from every casino location in the area)
Running an underground fight club with her brother
Scarily good at disposing of evidence
Kidnapping & memory wiping (This is how the fighters for the fight club are often obtained)
Assisting in arson
Will crush the bones of anyone misbehaving. Does not tolerate bad work from the fight club's workers
Not canon yet but probably commits tax fraud
Other notes from the submitter: srry to anyone who simps for her she's aroace ok gl gamers <3 may the best girlie win
Purity info:
Description: Purity is a deity who's main job is to just make sure nothing disrubs the timelines. She's there to fix any mistakes that might change the way things "should be". She keeps the world pure of chaos by cleaning out and filtering anything that may go wrong. However, since her job is mostly just to make sure other's aren't falling behind on their jobs, she has a lot of free time. She may not actually be a young god, but she acts like one. Her attention span has been broken by ages of doing absolutely nothing, so she has started people watching to pass the time. She loves people and the art they make! So she tries to make some art herself, turning some teenagers into Magical Girls and dropping them into a world without magic. This is like introducing an invasive species but worse. She's basically writing magical fanfiction for actual people and forcing them to abide by the story's whims because she is bored. She writes fanfic like a middle schooler, so it's all needlessly edgy at times too. But it's ok! She's having fun :) And she's so passionate and genuine about it all, if you tell her she's doing bad she'll cry. You wouldn't want to make her cry! She's so cute and full of joy and girlishly whimsy 🥺 But yeah she doesn't get that what she's doing is wrong she's just having fun #girlswag
Crimes:
💖Introduction of foreign magic in a magic-less world (corrupts the world, fucks up the ecosystem and power dynamics of the entire world, will eventually have major consequences)
💖Introduction of foreign species (she has to make monsters for the magical girls to fight when there isn't enough crime going on. This is obviously Bad monsters are Bad)
💖Mundicide (Read above)
💖General Manipulation (TECHNICALLY if you didn't want to be a Magical Girl you could just say no… But she deliberately does research to find girls who she know CAN'T deny her. Usually this means scouting out children who don't know any better)
💖Indoctrination (Read above)
💖Corruption
💖Psychological Abuse
💖Whatever Waking Someone Up From A Coma Counts As (One of her magical girls is a sick girl who she forced to wake up from her medically induced coma. She is not healthy enough to be a magical girl. But she is also Purity's favorite, so she just forces the other girls to protect her with their lives teehee)
💖Not Doing Her Fucking Job
💖General Hypocrisy
💖Being so cute and nice all the time aww awww
Other notes from the submitter: She is an antagonist for a web comic I am planning on making and is SPECIFICALLY inspired by Drosselmyer (Princess Tutu) and Kyubey (Madoka Magica) so if you like her please watch Princess Tutu I owe that series my life
15 notes
·
View notes
Link
Chapters: 2/7
Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Raiden Ei | Baal/Yae Miko
Characters: Raiden Ei | Baal, Raiden Makoto | Original Baal, Puppet Raiden Shogun | Baal, Scaramouche (Genshin Impact), Yae Miko (Genshin Impact), Traveler (Genshin Impact)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Child Neglect, Grief/Mourning, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, au where makoto makes the shogun and scara, And then dies, and then ei becomes a neglectful parent, until miko has enough and manipulates everyone into fixing this family
Summary:
“I was her shadow!” Ei snarls, the tears of a god like ichor flowing, dripping from her cheeks and burning through the stone floor. Her polearm comes crashing down against Lumine’s sword, sparks flying, and Lumine grits her teeth but gives not an inch. “I was her protector! I was never meant to rule - I should have gone instead. I should have died instead! I should have died, Miko!”
“But you didn’t,” Miko says, and her voice could almost be cruel in its softness, in its calm ease, a placid lake in the face of Ei’s crackling rage. “You didn’t, Ei. You lived. You lived, and that made all the difference.”
(Or: A rewrite of the Inazuma arc where Makoto is the one who makes the Shogun and Scaramouche, Ei gets character development, and the Traveler finds themselves involved in deity familial drama)
#genshin impact#eimiko#raiden ei#raiden makoto#raiden shogun#scaramouche#yae miko#lumine#fix it fic#canon rewrite#part two of: the inazuma arc made me Mad
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
SBI Whumptober day 5 - betrayal + “you really thought I cared about you?” in which Phil… well, he has a very bad day. @goddessoftechnology I’m really freaking proud of this one so I’m showing it off like a cat who leaves mice on your pillow
Philza thudded onto the ground, wheezing. “Kristin?”
The croaking of his voice was agony in his throat, but Kristin mattered more, especially when there was fire licking up the sides of the concrete chunks littering the ground.
Only silence answered, and despite himself, Phil’s wings fluffed up in panic.
(He’d never really been able to hide his care. Especially for her.)
Then, blessedly, a sound. But- it wasn’t Kristin. It was Razor, the lead villain, stepping up into a large rock in front of him. Shit.
Phil pushed himself up, panic shooting through him.
“Where is Lady?” He practically snarled the words, but the villain only chuckled and waved a beckoning hand to somewhere behind the blonde.
Philza’s heart sank as rocks shifted behind him, fearing the worst.
So he was caught completely off guard when his lover Kristin walked into his field of view, completely unharmed and- and obviously smiling under the veil hanging down from her beautiful black hat.
Philza knew his face was horrified under his own veil.
(Maybe he should have expected this. After all, good things never really happen to Phil, especially not when those good things bear the moniker ‘Lady of Death.’)
Kristin moved to stand beside Razor, which- no. This couldn’t be happening.
“Well hello, Philza.” Phil’s blood froze. His heart stopped.
“W-what are you doing, Kris? Why are you there?” He shakily stood, obstinately hiding behind the wall of denial until it was shattered in front of him.
“Oh, you can’t really be that stupid, can you? I’m a villain, Phil.”
No.
No no no no no no no, she couldn’t be! This was Kristin, he knew every one of her tells when she was stressed, he knew her laugh better than any other sound, her smile was practically imprinted onto his brain. Philza knew her.
(He loved her.)
The avian collapsed onto his knees, his wings fluffed up and tucked close to his back in distress.
And it was only then that he realized chirps had begun to spill out of his mouth.
He forced them back enough to speak.
“But- what about everything we did? All the time we spent together? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” His tone verged on desperation, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care, not when everything he knew and cared about was being methodically torn to shreds in front of him.
Kristin scoffed, paper thin wings shifting behind her. “You shouldn’t be *this devastated. We were barely friends, why are you-“
“Because I love you!” Phil slapped a hand onto his mouth in horrified shock at the shout that burst out, tearing up his throat.
For a moment, everything was silent.
Then, horribly, Kristin started to laugh.
First it was a giggle, but it quickly escalated into full blown laughter, as she doubled over.
Phil fought the urge to hide from the world behind his wings, only watching as silent tears ran down his face.
Finally, Kristin straightened, out of breath. “You actually *fell in love with me?* I didn’t think my acting was that good, but if I achieved that level, without even trying? Maybe I should have been an actress.”
Phil shrank in on himself slightly, grief flooding his senses.
“Did you really think I cared about you? At all? You’re even more of an idiot than I thought.”
Against his will, a broken sob slipped out, and Philza crumpled the rest of the way onto the ground.
Kristin and Razor only turned and left.
And Phil finally, finally, broke.
Heaving, hiccuping sobs stole away his breath, and tears blurred his vision and streamed down his face.
He curled into the fetal position, and his wings wrapped as tightly around him as possible.
He stayed there until long after the sun had set.
#dream smp#fanfic#dsmp#sbi#sbi fanfic#ao3 writer#writers on tumblr#philza#superhero#superhero au#Kristin Watson#sbi whumptober#whumptober#whump prompt#whump writing#whump#whumpblr
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gift for friend of their dragons Faust and Vera!
@goddessoftechnology
9 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
darknesshell22
The heart of a Warrior.
leanmeanfitnessfiend-blog
FITNESS FREAK
raffertychapman99-blog
Untitled
fourleafclover6813
Cheryl's Studyblr