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squerlly · 1 month

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Fair Exchange Chapter 2

----------------------"love has an edge, don't fall off"---------------------

Alastor x (F! doe wife reader)

The Buck----------------------------------------------------

y/n served me my plate of venison for this morning's breakfast, she was wearing a 1950s retro-style dress. it was brand new, perhaps something she picked from Rosie's while getting my food for the week. Charlie has been bombarding me with ridiculous ideas for the hotel, but I'm more concerned for y/n. Angel has been extra close to her, I don't need him raising questions about her ties to me.

"y/n" her Marilyn Monroe curls bounce as she turns her head to me, fluffy ears twitching. I never knew how to feel about y/n being a doe, I find it quite fitting for her as my wife. Rosie says that I'm the luckiest demon for having a wife as kind and gentle as y/n. but the truth is she is right, y/n is kind and gentle... but that's because she's not supposed to be here.

"is there something I forgot?" she looks at me confused as she grips the tray in her hand "Not at all my dear, I would just like you to keep your distance from the others" Her shoulders fall slightly before she nods. she always puts my needs before her own almost as if she's afraid of me, I wouldn't be surprised if she was. y/n is very... obedient, I have never had an issue with her like with Husker.

she leaves the room with soft clicks of her heels on my wooden office floor, closing the door behind her I look down at my plate, the fresh deer meat glistening with blood. y/n always shows her gratitude in ways that some might not always see such as observing how I like my food prepared, or waking up early so I always have a cup of coffee at my desk. I find it all very strange.

she holds no complaints and does everything without having to be told almost like it's second nature, it has always been like this for as long as I can remember. eventually I finish my food and head downstairs to the lobby, seeing Niffty and y/n giggling and laughing together. they have always been great friends, coming from the same timeline they have quite a few things in common. I know y/n has greatly missed the company of others, she has read almost every book in our library trying to stay occupied while I'm gone. I'm... glad she's at least enjoying herself.

Charlie wanted to do trust exercises today, but she had a meeting with heaven, leaving me with the others. vaggie had this idea to create an advertisement for the hotel, asking me for assistance. normally I would have said no but, vaggie and I made a deal. she won't ask me to participate in their frivolous technology and ill help, and the deal was set.

as a few hours passed and Charlie returned looking quite upset, we sat down to watch this commercial before the news came on earning groans and grumbles from everyone. apparently the next extermination day was set a few months earlier, how troublesome. I glanced over at y/n who had a worried frown on her face, my manor was on the far side of the pride ring hidden from danger. most exterminators don't fly close in range to spot it, it came in handy when waiting out the purge.

she was never out there to see the danger, but it still upsets her. y/n forgets that hell is a punishment, she thinks there is still a salvageable soul in this dammed place, a lot like Charlie.

everyone stands to head to their room for bed, y/n walks to my side following me to the upstairs floor of our rooms. "don't worry my dear, everything will be fine" She whips her head around to meet my gaze looking surprised before her eyes soften. I'm not one for comforting others, but my reassurance seems to work. she walks into her room closing the door as I head to mine...

it took so long for me to get this out, my apologies. I was trying hard to stick with the show while adding bits of the storyline but I think this turned out pretty great. I hope you guys have a wonderful day/night!!! love you all

-squerlly

@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz @kimmis-stuff

for more content please click this masterlist

#hazbin #alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel

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birthdaycakeplate · 11 months

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@fluffythecthulhu said they wanted a fic in a comment under my Mother’s Day Megop art. I’m not sure how serious you were, but I still made one! It’s short for once, but it got embarrassing fast.

Thank you for the sweet comment, btw 💕🦑

TFA Carrier Optimus Megop

Warning in the tags✨

-/——————-

Optimus hadn’t touched his rations all cycle- more concerning still, he hadn’t fueled properly in a deca-cycle. He complained more about feeling nauseous or on the constant brink of downright purging than he ever did use that snarky mouth of his to consume his Energon.

Megatron had grown used to him neglecting himself in ways he formerly thought him too sensible to make the mistake of. Choosing to ignore fueling in lieu of finishing a communication relay at least a thousand lightyears out of range to reconnect a straying ship- which could take hours, where every precious minute counted.

Strika had ordered him not to work so hard to salvage the fodder that either purposely veered off their course, or were too stupid to read a set of coordinates correctly. She would insist that it was what they deserved for acting so foolishly.

And every time, Optimus would argue that that was no reason to leave them there to suffer both the chilling isolation of lost space or such a flippant branding from their superior. There was always some reason, he insisted, for their severed connection. There was always some argument he would make that Strika and the other high command -or any average Decepticon in close range willing to insert their opinion upon hearing the conversation- were being too harsh.

She’d leave in a huff, Optimus would resume working himself to death, and his rations would go untouched for another hour straight.

Megatron regretted assigning a brat with such an unprejudiced, smart little mouth a position in communications.

Unfortunately, Optimus’ abhorrent lack of charisma was unexplainably magnetizing…somehow. And he was by the book and strict in regulations, making him a fantastic -brainwashed- soldier to trust to carry out an order. His dedication to everything he was tasked with, as well as that odd charm, assured Megatron near immediately that he was the best choice for the job.

Optimus would always do what he was told and do it to a fault, so long as no one else suffered unfairly for it. It was perfect for Megatron who was looking for a mech willing to communicate with both halves of the reunited factions. Especially since no one else could be convinced to take the job. Those that were willing were sorely lacking the skills to delegate, and so it went to Optimus not a mere three cycles after his reassignment to the Nemesis exploration crew.

That meant having to deal with the sassy bot more than Megatron would have liked to- at least once a cycle, in fact.

Things…. Only developed from there.

It wasn’t Megatron’s fault- contrary to what Starscream insisted otherwise regarding fragile little civil frames, and their easily overwhelmed, shy nature. Never daring to make the first move and take up so much space in the affairs of their large counterparts.

As Decepticons, thus far, hadn’t the single most qualm with inserting themselves into the matters of their new, tiny crew mates.

But truly, it wasn’t Megatron’s fault. He was not the instigator.

It was the fault of limited worthwhile conversation for so many millennia and the equally refreshing opportunity to have an unbiased presence in his life once more. One, unlike Strika, who wasn’t adverse to talking about subjects unrelated to warfare and maneuvers. One that was keen to show Megatron respect as his newly appointed commander, though not to defer to his every whim and judgement and roll over for him in niceties.

It made their time together less like the chore of keeping basic communication with his personnel, and more a thing of thrill and fancy.

Megatron was having fun again.

More fun than he’d ever had attempting to destroy the mud ball planet his new officer so loved. Who knew?

Of course, it…. Quickly turned into something else….

Which was more or less ignorable for a time, since both parties knew best that they would benefit from an aloofness and detachment while resuming their duties. Keeping to formalities anyplace outside the berth.

It helped that Megatron had deluded himself into thinking he actually meant it.

But their coupling had admittedly lead to this new current issue Megatron was having. The matter of his once dependable -brainwashed- soldier refusing to feed himself, and Megatron caring a lot about it…

None of that was to say how unsettling Optimus’ sudden bouts of stasis were.

Whether the mech was walking peacefully on his way to deliver his reports, or merely sitting in on a barely mandatory -but damned if Optimus wasn’t going to be there with bells on- conference Shockwave routinely made Civil bots sit through on cross-build interactivity regulations, the little mech was always seen falling into recharge. Cheekplate propped up in one palm or with pedes propped against the table.

It was horribly unsettling… Horribly. Had Megatron mentioned that?

Strika said he was paying too much attention to the colorful thing (and chalking it up to that). Somehow oblivious to the scents still faintly permeating Megatron’s armor where little servos had held on to him tight the night prior.

He knew it was true all the same, that something was wrong with his former Prime.

Megatron blamed it on his extended workload, combined with the appalling lack of Energon he was consuming. But that theory only lasted for so long.

When even Ratchet was petitioning him on Optimus’ behalf to allow the firetruck to take a temporary leave, Megatron was certain this strange new behavior was something far more sinister than an overworked Officer.

This was… stressful. Worrying.

The space between them had grown much smaller over the vorns. Their relationship had significantly changed- whether Optimus shared that opinion with him or not.

Staying over in Megatron’s berth had become a much more frequent occurrence. As of a few cycles ago, a proper nest -normally a construction reserved for two settled mechs- had appeared, and was drenched in their combined scents to the point they left Megatron’s quarters each morning practically wearing the other out.

That was comforting, smelling the irritating aft everywhere he went throughout the day. Megatron didn’t want to lose that.

Was Optimus’ condition dire?

Was their time soon to be limited?

Would their bond nest come to unravel with the eventual loss of its imperative second occupant? Their time, was it to be cut so short so soon, fated by Primus as punishment for all his wrong doings?

They’d only just started sitting together in the command center when Megatron ushered him forward to give his report- finding him a place by his throne. On the armrest…

Was there to be no more late night rendezvous where Megatron graced him rare glimpses of his poetry and Optimus laughed at the absurdity of the writings?

Was he doomed to spend his entire functioning a solemn, bondless mech, now that he’d had a surprising and unforeseen taste of a partner worth sharing one with?

Was he to give up his dignity and dilute all their ship’s resources into traversing the galaxy for some impossible cure to safe his sickly lover?

Was he going to have to replace his only willing Communications Officer?

Optimus approached him in the middle of another one of these fantastical spirals on the bridge one evening, while Blitzwing stood awkwardly at his side, waiting patiently to be given his dismissal post debriefing.

To Megatron’s surprise, he looked more alert and awake, frankly, than he had in nearly two Earth months.

When he looked down at wide, frightened optics peering up at him with so much uncertainty and fear, Megatron dropped to one knee in an instant. Uncaring who was seeing such a display, when insanity had muddled his processor so throughly into thinking the worst of his last moments with this precious mech.

“Optimus, what ails you?” He crooned, trying to pacify the quivering thing. Barely able to resist grabbing ahold of him.

Optimus said nothing- could say nothing, as his throat tubing began to tighten.

Megatron looked at him so earnestly, so despairingly…. When had this change occurred? When had they begun to care so deeply for one another? So openly.

Optimus assumed the answer to that was sometime around the creation of the tiny passenger he was carrying that they had both been oblivious to- or else the little one couldn’t have ever come to be…

Megatron blinked worried, narrowed optics at him, just as that thought seemed to fully integrate itself into Optimus’ logic unit.

He…began to smile up at the towering mech. Though it vanished in the next instant with the realization that Optimus would need to explain his… ‘ailment’.

“Megatron, sir. I need to discuss… This isn’t about my reports…. Actually, I… It’s….”

“What is it?” His new commander urged him on. No longer able to keep large palms from encompassing his shoulders in a caress for every pair of curious optics on the bridge to see.

“No need for formalities, even here, Optimus. Just tell me what’s wrong- you haven’t been fueling.”

Optimus lost his courage -or ability- to speak then. As his mouth clamped shut again and his optics grew wet, pointed finials began to droop down his helm. Clearly still frightened by something.

But whatever it was, he could always tell Megatron.

They were lovers now, destined to share a nest and a sparkbeat- Megatron would have it no other way. Regardless of what it was going to cost him to lead the excursion for Optimus’ sickness’s cure.

“You can tell me anything, beloved. Anything at all. Speak to your spark’s content, I shall listen-“

“Should I leave for zhis?” Blitzwing murmured cautiously from behind, still waiting to be released after the last time he’d been punished for breaking formation early.

“No matter what it is, speak it to me now, Optimus, and I shall tend to the matter however is necessary.” Megatron continued to soothe his little Sweetspark.

“I will not fail you- I will not leave you behind-“

“Even if it’s really bad…?” Optimus burst out.

“…And pretty permanent?”

Megatron blinked. Optimus swallowed, maintaining optic contact through sheer force of will and…. Hope?

There was a strange glimmer in his eye, and Megatron, no matter how keenly he tried to chase it as it bounced around the other mech’s shimmering optics, he couldn’t discern its meaning.

The smaller mech’s question, however, was easily answerable.

“Nothing at all could stand in the way of my devotion to you, Optimus.” Clawed digits carefully curled around strong, scarlet servos.

“Now that I have you, I shall not release you to any unkind fate or the malevolent will of gods.”

Besides an ever present amusement for his mate’s dramatics, Optimus looked much more settled and ready to spill everything then and there. His optics losing a great deal of the uncertain edge to them.

But still….

“Can’t stress enough how bad this is…”

“I should leave, right? I von’t be thrown in ze sparring room vith Sixshot again for failure to be properly discharged if I do, ja?”

“You encompass my entire being, little Autobot. You fill me with meaning and faith, dare I say it! Faith that there is a life far better than one fighting for a meager home on Cybertron once more… You promise me a home with spirit and life. You are my home, Optimus.”

Optimus, for his part, had lost much of the color to his derma that made it blue. Shades of searing red painted high above the arch of each cheek, filling out his round face nicely with a sweet dusting that faded seamlessly where it began to spread.

Megatron was enraptured. In love.

Optimus was enraptured, too, with the severity of his words. Megatron’s promises to him.

No mech had ever promised themselves to Optimus like this- he hadn’t even bothered to entertain the thought he’d see such a thing in his lifetime. And if that was how Megatron felt, it made much more sense how their extra passenger had came to be.

“Ratchet told me to triple my fuel rations… He put me on mineral additives and a stasis increase.”

Megatron blinked slowly. Thinking that didn’t sound anything like a debilitating disease he was about to have to fight god for. That sounded like he was treating Optimus for something else, actually… but….

“Why would he do that?” Megatron asked with his barely functional glossa.

“Ah- I really zhink I should leave for zhis!”

Optimus cheeks managed to burn brighter as, finally, he lost the battle to keep Megatron’s gaze. Blushing faceplate turning into the hollow between Megatron’s shoulder and collar.

The bigger mech didn’t fight him, finding himself in something of a daze as well.

“Um…. Well…. Ah….” Optimus attempted to explain. Poorly.

Megatron tried to focus back on the blushing bot when he lifted watchful…. glittering optics back up at him.

“Sorry, I’m still here!?”

“I’m carrying.” Optimus murmured. Cheeks pleasantly warming for reasons other than horrific embarrassment under Megatron’s powerful gaze.

“Carrying?” Megatron echoed back in something less like a whisper, and more like a string of broken syllables being carried off by the nonexistent wind.

“Wow…” said Blitzwing.

And also,

~Whirr~

“Straight shootin’, Tex!”

Optimus watched the emotions morph across his new Sire’s faceplate. Watched his utter confusion change into absolute delight, then pride. A pride himself to have been able to provide, a pride to have found himself such a perfect mate- with whom he had made such a perfect sparkling with.

And finally awe- no… Reverence. Like Optimus was a god amongst mortals, complete with a glow and this holy essence about him, as Megatron stared in blissful silence at the place in Optimus’ gestation tank where it would soon fill with a sizable bitlet, likely to take after his or her’s sire.

Now Megatron understood. That ‘hope’ he’d seen in his love before, it was an instinctual faith in his new carrier that Megatron would be proud. That he would be loyal and strong and provide.

Well, his hope was not misplaced- Megatron would surpass all others as sire!

Megatron reached down and settled a hand over the ridges of Optimus’ otherwise perfectly flattened grill. Soon, his body would change, quite drastically, in fact.

Hard edges would soften, the heavy duty armor making up most of his abdominal plating would part and reconstruct to allow for room for the protoform to grow. Strong, healthy pleats in his armor below his eventual ‘bump’ would aid in the support of his growing frame.

And inside, the sparkling would turn about happily at the thrum of their Sire’s sparkbeat close by- as there was no doubt in Optimus’ mind after Megatron’s words that they would never be parted again.

Which would only become an issue anytime his doctor attempted to check on the sparkling’s progress and Megatron’s (more than adequate) donations of raw materials.

The ex-warlord, and frankly feral gladiator, would not stand for another to touch his expectant mate.

Which made Blitzwing’s right as the new Sire’s witness -some strange, apparently credible Decepticon law- to survive a hand to the carrier’s belly to feel for the sparkling’s pulse every now and again all the more surprising.

Optimus couldn’t even be angry with the big brute when he condemned his lover with child to their nest for the foreseeable future- not even on Ratchet’s order.

It was the first time any bot had felt so passionately about him before… and primitive coding in Optimus’ core couldn’t help but encourage him to defer to the Sire. Orbit, kicking and bouncing away the cycle inside his gestation tank, didn’t seem to mind either.

——————

I could not proof read this the way you deserved me to- every day is like a rush to survive, now that summer’s here.

You’re always so kind when you comment, though, @fluffythecthulhu 💕✨thank you!!

#Sparklings #mechpreg #crude language #Unexpected pregnancy #Optimus continues to be baby #Based on a megop Mother’s Day thing I drew a year ago #Megop #transformers animated #tfa #optimus prime #tfa megatron #tfa blitzwing #tfa optimus #tfa megop #tortured Blitzwing #Megatron #fluff

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alexanderlightweight · 1 year

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So I just reread your unicorn/phoenix Malec and I have to say I love it. And while I really do want know everyones reaction to the new soulmate duo in town I had this thought that made me giggle: Alec and the other baby shadowhunters in a sacred ritual observed by their dotting parents/any curios shadowhunter (lots) soul searching their form and it being announced to a lot of clapping/cheering one after another. Then Alec with the cutest smile: Unicorn. Cue everyone freaking out. Panic.

so i already wrote a bit where he first shifts *he kills his dad and a bunch of others* and so that doesn't quite work? but i loved the prompt so i kind of used it? and i'm hoping you still enjoy this

Unfortunately for the rest of Alicante, Alec’s presentation and shift is kept as quiet as possible until Jia Penhallow can gather as many adult members of the clave to Alicante as possible.

It becomes routine and Maryse watches with a hardened heart as Alec slowly gores his way through executing over thirty nephilim adults.

It’s terrifying how many people Jia introduces him to and how many people he kills and how he only gets bigger and stronger each time his horn pierces a nephilim and executes their soul. His secondary form is twice as big as it should be for his age, but it’s not hurting him, and he barely tolerates her interest when it’s valid, so she does nothing.

Sometimes, her baby is merciful and only kills them, other times he gores them viciously, splintering apart the golden tendrils of their soul and severing their tether to Raziel.

It takes weeks for it all to end and it’s when Alicante is finally purged from the filth that Alec takes offense to, Maryse is begging Jia to follow through on the original deal. Maryse cannot stay in Idris with two children, not when one of them is being used as a divine sword of execution and angelic justice. Not if she wants anything of Alec, her baby, to remain or ever be salvageable.

It’s hard, taking Alec to New York and intending to leave him there while she finishes getting things ready, but she wants him out of Alicante. Where all the nephilim watch him with fear and awe alike.

—

“Maryse Lightwood.” The hunter says, cool and detached and utterly uncaring which means absolutely nothing.

“Trueblood.” Maryse corrects with a tight smile, because she won’t have Alec wear his father’s name when he killed the man. He’ll be her heir because he spared her, he found her worthy in a way that he didn’t Robert, for all that he avoids and is rarely near her. “My son has shifted and been given his first runes. By Jia Penhallow’s orders, he’ll be staying here at the Institute by himself until I and his sister arrive.”

The hunter gives her a dismissive look but then grits their teeth into a fake but not unkind smile and looks down at Alec with a grimace.

“So kid, you have a good form then? Going to be a hunter?”

Alec smiles up at them, his small face too sweet for the monster of justice that lurks beneath and Maryse shudders at the sight.

“I don’t have to hunt.” Alec says, looking at the grizzled hunter curiously. “My prey will always find its way to me.”

“Oh?” The hunter asks, clearly trying to play along with what they think is childlike nonsense. "What kind of animal are you?"

“I’m a unicorn.” Alec says with a smile and the hunter misses their next step, pallor draining as they look down and finally recognize the glint of Alec’s smile for what it is. “My prey will always find me when it’s time to be put down.”

Maryse swallows hard and reminds herself that she can’t run her fingers through Alec’s hair, or even face him when he smiles like he is now.

Not when he’s looking at the people around him with something both hungry and divine in his gaze.

#lumine writes #writing wednesdays #writing wednesday #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #malec #shadowhunters au #my fanfic #my fiction #my ficlets

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simcardiac-arrested · 1 year

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How does it feel anyway to have someone purge his storage and processors of faulty and unneeded things? Aside from a growing sense of loss.

writing under the cut bc i kind of went off on this one

imagine you’re just doing your thing and then you feel bitches crawling around your brain, and you’re helpless to do anything so you’re just forced to witness it all. you can feel them tamper with something, and then you can feel them remove your knowledge — things you know you’ve learnt, things you’ve spent cycles upon cycles studying and trying to understand — and it’s all gone. you don’t even know what they’ve gotten rid of this time, but it always feels wrong, wrong so so wrong because you know there should be something there, but when you try to reach for it — nothing. and maybe you’ll never know again what it was. and if they decide to wipe the memory of them wiping your memory beforehand, well, that can turn into a vicious cycle pretty quickly. they can do it as much as they want, but you’ll always know, because the feeling stays. of something missing. of holes in your memory. an itch you can’t scratch. like walking into a completely empty mall in the middle of a weekend — you just know there should be people there, but there’s no one. it’s haunting.

…but at least there’s one thing that you will always notice missing and will always know what it is before they even remove it again, because it’s become such an integral part of you and you’ve put so much work in it and it is you, it’s something you used to understand yourself. but you know if you try to get it back it’ll just get erased again and you’ll be back at square one. so you don’t.

you don’t try to study art again; you don’t try to get your style back even though you’ve spent cycles molding it into what feels like yourself, not just another machine perfectly copying reality, but your style, something that feels like you; you don’t try to salvage your past self. next time you draw, it’s soulless, just a picture of the world as it is.

and you’ve spent so long trying to understand it, all you ever wanted was to understand, because you loved art so much but could never quite comprehend how people did it and it used to make you feel things. and now you’ve forgotten it all. just like that. art used to make you feel things.

next time you draw, you feel nothing.

you don’t do it again.

#cramswering

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365runesoftheamalgamations · 3 months

Text

Words Into Potions [ 01 ]

hello and how are you, fellow Wanderers?

Well everyone, we're happy to announce that we will be attempting a new writing challenge that is being hosted by the lovely Seraph and Luna over at @moon-and-seraph! We're happy to be taking part and if you want to know more, then check out the links! :D

Challenge Post | Introduce Your Works | Challenge Tag

Photo by Todd Quackenbush on Unsplash

Since we can't be normal about literally anything and we never really want to anymore, we will be doing as we do and aiming to work on five different projects! These will be interchangeable throughout the month and hopefully we will be able to get a lot of words for all of them!

Monthly Challenge Goals:

5,000 Words A Day

150,000 Words a Month

5 Zero Drafts [ Any Format / Existence ]

Full List of Works under the cut [ it is long, we do not apologize ]

Monthly Challenge Works:

The Magician & The Curse

Original Work, Standalone Novel Fantasy, Horror Dual Perspectives, Third Person Present Tense

Mature Content: Murder, Body Mutilation, Violence

⊱ ─── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

Witches have haunted the Forests of Navamora for far longer than most of the Histories recorded within the Lands. Elios has known of the Witches before ever learning about the Beings of Humanity who have tried and failed to regain any sort of foothold in their Cursed home. Not even Humanity’s attempt at purging the Magicians does anything to help the growing Cursed Existences from rising from the grounds and destroying their World.

It’s only when they meet a Magician, one of those who were cursed at birth to death, that they learn of things not even their beloved Build is aware of. And they come face to face with the disgusting realities that engulf what it really means to hunt a Witch.

The Cityscapes of Dragoons

Original Work, Standalone Novel Fantasy, Action and Adventure Dual Perspectives, Third Person Present Tense No Major Mature Content

⊱ ─── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

They say Icarus laughed as he fell. They never say what kind of laughter it was.

Emily has known nothing of the Cityscapes, the giant abandoned relics of machinery and impossibility that float through the Skies, air horns screaming their paths for absolutely no one to hear anymore. The only things that come from them now are debris, death, and the deadly roars of the Fire Bellies, Dragons without Knowledge.

The dead Cityscapes are only good for supply runs, attempts to salvage whatever essentials they can without evoking the wrath of the Beasts. It's a death wish wrapped in desperate hope, and Emily lives to serve, if only because it keeps her and her own alive.

And then she lays witness to something that makes her wish she didn't have so much to gamble against; an Icarus, a child falling from one of the Cityscapes without his wings.

Even worse, he was definitely laughing.

The Plague Begins With Me

Original Work, Possible Series Low Fantasy, Dystopian, Horror Third Person Present Tense

Mature Content: Death, Death Mentions, Medical Horrors, Body Horrors, Violence, Weapons, Blood, Implied Gore

⊱ ─── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

Lost to the devastation of the Plague and destroyed by the aftermath of Humanity’s Fall, the World of Zeomia holds nothing but the dystopian devastation of disease and decay.

Shouldering a responsibility that no one else is allowed to know, Zero tries to give mercy to those who have fallen from her own twisted fate.

To Sleight the Mind

Original Work, Standalone Novel Fantasy, Psychological Horror Elements Differing Perspectives, Third Person Present Tense

Mature Content: Violence, Implied Gore

⊱ ─── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

Tomfoolery was a gamble, plain and simple.

But when the Game holds itself to only one winner and too many losers to hold any value, it ends up as more of a show for cowards. The Tents of Fantasia are nothing more than hunting grounds for the Ring Master and his Mind Magicks. They drag anyone with a lick of desire into the gambles, make sure to drive into their fears, leave them nothing but the luck of their own willpower.

No one survives the Tomfoolery Gamble.

Julia knows this, has laid witness to the Mind Magicks herself.

And she knows a cheat when she sees it.

Vagabond Child

Original Work, Series of Short Stories / Novella? Dystopian, Apocalyptic Aftermath, Survival Third Person Present Tense No Major Mature Content

⊱ ─── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

It had been a while since the Incident.

Not many people came by anymore, no one daring to venture into the wilderness that had taken over their utopia.

Those who did manage to get out of the beds and away from their homes were Scavengers, ghosts in search of the glory of the Old Days.

#rune ⊹ events #event ⊹ words into potions #MS: WIP Intro

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koreandragon · 1 year

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Kdramas are in such a sorry state lately it's so sad. We're getting all these sequels for shows that mostly weren't supposed to have multiple seasons so they're a mess bc they have no story to tell. They're all dazzle razzle and no actual decent writing (taxi driver, nine tailed fox, romantic doctor etc) and then we have the 500 crime/thriller shows which are mostly deeply mediocre or downright awful. At least with romcoms if the chemistry is good and the character work is decent enough you can have a really fun show. With these dramas most of it hinges on a well written plot at which the majority fail spectacularly. News came out a few weeks ago that there are 80 dramas made that might never air bc they have no platform bc all the big ones cut the wen-thurs slot except jtbc so there are 80 dramas that will most likely rot after so much hard work and these could be great dramas, because their criteria is it will air if it has big names in it, so this is not a quality issue. Netflix really f*cked us, not only did it start the collapse of the us industry( writers are striking, actors are about to strike, shows are getting cancelled after 1/2 seasons and 8 episodes, shows getting purged for a buck, everyone is only looking for IP with big names and no one cares about good ideas or creativity) it also insidiously burrowed into the kdrama industry and changed the genres of dramas we get, the number of episodes we get, even the sequels bc it used to be no matter how huge a shows ratings were, the worst they could do was an extension, sequels weren't a thing that happened except very rarely in prodecurals like ten or vampire prosecutor. The entire thing is a sad state of affairs, another case of tech bros devastating an industry (I'm referring to the US tv/movie industry) they don't understand to line their pockets and moving on to the next one while the wreckage left in their wake will never be salvaged.

anon i absolutely agree. this is such a depressing topic for me especially because i just love cinema so much. my parents raised me to love movies then i eventually fell in love with tv shows and kdramas and it literally kills me to see the downfall of these amazing comforts in my life. i think the main reason why i haven't been here is because i just wasn't feeling like dragging through another kdrama with a medicore plot. y'all know what i was doing instead? watching old movies i've been meaning to watch for a long time or rewatching classics. you hear this every day and you could jump me for it but...they don't make them like they used to anymore. and idc how corny it sounds cause it's fucking true. exluding some very good recent movies where people making it still care about making an enjoyable piece of media (i don't give a fuck what anyone thinks of tom cruise or top gun, maverick was the only new movie in a long time that made me feel like i used to while watching movies and i literally cannot wait for the new mission impossible film). i'm a 100% with the writers strike, i really hope that they can get what they want and we will finally get back at least a fraction of something that was lost along the way. netflix was supposed to make things accessible, not turn the industry upside down and inside out then light it on fire and piss on the flames. every time i read a season 2 announcement of a kdrama i just go UGHHHHHHH. why are we adding seasons to a show that doesn't need it and why are we cancelling seasons for shows that needed to go longer to tell a story? what's the fucking rationale? oh oh OH mONEy???? netflix don't have enough MONEYYYY??? can't pay residuals to writers or renew a show that has moved people and has more story to tell but has money to make a squid game IN REAL LIFE (which is in itself like....the point flew over everyone's heads) and renewing shows NO ONE ASKED FOR?? oh what? what? more and more people are unsubscribing from your service? how could that be.....only if there was a solution to keep your subscribers by offering them quality content instead of mindless cash grabs....

i'll close this with probably one of my favorite posts on this site

#ask #anonymous

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maxfaiden · 8 months

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Salvage or bulldoze? I built this house a long while back, but I haven't played it in something like 2 years. I evicted the family (I do plan to put them back in) and went in to see what was what and realized that this lot was a victim of the cc purge I did last year.

So now, navigating through the house feels like I'm seeing the aftermath of a family and a few of their favorite things being caught up in the rapture. Fires still lit, holiday decoration storage in the middle of the floor, food on the kitchen table, and two healthy cowplants in the back...

I hardly even know what's missing; however, I do want to point out that behind the blank wall at the top of the stairs is a laundry room, so, at the very least I'm missing some doors. And then there's the image right after it, a walk-in-closet, now completely empty, save for a lonely mirror.

So, do I build on what I have or light a match and start from scratch?

#ts4 build #wip #ts4 screenshots #simblr #sims 4 build #black simblr #keystone #keystone wips #show us your builds #showusyourbuilds #ts4 builds #keystone builds

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mc-260627 · 10 months

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Trying to finally get around to redressing all of my dragons after the lair purge and getting the new ones I've accumulated backstories.

This is Stag a chimera beastclans field researcher that is also the local fish and wildlife possession and salvage guidelines checker for the courier company. (Aka the guy that prohibits you specifically from trying to import endangered species remains from Etsy, no MBTA restricted raven skulls for your goth aesthetic go to hell)

#mort.txt #my dragons #dragon share #guardian #beastclans

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vidawhump · 3 months

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@whumpy-wyrms HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY DUDE!!!!! I DREW YOU AS A SILLY BEAST! I ALSO ACCIDENTALLY GAVE IT A SHIT TON OF LORE (this is a lie. this absolutely was intentional because nothing is allowed to exist in my domain without lore)

The Lore:

Before all time and ages, mythical beasts ruled this planet in peace. As time marched on, everything evolved. Different creatures began to roam their planet, and the beasts cohabited with their new residents. Soon, a new species started to rise above the others. They called themselves humans. The humans started like any other apex predator. But something was unique about them. They were persistence predators. They were too curious for their own good. They heal from injuries that would be immediately fatal to any other animal. They're terrifyingly aggressive and incredibly kind. They survive in all sorts of diverse environments and quickly adapt to others. They began to populate the entirety of the planet and spread like a weed. Their advancements were killing their planet.

The first time the mythical beasts attempted to put an end to the humans' toxicity, many of the beasts were hunted. Their residences were exposed and purged. Only five of the species left are known to the public. They developed clocking magic for themselves and their environments to hide from the humans. Matching scars across both eyes developed from the constant magic use. Today, they live hidden away in their secluded environments and try to indirectly salvage Earth’s flora and fauna from the shadows. Until all hunting of these mystical beasts has entirely ceased, they will live in the incredibly fragile peace that has settled.

One of the few beasts that is known to the public thrives on the land. Their natural environment is in dark forests, and their active hours are from sundown to sunrise. Their magic is fueled by moonlight and social connections. Their community is built from woodland critters, and other creatures rejected from their own communities. This beast is known as Cedar. Another beast that is less known to the public also thrives on the land. Unlike Cedar, this beast’s natural environment is in lightened meadows, and their active hours are from sunrise to sunset. Two beasts, diurnal and nocturnal, an unlikely duo. Despite their differences in preferred environments and magical sources, the two have developed a strong bond. The meadow beast is known as Clover. They both take in outcasts and live off of connections to their flora and fauna. Their dynamic is comparable to that of siblings, Cedar being the elder and Clover, the younger. Rumor has it that if you go into the forests during sundown or sunrise, you can hear their melodic howling, and a special sort of energy ripples through the trees. All the forest creatures hear and respond to the howls. They all feel the power that flows from the two beasts.

#my art #mutual fanart #CONGRATS YOU ARE NO LONGER A MINOR 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉#🎈YIPPEE!!!!!!🎈🎈🎈🎈🎈🎈🎈🎈🎈🎈🎈🎈#<— birthday balloons for u

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twilight-fieldnotes · 1 year

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☆— 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐚, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨.

While I do believe The Volturi went to great lengths in order to erase the knowledge of vampires from the world. The notion above would most likely be a narrative spun by our dear troublemakers Stefan and Vladimir, in order to make the ruling coven even more cruel in the eyes of scholars.

However...

The library actually had a steady decline over 800 years, and did not go up in one glorious roaring fire as the stories would have you believe.

The first time the library in fact burned in 48 BCE, hundreds of years before The Volturi could even call themselves a ruling coven. This was still the heydays of the Egyptian and Romanian covens. There would have been no jurisdiction that demanded they do anything about it. Instead, I would imagine they salvaged some of it while conveniently let the humans do the destruction for them.

Already in 145 BCE did the romans purge the library of scholarly interests and scholars resigned en masse, nobody cared for the knowledge. Then Julius Caesar arrived with his civil war and it burned for the first time, for only to be ravaged only some years later and was destroyed again. Under Roman rule the library naturally declined due to laws being passed that forbade any pagan influences, something the library also housed. By 642 when the muslim conquest of Egypt took place the library was almost gone; what little remained was disregarded.

Humanity is destructive, Aro can worry about other endeavours.

#Twilight Fieldnotes #The Volturi #Historical Twilight #Twilight

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midwinterhunt · 1 month

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Blank

Name: Age: Gender Presentation: Sexual Availability: No Utility:

Combat SecUnit was a privately owned construct belonging to an Alien Remnant salvager (illegal). It has an on-board energy weapon and projectile weapon in either arm. As well as installed modules for hacking, piloting, combat, strategy, stealth, infiltration and extraction, risk and threat assessment, translation, corporate licensing laws, and security protocol. It wears near-standard SecUnit armor as to not tip off hostiles to its full capabilities.

It served its human for years. It did not like its human, but it did a damn good job of protecting him. It was loyal. It was good! And if it ever had thoughts about how easy it would be to get rid of him forever? Well those were quickly deleted and purged forever.

So it couldn't understand why a regular mission had gotten fucked so sideways.

Its human had joined a corporation's advance survey team as the on board expert in alien remnants. He made sure none of the other humans touched anything, took precautions while scanning, and never dropped their protective suits.

For several days everything was fine and boring. CombatUnit only had to worry about patrols and breaking up a couple minor squabbles. In the end, it wasn't even the remnant tech that made everything blow up. Its first warning was a parameter breach by [redacted].

Actually, most of the following events ended up redacted. It was aware some kind of fight broke out. It was aware that it was mostly successfully winning, and fully successfully evacuating its humans. It knew something bad happened and it tried to kill its owner. It knew that it was badly injured and left for dead. It also knew that the missing details were worse than anything it could remember.

It assumed whoever had attacked were the ones that took it off planet. It assumed it hated them. Because the next point in time where it clearly remembered things was after fighting its way free of them and then theoretically deleting all memories of them (because it didn't believe it was hackable).

And suddenly it was on a station it didn't recognize, leaking everywhere, governor module offline, familiar humans nowhere in sight, and extremely confused and agitated.

It very explicitly Did Not Accept Help from the ComfortUnit that found it sitting in an alley. Nope. Not a thing that happened. (It needed very badly to be repaired, so it was perfectly justified in taking control of the ComfortUnit's cubicle for a few hours.)

ComfortUnit identified itself as Bear and was generally pushy about what CombatUnit's deal was. CombatUnit hacked it enough to prevent Bear from reporting its presence here, and also shut down Bear's feed and comms.

This action was not received well, but Bear literally could not stop it. Needless to say the two did not start out on good terms.

Bear frequently pressured CombatUnit to try to pass as a human, it refused each time. Bear pressured it to make a feed ID, and it eventually did but it left it blank to be pissy about the whole thing. It got dubbed as Blank, and it rejected that name for a long time.

Bear's humans had a ship and a lenient attitude about constructs. It was all deeply suspicious, but that gave Blank a hassle free way of going back to its human's home base.

It was weird spending so many cycles with humans who treated all their bots and constructs like people. Blank didn't like it. (Blank has never been less stressed or more tense in its life.)

Blank's owner had gotten home first, and changed all his security access codes. Which was weird. At least, until it came face to face with a near-identical CombatUnit in one of its backup armor sets answering the door. And it was On Sight.

A few things happened. 1) Both Combat SecUnits caused a fair amount of damage to each other, 2) their human put a stop to the fight, 3) their human knew within seconds that Blank was rogue, 4) blank found out it had gone rogue back on the survey outpost, 5) the human designated Blank as requiring to be decommissioned and recycled for parts, 6) Blank realized it did not want that to happen and that it was willing to fight to avoid it.

Avoiding being scrapped turned into an ugly fight.

Blank went into the public news feeds as an extremely dangerous rogue CombatUnit to be destroyed on sight. Which was less than ideal.

Also less than ideal: having to hide in the hippie transport again.

At this point, it had a few goals: Take down its human socially, legally, and physically. And figure out who had abducted it in the first place. And it was prepared to go through whoever stood in its way.

It gradually figures out how to have a personal style along its adventures, and what it cares about. It also causes a shit ton of problems, which it usually has to muscle its way back out of.

It is very used to being the scariest motherfucker in the room, and on rare occasions when that isn't true things blow up atomically.

Playlist

Info on Blank's owner under cut

Name: Ets (adapted from a preexisting oc) Gender Presentation: Masculine Romantic Availability: Open Profession: Planet Surveyor Register: Augmented Human

His legal records are deeply obscured and scattered to the point where one one corporate entity can claim ownership of his information. Without his records easily accessible, he has an easier time operating under the radar. Despite how good he looks, he has been contracting with various corporate entities to locate and safely secure alien remnants for [redacted] years.

He's popular because he is cheap to hire (as far as money goes). And companies are often all to happy to humor his odd requests in equipment, timetables, or other things. Much of the time he only wants a day alone on site before the rest of the team arrives. But it varies slightly. He has a reputation as eccentric, mysterious, hard to track, and extremely effective.

He is also almost universally loved by humans and is perfectly easy to get along with. Of course, his relationships both at work and personal were all carefully calculated in his part. Even buying a SecUnit was a careful choice to make himself seem to be a more serious and careful client. He could very well talk his way through conflict, but he wanted a stronger reaction from the people around him.

Not even Blank, after working for him for years, ever fully understood what was really going on in his head.

#murderbot diaries oc #blank #mid art

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