Latest Posts by ann-whispers - Page 3

Learning to Love (Part 3 of Prompt #191)

I certianly can! @mrcentipede and @chaoticgoodandi

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The most terrifying thing about all of this was how clear their mind was. Whatever drugs [Villain] was dosing them with rendered their body completely limp and unresponsive, but their mind was as clear as day.

They desperately tried to struggle as [Villain] held them close and stroked a hand lovingly through their hair. They tried to fight back as [Villain] fed them. They tried to cry out as [Villain] gave them another syringe full of that infernal drug.

“I know you don’t like it,” [Villain] hummed as they cuddled close to the unresponsive [Hero] in their arms, “But this is all necessary for now.”

“Why?” [Hero] thought, “What could this possibly achieve?” they screamed in their mind.

“Right now, you don’t understand what’s good for you. Your mind is confused and fighting back against me.” They slowly caressed [Hero]’s spine, “But eventually you’ll learn to be safe and happy in my arms, my love.”

[Hero] wanted to scream, but all they could muster was to swallow as [Villain] pressed a tender kiss against their forehead.

"Honey?" [Villain] leaned on the window frame.

"Go away." [Hero] grumbled. "I 'cheated' on you. Remember?"

"No, that was [Civilian]'s heart you squashed." [Villain] snorted, caressing the poor hero's face. "When I wear this costume, I'm your secret criminal lover. The one you made out with in the parking lot."

"Shut up!"

"They're never going to let you out of this cell, knowing who you are." [Villain] pouted. "It's nearly impossible for anyone to look at you the same way again."

"I wish you could've just broke up with me instead of resorting to such low tactics." [Hero] mumbled. "It's not working, I'm not coming to join you so easily."

"Pumpkin, you're going to end up being a villain either way." Their lover laughed. "Whether you come crying back into my arms or not, I'm going to love seeing you turn into a monster."

Prompt #24

"Sweetheart," Villain cooed with a sympathetic smile. "It's okay."

They pulled the limp hero onto their lap, brushing hair out of their eyes and scrubbing dirt off Hero's cheeks lightly with the pad of their thumb.

"It's not your fault that Organization failed to tell you you were their peace offering."

Villain's smile turned from soft sympathy to wicked amusement. "I have the funnest things planned for you."

Rebirth

Here it is guys! The 3000+ word story for the 1k follower celebration! Altough I got a bit carried away so this wound up being 5500+ words instead of 3k+ nearly twice as long! I hope you all enjoy and thank you once more for 1000 followers!

This contains some adult themes and creepy super villains, also a major character death and some swearing. Do be advised and please enjoy!

Contiuation

[Hero] couldn’t tell when they woke up or even if they were truly awake. Everything was dark, and their head felt too full and completely empty at the same time. Like a whirlpool was swirling around their brain, leaving anything the liquid touched utterly numb. The only two things they could feel were a cool hard metal against the back of their body and several warm, soft appendages, fingers their brain supplied, massaging their temples.

It felt good, great even, the comforting pressure grounding them in a world where everything was too close and so far. [Hero] wanted to lean into the touch, to hum in appreciation, to do something to make sure that sensation continued. But they couldn’t, their entire body was weighed down by some invisible force, and their limbs wouldn’t respond at all. So all they could do was lay there, in the dark, imprisoned by their own body as the foreign fingers comforted them.

[Hero] wasn’t sure if they had fallen asleep or for how long, but the world slowly faded into being. Their pitch-black world began illuminating with light. The numbness fading as they felt stale air around them, the leather straps holding down their body, and the ever-present fingers gently scratching their scalp, gliding through their hair as the stranger hummed above them.

“You’re awake.” The stranger spoke, a warm smile evident in their voice as [Hero] blinked their eyes open, bright lights shining down upon them. They struggled to tilt their head, their body still weak, to look at the stranger. Their face was upside down as they sat behind [Hero]’s head, next to whatever table they were strapped to. The stranger smiled down at them warmly, pride gleaming in their eyes as they continued to run their fingers through [Hero]’s hair.

[Hero] opened their mouth to speak, but their tongue felt foreign to them, they tried to say something, but they couldn’t figure out how to form the syllables, only able to groan tiredly in response.

“I’m sure you have so many questions.” the stranger continued, “Don’t worry, I’ll answer everything you need to know.”

“Your name is [Hero], and I am [Super Villain], although you can simply think of me as your parent as I have gifted you with rebirth.” [Super Villain] gently smiled down at them.

Rebirth? [Hero] thought to themselves, What does that mean?

Keep reading

Hey there! Do you mind writing a snippet about a captured hero in a I-have-you-now-my-pretty situation by a dominating seductive villain? And can you make it very dark please? Thank you so much and I absolutely love your writing!

"There now, isn't this much better?" the villain murmured, stroking their fingers through the hero's damp hair. "You're so pretty beneath all the grime and the blood."

"I prefer the grime and the blood."

"I might also prefer you nice and quiet. Consider that."

"Oh," the hero's eyes darkened, "no doubt. What's more attractive than your prey being forced docile, unable to fight back?"

The villain raised a brow, in the reflection of the mirror. "You. Trying to fight me. Failing."

The hero felt bile claw up their throat at that. They resisted the urge to swallow, to tense; it wouldn't do them any good, and it would probably only serve to delight the creep.

The villain seemed to catch it anyway, because they smiled.

"I do like your spirit," the villain mused. They continued to stroke through the hero's hair, carefully and diligently untangling every knots and snarl. "You're beautiful when you're angry. Defiant. You get this fiery, helpless look in your eyes. The blush is also very becoming. So, you see...it wouldn't be half as fun if you didn't try to fight back."

The hero studied them, trying to decide if that was reverse psychology. They might have preferred it if it was reverse psychology.

The villain laughed, softly, at whatever expression they saw on the hero's face.

The hero jerked their head away. It felt good for all of three seconds before the villain reeled them back in with a much harder yank, making the hero's breath catch. They pulled the hero's head back against the chair, baring their throat.

Perhaps as punishment for moving, or perhaps simply because they could, the villain leaned down over their shoulder to press a kiss to the hero's throat. It looked positively vampiric in the glass. The hero half expected teeth. They hated that they shivered. They hated that they couldn't look away, in the spirit of car crashes, natural disasters and other terrible fascinating things.

The villain's smile edged a fraction sharper, a fraction smugger. They held the hero's eyes as they trailed more kisses along the hero's neck, across their racing pulse, until the hero was taut.

"Go on," the villain whispered. "Tell me not to touch you again. Dealer's choice on if you try a threat, command or plea."

"I think I might prefer me nice and quiet."

"Mm." The villain straightened. They turned their attention to the hero's appearance again, considering. "I knew you liked me too."

"That's not - I don't -"

The villain's smile turned positively wolfish.

The hero snarled; too frustrated for words, too...well. Too many things. Frustrated was the best pick. Better than fear, sinking and entirely too helpless.

The annoying thing was that it did feel better to be clean, with their wounds tended. It simply didn't feel better to have had the villain force them into a bath and out of their own clothes. It was like having their identity, their resistance, scrubbed away alongside the dirt. Dressed in the villain's clothes, with the villain's scent clinging to their skin, it was impossible to forget where they were for even a moment.

It was impossible to forget who the villain thought they belonged to.

There were times when the villain could be charming, seductive. When they first met the hero had even been flattered. The problem was that, after the seduction and shiny polish of it all had worn off, it was perfectly obvious that the villain didn't actually care if the hero was seduced or not. It was a preference - not a requirement. The villain would do as they pleased regardless.

Hopefully, the hero's friends would get there soon.

(They had to get there soon, right?)

"So pretty," the villain murmured once more. "And all mine. Let's go show you off, shall we?"

"I'm not yours." The hero had to say it. Even when they knew it was a trap, even when their voice came out hoarse, they had to say.

The villain laughed again, and swivelled the chair around so that they were facing each other. They smoothed their hands down the hero's trembling thighs. Then, their expression turned cold, as absolute as an old black-and-white fairytale, as unstoppable a death. They leaned in.

"Oh, darling. By the time I'm done with you tonight, you will be."

Hey there! Do you mind writing a snippet about a captured hero in a I-have-you-now-my-pretty situation by a dominating seductive villain? And can you make it very dark please? Thank you so much and I absolutely love your writing!

"There now, isn't this much better?" the villain murmured, stroking their fingers through the hero's damp hair. "You're so pretty beneath all the grime and the blood."

"I prefer the grime and the blood."

"I might also prefer you nice and quiet. Consider that."

"Oh," the hero's eyes darkened, "no doubt. What's more attractive than your prey being forced docile, unable to fight back?"

The villain raised a brow, in the reflection of the mirror. "You. Trying to fight me. Failing."

The hero felt bile claw up their throat at that. They resisted the urge to swallow, to tense; it wouldn't do them any good, and it would probably only serve to delight the creep.

The villain seemed to catch it anyway, because they smiled.

"I do like your spirit," the villain mused. They continued to stroke through the hero's hair, carefully and diligently untangling every knots and snarl. "You're beautiful when you're angry. Defiant. You get this fiery, helpless look in your eyes. The blush is also very becoming. So, you see...it wouldn't be half as fun if you didn't try to fight back."

The hero studied them, trying to decide if that was reverse psychology. They might have preferred it if it was reverse psychology.

The villain laughed, softly, at whatever expression they saw on the hero's face.

The hero jerked their head away. It felt good for all of three seconds before the villain reeled them back in with a much harder yank, making the hero's breath catch. They pulled the hero's head back against the chair, baring their throat.

Perhaps as punishment for moving, or perhaps simply because they could, the villain leaned down over their shoulder to press a kiss to the hero's throat. It looked positively vampiric in the glass. The hero half expected teeth. They hated that they shivered. They hated that they couldn't look away, in the spirit of car crashes, natural disasters and other terrible fascinating things.

The villain's smile edged a fraction sharper, a fraction smugger. They held the hero's eyes as they trailed more kisses along the hero's neck, across their racing pulse, until the hero was taut.

"Go on," the villain whispered. "Tell me not to touch you again. Dealer's choice on if you try a threat, command or plea."

"I think I might prefer me nice and quiet."

"Mm." The villain straightened. They turned their attention to the hero's appearance again, considering. "I knew you liked me too."

"That's not - I don't -"

The villain's smile turned positively wolfish.

The hero snarled; too frustrated for words, too...well. Too many things. Frustrated was the best pick. Better than fear, sinking and entirely too helpless.

The annoying thing was that it did feel better to be clean, with their wounds tended. It simply didn't feel better to have had the villain force them into a bath and out of their own clothes. It was like having their identity, their resistance, scrubbed away alongside the dirt. Dressed in the villain's clothes, with the villain's scent clinging to their skin, it was impossible to forget where they were for even a moment.

It was impossible to forget who the villain thought they belonged to.

There were times when the villain could be charming, seductive. When they first met the hero had even been flattered. The problem was that, after the seduction and shiny polish of it all had worn off, it was perfectly obvious that the villain didn't actually care if the hero was seduced or not. It was a preference - not a requirement. The villain would do as they pleased regardless.

Hopefully, the hero's friends would get there soon.

(They had to get there soon, right?)

"So pretty," the villain murmured once more. "And all mine. Let's go show you off, shall we?"

"I'm not yours." The hero had to say it. Even when they knew it was a trap, even when their voice came out hoarse, they had to say.

The villain laughed again, and swivelled the chair around so that they were facing each other. They smoothed their hands down the hero's trembling thighs. Then, their expression turned cold, as absolute as an old black-and-white fairytale, as unstoppable a death. They leaned in.

"Oh, darling. By the time I'm done with you tonight, you will be."

Prompt 138

The dripping water from the leaky cell roof was the only way of telling time. By Hero’s estimate, three to four weeks had passed. Blindfolded and bound in the dark, Hero yearned for the sound of someone’s voice, or even a gentle touch. They missed their home. Bed. Lover. In hindsight, the break-up should never have happened. On again, off again… why had it taken Villain capturing them to realize how they belonged together? Their life was always better with Lover.

Villain watched through cameras from two floors above, taking special note of Hero’s hiccups and silent sobs. Now was as good a time as any. They rushed downstairs. Showtime.

“Hero!” they gasped, flinging open the door. “I can’t believe I finally found you.”

Hero resisted the urge to thrash at the familiar voice. They had to be hallucinating. Isolation had finally gotten to them. Unless… “Lover?”

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll get you out.” Villain ripped at the ropes, careful to only use a civilian’s level of strength.

Sobs tore from Hero’s throat. “Lover, I was so scared. Villain captured me right after we broke up and they left me here alone-” they threw their arms around their rescuer’s neck. Lover had come for them- even when there was no reason to. “I’m sorry. For everything.” Hero gasped, clutching at their lifeline. “I love you.”

Perfect. Villain smiled “I know.” they murmured, stroking the top of Hero’s head.

From the way Hero was talking, Villain didn’t think it would be a battle to get them to move back in. They belonged together. And if Hero forgot again… This punishment had been effective. Very effective.

Effective enough to try again.

"Honey?" [Villain] leaned on the window frame.

"Go away." [Hero] grumbled. "I 'cheated' on you. Remember?"

"No, that was [Civilian]'s heart you squashed." [Villain] snorted, caressing the poor hero's face. "When I wear this costume, I'm your secret criminal lover. The one you made out with in the parking lot."

"Shut up!"

"They're never going to let you out of this cell, knowing who you are." [Villain] pouted. "It's nearly impossible for anyone to look at you the same way again."

"I wish you could've just broke up with me instead of resorting to such low tactics." [Hero] mumbled. "It's not working, I'm not coming to join you so easily."

"Pumpkin, you're going to end up being a villain either way." Their lover laughed. "Whether you come crying back into my arms or not, I'm going to love seeing you turn into a monster."

The ropes were incredibly thick, bounding the hero tightly to the chair. They tried to wiggle their way out but the ropes only dug deeper into their flesh. Shoot shoot shoot.

[Hero] gazed at their friends who banged against the container desperately, cursing at the criminal as they stalked towards the hero.

"You've got two choices, dear hero." [Villain] murmured as they held a controller with two buttons in front of their face. "Incinerate the rest of the city or incinerate your friends."

"Screw you." [Hero] spat in [Villain]'s face. Their lover simply laughed as they wiped off the spit. If the hero knew who the love of their life really was, they would've never said yes.

"If you don't make a choice, I'll just press them both. And remember either option, you choose..." [Villain] pressed their lips onto their captive's cheek, grazing a finger over the ring on [Hero]'s villain. "You're stuck with me."

Agricultural Horror

Immortal being who was buried alive finally crawls out of the ground during harvest season and scares the crap out of some poor farmer

The ground quakes and shrieks when a plant is pulled out of it, like its fingernail has been ripped out

Sentient tractors that wander around at night and kill people What is this? Cars? Night at the Museum? Killdozer?

The old gardener has suffered many decades of hard seasons and loss of crops, due to the weather, birds, and squirrels, and this year is no different… except for the corn crop, which remains unnaturally pristine all the way through until harvest. Once the gardener finally husks one, they find out why.

Swimming monster in a rice paddy picking off workers one-by-one

Innocent gardener trapped in their own greenhouse on a hot day and left to die

The Earth is sentient and pissed off at humans always hurting it; so it decides to make itself completely uninhabitable

That’s not a normal scarecrow; that’s a man dressed in burlap and he’s watching us! Captain Clegg, anyone?

A prehensile pumpkin plant captures a human to carve into a jack-o-lantern so they know how it feels

Zucchini just keeps growing and growing, overtaking an entire field and crushing two people’s barns, despite efforts by the government to stop it “OH! What a beauty!”

Giant carnivorous pill bug-like aliens that are indistinguishable from watermelons when they roll up. This is an adaptation to catch prey

Crop circles (the classic)

Whole-tree fruit poisoning to ensure that the owner dies. “By the way… don’t touch the figs”

Ghost of a child who was murdered in a blueberry field writes a warning in blueberries to other children that the killer is still on the prowl

"Tell me, little wolf, do you wish to punish those who have wronged you?" spoke the man, his insidious voice twisting and twining around the hero's ear, the villain's breath ghosting against the back of his neck.

The boy jerked away, shuddering from the terrifying closeness of his enemy, but unfortunately not getting far. The chains that wrapped his wrists and arms, connecting to the floor, prevented him from rising past his knees.

"The only one I want to punish is you!" growled the young hero, eyes narrowed in hate even as fear trickled through his veins, coming to rest in a tight knot within his chest.

The cold metal beneath him bit at his numbed legs. The hero could feel, second by second, drip by drip, his own blood draining from the various wounds inflicted during his latest escape attempt. He swayed, the floor rising to meet him for a split second before he caught himself.

"Oh? And why is that, I wonder," the man said, his tone darkly conversational as he observed the hero's rapidly fading consciousness.

"You took everything from me," said the hero, young voice cracking from an emotion too difficult to name, hatred leaking away to leave exhaustion in its wake, "Why have you never killed me? I've given you so many chances, but you never--!" the hero broke off, shoulders slumping.

"Perhaps this will explain..." responded the villian, coming to a decision as he stood before the tired hero.

Hero heard a soft click and the sound of the villian moving, the rustling of cloth.

"Look at me."

Startled, the hero froze, eyes locked on the grate beneath him. The villians voice was clear, unfiltered by the mask he always wore.

Hero didn't dare look into the villain's face, afraid of what he'd find.

Because he knew that voice. Knew it from a young age. And he hadn't heard it since the day his life shattered.

"Come, little brother, are you so afraid to see your precious big brother's face after all this time?" that familiar voice mocked.

Hero slowly looked up. He had to know. Maybe it wasn't who it sounded like, maybe it was a trick...

But as his gaze slowly traveled up, landing unerringly on the villian's face, Hero's eyes widened. He shook his head in denial, his face crumpling as something deep in his chest shattered

Hero tried to scramble forward on their knees but Supervillain yanked their fistful of Hero’s hair back so Hero was left straining their neck and not being able to move a muscle.

“What the fuck did you do to them?!” Hero cried out, still struggling despite every nerve in their scalp being on fire.

“I fixed them Hero. That’s what I have to do. Anything you touch you ruin. You break. You always have. Ever since we were kids,” Supervillain said wrenching Hero’s head back so Hero was forced to stare up at Supervillain. The look of pure hatred on Hero’s bloodied face was magnificent.

“Guess who has to clean up your mess everytime you fuck up? Hmm? Did you think it was just fate that kept you from the laws clutches more than once? No. I was there. In the shadows. Cleaning up every mistake. Silencing every witness. You did this, I just fixed the problem.”

Supervillain shoved Hero froward and with their hands handcuffed behind their back they had nothing to slow their fall so they jutted their shoulder out to take the impact.

They were met with the face of henchmen, staring ahead looking at nothing. “You made them love you. This is the consequence of your indulgence. Now say why.”

Hero hiccuped and shook their head, screwing their eyes shut. Even then in the darkness they could see Henchmen’s unseeing stare. The blood dried on their sallow skin.

“Say why Hero!” Supervillain yelled and Hero sobbed, memories of when their parents died surfacing and turning Hero’s stomach. A kick came to their stomach. Then their face. Then Supervillain lifted a foot and slammed in into Hero’s ribs. Hero’s eyes shot open in a silent scream as the wind was ripped from their chest. “Tell me why.”

“Because I’m unlovable,” Hero sobbed softly.

“Good. Who’s the only person who can love you, hero? Who has always been there? Stuck by your side?”

Hero looked into Supervillain’s face, so like their own. The same narrow nose, the same green eyes, the same intensity in their eyes.

“You, supervillain.”

Supervillain’s expression softened then and they nodded. They sat down and scooped Hero into their arms, running their hand down Hero’s hair as Hero sobbed into their shoulder.

“I’m sorry Hero, but it’s better this way. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here, everything will be okay.”

“I know.”

“Good,” said Supervillain. “Good. And hero?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t disobey me again.”

Concept #10

A group of villains team up on the city’s most powerful and respected hero. Once they manage to reveal the hero’s secret identity, they’re shocked to find out that the hero is a child.

Set Up

Supervillain stalked closer and closer, but Hero was too weak to rise. Too weak to try and run away. They lay there waiting for their impending doom. 

“Don’t worry, little one,” Supervillain said as they crouched down, “you were set up to fail. Superhero always sets their apprentices up to fail.”

Hero opened their mouth to reply, but found they had no words. They squeezed their eyes shut against the tears that threatened to spill over. How could Superhero send them off to their death? After everything?

“Shhh, shhh,” Supervillain said soothingly as they reached out to cup Hero’s cheek. “Don’t cry. It’ll be quick.”

“Please,” Hero finally managed to gasp out. “Please, don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything. Anything! Please. Let me live.”

Supervillain took Hero’s chin between their thumb and forefinger, drawing Hero closer. “Anything? That’s a big offer. Are you sure?”

Hero knew they would come to regret this. But they had no choice. Doing anything for Supervillain seemed a lot better than dying right now. They nodded. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Supervillain smiled softly and lifted Hero into the air. “Let’s go then.”

“Go?” Hero didn’t like how gently Supervillain held them, almost tenderly even. 

“Yes. You’re going home with me. We’ll start your training when you’re ready.”

“What?” Hero was sure that this was some sort of sick joke. 

“Unlike Superhero, I don’t set up my apprentices for failure. I make sure they have adequate training and only send them out when they are good and ready. Join me, Hero, and your life will vastly improve.”

Sometimes writing (not actually writing) just feels like:

"Does anybody have a map? Anybody maybe happen to know how the hell to do this? I don't know if you can tell But this is me just pretending to know

So where's the map? I need a clue 'Cause the scary truth is I'm flying blind And I'm making this up as I go"

Scooby-Doo Remake By Me

Because of the horridness that was Velma, I present my version of a modern Scooby-Doo remake in the "adult show" format. I have no ideas for the title

First off concept:

I’d imagine they're all in online college rather than in highschool. Velma would major in either law or history, Daphne is studying fashion, Fred is studying engineering, and Shaggy is studying psychology. Though one little change is rather than a group of monster hunters I’d imagine them as a small news company and they’re all basically journalists (as a part time job). I do want to follow the one mystery per episode format however I will be taking the idea of there being a string of murders that the gang is following. I guess how it would be implied that it's an adult show would be the gore, just a few swears, and maybe for characters arcs and side plots more adult topics are explicitly talked about. 

Fun little thing I’d like to add is the gang has a swear jar hence all their different catch phrases, I believe that Shaggy would swear the most. I would also make it so the gang travels around the world and we'd get to see different ghost folklore and history.

Now the fun part; The Gang

Velma:

Velma I imagine being a very book smart person with a more dorky personality. I imagine her being not very street smart and tends to be a bit unaware of the situation meaning she tends to be a bit brutally honest. She gets a bit far too invested in the mysteries. Velma would be very organized and controlled compared to the group and just really loves learning things and solving mysteries. I do imagine her being more introverted and not as willing to talk to others outside of the gang. I also just like the idea of an autistic Velma, which I think might fit.

Daphne:

Daphne I suppose would be a very upbeat and energetic person. I remember in some versions she was very damsel in distress type, so I just imagine her being reckless and clumsy so she gets into danger often but she can hold her own. She definitely loves the danger and adventure aspect of the mystery solving the gang does. I also just like the idea that she was in a very high up family so she’s very rich so she tends to be a bit unaware of what counts as expensive to others, so sometimes she just spends without thinking while the others stare confused. Daphne would definitely be the one interested in more horror related content.

Fred:

The golden retriever. The himbo. The sweet guy who just wants to make everyone happy. I imagine him being more kind and charismatic in this version and is just a very likable person, like a teddy bear. I do see the potential to make him someone who goes a bit too far in the self-sacrificing side of things. I also imagine that he is actually very intelligent (the traps) but focuses far too much on that one thing. I also just imagine his smart moments just come out at the most random times and he believes that its basic information doesn't explain anything so everyone else (maybe except Velma) is confused. I believe in the idea that Fred’s catchphrase is fuck and everytime he says that he puts a coin in the swear jar. ADHD coded Fred, just an energetic person with strange fascinations (aka traps)

Shaggy and Scooby:

Shaggy I don’t know why but based on what we already know I imagined he’d be a very sarcastic person. He also just really loves food and of course is a bit of a coward. Based on the idea from Lavender Town, I do wanna follow the idea of Scooby being a service dog however I’d make him an anxiety service dog instead. I do like the concept of Shaggy suffering from anxiety and maybe developed the habit of overeating. For Scooby, if he talks then he talks but I love the idea of his situation being similar to Groot meaning everyone in the gang can understand him but everyone else (including the audience) can't understand anything. Shaggy is the coward of course but I also imagined he’s actually somewhat of a jock and is often used as a distraction because of his speed. Also based of his past interpretations he would be a pretty sassy and sarcastic kind of dude here. He just seems to like insulting people in the past versions.

Dear Closeted People On Tumblr...

How do I pretend to be straight?

What do straight people talk about? How do I sit properly? How do I make it seem like I'm not distracted by a girl's beauty and I am indeed enchanted by the non-existing handsomeness of a boy? How does one breath in a gay panic?

The Narrator

Sometimes I find that the narrator for stories is just far too boring in most stories that I read. I like narrators that either have more fucking personality or just say the most random shit (for example the wonderful Lemony Snicket in Series of Unfortunate Events). Give the narrator some fucking sass. Make them swear. Make them question what the fuck they're witnessing.

Make your narrator a character. Make them make the reader question the character and story by throwing in off hand comments when telling the story. Make them insult the reader. Make them call us all the fuck out in the most insulting way possible.

I tried taco bell for the first time... I think my tounge is far too Indonesian for white people food. Honestly what the fuck was that, its flavorless mush with only slightly crunchy chip shit thrown in.

Papers Out!

The thriller/comedy series I'm writing featuring character stereotypes that I either change completely or improve/expand details on. It focuses on a newspaper club filled with some of the main stereotypes you see in teen movies as they get dragged into a mystery involving human experimentation and the paranormal going on within their up tight private boarding school. My main cast includes an anxious nerd with a strange obsession with perfection, his sheltered catholic best friend who also embodies the gay best friend troupe, a mute theater kid who has definitely got arrested for arson at some point, a jock who acts as the groups overprotective older brother who is a bit far too caring, and the school's popular girl who definitely does not have a strange obsession with her image and has crippling insecurities.

When Death's Due

When I first made it up it was meant to be the concept for a musical. Its a story of a teen girl who attempted suicide finding herself being haunted by ghosts of people who died too young (aka teens and young children) who had died tragically. They attempt to improve her life but are horrible at it so they end up making a deal with the girl, if she does certain tasks for each ghost then they'll leave her alone and cue the rest of the story.

The Chosen One Troupe

I'm always wondering why most writers I see always have a very similar why of going around with this troupe. Think of all the possibilities:

They could be a literal war criminal who has killed thousands of people

They could be a tired college student who doesn't want to deal with this bullshit

Could be fucking married to the bad guy they're meant to kill and just go all "nah"

A gen z who is done with life

Could just die and those prophecy reading dunderheads were looking for the wrong fucking person

All the stupid possibilities

My Love In The Sea

The captain walked near the side of the ship. The rest of the crew were asleep, note a single light was on. The captain looked across the vast and endless ocean and looked for something. Any splash or small gleam in the darkness on the night. The call however stayed, calling the captain to jump into the waters below and to return again into the arms of the ocean, to return again into the arms of her beloved. She smiled at the memories of walking to a hidden part of the bridge under a cliff where she and her beloved would meet every evening before she started sailing. They would spend hours together, talking, singing, giving each other gifts and kisses all over. Exchanging gifts was something they loved to do. Her love always enjoyed giving her rings and shells while she gave her dearest small flowers and necklaces.

The captain reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a locket. It was silver and had flower and ocean themed carvings all over. She ran her fingers over the design, feeling every lovely engraving of the locket. The inside part of the locket and her beloved, engraved into the metal. Forever together in some sort of way. One of the last things her love ever gifted to her. The last thing her dearest had done with her the last time they ever spoke. Before that darn ship decided to cast her dearest out on the sea.

Every day that passed without her love made her want to tear through the entire ocean floor apart so she could simply see her love one last time. Oh how she wished she could claw open the throats of those who dared to blame the storm on her love and cast her over the boat and into the ocean. Well, she supposes blasting their ship and leaving them to drown was a good enough punishment. Their fear filled faces and cries for help were almost as wonderful as her beloved’s singing.

Her fingers still moved over the engraving of the necklace, she wondered what the water below would feel like, if they would feel as warm and comforting as her love was no matter how cold they both were in the winter. She wondered if her love would smile at her again even after all the things she had done.

She had bathed villages in blood, she burned down villages and ships, drowned helpless victims, tricked all those who dared to challenge her into giving up their lives for a failed attempt to gain riches. All their screams were a wonderful melody in her ears. She had explored almost every piece of land and ocean that the world had to offer. Gained almost every piece of treasure and gold that she could get her hands on.

She heard her love call out for her again. She saw the way the water moved towards her. Her beloved was calling for her again. She promised her love that she would travel the world for her and then she would come and return to her. Her love seemed to have missed her. What a silly thing her dearest was. She knew her love had followed her around on every trip and venture.

She knew they were always there with her. But she couldn’t say the same. She wasn’t truly with her beloved yet. But she was about to be.

She looked down into the waters below. The locket around her neck. She stared into the ocean and heard the final calling of her love. Her love was waiting underneath the waters for her. Her love had been waiting every day. Her beloved was calling out for her so that they could be together again. Oh how she was ready to return to her beloved's arms. To see her smile and laughter again.

The captain looked behind the ship once more. She saw her first mate standing behind her. Her first mate didn’t need her to speak to know what she was about to do and where she was about to go. A silent nod and they returned back inside the ship.

She smiled. She stood off at the edge of the ship. And she jumped.

Right into the waters below.

Deep into the ocean where you can never be found.

And there she saw her once more. Her beloved’s long hair and tail practically curled around her. Arms wrapped around her as she felt every sense of drowning leave and felt herself breathing under the surface. Her beloved’s voice happily laughed right into her ears and she felt her body slowly seem to change in some way, apparently her love couldn’t wait anymore.

The siren was ecstatic to see her dearest again. She waited so long and so patiently for them to be together again. She felt arms return the hug as her darling’s transformation continued on. She giggled as she removed parts of the needless complicated fabric so that her love’s changing could be as painless and comfortable as possible. 

Death never came to both on the nights they fell into the ocean. Supposed death couldn’t keep them apart forever. Because here they were together in the ocean once more.