INTRO POST A SOLID 3 MONTHS AFTER JOINING IM SO SKILLED
Hi!! Im ali!!
you've probably seen me around before so here's the basic
pc rpf enjoyer
king of soph <3
might catch some other rpf too
maybe a bit of minecraft (life seris, hermitcraft, hbg-)
(don't like anything i said? block me and move on)
but for the most part this is a pc rpf blog, just with the occasional other fixations. I'm not going to force myself to stick to one thing, and really this blog is just me existing so if you see other things, its just me being silly :3
expect to see shit posts, crashouts, writting and drables, drawings, rantings, yappings, and maybe some au ideas
You may also see 🐦⬛ (crow) anon here from time to time too! Due to certain situaitons they sometimes just come bother me and insist i post some of their ideas here, and i love them /p so i do it (plus they're like 10x better than me any ways so-)
my asks and dms are always open so please feel free to come talk to me!! ik i havent said much to have asks or dms, but there always open and it'd be fun !! /gen
I also have a twitter!! I think most ppl here already have both my main and my priv, but if you dont here you go!! (if you want to join my priv just dm me here or on twt just go ik youre chill :3)
Main account (@__ali125)
Alt/Priv account (@__ali126)
(also yes this isn't as pretty as everyone else's intro post but tbh im too lazy to make it pretty and i think im long overdue so this is the best you're getting)
lowkey, i feel like ccs have never thought about their job at all because then they'd realise that getting people to be parasocial about them is the literal description/goal there. (like, genuinely, what else would giving your own money to people you don't know be? and being incentivised to be invested in them enough that you're a viewer long-term and watch them for long periods of time? genuinely?)
Exactlyy exactlyy and its why i roll my eyes at them when they whine about parasocialism but in the same day ask for donos or to reach a hypertrain/subgoal.
These people stream 4 hours a day somtimes multiple times a week. Have regulars they call about by name cheesing and giggling and asking about thier days. If you know a “regulars” life details. Congrats. Thats parasocialism. What you have right there is someone who spends thier days watching YOU. Chatting with YOU. Giving YOU money. Buying YOUR merch. and you always give them special attention and often even make them mod or give them some other type of unpaid job for your community.
like im sorry if you do a mod application. having someone moderate your discord for free. That persons gonna wanna think of you as a friend. Think your closer then you are. Its how the human brain works. Idc if you dont like it you shouldent be in the parasocialism buisness then. You cant benefit from “damaging” behavior then whine when its damaging to you. If someone spends alot of time doing stuff for you for free. Taking time out of their day. They get to be a little parasocial.
My most woke take is i belive streamer dono culture is harmful to children and if you have dono on AND try to police if children can make hcs about you on twitter your a bitch.
Kids giving money most of em dont have to adults who are gonna use it to travel and buy fancy stuff. Just so the streamer reponds and wishes them a happy birthday. Is parasocialism by definition but nobody cares cause it benefits streamers.
Merch is not parasocial by itself. They give u money they get a product. getting a sub is parasocial but more resonable. They get the product of more emotes, and accesd to chat when its set to sub only.
Dono messages? Paying to talk to people. Kids shouod not be encouraged to do that. You should never have to pay to talk to another living being. Nobody is that important. It encourages the idea of spending money to get the streamer to like you. If that donator becomes a “regular” its even more abhoorent. we should dismantle dono culture. Or stop bitching about parasocialism otherwise.
I would rather have kids draw thier yumeships on tumblr and give these cc every single minority label they have. then give these rich adults a goddam penny. If youd rather a kid give u money then cope with thier attachment away from you with art or stories or cosplays you are a damn hypocrite and i dont respect you.
They only want the benefits. Money and ego when this relationship can destroy mentals if the fan isent allowed space to be parasocial AND dissociate from the public figure.
You dont get the free art without some ship art existing. You dont get money from donos without people yuming shipping on private discords. You dont get hours of retention time for your 4 hour video without some kids getting bored and theorizing your trans halfway through.
Wanna preach about parasocialism? Pay your mod team and turn donos off.
context: a chapter in my mtn/dnd story for the boys
The campfire, once a roaring fire that lit the entire (temporary) campsite, died down to still red charcoal. The light once emitted flickered down to just simply a faint glow. The warmth, while it had died down a lot, still provided enough heat to keep the mostly sleeping group warm until sunrise.
Sophist continued lying on his bed, no longer asleep. Those dreams of his past always woke him up, never letting him fall asleep again, haunting his mind till the morning distractions. Those charcoals laying on the ground reminded him a bit too much of it, plus, there’s no point in just laying for the next few hours until the sun rose again.
Sophist sat up, slowly rising to his feet as he tried not to disturbed the rest of his companions. He walked over to the tree line, choosing to lean up against a tree as he stared up into the sky.
The night sky showed the beautiful colors of the galaxy. Pinks, purples, and blues, and maybe hints of green, illuminated the sky as tiny stars clustered together, adding beauty to the sky. No clouds blocked the view, instead the moon stood brightly offering some light to the otherwise pitch darkness of the land.
He stood like that for quite some time. It reminded him of the nights where he did nothing but stare at his old home. Obviously the sky wasn’t anywhere close to the same, and the grass felt too different to feel truly immerse, but the silence of city noises and the beauty of the sky still reminded him of it. Or perhaps it was just because it was constantly on his mind right now.
Suddenly, sounds of footsteps took over the thoughts of his mind. Looking down he saw Vernias, still slightly sleepy, walking closer to him. Sophist noticed how Vern’s wings draped down his back, almost forming what looked like a cape. Vern took a seat next to Sophist on the grass, rubbing his eyes, content with the silence.
“Couldn’t sleep either huh?” Sophist spoke, adding a small chuckle to the end of his sentence. “Ya, shitty nightmare, and couldn’t really fall back after that, you know?” Vernias sleepily replied.
“What’d ya dream about?” Sophist inquired, genuinely curious about it. “Oh, well,” Vernias began. He didn’t know how exactly to explain about his ever so slightly prophetic dreams gifted to him, or if he even needed to explain it. Maybe not, just describe the dream, plus, nothing too bad happened in it. “It was just about, well, there was no clear plot, but trying to go in order, there was a [insert really cool foreshadowing]. And finally, there was just an empty field that was just, like, really cold,” Vernias finally finished. “I don’t know if that really makes sense,” Vern added as he tilted his head down to face the ground.
After a second of regaining his full composure, Vern interrupted the silence again. “What about you? Why are you up in the middle of the night?”
Sophist paused for a second. A sense of dread filled him as he tried to compile a good answer. He wasn’t going to answer the question with as much detail as Vernias did. “Keep it vague,” He told himself. “Bad dream too.”
“Oh, sorry to hear that.” is all Vern chose to add. He just assumed Sophist didn’t want to share. Plus, he didn’t want to pressure Sophist into sharing something he wasn’t ready to.
Vernias looked at the ground again. Playing with the blades of grass and the small flowers scattered scarcely around, he tried to form a coherent structure with it. He tried to tie the blades of grass with the flowers, really trying his best to make it work. Unfortunately, his efforts were for nothing. Whatever structure he had kept becoming undone, or the blades of grass would rip when tying, making it impossible to continue. He threw the blades of grass and the flowers to the ground in an admit of defeat.
Sophist noticed Vernias’ attempts, and more importantly, his failure as he let out a small chuckle.
“Oh shut up. I want you to do better.” Vernias objected, quickly shooting up to his feet. He crossed his arms, not amused at all by Sophist’s mockery at his failure.
“Nah, but I do kinda want to try something,” Sophist replied. Quickly, he summoned his staff as it poofed into his hand.
He repositioned his hands as he closed his eyes to focus. Seemingly effortlessly, bright purple light emitted from the staff, floating upward almost like fire on a torch. The colors twisted in the air as it lit up the two standing there. Sophist smiled warmly, admiring the light created. “To be honest I’m surprised it still works even with Noah’s restrictions. I mean I guess it’s useless, but still fun.”
Vern’s face lit up (both from the light but also from an idea he had) “WAIT!” He leaned forward as he tried to fly back over to his staff, before being reminded of one of the rules given to him. No flying. Vern sighed in defeat as he got his balance back, once again annoyed with Sophist’s snickering he could faintly hear. He relaxed his shoulders and held his hand out as he summoned his staff (something he didn’t do nearly as often as Sophist, so it didn’t come as naturally).
Vern, following very similar steps from Sophist, closed his eyes as he allowed for a similar pink light to flow from his staff. The two colors twisted in the air, slowly fading off into nothing. Vern smiled widely, truly amazed with the simple beauty found even in these situations.
“It is very cool, still useless though. Unless we’re in a cave or something I guess.” Sophist finally added, stopping the stream of light. “I don’t know, I just wanted to see if I could do it again after not using it for a while,” Sophist answered a question no one posed. Vernias didn’t really care why, just glad that Magic’s rules didn’t fully restrict everything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun rose as the two still sat there. It wasn’t as early into the night as the two thought, perhaps standing for about two-ish hours before the sun rose. Vernias chose to spend the majority of his time trying other spells just trying to see what else would work. What Magic didn’t take away.
Unfortunately, much of his efforts were useless. Only one or two in every twenty spells worked. All serving the use of looking pretty. But hey, at least it was something to do.
Sophist chose to spend the rest of his time either staring at the sky, or finding Vernias’ failures amusing. He didn’t really care to find all the spells that were working. He had Thunderspell, it was enough.
At this point the sun had just barely creeped over the horizon. The sky was a gentle golden color, clouds began to form as scattered small groups formed. They collected the sun’s rays, producing a similar golden color to the sky.
These colors, the dew, the wind, the clouds, it all reminded him of it. He remembered how the grass always looked so golden in the morning when the sun hit it just right. How the breeze always felt so calming. How the clouds always looked painted on. It was all just a bad reminder.
Sophist closed his eyes, trying not to think about it right now. It would be a waste anyways. Not like he could go there right now.
“Hey you guys are up early.” Sophist heard a voice call. Opening his eyes he saw Brent who looked well rested and put together (sure some hairs were astray, and there were a few dirt smudges on his outfit. But for the most part, he looked exactly the same from when he started).
Vern chose to speak for the two, “Ya, we got up and couldn’t really go back to sleep. Is Nick up yet?”
Brent looked over to now just Nick at the firepit, not really gaining much information. “Not really. He was kinda awake, but he was really just half awake. Do you think we should wake him?”
“I CALL ON DOING IT” Sophist yelled out as he raced over to Nick. “WAIT I DON’T THINK WE SHOULD-” Vernias followed closely, opposing Sophist’s seemingly unanimous decision, leaving Brent wheezing at the chaos the two (or really Sophist) caused first thing when they got up.
Sophist hovered the end of his staff close to Nick’s face as he thought of the best way to mess with him. “Listen, I think we just let Nick sleep for a bit longer. We’re not really in a rush…” Vernias yapped. Sophist wasn’t paying any attention, he was too busy thinking. He focused for a second, finally having an idea, allowing for a huge pulse of light to flash from the end. It was something Vernias scared Sophist with when he was testing, now it was Sophist’s turn to scare Nick.
Reacting to the light, Nick grumbled as he was blinded by the light. “What the fuck?” He mumbled as he slowly opened his eyes. “Aw, I wanted to scare you” Sophist admitted sadly, causing Brent, who just joined the group, to laugh some more. “Well ya didn’t” Nick commented, still annoyed with Sophist’s antics. He sat up, if not reluctantly, as he adjusted his eyes to the sunlight.
“I guess we can head out soon,” Brent began. “Obviously whenever you’re ready Nick, but there’s not really a point in stalling.”
“Ya sure, just give me like five minutes or something to actually wake up,” Nick stated groggily as he stretched his arms out. “Yeah yeah of course,” Brent added again.
“Why would you do that, Sophist? You know a light as bright as that could cause…” Vernias continued to speak to Sophist, annoyed with the antics he always insisted on doing. Brent could tell Sophist was paying very little attention, instead just vaguely staring off to the side of him. Brent couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene.
“Ok I’m ready to go,” Nick finally said, not paying too much attention to Vernias’ and Sophist’s conversation. “Ok, perfect, you guys ready to head out?” Brent added, wanting to make sure everyone was ready before they left. The two silently said yes, and the party (crashers) was on their way to their next obstacle.
I have a few random wips from my writing document I just never finished. I figured I'd just dump them here to maybe get motivation to finish one and also try to once again get rid of my fear of sharing my work, bad and not. Some of these are as short as like 100 words, others are longer (~1000), but yk enough traction and attention I could finish a few if anyone wants me to ig.
tw: gay | total word count: 2741
Why can’t you stay?
word count: 129 | ship: BrentxSophist | weight of the crown inspired AU.
…
Brent froze in the doorframe. There, in the room, was Sophist, his silly tophat, over-the-top cape, and his unforgettable purple suit.
“Hey, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Sophist gently spoke, playing with the back of his neck as he did.
Brent didn’t know how to respond. It’s been a year? Two? Maybe even three since they last saw each other. It felt like an eternity for him. And he knew why he left. Sophist had his responsibilities to his people, just as Brent did. [...]
Still unsure on what to say, Brent walked up to him, each step taking what felt like an eternity, yet consistent in his pace.
Sophist let out a soft sigh, smiled warmly while and afterward, and opened his arms allowing Brent to come in?????????
SEVERE hurt/comfort
word count: 622 | Ship: Suppose to be BrentxEevee but I stopped before I got there | This fanfic is HEAVILY inspired by another fanfic I found, but I don't remeber where it is and I can't find it
Brent sat on his throne, his mind wandering as he watched out the window. He saw the people of the village, how the kids ran around or how the adults stood and chatted. He could feel that same, [creeping] feeling sneak into his chest, that feeling which he could never really pin-point what it truly was. The only way he could describe it was yearning. A desire for something else, maybe another life. He felt pitiful for it. He was king after all. Anything he wanted was quite literally at his fingertips, but the constant work, pressure, negotiating, it made him question if he was truly fit for this life, and his dad never made him feel any better.
“Of course, what else is the king supposed to do besides sitting on a throne?” Well speaking of the devil, his dad’s harsh footsteps echoed throughout the hall. Brent felt his body stiffen, fingers shaking and the desire in his chest changing to uneasiness.
“I’m sorry father I was just-”
“I don’t want to hear your excuse. You know when I was king I brought this kingdom from a pitiful waste of space to something respectable…” Another one of his useless rants. It’s almost like he was addicted to talking about how ‘great’ he was, despite the fact he almost certainly did very little to actually help his kingdom.
“And now our kingdom has you.” The final word was spoken with hatred lacing it, “The king who refuses to do anything for its kingdom, the king who would rather sit on his throne, and the king who chooses his friends over-”
Finally he snapped, “Oh that’s bullshit and you know it.”
“Excuse me you do not speak to your father-”
Brent bulldosed right over whatever his ‘dad’ had to say. “I’ve done so much to bring this kingdom back to where it was before your rule. Do you know how many shitty policies I had to undo? Or reiterate? It’s been three months since my coronation and the entire time I’ve been fixing the mess you made.” Brent paused after finishing, taking a heavy sign before taking a seat back down in his throne. There’s so much more he wanted to say but he knew he was already pushing his luck. He rubbed his temples waiting for his dad to explode in whatever breakdown he’s going to have.
“Brent Moose Skill.” Brent rolled his eyes, already knowing what would come. “At the end of the day I am still your father. I don’t care what throne you sit on or whose crown you’re wearing.” He was pissed. Every other word was said through gritted teeth. He climbed up the stairs standing face to face with the new king, still yelling at the same volume he was when he was down the stairs. “But you will respect me and you will respect my rule.” Brent wanted so badly to punch him right in the face, but somehow managed to fight the impulse. HIs dad gave him some personal space. HIs dad uttered under his breath, “I regret letting you rule my kingdom.”
Brent felt dumbfounded from his words. What did he mean ‘his kingdom’? He wanted to scream again, let him know all the good he did and all the bullshit his dad did, but he chose to not fight this battle and sit back down on his throne, even with a defeated sigh.
His dad, on the other hand, had no intention of stopping. He continued his rant, “I can’t believe you failed so badly on ruling. Our military is suffering-” That’s because military funds are being moved to help those after the fires. “-The nobles are dissatisfied-” Because I’m prioritizing our citizens.
As the Snow Hits the Ground
(yes I posted this one before but its cute god damit)
word count: 1066 | Ship: BrentxEevee
The gentle snowfall in the Kingdom of Skill was never something surprising, yet to Brent it was always a nice welcome to the day. While the cold was never his favorite, he could never deny the elegance a fresh coating of snow brought to the kingdom. Or perhaps he favored the way snowflakes gently whisked to the ground, or maybe it was the found memories he had with his family before-
A gentle knock stopped him from finishing that thought. Slowly, he rose from his perch at the window sill, and walked over to answer the door who's knocking never stopped. He pressed his hand against the door as he opened, making sure to do it as slowly as possible—it had become a habit to do so for whatever reason. Well he knew the reason, he just didn’t want to admit it.
As soon as he saw it to be Sophist, he opened the door fully, a warm smile crossing his face without his command to. He knew Sophist was never fond of the snow, if anything he actively hated the cold. Though anytime he pressed for answers all he got was “some shit in my past,” which just had to be as vague as possible. Before Brent could truly question it Sophist welcomed himself into Brent’s room, plopping himself on his bed as the complaints came in immediately. “Bro why does it have to be snowing, now I can’t get anything done.” The annoyance in his tone was undeniable, though maybe a bit of sarcasm was sprinkled in.
Brent gave a slight chuckle at the absurdity of it. “It’s literally only like two inches, it's not even that bad.” Sopshit chose not to take the easy jab at the lude joke Brent set him up for, instead responding to the comment with an answer he knew Brent already learned, “Well I can’t go to my observatory cause its snowing, plus its like super cold in there, and you know I don’t like the cold.”
“You’re living in the Kingdom of Skill, it snows like every week.”
“Doesn’t mean I like it,” he replied, a bit too sly.
Brent sighed. He was getting nowhere with this. He walked over to his bed, taking a seat behind Sophist letting his head rest on his lap as Brent ran his hand through his hair. A comforting silence filled the room. Brent never minded these moments, he actually found them quite comforting. It was a warm reminder it wasn’t just those snippets of dialogues he fell for. It was the person behind those. A slight blush brushed his cheeks.
He could tell Sophist didn’t think the exact same. He nervously scratched at his wrist, eyes never quite landing in one spot as they jumped around the ceiling, sometimes stealing a little glance at Brent as he still stroked his hair, though that never lasted for more than a moment.
Brent finally let Sophist out of his misery, killing the silence with a question he asked countless times before, “Why do you hate the snow so much?” Finally his eyes landed on Brent, staring at him blankly—maybe he was looking for something, or maybe it just took him a second to process the question—before snapping back to his fidgety state and answering the question, “Told ya some shit that happened, like, ten years ago.”
“What happened?” Brent’s eyes never left his own hands, them running through Sophist’s hair must have been the most interesting things. Sophist’s nails dug deeper into his skin, his mind seemingly unaware of the stim. His eyes never held still for more than a few moments, constantly glancing at Brent’s expression now definitely trying to find something. The silence, this time, made both uneasy. Brent interjecting, deciding to give Sophist an out this time, “-that is if you’re comfortable to share. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Oh how badly he wanted Sophist to tell him, yet he gave a reassuring sympathetic look instead of conveying it. He would never force his boyfriend to confess something he wasn’t ready to. (..Right?)
“I don’t know it was just,” He struggled to find the right word. He looked a bit more directly at Brent—at least he was making an effort. His eyes were never allowed to hold eye contact with his boyfriend for longer than a split second. “-It was just something. I don’t think I can explain it.”
Brent hummed for a second before remembering he should actually say something, finally shifting his gaze to give a simple smile at Sophist as he spoke, “It’s ok, you can tell me whenever you’re ready.”
Both slipped back into the makeshift routine they so quickly fell into this position, neither truly wanting this moment to end, but both wanted something slightly more.
Brent let the moment linger for a bit longer before readying himself. He let his hands slip out of Sophist hair—he so badly didn’t want to— and leaned back a bit, using his now free hands to brace himself. Sophist finally looked at Brent for longer than a few moments, trying to read what was on his mind.
Brent finally spoke up, “Look listen we don’t have to if you don’t want to, but do you want to go outside, just for like, 15 minutes? Just me and you in the castle garden.” Sophist definitely wasn’t expecting that. His eyes immediately looked to the sheets surrounding him, this time tightening his grip on his wrist.
The words came out of his mouth before he could tell them to not, “Um sure.” Fuck what was he getting himself into? Welp he was in too deep now. “But only for the 15 minutes.”
Brent immediately perked up, his eyes scanning over Sophist’s face, surprised this stubborn ass man was actually agreeing to it. “Wait really?”
“Eh fuck it really don’t care right now,” Sophsit sat up as he tried to act not terrified. He stood up grabbing his hat and cap he hung at Brent’s chair when he first came in. “Now stop just sitting there before I take it back,” fake confidence was covering the statement, he just hoped Brent wouldn’t notice. Brent took the hint and, seemingly in a rush, jumped out of his bed to grab his own cape, joining Sophist by his side as the two walked outside.
The camera shuttered, and soon enough an image printed out in front of it. Vernias grabbed the little slip of paper and shook it in the air as the film developed. Slowly, and what felt like forever, the picture fully cleared up. He smiled warmly at the image, even if it was mere moments ago. It was just a simple photo, him, Nick, Sophist and Brent just standing next to each other. They met up again and at the last minute decided to go to a convention nearby. Nothing crazy, just some local smash tournament, but they did have some free time. Vernias continued to study the photo, immediately noticing some imperfections in the print job, but more focusing on the others. He saw the stupid grin Sophist always had, how slightly award Brent was, how smug Nick looked. Vernias found it endearing, their stupid little characters shown in their own little way. He almost didn’t notice the slight blush on his face.
“Hey let me see it!” Nick’s voice immediately snapped Vernias back to reality. He let the camera fall, only to be held up by his slash, and stuck out the photo to Nick. He studied it too, though not to the extent Vernias did, instead simply nodded before running to catch up to Brent and Sophist, who apparently already ran off.
Vern quickly realised the others left, and quickly—though with care to not crumple it too much—placed the photo in his pocket. “Wait for me!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Click!
“Why’d you take a backshot of us, bro.” Vernias just sighed as he reached in front of the camera to grab the printed image. The other two had their usual set of complaints to Brent’s joke, though neither took their eyes off the screen. Vernias once again carefully put the photo in his pocket and let the camera fall to his side, joining Brent in between the other two playing.
It was an open console type thing, and even if it wasn’t Nick and Sophist didn’t seem to care. More than anything the two seemed to be fucking around, neither of which played on their main, just instead fucking around with bottom tier characters. As soon as Vernias realised good content wasn’t going to be found, he took the more recent of the photos out of his pocket to study it. Even with its poor quality—it was some cheap instant camera, but it was good enough for what he wanted—
“I need you”
word count: 428 | BrentxEevee | weight of the crown inspired AU.
Brent was already pacing around the room. His cape and crown long discarded as he stared at the ground, arms crossed and pleading, “I did everything I could, you heard how the council men acted. I tried to make a case for you but-”
“Well what am I meant to do now? Just go to trial? Get convicted? Be sent to die?” Sophist chose to sit on the edge of the bed. He had taken his hat long ago and set it on one of the bed’s posts. He didn’t even bother to bring his mask.
“No, obviously not. I’ll just have to think of something to say.”
“Oh, like that worked last time.”
“No offense Eevee but you aren’t the most likeable person in the kingdom right now. Half of the citizens and nearly all of the nobles want you dead. It’s not easy for-”
“Well what should I do? Seriously? I don’t need a king or a noble. I need you. I need my friend,” the final word came out like poison to both. “I need you more,” Sophist paused, but at this point it was all over anyway, “ I need you more than a friend.”
The silence that filled the room was deafening. Brent failed to find any words to convey his understanding, and Sophist just wanted to leave.
“But if you don’t want that, then it's fine.” Sophist turned around, grabbing whatever hat he left lying around before making his way to the door. “I’ll just handle it on my own.”
With the final words Sophist opened and closed the door before Brent could get the words out. He rushed to chase after him, to try and fix everything like he should’ve done the first time. He ran to the door, twisted the nob and desperately looked for him. Yet he was nowhere to be found. Either side of the corridor, which both stretched out to near infinity, didn’t hold Sophist nor any trace of him.
All Brent could do is stand in the corridor. He felt the slightest breeze and prayed to whatever he would turn to see him, yet it was still an empty hallway. He felt his chest tighten with a pain he never understood before.
Brent walked back into his room. He shut the door behind him, careful to not make any sound. He fell to the floor, the light from the sunset still shining in his room. All he was left with was a crown and the promise of night as he replayed the words he wished he said.
going through my wrting document and I forgot I was a kinda good writer at some point.
This story doesn't have a spot on tumblr, it's a oneshot with not fully fleshed out characters--if any at all-- so I'd work on my fear of presenting my work again by posting it here.
tw: mild mention of blood | word count: 1239
Mud mixed with blood and sweat. Rain poured down onto the still body, lightly splashing onto the stained red shirt as the once dark curly hair laid flat from the mix of sweat and rain. Blood stuck strands together, the mess seemingly never ending. In the distance screams could be heard. Were they orders? Commands? Questions? Pleas? He couldn't tell. He could barely think.
His body felt too heavy to move, even if every thought was screaming for him to do so. His mind wandered to his boyfriend. He was waiting. He had to leave him, duty calls after all. It shouldn’t have been anything different. A routine expectation of some gear of the amory before the platoon was sent to war. Yet now he laid nearly lifeless on the ground. What would his boyfriend say? Oh how he wished he was here right now. The feeling of his soft hands gently traced the burns that scattered his entire body now. His warm hands gently cupped his face, pulling him into one last lover’s embrace.
His eyes shut, lost in the imagination of salvation he desperately needed. He let his body go limp. His boyfriend was here after all. Everything was fine.
“Get up.”
His eyes shot open.
“Your partner is back at home.”
Where was that voice coming from? It sounded so familiar, yet so oddly comforting. He looked around. His eyes merely scanned left and right trying to find the source. His head and neck hurt far too much to even dare to move.
“You want to see him again?”
It was the only thing on his mind.
“Then get up.”
“The… the medics… soon…” he mumbled. It was the closest thing to a sentence he could form. He didn’t want to move, and surely the medics would notice the noble laying still on the ground. They could move him. Plus, what’s the harm in just taking a little nap? He would wake up, see his boyfriend, and everything would be ok.
“No one’s coming to save you. Get up.”
“...tired… it, it aches. Everything.”
“Nothing you feel will hurt more than what your boyfriend will feel when he hears the news.”
He hated that the angel—if that’s what it was— was right. His boyfriend is back home, probably pacing back and forth waiting to hear that he's safe. And yet he laid on the ground, blood still pouring out of his side.
He tried to sit up, his entire body hating every movement he forced it to make. Though by some miracle he managed to brace himself with an arm. He tried to do the same with the other, but as soon as he put any weight on it he only wanted to scream out in pain.
“....why does it hurt… like that?”
“It’s probably broken,” the angel said rather bluntly. “That should be the least of your worries. Stand up, and get home.”
He followed the angel’s command. Without using the broken arm, he slowly went from the ground to his knees, then to his feet. Everything still blasted in pain, but he refused to even think about what he was feeling. He needed to go home. That’s what the angel was saying. Was it even an angel? He looked around again. No one was there. No signs of anyone.
He turned back to see the armory completely decimated. The only thing standing was some burnt posts. He knew the village was around five, or was it six, maybe two miles away. He just started walking in the general direction. His good arm held his bad one, each step felt like walking with the entire world on top of him.
One step.
Then the next.
The another.
Just one more.
Just a couple more feet.
Then you’ll be home.
Your boyfriend will be there.
Happy smiles and he hugs you.
You smile too.
You feel complete.
You just need to take one more step.
So you did.
Until he didn’t.
He fell to the floor. He hit the ground with a thud. Sharp pain echoed throughout his entire body. He had to be close. If he could just…
Maybe a nap wouldn’t be so bad. Just close your eyes for a little.
“Close your eyes and you’re dead.” It was the angel again.
“But I’m just, so tired… Why won’t you let me rest?”
“You want to see him again?”
“Fine…” He mustered all the strength his burnt out body could hold, before standing up. He pushed himself up with his only good arm. He began his slow trudge once again. The muddy plains all felt the same. Nothing distinct between what was four more miles, or two more feet.
He refused to think of time. Just trudging with one thought on his mind. He smiled knowing each step was one closer to the safe haven, even if each step felt like stepping on sharp knives.
“You’re almost home. Just a few more steps.”
He finally looked his head up, before it was laser focused on the ground, but now he saw his hometown so close. He stopped in his tracks. Tears pricked his eyes once again as this shit storm was almost over. He could finally rest.
He continued his march, this time sprinting, as fast as his exhausted body could go. He couldn’t feel the throbbing pain accompanying every step. His arm swung back and forth, still limp. He chose to ignore the pain creeping in every time. He was home. That’s what was important.
He entered a path he grew so familiar with. He looked up to the heavens. He mustered a simple thank you to it. To whatever angel looked over him. The one that brought him home.
He fell to the ground for the final time. His world went black before he even hit the ground.
When he woke up, a throbbing headache welcomed him back. His clothes were noticeably different from the bloody and soaked garments he once wore. His arm was put into a simple cast and tight wrap hugged his side.
“Welcome back, your boyfriend is waiting for you outside if you want to see him,” the nurse smiled warmly as she spoke, even if distracted by organizing some bins.
“Oh, yeah I would like to see him.”
Peace at last.
“I’ll go fetch him,” the nurse responded, her smile bringing a simple comfort. She walked out the door, keeping it open for his boyfriend to finally walk in.
Without saying a word, he rushed over to the bed. Embracing him tightly.
So tightly in fact that his chest began to tighten. A cough formed and he let it out.
He kept coughing though, it didn’t seem to stop. His chest hurt, lungs were out of air. He heaved but it never seemed to go away.
His eyes opened once again and he violently sat up. Blood was on his hands. The fresh clothes were gone. The warm room became a wet and cold mess. He looked around, the muddy plains were back. In front of him people were yelling, yet he couldn’t tell what they were saying. The only structure in front of him was burnt and charred beams serving as the foundation of once strong warehouses.
He was back. Perhaps he was never gone.
All he wanted to do was close his eyes and go back.
WAIT ETC IS THE CORRECT WAY TO ABRIVATE et cetera AND ECT, THE WAY IVE BEEN SPELLING IT MY ENTIRE LIFE, IS A MISSPELLING??? WHY DID I NEVER LEARN THIS HELLO?
said i was doing something this year so yeah heres the most rough draft possible of one of my aus. I have plans to finish an acceptable draft of it by the end of the year and post everything on ao3 for the world to see, but for now it'll exist as it's most shitty version on pc rpf tumblr. really trying to embrace the mentality of "make it exist first, make it good later" and its my only cope. I'm only posting this to get over my fear of posting my work so haha yeah
ANYWAYS actually talking about the piece itself, itll shape up to be the first chapter of my superhero au. Again this is the "make it exist phase" so expect grammar mistakes, horrible characterization, and author notes and putting stuff off!
no tw | word count 1831
dont make fun of me-
“According to some rumors, a new super villain is sprouting up here, in [CITY], New Jersey. Little is known about the supposed threat this new antagonist poses, and their motives are completely unknown. The only evidence supporting this claim is a new warehouse emerging in the nearby forest, along with minor quakes appearing on a regular basis. These actions align strongly with the events which prestaged the emergence of the [NAME] in Australia. Though their reign was short- lived after the Underdogs, a group of superheros, stopped their reign. While the evidence is circumstantial, we now have to ask if there is a new villain in town, and if we’re getting our own group of heroes.”
Nick mindlessly sipped on his coffee as he only paid half attention to the news humming quietly on his phone. It was his routine of sorts, a way to start his day and maybe mention it to his class to pass the time. Today’s news was weird. He remembered hearing about that Underdog group a little while back, but the lack of new news made him believe it just fizzled out. Guess Australian news just doesn’t reach the states unless it’s really cool.
He swiped up on his news app, now mindlessly choosing to open twitter. At this point Vern would’ve been out any minute, and being honest nothing else on the news would’ve made his day better. With almost comedic timing, his entire feed was just about the rumors he heard on the news.
“What’s this new villain planning?”
“Oh there’s not going ot be new heros, probably some uber rich guy fucking around”
“[idk find more shit like this]”
He shrugged it off, at most planning some jokes to make in his class. Maybe there will be heroes showing up in no-where NJ, but he just assumed that it wouldn’t affect much of his life as a Teaching Assistant. What’s the worst thing some heroes would do? Property damaged? Insurance would probably cover it. He just didn’t really understand why so many people would freak out over the chance of some heroes showing up, just didn’t get the appeal.
Vern finally emerged from his room, on time for Vern but a bit late for Nick’s standards. “Are you ready to go?” Vern was as chippy as ever, a smile forming on Nick’s face out of pure [copying?? osmosis?? What's the word I'm trying to find??]. “Been ready for about twenty minutes. I was so bored I started watching the news,” his drama was over-emphasis, though quickly followed by an eye roll of Vern. “You watch the news everyday, old man.”
“Yeah yeah whatever. You get all your news from Twitter. At least I use a repeatable source.”
“Ok sure, what did you hear about anyways grandpa.”
“I’ll tell you while we walk. We’re going to be late if we don't start now.”
Following Nick’s lead, the two left the house, quietly shutting the door to not disturb the others, most likely still sleeping.
The scene was autumnal, the usually green leaves shifted to a yellow and orange hue. A gentle breeze accompanied the pair as they walked, leaves falling around them. Their conversation continued. “So yeah the news was just about some new super hero. The news, and most of twitter, is obsessed about them and a possible new group.”
“Oh like the Underdogs?? Or Sidequest?
“Yeah, something like those people. Superheroes to beat up the supposed villian. I just hope it doesn't affect us.”
“Is it close?”
“Yeah, it's base is in our city, with some openings in the forest nearby.”
“I think it’ll be cool, it’s like having our own mascots. Plus I’d like to be safe if there is a villain coming.”
“It’s all just rumors. Nothing’s confirmed yet.”
“Well we can hope.”
“you HOPE there’s some uber villian runnin around in our town??”
“ok well when you put it like that I sound bad. Nicolas I HOPE for some badass heroes to stop the bad guy.”
Silence consumed the duo, continuing on their usual path. While it was normal that the pair would find some quiet on.the walk, it was strange this time. It felt like there was a distance between them,the silence now hostile, in a sense,
“How do you think it works? The powers and stuff. Are they like a given, or is it something at birth?” The question was Nick’s solution to the uncomfortable silence.
“I don’t know. I want to say they just had it since birth, but it's hidden. It’s not till the right moment it comes out, you know?”
“Eh maybe. We could probably ask them. Aren't they all retired and shit?”
“Uhh I think sidequest is, but I’m not really sure.”
“Eh oh well. Anyways see you after class,” Nick started to walk on a different path. Vern continued along the one they’ve been taking. Their conversation felt different today, It wasn’t the light hearted joking bullshit that usually filled the silence as they walked. There was something else there. Vern shrugged it off, he had classes to slog through before he would even see Nick again. Their conversation could wait. Plus, maybe Brent or Sophist knew something else about it.
The alarm blared, the time displayed read 8:30, unfortunately meaning the day had begun, and slumber had ended. The sunlight begged to be let in, but the curtains at every window denied it access, keeping the room in mostly darkness—the only light being that which managed to sneak in around the corners of the curtain. As the alarm continued to beep, until finally Brent managed to dismiss it.
He sat up, still groggy from sleep with his eyes barely adjusting to the faint sunlight bleeding into his room. He sat up from his bed, the blanket which held his warmth slid off his body, now pushed to the side of his bed.
It was far too early for him, but according to his job description it was nearly time to start his job. Thirty minutes, to be exact, until his job started, but it was just at his computer and he needed some coffee to start his day.
Forcing his body out of his bed outside of his will, he made his way to the kitchen, nearly running into the peninsula. You’d think living in the same house for a year and a bit now he’d remember the layout, but muscle memory from his mom’s and not yet working brian always seems to make him forget where he actually sleeps.
He grabbed a mug from the cabinet, not really thinking when he grabbed the [insert ringe mug name idk man]. He poured a cup from the coffee he assumed Nick had made earlier that day. Maybe Nick made it an hour or two ago but honestly it was warm enough for Brent and he couldn’t be fucked to make another batch. He just prayed Eevee wouldn't need it as he poured the remaining remnants into his [] cup, or that Nick would be pissy about him stealing HIS coffee.
He gave a neutral hum as he opened Twitter. He had time before work and might as well just fuck around in the kitchen before forcing himself in his room/office for the next six hours. He pulled up a chair and took a seat, slowly sipping on the plain black coffee as he questioned what on earth people were on. He didn’t care about this villain or whatever hero shit they were on, he just wanted the latest news on [idk what Brent likes tbh, all the info I get off of him are pcpriv and theyre haters idk man kms]. He just ignored the post about whatever he deemed irrelevant and prayed that they’d go away. When, in those few minutes, they didn’t, he just sighed and gave up.
He put his head down on the table, casting the cup of coffee off to the side for a bit. [insert something about his job idc decide wtf software engineers do and if he game debugs or what idk]
Then those familiar footsteps echoed through the hallway connecting all the bedrooms.[eh im too lazy to write this, sophist walks in ig]
“Wow you’re up early” - B
“You’re also up,” Eevee took a second, really noticing now how [IDK BRENTS DEAD KMS], “kinda.”
“Yeah but I have a real job”
“Being a youtuber is a really hard job, yk”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Brent replied, now finally lifting his head up and taking another sip of coffee. Eevee, who typically wasn’t even awake for another 3 hours, was oddly put together. He had a nice shirt on, hair well combed and maybe some product in there. “Why are you all dressed up? It’s like 6 a.m. for you.”
“Got some collab with people in shitty time zones, forced to have a face cam too so might as well look half-decent.” Brent only gave a little hum to acknowledge his words, afterwards taking another sip of coffee from his mug. The silence felt awkward, different from the usual calming silence in the morning Brent grew accustomed to. In the absence of Vern and Nick, leaving for their education and job respectively, and Eevee still—typically—sleeping away in his bed, the silence of the morning was comforting, almost reminding him of his college life or when he lived with his mom.
Today, he lacked that comfort, now replaced with Eevee, visibly uncomfortable. His eyes wandered around the marble table, refusing to look any higher. His hands fidgeted with each other, and Brent could hear his feet tapping on the metal support on the chair. The room was dark, too, only adding to the discomfort. No light but the one directly above the peninsula illuminated the room. Brent never turned another one on in the morning.
“You got any plans?” Eevee finally ended the horrible awkwardness which surrounded the two. “No, not really,” was Brent’s only response. It was true, he didn’t. He had no plans to leave the house for weeks. Though with the dry response the pair fell into silence again. Brent wanted to avoid it now, instead opting to reopen Twitter in hope another five minutes would fix his boring timeline.
It did, finally. Soon, finally, Sophist got the hint and opened his phone too. The duo now sat like this, neither talking but both scrolling on the same app. It was still awkward, yet neither did anything to fix the situation.
Finally salvation came when Brent noticed the time ticked over to 8:58. He finally had an excuse to leave this awkward hell he found himself in. It wasn’t anything about Eevee, he loved the guy, but this morning everything just felt off.
He shut the door to his room, paying extra attention to not have it make a sound. He sat down at his desk, turning on his computer for the first time today, before quickly getting to work.
