No title available
if i look back, i am lost
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
One Nice Bug Per Day
wallacepolsom
No title available
Peter Solarz
pixel skylines
Kiana Khansmith
⁂
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Not today Justin
No title available
blake kathryn
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Xuebing Du
occasionally subtle
★
trying on a metaphor
Cosimo Galluzzi
seen from Germany
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Singapore
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from South Korea
@arclightwrites
Wrote a short little Zelda thing
Not a specific world, but just playing with the nature of a world that knows its stuck in a cycle. If from the perspective of you, playing as zelda.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
read it, pleeeeaaasseee
read it wise
read it power
read it courage
is that anything, did i do a good promotion of material to improve readership of material?
Buried Avatar? In my fanfiction?
Its more likely than you think.
I wrote a new fanfiction, playing with themes of the lonely, the extinction, and most importantly to the many who have talked about dirt underrepresentation, the buried.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I do warn, there is some suicidal ideation/a descriptor of a failed attempt. It plays in the typical of the magnus archives but still.
NEW UPDATE
as many of you note I before have released two distinct magnus archive statement fics.
and I have done it again, READ DO
READ NOW https://archiveofourown.org/works/72046726
this one is playing with the combination of the corruption and the eye. (and slightly more)
so, as before go read, go read all of the series here https://archiveofourown.org/series/5176431 and enjoy the Cassandra Evergreen's show.
and dont worry about the metaplot, dont worry
NEW UPDATE
as many of you note I before have released two distinct magnus archive statement fics.
and I have done it again, READ DO
READ NOW https://archiveofourown.org/works/72046726
this one is playing with the combination of the corruption and the eye. (and slightly more)
so, as before go read, go read all of the series here https://archiveofourown.org/series/5176431 and enjoy the Cassandra Evergreen's show.
and dont worry about the metaplot, dont worry
another magnus archive original statement
this one titled "Extinction predator" I think you can guess which fear entities it is playing with
go read it on A03 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/70865116
also the cat will be fine, you should worry about the cat for other reasons though
I DID A FANFIC
https://archiveofourown.org/works/70346851
its done in the style of a Magnus archive statement, GO READ IT NOW.
As this man/woman/other editor i Am so happy to finally see them write again dear lord.
a princess who was cursed to be a monster and her servants who were transformed into living statures are shocked to find the youngest son of the neighboring noble standing at their gate sporting some nasty bruises.
That morning the bog had been horribly beautiful, as it always was.
Statues of retainers, knights, beasts of burden and beast of beauty, darted the waters. Most of them half sunken in the water, perfectly preserved in various moments as the bog and time refused to eat away at them. Their regal forms was interpreted as mockery, by the princess, “How noble was your world before, such beauty innate in its form, SEE HOW YOU RUINED IT!.” was the message she read into their placement. Mists would clear around the statues around the statues, framing them against the fog. Fireflies darted about, their light gleaming of and highlighting the marble figures. She would describe the bog as sublime, if she had not actually had to live in it.
She slept in a hut of her own construction, she would fell the trees and shake the firmament in her pain fueled rage, yet that would not fix her. So she had built a hut, out of reeds and wood and whatever she could find, to sleep in a place of her own construction.
She hid in that hut, she had ripped her long and sharp spike shaped claws that she’d grown, and bent them into knitting needles. The claws would regrow, she could not change her shape, but she could make, and that was something.
Every few nights she hunted, and she killed. She did not like hunting, but if she did not hunt while she was awake her body would end up dragging in and messily consuming a fresh carcass. “If its going to happen, I should at least do it conscious” she had reasoned.
As she hunted she found that she could make needles of the thinnest bones, and after she punched a hole in them with her claws. Ripping her hair from her head, which had grown to an absurd length and volume, another inconvenience, she used her hair like thread. Her hair would restore itself to its length in the morning, but she could patch her clothes and creations, and that was something.
She had been made a amalgam, a chimera, she had not realized, for the first few days, that her transformation had been finished, she had most of her head, her body was in a human like shape, her digits moved as she expected them to move, yet she was all wrong, She had scales along her ribs and thighs, along her back was fur of many types, mixed in randomly, on her arms and legs where fins that riffled at times she wished they did not, and on her hands where where Spike-like claws, and that was not all.
After a bad slip directly into the bog, she found that she could breath underwater, through gills in the center of her chest. She kept breaking things, weather her own crafts, or the branches and trunks of trees, because she was stronger than she had expected. She saw more, heard more, dealt more, her nose picked up on scents, which she could never noticed before. The strengthened sense overwhelmed her but she could sniff out flowers in the bog, and with that she
The crone watched her, she had felt the crone watching her, and the crone had gotten angry, when she first saw the rug she had knitted, and the tapestry she had made from her hair and flower dye, yet the crone held her tongue. The crone had said that the princess was a creature of her bog now, and that she would not permit her leaving. The crone had meant to strip the princess of shelter until she came to her cottage and begged for it, she did not expect her to build her own. Yet she held her tongue, for the princess had been yet to try and run.
Noon that day, three knocks came. on the side of her huts entrance. There had been no door, only a curtain, the princess perked up, but she waited, if it was the witch that crone would soon begin to scream and demand entrance, making claims that since this was her bog this was her hut. The crone could not enter without permission, and Princess had made a vow to never grant her entrance.
Three more knocks came, then silence.
. . . She remained silent, except for Labored breaths as she began working herself up, it hurt to stand. Most of the time she moved with her hands and feet, pushing off the treeline or swimming in the waters.
“Hello? Anyone home?” said a voice the princess had not heard before, yet recognized the cadence. It was a controlled voice, similar to the one she had been taught to use in the presence of other nobility.
“Come in.” She heard her voice echo, it changed along with her, it was one of the only part of the change that she liked was how her voice boomed, and her new lungs.
The voice came into the room, it belonged to a young man, wearing a sturdy leather coat and lightweight chain male, an metal circlet decorated his head,and a thinner long-sword hung by his waste.
Overall he locked worse for wear, his shoes worn by having to walk through the roots and mud, he had fallen a few times and clothes had dried badly, and his skin was covered and bruises and some mud. “Hello madam, May I ask if this is the residence of her highness Theophania, the First and sole of their line, Flower of their house?”
“Who speaks” Theophania questioned brusquelly, A few others had come to the bog before, one had attempted to slay her, the fool ended up with a claw through his skull. The second demonstrated some wits and ran she respected that one. The third proclaimed that his kiss would undo her curse.(Ahe did not know if it would have, as she refused the offer.)
“I am prince Michael, third of my line” he responded
“I am who your looking for” She spoke neutrally, and watched as a shiver went down Michael spine, “I’m curious,” she continued “How did you make past witch Ha-”
“By not mentioning her till I was 3 days into the journey and being incredibly polite and cautious when she stumbled into me.” The Prince interrupted “sorry for interrupting, from what I know she knows when her name is said.”
the princess stared at him, and furrowed her brow, “I accept your apology, now, state your purpose here with me here or get out now”
“how frank do you wish me to be, there is a lot I wish to cover.” Micheal said, which to the princess annoyance, was not him stating his purpose.
“Simply state your purpose and I will reserve the right to ask questions later.” Theophania reiterated
The prince nodded “I’ve come to ask your hand in marriage.” He stated. Then there was silence. . . .
The Princess burst out in laughter. As she was still partially haunch-ed, she rose to a full stand. A back up straight head up tall kinda stand, and raised her arms to display her full span. The prince looked short a foot when she stood tall, yet she new it was because she had grown bigger “Now this is a good one, I may ask your motivation to come and visit my humble abode?” she said with a tone she would use if she had to make fun of somebody, and did not have to worry about propriety.
He just shrugged “My family encouraged me to seek a wife.” Micheal responded in a frank tone that sounded almost chipper.
Bemused, the princess asked “you have traveled, what, 5, maybe 6 days, just to hit on me?” the princess began to laugh again, “Your funny prince, tell me, how many years has it been since I was gone, what rumors do they spread of me, and why your family ever allowed you to venture to this bog, even as a third son.” she paused for a second “in that order” the beast clarified.
“Going through the questions, A: it has been three years since you had been reported missing, B: a bard has spread the tale of a beast in the bog that needs a true loves kiss to be freed, who’s claims are dubious, reports of a nobles son claim that you had been cursed and transformed into a monster, and your father has hired a mage to scry on you, apparently, who’s reports match that of the nobles son, and C:. . . ”
He leaned in, the noble facade dropping a-little, a conspiratorial smile “okay so, your ailing father promised your hand in marriage to any who could banish the curse and save you, and as the three years by and he also proclaimed to leave the kingdom to your husband, so, if we marry, keep it a secret until your father dies, we can reveal our marriage and be the only family with an actual claim to succession in the land.” Micheal beamed, it was clear that this plan was his, and he was proud of it.
The princess scoffed “So your just a schemer, with the veneer of a prince, be gone from here, I do not wish the world to see me as the monster I am. No populace would accept a beast as a queen.
The prince seemed a little bit offended and not at all afraid “Just a schemer, please, I am not Just a schemer, along with my scheming I’m a decent swordsmen and a above average orator.” he said with a strange confidence “and don’t talk down on yourself.” he continued “With the right framing you're gorgeous, hell given a proper makeover we could convince the populace of anything. If you put on armor you could be a Courageous leader, given the right lighting you’d look divine, a gift from god. If you threw on a vale and a black dress.” he looked wistfully “I can hear those in the courts calling your beauty sublime” The prince finished.
“Pretty words” the princess admitted, “but why would I marry you, a mediocre swordsmen, a average orator, who schemes to use me for political gain”
The prince nodded “I admit I am not the greatest catch, but this is purely a political gesture, and while I would not mind being your betrothed, but I have two other unmarried brothers, my family would allow your choice among us.”
“How would you even get me out, not without the crone turning you into a newt, or some other horrid thing?” the princess asked, as a rhetorical, she wanted to end the conversation. She wanted to just sleep and rest. Her body ached and she hated that she made herself stand.
“I mentioned how I conversed with the Witch.” The schemer began “She asked me what my purpose in coming was, I said that I had come to get flowers, she asked why I had taken none, and I said that I did not wish to disturb her land without her permission. She said I could take one flower.” A sly smile crept up along his face “and if I had my choice it would be the first flower of her house”
The beast was taken aback, they had settled into their life in the bog, in the hut, they had excepted that they where never to be free from their new body, and she assumed that meant never being free from the bog. Yet she could go, she could go right now, she could go and leave this place behind. The crone was bounded by her words, and she had made it possible for Theophania to escape what bound her to the bog.”
“So” the prince finished “sublime princess of the northern kingdoms, beautiful beast of the witches land, will you come with me and escape to be my or my brothers betrothed, in a purely political, definitely non romantic marriage?”
The Princess considered for a moment, as she did silence filled the room. . . .
She, then, made her choice.
Another great one from my main man, but Im putting and I’ve made her promise to do a sequel if this reaches 50 notes
Ps- @writing-prompt-s he still want you to see their work please, shes ranting in the night about how it’s a conspiracy against them specifically and im begging to worry
Aight guys, who should I write down traits/headcanons about next on my writing blog @energys-writing-corner-ig ?
dun dun dun, who's lists is next?
Alice
Amda
Beau
Braidon
Braxton
Darren
Emily
Frank
Grant
Kelsey Day
Makarov
Penny
Don't worry, I will be getting to every character I can! And feel free to send me your headcanons for characters over on my writing blog, @energys-writing-corner-ig , via asks or DMs! I may steal them, be warned, but I will try to credit you if I can. Some characters I will get around to regardless, those characters aren't gonna be in the polls on the matter
Reblogs also welcome btw!
Lookin' like it'll be the crazy southern but we're still early in the poll! Starting to wonder if I should've made it a day instead of a week...
Alice is at 50% already, wow! I'm getting the feeling I'm gonna have to do her next out of my currently-unplanned characters lol
60% for Alice on this now lol
I have the feeling Alice is gonna win lol - we'll see tho
Id ask, that you do it by story perspective, see what you want to wright and do that
Main blog is @energylessartist
Idk how to write so expect a lot of bs
This exists cuz I wanna write an au eventually and all I know is I want Jhad for some reason in it
Plz help me lol
Might redesign some characters a bit - V and J first tho probably
New blog guys! Because I don't have enough, clearly XD
I wanna start trying to write an MD AU and idk where to start and I want Jhad in it (cuz it's funny to me, screw off [affectionate]), and it was suggested maybe I start with oneshots for the Jhad stuff lol
Oh right - @cactusthedragon @the-courts-goblin-mage @canadiannationalfox @rubydrake3 you're the writers I'm most comfortable @'ing on here - plz send me advice to my writing blog lol, anything will do TwT
I shall send my editor your way
Alright sounds good 👍
I am broke tho-
Listen, if i see a typo i’ll fix it, or just shoot me a story for feedback, while ill accept a donation ill give it a once over, i dont have much else to do
please no halloween posts just yet. there’s still 2 months left
did someone say halloween
Nine years and it’s still not at 1 million notes. I know we can do better!
Let’s see if we can get this to 1M before the 10 year anniversary on the 3rd.
please no halloween posts just yet. there’s still 2 months left
did someone say halloween
Nine years and it’s still not at 1 million notes. I know we can do better!
Let’s see if we can get this to 1M before the 10 year anniversary on the 3rd.
Names have power, and power is determined at birth. Orcs and humans generally have one name, elves and dwarves have two for magical gifts, but you were just told by your parents you have three…
Smoke Fog-gem was a tyrant, and a dragon, and a creature of the swamps.
three more things about Smoke, was that he had three names, He was a Traditionalist, and he had a son.
Names were stored in the soul, when given a name, a aspect is assumed by said name, and Smoke had a name set for his son.
Fog Gem-Grove, Smokes own name, but shuffled, and changed, as Smoke Fog-Gem came from Gem Smoke-soul.
While Fog Gem-Grove was the name given to Smokes son, Smoke knew, trickery was afoot.
Mouth left open wide, Smoke on the shore of his bog, Human servants, fluttered like hummingbirds, cleaning the teeth of Smoke. Convenient those humans where, could get in between the cracks.(and they served as snacks in a pinch, albeit not very filling ones.)
Smoke watched Fog Swim towards Him, large wings pushing against the current, allowing the young dragon to glide along the swamp, like a hot knife though hot butter.
Smoke watched his son approached, sure, you could see the scales and wings, and Fog had the breath his family was known for, the mist that trailed from his mouth was visible on a warm day, but instead of the noxious gas it smelled of flowers, and from what smoke had seen, something else had been imbued into it.
“SON!” Smoke said, snapping his teeth with little regard to the workers, who (luckily) where only sent tumbling back in visible fear. They of course, did not understand draconic, they only heard the roar of a monster.
“Please be more gentle around them, pa” Fog said, in Human, either to spite Smoke or to ease the little retainers. “Those delicate creatures are valuable, you wouldn’t bite a piece of your hoard, now would you?”
Smoke Growled and ran their talons along the muddy waters, feeling the gemstones he intermingled within his swamp, a layer of protection, as you would have to go 5 feet down into the mud, after going past 10 feet of water, more secure than the hoard of Smokes Father, who’s coins now serve as currency for the seven kingdoms.
Smoke started, in a low breathy voice, and in human as well “Their my servants, not yours, and if you came all this way just to criticize me I would ask you find some other place, with a hoard big enough to sustain yourself”
Smoke could almost feel the static coming from the stare of Fog, Electric scales was one of his mothers gifts, a gift Smoke sculpted from Fogs name.
Yet his son had it, and not just that, Fogs breath could channel said gift, in the way his mother predicted that it could, every pulse of static, every blast of pressure imbued with that charge was another reminder of the smug face that he tried to kill all those years ago.
“I did not come to insult you, pa, I came to gloat” Fog said this time, in draconic, “how much have you been paying attention to your servants?” he asked
Smoke Snorted in bemused annoyance “I thought you said this wasn’t about the servants?”
“I never said that” fog continued “all I’m asking, is that over the years, did you notice that the humans quality of attire improved drastically, or that they have all been showing up to work at the same time?”
“Where are you going with this, child” said Smoke through a deep breath outwards, sending out a green mist, traced with things that would kill if not avoided.
“look at them” fog asked
The two dragons turned towards the servants, who in the past would have used wet cloth, or maybe a leather mask. and they put on masts, but different masks, masks made for filtering Smokes breath.
“-and you made these… masks, and clothes, built a boat big enough to carry my workers to this shore?” smoke asked, eyebrow raised. Fog chuckled “oh, no I didn’t need, I took what you gave me to start a hoard, and i invested it, systems of ferries, between villages, clothes and food and even something called a Locomotive, if you heard that rumbling, and that chu chu sound from all the way down here, I simply gave what I had to the people, and in return they improved themselves”
Smoke took a minute to process his sons words, he began, Roaring “You Wasted the Riches I Gave to You on These HAIRLESS APES, you squandered MY gems to give them a Better Meal or two?” Smoke Raised a talon, slamming it back down onto surface, causing the ground to split “I AUGHT TO-”
Fog raised up their wings, the air crackled mist flowed like a river out of the edges of fogs mouth “careful, you do not yet know the gambit I have made, If you think I’m soft that’s fine, but don’t call me a fool”
Smoke settled back into the water “you have one chance to explain yourself child” Fog nodded again “I did not claim those gems as my hoard, i claimed the people I gave them to, or more accurately, The land of the people i gave it to, This bog, is my wealth, its flowers my gems, its people my coins, as I invest into the growing industries and populace the populace puts it back into itself”
Fog took a moment to breath, cleaning out the bad air for the servants, “along with that because I provide for the towns, they work for me, they preserve what I ask them to, they make gardens of lotus, they grow beautiful fields of mangrove, they work for a old dragon despite every reason not to”
Fog took a moment to smile into Smokes eyes, a smile that served a similar function, of manipulation and doubt, that crocodile tears did “a hoard, that will, all on its lonesome, sustain itself, defend itself, and grow itself. Where the worries of thieves, both in form of kings and crooks, are just gone.”
“You put your life in the hands of immaterial creatures child, Ive heard of dragons ruling over dwarves, and elves, creatures with lifespans, of hundreds of years, maybe more, a small decline in birth rate now weakens you, maybe for years, do you think you have solved the Paradox? That we need a hoard to live, but the hoard attracts those that will kill us? You have done nothing, but allow more of the issues of men to harm you, plague, war, just the movement of men” Smoke snorted “you really are a fool, granted, not a thoughtless one, but still…”
no, smoke thought, whatever name that child had, it was not the name he gave him, maybe his mothers hoard still somehow prospered, maybe she had an agent who stayed loyal after her demise, but either way, Fog swam away, of to deal with his little people, and Smoke opened his mouth, on the banks of the shore
the end
also, by the way, to that one guy/gal/nonbinary pal, this is a sequal
@energylessartist for you, apparently
“There is a certain amount of caffeine that induces cardiac arrest. I have found that amount and removed a single nanogram from it. This is, mathematically, the strongest coffee in existence.”
“Each body is different, and we did not want a lawsuit on our hands. I forgot those two when pitching this idea.
I had not created the strongest cup of coffee that wouldn’t kill somebody, I had created the strongest cup of coffee that wouldn’t kill ME. The fault with that train of logic would be obvious if you knew about my drinking habits. (I mean drinking copious amounts of coffee. Just so, so much coffee. Safe to say I was the exact kind of person was the exact kind of person you’d imagine creating the Megacaffinator.)
However, after a few adjustments, and changing the product pitch from the store shelves to a once in a lifetime experience, I managed to get the sign-off in this very office, and development began.
The developmental stages where tough, as the development of various "edging towards the end of the mortal coil” experiences are. many points of breaking where found, from inaccurate readings by the Prototype scanner, to failures with the dispersal mechanism, to unavoidable things, like anxiety disorders, consumption of food, and explosions, all of which would change the expected heart rate of the subject.
After the deaths of countless death row inmates, 4 college student volunteers, and at least one hamster, the project seemed like a bust, but, fellow researcher Mrs, Carisson’s(also known as my loser of a sister) made a breakthrough, along the lines of “Nobody gonna be able to tell the difference if we removed two nanograms instead of one.” and that extra wiggle room allowed the first successful full Megacaffeine procedure, where the recipient was scanned, received, and consumed the most amount of Caffeine possible, minus one nanogram.
Six years ago, we set up the first Megacaffinator booth in new York, that same day we made 13 million dollars, and soon after Megacaffinator and Megacaffeine could be found all around the world.
Three years ago I was fired, after learning what my sister did to MY VISION, I quit. I quit!. “Why?” you may ask? BECAUSE I DID NOT PITCH, A PRODUCT TWO NANO-GRAMS OFF FROM CAFFEINATED PERFECTION AND I WOULDN’T STAND THE TAINTING OF MY IDEAL, ONE NANO-GRAM WAS A COMPROMISE ENOUGH!!!!!!!!!!!
anyways, as I continue, what I have here in my hands is the patent for a machine that says it “releases one less nanogram than the amount of caffeine it would require to kill your body”, filed by one Mrs, Carisson, that kind of messaging is common on ads for the Megacaffinator, would be a shame if certain agencies learned the truth of the mater
AHH! AND LOOK AT THIS, a patent for a machine that brings you 100 pictograms off from the caffeine cardiac arrest point!(google pictogram to nanogram ration) Wouldn’t we all hate, if Hypercoffee, your main competitor got this, the same competitor who’s sole disadvantage has been having to be within 3 nano-grams instead of 2?!
So lets make a deal, boss man, can we come to an accord? I want my job back, I want a blank check for my next project, and I want a certain somebody off of the team"
what do you say
—–>
press enter when completed
enter (great work Ez, lets keep it up)
“A what?” “A dragon.” “I can’t just-” “You said I could reincarnate as any living thing.” “Yes… But dragons are fantasy in your world! That means you’d have all your prior memories since you’d exist outside the laws of nature!” “Even better!”
“You don’t understand” the light said, the silhouette it took rubbed its temples “you would, or more accurately, you would have your memories transferred, but not your direct conscience.”
The soul furrowed its brow “explain.”
The light sighed “okay, you don’t remember everything all at once, you never did, neither will this dragon, your new brain will find that it has muscle memory and flashes of a time that it never new.”
The light tried to mimic the mannerisms or mentors and teachers it had seen “you would remember this conversation, but it wouldn’t feel like your memory.”
The light put the hand of its avatar on the soul’s shoulder “we both know you, imagine a world where you where randomly getting relatively detailed flashes of a hyper-advanced world, we both know what kind of damage you could do with that.”
“Hmm” the soul nodded, it understood the concern, and while it refused to see what the light was saying as concerning, the soul empathized, how rough it must be, for that being, having to interact with the soul relatively frequently.
“Now imagine that damage scaled to the power of a dragon you.” The light continued.
“You do not need to worry my all powerful freind.” The soul started “I’ve imagined myself as a dragon many times.”
The soul nodded and stared off into space, the light contemplated the possibility of a divine triptan to be made as an answer to the oncoming divine headache.
“I have a very specific plan for these world, if you wish to be a dragon there are some terms and conditions I must have you agree to, before i allow you to enter the door behind me and reincarnate” the light said.
The soul nodded eagerly and tip toed up to see over the lights shoulders, eyeing the golden door with a concerning passion.
“So you do not destroy the design i shall have you sign a contract,” the light turned around and looked through its heavenly cabinets by their heavenly desk, it took the light a minute but it found the contract it was looking for “this is a magically binding agreement, so you don’t sully, stupefy or-“
A slam was heard from the door to reincarnation
The light blinked for a few silent seconds.
The light in its divine wisdom whispered a divine truth under it’s breath “That fucking soul, why must I keep getting played for a fool.”
End
How did i do @writing-prompt-s did i capture the vision?
(Please respond to me you didn’t respond to my last one and I need validation
Wew that’s a good story. Part 2 when?
(I doubt they’ll respond, is my validation enough?)
I think it was, i know them in real life
Awesome :3
Ask them when part 2 is coming out?
as their editor, I know they don’t have plans, but ill let them know that your ask was not just a joke.
Yeah, I enjoyed the story and would like to see more
hmm, they have their notifications off, so I'll talk to them, I do like that story.
“A what?” “A dragon.” “I can’t just-” “You said I could reincarnate as any living thing.” “Yes… But dragons are fantasy in your world! That means you’d have all your prior memories since you’d exist outside the laws of nature!” “Even better!”
“You don’t understand” the light said, the silhouette it took rubbed its temples “you would, or more accurately, you would have your memories transferred, but not your direct conscience.”
The soul furrowed its brow “explain.”
The light sighed “okay, you don’t remember everything all at once, you never did, neither will this dragon, your new brain will find that it has muscle memory and flashes of a time that it never new.”
The light tried to mimic the mannerisms or mentors and teachers it had seen “you would remember this conversation, but it wouldn’t feel like your memory.”
The light put the hand of its avatar on the soul’s shoulder “we both know you, imagine a world where you where randomly getting relatively detailed flashes of a hyper-advanced world, we both know what kind of damage you could do with that.”
“Hmm” the soul nodded, it understood the concern, and while it refused to see what the light was saying as concerning, the soul empathized, how rough it must be, for that being, having to interact with the soul relatively frequently.
“Now imagine that damage scaled to the power of a dragon you.” The light continued.
“You do not need to worry my all powerful freind.” The soul started “I’ve imagined myself as a dragon many times.”
The soul nodded and stared off into space, the light contemplated the possibility of a divine triptan to be made as an answer to the oncoming divine headache.
“I have a very specific plan for these world, if you wish to be a dragon there are some terms and conditions I must have you agree to, before i allow you to enter the door behind me and reincarnate” the light said.
The soul nodded eagerly and tip toed up to see over the lights shoulders, eyeing the golden door with a concerning passion.
“So you do not destroy the design i shall have you sign a contract,” the light turned around and looked through its heavenly cabinets by their heavenly desk, it took the light a minute but it found the contract it was looking for “this is a magically binding agreement, so you don’t sully, stupefy or-“
A slam was heard from the door to reincarnation
The light blinked for a few silent seconds.
The light in its divine wisdom whispered a divine truth under it’s breath “That fucking soul, why must I keep getting played for a fool.”
End
How did i do @writing-prompt-s did i capture the vision?
(Please respond to me you didn’t respond to my last one and I need validation
Wew that’s a good story. Part 2 when?
(I doubt they’ll respond, is my validation enough?)
I think it was, i know them in real life
Awesome :3
Ask them when part 2 is coming out?
as their editor, I know they don't have plans, but ill let them know that your ask was not just a joke.
“A what?” “A dragon.” “I can’t just-” “You said I could reincarnate as any living thing.” “Yes… But dragons are fantasy in your world! That means you’d have all your prior memories since you’d exist outside the laws of nature!” “Even better!”
“You don’t understand” the light said, the silhouette it took rubbed its temples “you would, or more accurately, you would have your memories transferred, but not your direct conscience.”
The soul furrowed its brow “explain.”
The light sighed “okay, you don’t remember everything all at once, you never did, neither will this dragon, your new brain will find that it has muscle memory and flashes of a time that it never new.”
The light tried to mimic the mannerisms or mentors and teachers it had seen “you would remember this conversation, but it wouldn’t feel like your memory.”
The light put the hand of its avatar on the soul’s shoulder “we both know you, imagine a world where you where randomly getting relatively detailed flashes of a hyper-advanced world, we both know what kind of damage you could do with that.”
“Hmm” the soul nodded, it understood the concern, and while it refused to see what the light was saying as concerning, the soul empathized, how rough it must be, for that being, having to interact with the soul relatively frequently.
“Now imagine that damage scaled to the power of a dragon you.” The light continued.
“You do not need to worry my all powerful freind.” The soul started “I’ve imagined myself as a dragon many times.”
The soul nodded and stared off into space, the light contemplated the possibility of a divine triptan to be made as an answer to the oncoming divine headache.
“I have a very specific plan for these world, if you wish to be a dragon there are some terms and conditions I must have you agree to, before i allow you to enter the door behind me and reincarnate” the light said.
The soul nodded eagerly and tip toed up to see over the lights shoulders, eyeing the golden door with a concerning passion.
“So you do not destroy the design i shall have you sign a contract,” the light turned around and looked through its heavenly cabinets by their heavenly desk, it took the light a minute but it found the contract it was looking for “this is a magically binding agreement, so you don’t sully, stupefy or-“
A slam was heard from the door to reincarnation
The light blinked for a few silent seconds.
The light in its divine wisdom whispered a divine truth under it’s breath “That fucking soul, why must I keep getting played for a fool.”
End
How did i do @writing-prompt-s did i capture the vision?
(Please respond to me you didn’t respond to my last one and I need validation
Wew that’s a good story. Part 2 when?
(I doubt they’ll respond, is my validation enough?)
I think it was, i know them in real life
The abandoned child you’ve taken in sleeps on your lap as the god who gave you immortality softly warns you. “This will hurt.”
“You don’t have to say that every time y’know” you said while in the kitchen, slicing up fresh cucumbers from the garden.
The gods are quiet, for a moment at least, “but it will, we do not lie, we cannot lie”
You examine your shelves, looking for the salt, the crunchy kind, you find various in the shelves as you actually try, such is the magic of this place
“Yes” you say “but aint like I don’t know that” you salt the cucumbers, each of the many slices with various salts “and saying it only serves to worry one silly”
You hear a stirring in the living room, and a great big yawn
“the child is young” you say, “and if they ain’t magic already they’ll be by the time they’re gone leave” sounds of tumbling out of the couch come from behind you, and after that a great big yawn
“most of these kids last about what, 60 years once their gone?, and it’s not like this ones leaving any time soon”
You feel a tug at your sundress child, with big poofy hair, and sleepy eyes, and large limbs for a very small child
“What is it” your voice is warm, and caring
“hungry” the child says,
You knew they would be, they had and would always be after a nap, you poured some sauces into little saucers, and think to yourself about how the name fits well there.
The kid scampers. Up onto a chair, and their eyes poke above the table, you lay down a cutting board, full of giant cucumbers sliced, and salted, the kid looks at them for a second, quizzical, they pick up a slice, you point to a sauce, and the kid figures out the rest, taking large dips and big bites
“But they will die” the gods say “and you ignore that”
The kid tries dipping another slice of cucumber, when he pulls the cucumber back he just looks at it, he tries dipping again, it is to no avail.
“And you ignore it,” a precious pause “how, how do you move so slowly”
The kid begins to get up but you stop him, “I’ll make some more” you say, he looks at you, nods, which you have picked up on being his way of saying thanks. you go to the kitchen with the saucer, and he scrambles back up onto a chair
In the kitchen you get the ingredients, and you mix them, you put more honey that you should have in the last batch, you make the same mistake again, as it is the reason the child likes the sauce,
“It becomes a flash ”, the many gods say, the many gods that were like you, “it begins to blend together, it begins to go faster and faster”
You return with more of the sauce, the kid takes it eagerly, he continues to dip
“And eventually stop, we just stop, so how, how how how how how how are you still here, how do you survive the moments?”
The kid looks down and notices where a cucumber was it now wasn’t, he looks up, “I took one, chefs tax”
The kid speaks “it was the small one, why’d take it?”
You smile for the kid, and shake your head at the gods, you answer both questions
“Its enough for me” you say
@writing-prompt-s
Hope you like it
