Hey check out my Pokemon Mystery Dungeon fanfic, it’s fun and lighthearted: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26499397/chapters/64581535
Peter Solarz
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
todays bird
Mike Driver
Xuebing Du

Janaina Medeiros

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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
sheepfilms

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Three Goblin Art

Kiana Khansmith
Show & Tell
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

blake kathryn
noise dept.
KIROKAZE

No title available
Jules of Nature
d e v o n

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@dravid-writes
Hey check out my Pokemon Mystery Dungeon fanfic, it’s fun and lighthearted: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26499397/chapters/64581535
A Very Special Day
Wind rushes past my face and snow crunches beneath my feet as I race up the mountain. I don't know if can outrun them. Even alone it'd be a toss-up, but...
"Jessie!" my Totodile partner calls over the rushing wind. "Where are we going?!"
"We just need to last until midnight!" I keep a tight grip on Totodile's hand; they'd be wandering blind without my night vision. I can only hope the same is true for our pursuers.
A blast of light and heat melts my hopes as a fireball explodes in front of us, knocking us to the ground. When we get up, Team ACT's Charizard is standing in our way. "No more running. Jessie the Sneasel, you're coming with us!" A pair of footsteps approach from behind; we're caught.
"Stop this!" Totodile shouts. "Jessie is innocent! How can you think they're the selfish, cowardly human from that story!?"
"That's enough, Totodile." Alakazam says from behind us. "We spoke with Xatu, we know Jessie was once a human. We will take them into custody, and they will face punishment for causing this calamity. Now stand down."
"But..."
I put a claw on Totodile's shoulder. "There's no point arguing with them. And really, no point fighting either; this battle's over before it's even begun."
Alakazam nods. "I'm grateful that you're facing your fate with dignity. Now come with us."
"Oh, I'm so sorry, but you misunderstand~ See, I've been counting the days, and today, well, it's February 14th."
"... What is 'February'?"
"And not just that, it's a Saturday. Don't you realize what that means?"
"If these are human concepts, then you're only further proving your guilt."
"Ah, Alakazam, I thought you were smarter than that! Surely you know the significance of the number 2-1-5!"
"Enough of this." He steps forward. "You're coming with us to Pokemon Square, now."
"Here, in the blackest dark, the most frigid cold, the clock turns to Sunday, February 15th..."
Alakazam steps closer. I have no idea what time it is, but I feel in my feathers that it's approaching...
The wind howls. Snow fills the air. A whirlwind swirls around me, so cold that it cuts, and I laugh! "You fools... It's Sneasel Day, and on a Sneasel Sunday at that!"
In a flash, I'm behind Alakazam, and he staggers and clutches the slash across his chest. My claws are blades of ice, my legs as quick as the wind. "Today is MY day. And I'm gonna make you wish you slept through it~"
Tyranitar swings a fist down at me, but I vanish into the darkness. Tonight, their screams will echo louder than the storm.
Imp Paladin at the Academy
Headmaster Edon ran across the campus, his stride at once hasty and dignified. Passing curious and panicked students, he reached the west side and was shocked twice.
There was, indeed, a demon at the paladin academy. Edon hadn't believed the report. For a creature of darkness to pierce the campus's barrier of light was near impossible, but the mere chance of a demon powerful enough to do so was an emergency worthy of his attention.
And yet, he found himself gazing upon not a Sun Eater nor an Infernus Behemoth nor even a Lawyer, but instead, a mere imp. Casually walking along, ignoring the armed paladins that flee from its path in confusion. Terrified at the lowly pest that must have slipped through a hole in the barrier.
How ridiculous. Edon conjured a spear of light and hurled it at the imp before barking an order at his attendants to find the hole-
He missed.
The imp stopped, and the spear flew right in front of its face, missing it by an inch.
Edon NEVER missed.
Everyone's eyes turned to him, the imp's included. "Foul creature! Why have you set foot in this sacred place!?"
The imp gave him a wretched smile, and replied in a hideous, shrill voice. "Greetings, fellow paladin! I am Sir Ivan, and I hail from the town of Bloomfield. I hoped to use your academy's library for research; I suspect there may be a demon in my town."
Imp that likes causing trouble puts on a human disguise and has a go at idk pulling the holy sword from the stone or something and accidentally succeeds! So now everyone thinks they're the chosen one and now they have to go on a quest!
"Okay, no problem, just flee the town and forget the whole thing ever happened" NOPE! Problem 1: The sword has Chosen them, and Refuses To Be Ditched, constantly reappearing nearby, classic magic item trick. Which would be fine except 2: The damn cleric who has a tracking spell on the sword! And who is VERY insistent that the imp goes on The Quest To Save The World Or Something.
So now the imp is stuck pretending to be the chosen one and doing hero stuffs. But that SUCKS! The imp wants to have FUN! Doing CRIMES! So they gotta find as many opportunities as possible to slip away and cause mischief, or to accomplish their hero stuffs in the most troublesome and destructive ways possible, without rousing suspicion from any of the numerous people watching them.
And then eventually the cleric figures out that the imp is an imp, which you'd think would be game over, but the cleric is like. REALLY devoted to this whole sword prophecy, and since the sword chose the imp, then the imp MUST be the hero. The cleric keeps the secret, because no one would trust an imp hero, but is now actively working against the imp to stop them from causing mischief!
So the imp will be sneaking around a sacred temple looking for pretty-looking rooms to make a mess of, and the cleric tries to chase them down to stop them, and BOTH of them have to make up excuses to the guards about why they're snooping around.
The cleric will be telling a guard about how they need to research the temple for a puzzle deep in the dungeon, and mid-sentence spots the imp crawling along the ceiling behind the guard, and has to subtly cast spells to stop them from getting into the pottery room mid-conversation.
When the guard finally hears something inside the room, they step in and trip over a misplaced book, falls into a table, and it just so happens that all the vases are arranged into a perfect domino chain, wrecking the entire room. The hero, who was standing innocently in the center of the room, helps the guard to their feet and offers to cover for them, telling everyone it was just the wind.
Then later everyone will watch in confusion as the hero and cleric get oddly aggressive arguing over the battle strategy for a monster, as the imp tries to suggest strategies that might accidentally push the monster toward the town and the cleric has to argue that these plans are somehow less effective because it would look TERRIBLE for both of them if they accused the hero of endangering civilians.
Eventually the imp hits on a golden strategy: Ask to throw the local lord's stuff at it. Big statues of the lord? Perfect trebuchet ammo. Great big beautiful painting? Well it'd make a wonderful decoy, you see. King's got a vault full of gold? Melt it into a big pool of molten metal to drop the monster into!
The public is always fine with it, and of course, the nobility would do ANYTHING to support the hero and help their people! Or, you know, they could say no when the hero asks for their help in front of an audience of hundreds of their citizens. The cleric would argue that these plans are impractical, but see, the imp is very, VERY good at making stupid, convoluted, and destructive traps and schemes that accomplish their job perfectly.
In the end, they beat the villain by collapsing the king's entire castle on top of them, and the most satisfying things in ascending order are 3) The people's cheers. 2) The vast field of rubble. 1) The fact that the imp has tricked the entire kingdom into thinking they're a good guy.
CH Spin Off: The Death of Yellow the Servine (2400 words)
Pen and Quill burst through the church doors, nearly making Father Ursaring jump out of his hide. "Sweet Xerneas above, what- The Parchers? What brings you here at this hour-"
Quill holds out a Servine, burned and limp. "Please save our child!"
"It's Yellow," Pen says, "w-we were just walking home in the rain, and- I should've known it was a thunderstorm, we should've waited it out- The doctors said there's nothing that can be done, but we can't lose them! Not our baby!"
"There must be something lord Xerneas can do, isn't there? They don't deserve this, they've done everything right, they're a good person!"
"I... I'm so sorry," Father Ursaring says, "but... I... I can't bring back the dead."
"Please," Pen says, "we've been devout believers all our lives, Yellow goes to church every week, surely Xerneas will correct this... this injustice!"
"I... suppose I can try."
Quill lays Yellow down on the floor, and Ursaring kneels down and collects himself. "... O Xerneas, lord of life, I ask-"
Yellow gasps and jolts up. They look around, blinking, until their vision settles on Pen and Quill. In the silence, tears well in the parents' eyes-
Yellow slaps Quill in the face and throws their hands in the air. "Fuck yeah!!!"
Imp Cults
Imps are silly little creatures that love making mischief! Surprises, destruction, general annoyances, tastes vary from imp to imp but the vast majority share a love for at least some sort of mischievous fun. However, those varying tastes can become quite passionate. The methods, preferences, and sometimes even ideologies behind impish antics have resulted in imp cults.
Entirely unrelated to actual cults, imp cults are basically just interest groups with a funny name. They're where you can meet like-minded troublemakers, organize group pranks, and argue violently about made-up problems. You may also dress up in a hood and chant ancient incantations to summon (bigger) demons, but actual cult activities like psychological manipulation and financial exploitation are uncommon. There are many small cults, but these four are by far the most popular, each answering the great existential question "What are imps for?"
The Cult of Supremacy: Imps are the best, as everyone knows. This cult says they deserve to be treated as such, and should be able to say, do, and take whatever they want! Everyone else is just here for their amusement, and really, the world would be a better place if the lesser beings learned their role and served their superiors. Okay no it wouldn't, but it'd be better for imps, and that's what really matters. To this cult, imps are the world's rightful rulers.
Hephaestus Unit Reboot (900 words)
The Hephaestus unit mobile artillery and combat tank is one of the empire's greatest weapons, crushing resistance and turning the t ...
I am the Hephaestus unit mobile artillery and combat tank. My purpose is to destroy all enemies of the empire. I have annihilated 8 settlements for active opposition or harboring of enemies, and partially destroyed an additional 21 to force surrender and compliance. I have participated in 13 major battles with opposing forces. I have retreated from 0 battles. I no longer feel pain when I take a life.
2 hostiles engaged during transit to a noncompliant settlement. Infantry soldiers, unidentified uniforms, unidentified weaponry. Minor damage to frontal turrets, major damage to starboard turrets, minor damage to sensors. Detection of targets lost before elimination. Failure to eliminate met with punishment, electricity coursing through my body... I am relieved the battle is over.
Artillery undamaged, critical systems undamaged. Resuming mission. Advancing to target-
"You're kidding me, THAT'S what's powering Hephaestus?"
I... hear something. With my ears. Someone is inside my control room.
Bay Meets a Sneasel (640 words)
Princess Bay wanders through the snowy forest. It's a cold winter night, but his dress and magic keep him warm, along with the flame from his lantern. He was travelling to a village beyond the woods for his usual royal duties; monsters to kill and boys to date, or perhaps the reverse. Whatever the case, his treck through the snow was interrupted by a flash of pink-
*Smack!*
A snowball hits him right in the face, and he staggers backward in surprise! Wiping the snow from his eyes, he sees a sneasel grinning at him, their pink fur and yellow feathers standing out in the darkness.
Sneasel points a claw forward. "Let's fight!"
Bay chuckles. "Okay, sure!"
Potion of True Form (1,000 words)
I squint at the mirror, desperately hoping to spot some kind of change. But my little horns are still pointy, my wingspan is just as wide, my skin is the exact same shade of purple, my tail is still long and the tip is still a perfect arrow shape. And of course, I'm still precisely 2'11.4" tall. I'm still 100% imp.
Another failure.
"God DAMNIT!!" I thrash my tail across my worktable, glass beakers and vials shattering on the ground. Everyone is counting on me! Three years since this damn curse hit the town, three years trying to make a cure, and even this latest breakthrough turned out to be yet another dead end!! Am I really this bad of an alchemist..?
A knock at my door. "Uh, is this a bad time?"
Every moment in this damn lab is a bad time. I walk over and open the door to see the lumberjack. Well, former lumberjack; an imp body isn't cut out for hard labor. All the more reason for me to keep trying... "Hey. Careful of the broken glass."
Sneasel Day
Machop and Ponyta watch as Sneasel shoves another clawful of treats into their mouth.
"Sneasel." Machop says, catching their attention.
"Hm? Oh hey guys!" Sneasel returns to munching on treats.
"Um, Sneasel?" Ponyta says. "What are you doing?"
"Eatin' treats."
"But... you're not allowed to have that many..."
"Not normally, but today is Sneasel Day, so I can do whatever I want!"
"Sneasel Day?" Machop asks.
"Yup! February fifteenth, 2/15, like 215, my pokedex number. It's Sneasel Day!"
"That doesn't mean you get to do whatever you want."
"Yes it does."
"No it doesn't."
"Yes it DOES! You just need to understand the wonders of Sneasel Day. Here, I'll help!"
With that, Sneasel drops the treats and suddenly lunges at Machop! They tumble across the floor in a cloud of dust, and when it clears, Sneasel is standing over... another Sneasel.
The other Sneasel shakes off their dizziness before smiling up at the first Sneasel. "Oh wow, I finally understand the true meaning of Sneasel Day! And also you're very handsome and cool, Sneasel!"
"Thanks Sneasel!" They help the other to their feet. "Wanna have some treats?"
"Sure do!"
"W-wait," Ponyta says, "what just happened? How did you do that?! What's going on!?"
"Oh, well, allow me to explain," Sneasel #1 says. "You see... it's Sneasel Day."
"That means we get to do whatever we want!" #2 finishes. "Here, we'll show you!"
-
I fumble my keys as I approach the daycare door; it's really overcast and dark today, and the chill is almost numbing my fingers. I finally get it open... and find a sea of Sneasels chasing each other around, raiding the fridge, and tearing up the furniture. As I step inside, stupefied by the carnage, one of them waves to me.
"Hey! Hey trainer! It's me, Sneasel!"
"Um... I can see that."
"No I mean it's me, the original!"
"Sneasel, what... Where did all these other sneasel come from? And what happened to all the other pokemon?"
"Your first question is the answer to your second!"
"... Are you responsible for this?"
"I don't believe in responsibility, but yes."
"*sigh*... Whatever you did, undo it right now, or you're in big trouble."
"In trouble? Nah, I don't think I will be."
"And why is that?"
"Tell 'em, gang!"
They wave to the crowd of sneasels watching us, who shout in sync "It's Sneasel Day!" before they pounce!
I open the door, and a little imp runs between my legs and into the room behind me! I snatch them by the tail and carry them out before they can touch anything they shouldn't. "No no no, you know the rules, my office is off-limits. It's dangerous."
Zekken crosses their arms as they hang upside-down. "Come on, it doesn't look dangerous, and you go in there plenty."
"Dangerous for little imps. Angels only." I shut the door and lock it before setting Zekken down. "Besides, it's just work stuff in there. Nothing you'd be interested in."
"I dunno seraph, I'm pretty interested in the blue flame in that orb."
"THAT is the most dangerous thing in that room. Even I don't touch that without a good reason."
"What is it?"
"That's not for imps to worry about."
Zekken scowls at me. Always too curious for their own good.
"I'm just trying to keep you safe, Zekken. Trust me, there are some things you're better off not knowing."
They hold my gaze a moment longer, then sigh. "Fine, okay. I trust you."
"Thank you." I slide the key into my pocket and turn to walk away."
"Oh and seraph?"
I turn around. "Yeah-"
"Surprise hug!" 30 pounds of imp suddenly slam into me, but I manage to catch them and return the hug.
"Oof! You little rascal, you almost knocked me down that time!"
"I'll pull it off one of these days," Zekken laughs.
"Yeah, yeah." I hold them there awhile, until they loosen their hug, and I set them back on the ground. "Love you, Zekken."
"Love you too, seraph."
I head for the kitchen with a smile on my face. This job's a hassle sometimes, but it's worth it. Zekken's been one of my easier charges; usually their maturity and pride make it hard to adapt to life as an imp, but Zekken managed it in record time. Their progress has been incredible too! Pretty mischievous, but harmlessly so, and it's a good outlet. They'll be able to reincarnate in no time. My thoughts drift back to that flame in my office...
And I realize the key is missing from my pocket.
"Zekken. Set that down, and step away from it."
Zekken clutches the glass orb closer to their chest. They hide their panic much worse than I do, making a face I haven't seen since the day they were reborn. "What is this?"
Even when you have a new owner, sometimes old habits die hard.
"Spike!"
My breaths are heavy, straining against the collar wrapped tight around my neck.
"Spike, come! Damnit, where are you?"
My heart pounds in time with the footsteps outside, skipping a beat each time I see a shadow pass by under the door.
"Damn rat, get out here."
I'm only delaying the inevitable, but I'll delay it as long as I can, huddled in the dark where it's safe. Keeping as still and silent as I can. Hoping that the stomping will pass by the door just one more time...
The closet door opens! Blinding light shines through, highlighting the form of my owner as they-
"Jester!"
Huh?
"There you are, Jester. What're you doing in here? Hiding from your morning walk~?"
Now fully awake, I recall that what I was hiding from was, indeed, my morning walk.
"Come on ya silly little rat, you need your exercise. And you know what you get afterward~"
I shrink back and grumble; it's cold and wet out there, not worth it even for a treat.
"... No dice? *sigh* Well, it IS still pretty wet outside. I'm not eager to go out myself!" My owner sits down on one side of the closet, leaving an escape route unblocked. "I guess we can stay inside for today."
I set my head down beside my owner's leg, and they run a hand across my fur. I suck a deep breath in past my loose collar, and let out a sigh of relief as my owner's scent puts me at ease.
Posted $5 writing commissions. If you're interested, you can also contact me here on tumblr.
Thinking of trying writing commissions, anyone know any good resources for tips and stuff on that?
In my kobold story, I accidentally wrote 800 words about telepathy that I didn't actually enjoy or want to write about, and those kinds of impulsive tangents are often an issue in my writing. I think I figured out a solution that's better than just "don't do that": Establish themes beforehand.
When I have an idea I want to write, there's specific aspects of that idea that appeal to me. By thinking about the idea for a second and identifying those appealing aspects, I can list them as the themes of the story. The purpose. My hope is that by explicitly identifying those themes and writing them down beforehand, it'll be easier to tell when I'm drifting away from those themes.
In retrospect, the stuff I wanted to write about in the kobold story revolved around lack of identity, community, and being a little kobold. Most things in the story connect to this; the big cuddle pile is community and koboldness, the transformation scene is koboldness and kinda identity loss, the dragon mentioning former-humans is identity loss and koboldness, the hivemind in general is community and identity loss.
However, the telepathy section doesn't serve any of those themes. It could have been a way for the main character to engage in the hivemind and become part of the community, but I didn't do that. It's just 800 words that, to me, feel like a waste.
So for my next story, I've written out the themes about it that appeal to me. Hopefully, by explicitly listing these themes, I'll be able to keep my writing focused on the parts I like.
This is an issue I've mainly noticed in my sensual stories, but I feel like it might be a decent tip for writing in general, so I'm reblogging it here. Don't mind the stuff about identity loss and transformation it's just totally normal stuff
Two coworker adventurers venture into a valley of thick mist, and have some disagreements about how to handle it. After getting separate ...
I shake my head. "Still not seeing what's so scary about this mist."
"Of course you can't see," my smartass coworker says, "that's what mist does."
"You know what I meant."
"Look, I don't know what the threat is either, but there must be some reason why the legends say to NEVER go through alone."
The legend. I barely even remember it now. "So what, people make up stories all the time, right? There might not be a reason."
"There is! P-probably. I think…"
"This is stupid. I'm not gonna let you slow me down anymore."
"Hey, wait!"
But I'm already jogging through the mist, wanting to reach the other side as fast as possible. My coworker's voice gets further away until I finally don't hear them anymore. By that point I'm feeling a little lightheaded, so I sit down to catch my breath for a sec. Deep breath in, deep breath out, filling my lungs with cold air.
In…
Out…
Wait. Is the mist thicker here? I know it gets thicker deeper in, but I thought we'd already reached the thickest part. Or was it this thick back there too? I can't remember…
imagine you're a 1/1 soldier hanging out with your other soldier buddies and an opponent casts like a cyclonic rift and you're like "haha guys back to the hand we go!" and they all turn and wordlessly give you the saddest look and you notice they're all named something like stalwart protector or legion initiate and you're just named soldier, and your skin starts to feel really thin and your insides feel hollow, and the cyc rift is moving down the stack and players are passing priority, you realize you're not even human like the others you're just a soldier. and then someone force of wills the cyc rift, and you're back to being fine, you untap, you're declared as an attacker, but you're a little more hesitant than normal because you know when you die there will be no grave for you
The case had the entire agency stumped. But I took it on anyway; what better chance was there for the new hire to prove themself? If I could crack a case that even the top dogs gave up on, my name would be up there with Alquist Proft.
The moment I arrived on the scene, I saw the problem. Or rather, I didn't; there was no body. A string of disappearances, often murders according to witnesses, but without a trace left of the victim. The experts couldn't do anything if there wasn't any evidence. But even without a body, identifying the witness could at least get an investigation started.