Words Accidentally Appear

Author of fanfiction and original fiction. Avid videogame player. Renowned lover... of food.  

[american-wet-dream]

making decisions solely based on what your companion likes

[fugaboo-the-nug]

A heroin addict can see the future while she's under the influence. Friends and family continually take advantage of her gift even though it's rapidly killing her.

Jackie entered her house, slouching and rubbing her eyes as she closed the door behind her. She felt so numb, so tired, and at the family reunion next weekend, it would only get worse. She'd seen it already.

What her gift hadn't showed, however, was the scene before her. Jackie slipped around the corner into her living room and jumped. In the lawn chairs, half-ruined couch, and even on the stained carpet sat nearly everyone she knew. Parents, siblings, and cousins, not to mention her closest friends.

"What the fuck do you all want?" Jackie grumbled, tossing her purse to the floor.

Uncle Robert, leaning against the far wall, peeled off like the greasy cockroach he was. "Hey, kiddo. We've been waiting here a while now. Didn't know if you were going to show up."

"Gee, didn't know if I was going to show up at my house?"

"Well you could've been passed out in some crack den," muttered Cousin Jenny under her breath. That bitch knew I heard her, judging by the sly smile twisting her lips.

A thought popped into my head, and for a moment, hope sprang to life in my breast. "Is... is this an intervention?"

Uncle Robert guffawed. "Oh, god no. That's almost the opposite of what we want."

The hope shriveled and died, looking a little too much like her heart. "Then what the hell do you want?"

Carol cleared her throat. That trashy whore was the one who got Jackie hooked on the stuff in the first place. Back in the days when they thought her glimpses into the future were laughable hallucinations. Now she was clean, and I was paying the price. "He's being an ass. Really, we just want one more high out of you. One more, and then we'll all do everything we can to help you."

Narrowing her eyes, Jackie said, "What do you want?"

"Honey, as I'm sure you know, the hospital bills have been quite the financial burden," her dad began, speaking slowly and softly. He looked at Mom, whose wig wasn't fooling anyone.

Jackie tapped her foot against the floor. "So, what? You want me to see when she'll get better?" Or when the funeral will be?

"There's... actually something else we wanted you to do," he mumbled.

"Ah, let's just cut right to the chase." Uncle Robert slicked back his thinning hair. "The lotto's just shy of a billion dollars, and we want you to find out what the numbers are."

Not surprised by his bluntness, she simply scoffed. "We've tried this before, you know. More than a few times. The numbers are always so blurred, I can never read them properly." Her glimpses were little more than that--glimpses. They were never wrong, when deduced correctly. The blurry visions couldn't always be reliable, though.

The sudden sound of locking made Jackie spin. Back at the front door, her Cousin Bobby stood before the entrance to her house. Only by the guilty glint in his eyes did she realize he wasn't blocking an entrance.

He was blocking an exit.

"We all pulled our money together," said Uncle Robert, stepping ever closer to Jackie. "And our resources, to find the finest, purest heroin in the country. An ample supply, at that. Don't worry about getting the numbers all on your first high... because you won't be leaving until you get them all."

A link to the original: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4qcxuh/wp_a_heroin_addict_can_see_the_future_while_shes/d4s61h1

[fugaboo-the-nug]

[TT] The rapture has left behind only the purely evil. The Devil's minions have come to take back the void, but are finding it surprisingly hard to wipe out the dregs of humanity.

"You think you can enter my home unannounced?"

The daemon spun too late, receiving a vicious swipe at its exposed rib cage. The humans, what remained of them, had learned to fend for themselves quickly. Any and all silver--the purer the better--was poison to the skin. And it just so happened this mortal had a sword of the finest quality.

Down the daemon went, sprawled on all eight limbs. More men began to surround it, all wielding the same weaponry. A few weren't satisfied by its already weakened state, beating the creature with bats and clubs. Cold iron didn't carry the sting of silver, but it fared better than most materials against the residents of Hell.

"That's enough," the first swordsman said. "We don't want to kill it. Not yet."

The beating ended, after a few more slugs to the skull. The daemon whimpered, muttering for mercy in broken Latin. It hadn't expected this kind of resistance. Sweepings of random neighborhoods of days, months, years past hadn't prepared it for this. So few humans remained now, scattered across the wasted earth. A collection this huge, this prepared, was unheard of.

Slowly the swordsman knelt before the daemon, grabbing it by its sparse hair. Pulling its face to meet his, the man studied it. "You're young," he said. "I think. Inexperienced. Such a shame. You know, back in the good days, I'd toss small fish like you back into the water." He shrugged. "But beggars can't be choosers. We're hungry, and we haven't seen anything so plump in a long time."

He turned his attention to his men. "Fire up the grill, boys. And get it nice and hot."

A link to the original: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4ppwqg/tt_the_rapture_has_left_behind_only_the_purely/d4n6th5

[fugaboo-the-nug]

Chapter 93 Preview

Many lycans, given the right strain, became slaves to Tamriel’s moons. Azura claimed domain over them, and the stars, but to manbeasts her claim was false. Hircine controlled them, the sky and the werewolves beneath it. The greatest evidence came in the form of a Bloodmoon—a declaration streaked red in the sky. The ritual was rare, and in normal cases, saved solely for Nirn. The last was more than two hundred years ago. Arenar had bared witness to it, thanks to his participation as prey in Hircine’s Hunt.

Now it was Kole’s turn.

Ownership may be contested in Nirn, but in the Hunting Grounds, Hircine was God. To bask his realm in a bloody shadow was nothing. Kole knew it was a special message directed at him. His army marched in its early glow, as the day was not yet done. Dusk was coming, but tradition was clear. The Hunt did not begin until the sun went down; for now, it still graced the horizon.

Under a Bloodmoon, Kole’s army arrived at Sheo’s Rend.

[fugaboo-the-nug]

[WP] You have to understand. That's the nature of fire.

The child stumbled forward, wailing in the wind. All around her, char and ash tainted the house. The sickening stench of burnt flesh couldn't be shook. Like the inferno that'd swept over the little cottage, there was no escape.

She stopped before me, enraptured by my light. Though the only survivor, she'd hardly gone unscathed. Her hair was in wisps, and her skin marred by my fires. The tears rolling down her cheeks weren't going to put them out anytime soon. No, the physical reminders were permanent, as much as the mental scars.

"Why?" she asked, sniffling and huffing.

I shrugged. "You have to understand." Turning my back on her, I proceeded to leave. "That's the nature of fire. Be careful when it's called, be prepared. Or you're going to get burned."

A link to the original: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4nl0w3/wp_you_have_to_understand_thats_the_nature_of_fire/d44xz0a

[fugaboo-the-nug]

[WP] You are a vampire living in World War II. With the war being at its deadliest, you decide to take action.

Blood and entrails covered the ground. I walked amongst the carnage, resisting the urge to lick my lips. Glazing over the corpses, my sensitive eyes checked for any sign of life. But the explosive shell had annihilated the trench, and all the soldiers inside.

Finally, one appeared, flailing and crying into the dirt. With my foot I rolled him onto his back, taking in the scene. His shirt was splattered red, ripped to shreds like the flesh beneath. The man wasn't a man; he was barely more than a kid. And yet, surrounded by troops far more seasoned, he was the only survivor. Luck was on his side.

"I... I'm not going to make it." Against the booming bombs and relentless gunfire, even my heightened hearing could barely make him out. I knelt before him, placing my hand against his heart. The rapid-beating drum in his chest was failing, slowing with each thump. "I'm not going to make it... am I?"

I moved my hand to his chin, tilting his head to the side. His peach-fuzzed cheek pressed into the gory mud. The mere sight of his neck riled me up, but I forced the cravings down. If I wasn't careful, I'd take too much, and leave too little.

"You will make it," I assured him. "But you aren't going to like it."

My fangs extended, and I began to feed.

A link to the original: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4nizkx/wp_you_are_a_vampire_living_in_world_war_ii_with/d44koi6

[fugaboo-the-nug]

[WP] A self aware character on a boring family sitcom show realizes that their existence wholly relies on whether they get renewed for a new season. In order to "live" they go against what was recorded in the season finale and attempts to save the show.

The cars were packed, and the kids were ready to go. But I wasn't.

"You know," I said, patting Jimmy's shoulder, "you don't have to go to college."

His brows rose, and he narrowed his eyes. In the pit of my stomach, I could feel the tide turning. Some invisible force tugged at me, urging me to send my boy off on his way to become a man. The words were right at my lips, and it was all I could do not to form them.

"Huh?" he asked, his hands on the wheel. The key wasn't turned, and so long as that remained true, I knew I had a chance.

"College can wait a year, or two," I told him. Or a hundred. I couldn't let him go. Jenny was too strong-willed to listen, too much like her mother. But if Jimmy was anything like me, he wouldn't mind wasting time and goofing off. Little did he know his life depended on it. All our lives. "Just stay home. Hell, I won't even charge you."

I chuckled, but Jimmy shook his head. "No, Dad. I want to make you proud of me. I'm going to make something of myself."

"You can make something of yourself here, at home." Where you can be watched by millions, season after season.

He gripped the wheel, nervously digging his fingers into it. This wasn't fair to him. I was proud to hear he was growing up. All those life lessons his mother and I've drilled into him week after week must've hit their target. But I knew better now, and those lessons would kill us.

"Well, I guess I could start next semester instead," Jimmy said, reluctance heavy in his tone.

I slapped the car door. "That's the spirit. How about we go fishing tomorrow? You're eighteen now; I'll even let you try a beer."

Jimmy snorted, and then his face went blank. "Uh, I mean, that'd be really cool, Dad. My first beer."

A car horn blared behind us, and I turned my head to see Jenny in her car. She motioned for us to move, goading Jimmy to drive off to his future and out of her way. I signaled her to drive around; I only needed one kid to keep us alive. For all I knew, she'd drop out all on her own and come back home.

Or maybe she'd get a spinoff.

A link to the original: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4mqqp4/wp_a_self_aware_character_on_a_boring_family/d3xqhlm

[bewitchedcrafts]

Haiku for you

Do not touch me guy I will fist you in the eye It rhymes just because

[bewitchedcrafts]

A drawing I did on sketch club, I hope you guys enjoy :3

[bewitchedcrafts]

A sketch I did for a friend @magic-pajamas

[fugaboo-the-nug]

Sole Survivors

This is just a little piece I felt like writing. Thought it’d be interesting, illogical as it may be.

Nate couldn’t see the sun and the sky, and he feared they wouldn’t be the same.

So far, he had good reason to believe they wouldn’t be. It was too much to ask for fluffy clouds lazily drifting overhead. The jaunt from the cryo pods to Vault 111′s entrance gave a taste of the world he’d awoken to. And he doubted giant cockroaches were the extent of the damage. 

Questions raced through his head as the elevator ascended. What had Vault-Tec done to them? How much time had passed? Where was the man who took Shaun? Why did he take Shaun?

A groan to his left reminded him, as bad as things were, not all was lost. “How’s your shoulder holding up?” he asked.

Nora rubbed the tender spot, wincing with every move. Basic medic training for the field, access to stimpaks, and a whole lot of luck kept her upright. By all rights, she shouldn’t have woken from the second freezing. The amount of blood lost in seconds, minutes couldn’t compare to months or years. But to no surprise, she wasn’t feeling particularly grateful.

“I’ll live,” she said, trying to hide her whimper. She was so pale, so feeble, and yet she had enough energy left to hold back the tears. 

“We’re going to get him back,” Nate said. The shaft doors weren’t opening yet, and they were closing in fast. He couldn’t find it in him to be more worried than annoyed. To survive a nuclear attack and the most peculiar home invasion only to be killed by an elevator... 

“I know, just... I know.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here first.”

Finally the metal doors parted, parting way to let in a blinding ray of sunlight. Nate turned his gaze to his feet, studying floor in hope of gaining his sight back. The smell hit him next, and he retched. Dead bodies were nothing new to him. He’d encountered plenty during his service. But the overwhelming odor of complete, utter decay had no rival.

When his eyes decided to cooperate--and his stomach settled--he blinked in the surroundings. The rich woodlands outside Sanctuary Hills had become piles of ash and rubble. Anything around them that wasn’t dead had simply never been alive in the first place. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Nate muttered, doing his best to wake from his nightmare. He peered up to the sky, surprised to find the sun directly overhead. Somethings never change after all. 

“I don’t think he’s going to help us,” Nora grumbled, shifting her feet. “Now come on... let’s go home.”

[incorrectdragonage]

submitted by @captainamuricasass

Inquisitor: Solas, you’re the dread wolf? Why didn’t you tell me? Solas: Because you’re terrible at keeping secrets. You just blurt everything out. Inquisitor (flashback): Sorry we’re late! Solas had diarrhea!

[casino-lights]

Is It Time? – Boone/Courier Six

(@pocket-paladin​ said “The Runner and the Lover” by Former Vandal fits Boone and the Courier. So while listening to it on repeat, I wrote this. Basically just a fluff oneshot. Enjoy!)

Boone feels his hands shaking and he bites his lip hard. They don’t have faces anymore, but in his dreams he still sees bodies dropping one by one just outside Bitter Springs. Last night, though, some of them were wearing Legion crimson. A reminder of his last visit there, with the courier at his side.

He gets up and pulls on a shirt that looks relatively clean before quietly getting his things together. The wardrobe door creaks as it opens and he quickly scans the room, readying a hasty explanation in case the courier’s other companions wake up. Veronica only huffs in her sleep and Raul mutters something unintelligible. 

Cass’s and Gannon’s beds are neatly made, as they have been for weeks. Cass left first, off to explore the Mojave and find her fortune. Gannon followed a few weeks later, claiming he missed the teacher’s life. Boone knows it’s his turn now, but he feels less certain now that he’s actually packing his bag.

Keep reading

[slimekid-deactivated20181003]

[hacker voice] I’m in

[fugaboo-the-nug]

[WP] A desperate author uses a spell to summon the physical form of their writer's block in order to kill it.

"You need me."

The smug smile stretched across its face gave me pause, and I lowered my shotgun. I wasn't in danger, not really. The block couldn't leave the summoning circle... according to the texts, at least. But still, I was wary. "Why do I need you? You're about the worst thing that's ever happened to me. Six months I've been stuck with you, breathing down my neck."

"Oh, I've always been with you," the block countered. "Not just for writing, either. Any hesitance, any reluctance to move forward on a task... it has been me."

I cocked my shotgun and aimed for its... well, what was probably its head. "You're not making a strong argument."

"Give me time; that's all I ever ask for." The block tapped on the ward, sending a shock that distorted the whole barrier. "You see, humans are different. They have unimaginable potential, far beyond your wildest dreams. And that... is where I come in."

"So I'm supposed to say thank you for limiting me?" I asked.

"You're not, but I've never expected any gratitude." It leaned forward, far as it could without breaking free--or trying to. "Humans are monsters, Ken. But if you think you're bad now... just imagine if I wasn't there to stop you from doing everything you're capable of."

A link to the original: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4i2jgd/wpa_desperate_author_uses_a_spell_to_summon_the/d2ur21e

[fugaboo-the-nug]

[WP] We live in a world that buys and sells IQ points.

"I only need it for today! I'll pay you back triple your costs if you just help me out."

"Look, I understand your situation. I mean, I went to college too. For a while." The dealer tapped the line of vials stitched inside his coat, shaking the liquids inside. "This proved to be a far more lucrative career path. But I didn't make my profits off of struggling kids with half the cash I'm demanding."

I ran my fingers through my hair and checked my phone. In two hours, I'd be taking my final exams. "Look, is there anyway I can get anything from you?" I dug into my pocket, fishing out a handful of change on top of the three hundred bucks I'd already offered. "Please, just give me something," I said, pressing the coins into his chest.

The dealer shook his head. He handed me my money back, ignoring the pennies and quarters, and started walking. My eyes began to water up, but I stifled my gasp when he suddenly stopped a few steps down the alley. Peering over his shoulder, he sighed and started back toward me. From his pants pocket he pulled another vial, different than the rest. The contents had been clear, while this one was a little opaque.

"Normally I wouldn't do this, because it's a little dangerous." He nabbed my money once more, replacing it with the vial. "The product expires, after a certain time. I pride myself in selling top-of-the-line boosters to my clients... but you seem desperate."

"I am," I confessed, nodding while examining the booster in my hand.

"This stuff isn't quite past the expiration date, but it's damn near close," he warned. "Don't leave the stopper off; drink it immediately or the risk will rise. The reaction's going to be delayed either way, but you'll get your boost. Just... maybe don't drive a car for a week."

I wasn't listening, already popping the top and downing the booster. There was no taste, somehow even plainer than water. My friends told me about the rush, the instant understanding of everything in my mind. That didn't come, and I eyed the dealer with caution. "How am I supposed to know if this stuff is the real thing?" I asked.

He shrugged. "If it works, you're going to know a hell of a lot more than that."

A link to the original: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4hoaqs/wp_we_live_in_a_world_that_buys_and_sells_iq/d2rej8i

[ancient-rome-au]

[bewitchedcrafts]

I too want a man who drags babies around on his skirt

[fugaboo-the-nug]

Done and done.