'Sup, I'm Padfoot and I write both original and fan fiction. Usually to some sort of song. Mostly in the Sad Boi™ genre. I'm big into a bunch of fandoms, and there's always room for me to learn. If you're interested in my writing just shoot me a prompt and I'll get with you shortly!
It’s a blue afternoon, so I ran with this sacrifice to the gods prompt begun by @straight-to-the-pain and expanded upon by @whumping-every-day.
Thanks to @thegoblinchild for asking about my OC, Ev.
trigger warnings: death by exposure, suffocation/hypoxia, frostbite…wildly inaccurate Catholicism
Ev is laid out on his stomach over the stone tablet. He is exhausted from the long trek here, and his body sags gratefully against the engraved stone.
While the priests stretch his legs taut, he lifts his bound hands to his forehead to pray. The Hail Mary has always given Ev the most amount of comfort. He mouths over the first few lines, wind-chapped lips brushing the knuckles of his thumbs.
The warm gust of his breath is a mercy against his frostbitten fingers.
Hello, since I’m about to drop a story with this bastard it’s time I introduce an OC! You’ll find him and another look like Dylan. It’s left over from RP days. Sue me.
Before I get into the fun stuff I should probably give a bit of backstory. I was/am a very big RPer, and often times I would take who I was RPing at the time and just bend them into an AU. So Talib is born from the idea of Stiles being a villain in the Nolanverse. He’s not a genderbend of Talia, but rather a replacement of her? She exists, but almost like a mother to him than anything. So for this, he was the child in the Pit. If that makes sense. Anyway, who needs canon?
Full Name: Talib al Ghul
Reason for name: Talib means student so combined with his last name he’s the Student of the Ghoul. NGL, always figured that ... uh R’as would name his kid some stupid shit.
Nickname: Genim “Stiles” Stilinski
Reason for nickname: Talib could not intern under Mr. Fox with his given name, so when his paper work for forged he came up with an American name. One that wasn’t too terribly fake sounding.
Age: He has no idea, but he would guess early to mid twenties.
Sex: Male
Place of Birth: The Pit
Birthday: Unknown.
Currently living in: Gotham, specifically Wayne Enterprises
Occupation: Former intern at Wayne Enterprises, current prince of Gotham
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Social Status: Feared
Relationship Status: Bedding the Masked Man
Appearance
Body Build: Lean muscular
Height: 5′11″
Weight: 150 lbs
Skin color: Pale
Distinguishing Features: Moles and freckles everywhere
Mental/Emotional State
Archetype: Villain I guess, if that’s an archetype
Act before thinking/Think before acting?: A mixture of both, when someone actually gets under his skin he will act before thinking.
Emotion-wise, generally: Generally, Talib is very level headed, but can air on the side of manic a lot of the time. The longer he stays in power over Gotham, however, the more his mental state starts to degrade.
Conversation
Swears?: Not really. Cussing had only been used to establish dominance among henchmen when he first came to Gotham. Now that he’s in the position he’s in, he has all but dropped them from his vocabulary.
Strengths/Weaknesses
Strengths: Talib is skilled in hand to hand combat as well as small fire arms.
Weakness: Hard to say, he’s not the most trusting person in the world. If that’s a weakness or not, only time will tell.
Secrets:
If he was honest with himself, he’d like to imagine a world where he could live a normal life. He’s seen the movies and books, seen what a teenager is supposed to do. There’s supposed to be romance and heartbreak, school and not.. not this. Not murder and running Gotham. It’s nice, but is this really a life? He didn’t think it was, but it made his father happy, it made Bane and Barsad happy. So, it must make him happy, right?
Fears:
Revolt. He knows it’ll happen, whether it’s from Gotham’s citizens, from his own henchmen, or the other nut bags lurking the streets beneath Wayne Tower. His time is running out, and he knows it’ll end bloody.
Dreams/Goals
He’s surpassed his goal of killing Batman and controlling Gotham. It was easier than he had expected honestly. Once Gotham’s symbol of Justice was gone the whole city seemed to crumble. Even when John Blake had tried to step up and take his place it was easy to clip the Bird’s wings.
Relationships
Family:
R’as al Ghul - His father, his teacher. Their relationship was strained for many years after the rescue from the Pit, having only had Bane in his life for his whole life. It took some coercion, but finally they started to get along; to a point. R’as would push Bane out of the League of Shadows, too concerned with his own mistakes to see how much Talib needed Bane in his life. When the man died trying desperately to kill off Batman, Talib wouldn’t so much as shed a tear; though he’s convinced his father watches his every move.
Talia al Ghul - Somewhere between a mother and a sister, Talia would be at Talib’s side when R’as would go to hard on the boy’s training. She would patch his wounds and hold the boy when he couldn’t sleep at night. After Bane’s banishment Talia took over the role of “parental” figure. It made her own abandonment of the League that much harder. To this day, Talib harbors no ill will towards Talia. He hopes she’s happy and safe, and he wonders if he should have left with her.
Love interest:
Bane - The time of Bane’s banishment was a living hell for Talib, and the young boy had never realized how much he depended on the large man. When R’as died and the League was given to a Talib, he did everything he could to find Bane. This time, it would be his turn to protect him! Somehow in Talib’s fucked up life, Bane went from being a parental figure to being a lover. He didn’t know when it happened or how. He knew it should be disgusting, but it was right to them. No one really knew Talib like Bane did. It had been them for so long, and even after the Pit it still felt mostly like them.
Friends/Allies:
Barsad - The man with the red scarf. Barsad entered into Talib’s life under interesting circumstances; from his understanding he was a mercenary who owed the wrong people money. He wanted to pay off his debts as quickly as possible and return to a normal life. Normally, Barsad would not bite the hand that feeds him, but when he saw how the League, specifically R’as, would just wallop on Talib he had to speak up. For all intents and purposes, Talib was still just a child, and training him to the point of vomiting would do him no good. He would dote on the boy, often smuggling in books and movies for him to be as much of a child as possible. The time between Talia leaving and Bane being found Barsad would be another proxy parent to Talib.
John Blake - The little bird. After the fall of Batman, John tried his hardest to take down The Masked Man. He had not been prepared for, what looked like, a kid to be running Gotham. A kid who had infiltrated Wayne Enterprises from the inside, posing as a bright eyed intern, just wanting to learn from the best company in the world! It was laughable really, that John had tried so hard, and got absolutely nowhere in his pathetic attempt to save Gotham. It took some time, but John was able to be molded into a pretty little lap dog for Talib.
Enemies:
Batman - Bruce Wayne, billionaire, playboy, Batman. He was what was keeping the criminals of Gotham at bay. Talib wasn’t quite sure why they needed Batman dead, but his brief stint as Wayne Enterprises intern made Talib want their tech. So, why not just kill Bruce and rob them blind? The fanatical obsession with taking over Gotham never really stuck with Talib, not like it had with his father. Something about greed being the root of evil or something. Still, he played his part, and took down the Batman with surprising ease. Bruce had been so surprised to see his little intern had been in control of The Masked Man. It was a little sad to see, really. Millions of people had faith in some hero that was too stupid to see the enemy in his face, and once that hero fell everything else fell with it.
The Joker - Something about the Clown is just unsettling. After the fall of Gotham, most of the villains had at least tried to kiss Talib’s ass one way or another, but the Joker had just disappeared from Arkham without a trace. He’s still around, lurking in the shadows, though. His calling card has been left on the corpses of Talib’s men.
Unnamed Vigilante - Someone’s gunning for Talib, but no one knows if he’s a villain, a hero, someone with a death wish, or what. All they know is he’s strapped with one too many guns and runs around in a red mask like an idiot.
Trivia
Fun fact, my stories will Talib will be released backwards??? Since he’s from an RP I’ll basically be transcribing old RPs into a fic format and making it more palatable, if that’s hunky dory with my partner. If not then you guys will get new content that’s completely out of order :D
The secret stems from my RP partner and I having a like “human” au, where like Gotham is just a normal city and Bruce is just a billionaire. They get to live “normal” lives where murder isn’t.... as involved, at least not on Talib’s end. It is on Bane and R’as end.
This is also the most thought I’ve actually put into Talib, and wow he has feelings. what is this???
This is the result of people letting me do fuckin’ crossovers.
later tonight i’ll post another couple OC things, more in depth than just an ask meme. And barb I swear I’m working on stuff for you. I’ve just been brain dead for like the past month v-v
7) Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?
Oof babe this is rough
Karlo was the first to say “I love you”, however it wasn’t romantic. It might not have even been platonic. It was a “Holy shit! Like I love you! I love this!” type of thing. Asher had robbed a store for him, got money for him, got T for him! It was the closest Karlo had gotten to familial acceptance like ever. And it was amazing to have. It was overwhelming and he did love it, he did love Asher, the same sort of way a Lost Boy loves Peter Pan. It’s not real love, but it’s love none the less.
Almost every fight Karlo and Asher get into ends with Asher throwing out the dreaded “Because I love you” or some variation of it. He really does love Karlo, and that’s the problem. He has no concept of healthy anything, and when you’re a murderer for a living, things get intense. A fist might meet a face, but it’s not out of hatred. It’s just out of the intensity of the lives they live. One toe out of line and their whole operation could go to shit. One toe out of line and Karlo could be dead. Doesn’t he get it??? All this, this wanting to take of LS, to run the city, to sell drugs, to have all this money, it is to take care of Karlo. He really does love Karlo!
You can’t convince me that Hizashi doesn’t listen to like horror punk and shit like that. Like common, he suggested the name Eraserhead to Aizawa. He’s gotta like horror.
I AM PERSONALLY OFFENDED THAT NOBODY HAS MADE FICS WHERE STEVE AND BUCKY DISCOVER ELECTRO SWING IS A THING THAT EXISTS LIKE IMAGINE HOW HAPPY THOSE TWO IDIOTS WILL BE WHEN THEY DISCOVER THEY CAN STILL HAVE A GO AT SOME LINDY HOPPING AN D NOT BE JUDGED BECAUSE THERE IS A WHOLE MOVEMENT AROUND 40′S PRE-WAR MUSIC AND FASHION IN MODERN TIMES WHY IS NO ONE DOING THIS?!
LIKE THEY PROBABLY DON’T LIKE ALL THE MODERN POP MUSIC AND STUFF BUT THEY’LL SING THE POST MODERN JUKEBOX’S VERSION OF SEVEN NATION ARMY LIKE IT’S NOBODY’S BUSINESS
Taking away the fact that making CW into a movie would be the worse idea in the history of bad superhero movie ideas, it should be an ironclad rule that Downey never, ever be allowed to act Tony’s Confession monologue on screen. With those huge eyes that tear up so beautifully and with his gift for empathic delivery, the fandom simply would not survive it.
I love this idea so much. Here’s a quick one for you, darling. (for torture tuesday)
Gotham’s reckoning is surprisingly shy. Especially when it comes to his body. No one wants to be remotely close to him, much less maintain his hygiene.
Of course, it’s John Blake who pulls the short straw.
Pairing: N/A
Rating: T
Content: Untreated ADHD, recreational drug use, depression, anxiety, shit ass hero society, unbeta’d vent fic
ao3: right here
Notes: Hey, so I’ve never written for My Hero before, and this is a vent fic centered around Presnt Mic. Uh, go easy on me?
Knowing from a young age that something was wrong with you was a strange feeling, especially when the people who were supposed to take care of you didn’t do their job. In the age of the internet it was easy for Hizashi to look up how he was feeling and go “hey, mom, dad, I think I have ADHD.” They agreed he did, but they never took him to the doctor for it.
“If we make this official, you’ll never be a hero.”
He wanted to be a hero so, so bad. So, he stopped trying to fix his brain. It was hard, his grades went from being great to being not so good. The classes he cared about, he would excel in. He could lose himself in an English paper, to the point of forgetting to eat. And when it came to the subjects he just didn’t care about, it wasn’t that he was bad at them, he just didn’t care. He was smart, but he just didn’t apply himself.
“Hizashi, if you would stop listening to that damn music, you could get into any Imperial University you wanted!”
But, he didn’t want to get into some big Imperial University, he hadn’t even been sure he wanted to go to college. Shouta and Nemuri pushed him to apply to something small, but respectable, and together the three of them worked on Hizashi being a semi functioning person. Alarms and check ins helped him eat and sleep properly. It was nice. College saw a huge shift in his grades, given that he could actually pick what he wanted to take. His attention was constantly captivated, and he went from borderline failing to honors. It was nice, like maybe his stupid brain wouldn’t get the best of him.
This improvement landed him a semester abroad in America. College was so different over there than in Japan. Parties were everywhere, and Hizashi was sitting on the fence of joining that life style. The loud music, the flashing lights, it was more his style than anything back home. Out in America he picked up a side job DJing for small little house parties. People paid him to play music and run his mouth, it was the dream! The party scene had its downfalls though: namely drugs. Weed, fantastic, amazing, everyone who wanted to should be able to smoke it! Alcohol, eh, take it or leave it. Ecstasy, after doing his research, he had become so picky about the stuff he never did it. Adderall though, that had been something else. The only thing he knew about the stuff was it was very, very illegal back home. Americans were often detained for having a legitimate prescription of the stuff. His friends had told him it was a lot like coke, just legal coke.
“You’ll feel great. And studying will go by so quick.”
Except, he didn’t feel great and studying didn’t go by very quickly. He had watched everyone bump the pill and decided to follow suit. Everyone at the party was having fun, geeked out of their mind. And he just sat there with a mild headache from snorting a pill. This amazing, finals enhancing drug did nothing for him.
“How ya feelin’ Zash?”
“Like I have a headache?”
“....Dumbass, do you have ADD?”
Oh… There went his brain ruining everything again. Before leaving America, he had gone to his college’s psychiatric facilities to try to get a concrete answer about his ADHD. What he got was… enough. A yes without it being explicit.
“Technically, I can’t diagnose you, but I can screen you. At this school, you need a diagnosis to get meds. Outside of the school, this screening is all you need to get a prescription.”
The person he had seen had been kind enough to not make anything official without Hizashi’s say so. Not with how mental illness was still seen in the world. For such an advanced society, the hero world still held many old stigmas that should have died away a long time ago. Mental illness was still such a messy topic that most agencies would rather ignore a great hero with a problem than actually try to help said hero. There were some quirks that could help, but ethics and morals came into play a lot. It caused many people to just lie about having any problems, and lying often times got people hurt.
While he had been in America, there was an incident with a female hero. She had untreated PTSD and snapped during a mission, taking her life along with the life of another hero and a villain. It wasn’t her fault, if her agency, hell if anyone, had been willing to help her, she would probably still be here. Instead, there was a larger wedge driven in the hero community.
When Hizashi moved back to Japan, he had two semesters of college left, but it felt like an eternity. Having a professional reaffirm his suspicions about his own mental health might have been worse than just going against the grain. He was hyper aware of all of his mood changes, any time something was overwhelming he would just freak out. His usual happy go lucky personality had died away under the weight of trying to beat this illness with no help. If he got anything official, he would be screwed. He would never be a hero, though, if he was honest with himself, that was why he was in college. He couldn’t be a hero. He needed a degree so he could teach. At least being a teacher, he could help the next batch of heroes, right?
At some point in his hectic life, Nemuri and Shouta had basically become his roommates. He hadn’t been sure when or how, but it was nice. Nemuri was very motherly and Shouta was super logical. It was the perfect combination for when he would absolutely lose his shit during finals. Higher level classes meant more projects, and Hizashi took on too many classes. So, he lost sleep. He’d get anxious and try and finish a month long project in a weekend. He would get it done, but it cost him a lot. How his friends stayed with him was a miracle because by the end of college he could barely function. His straight A’s dropped to C’s because he just stopped caring. Still, he had managed to get that piece of paper that said he could teach. That’s what he had resigned himself to doing: teaching and maybe he’d pick up another DJing gig. It was fun. He needed fun. Shouta and Nemuri, though, were not too thrilled with how easily Hizashi had just given up on being a hero.
“You know your provisional license is still good. You can finish up the National License.”
“I don’t think I can, Sho. The stress, the stigma. I.. I think I’m good. I’ll just teach the newbies. It’ll be fun.”
That was a lie, but it was one he was willing to live with. He liked teaching his friends English, so maybe teaching kids would be like that. It had to be, because if he didn’t have teaching, he really didn’t have anything. He didn’t want to think about not having anything, but each day he went without a job looked more and more grim. If he had a normal brain then maybe he could be a proper adult and he could go and be this hero. He could save people and function, and not lose his shit over the dumbest thing.
A part of him wanted to finally get diagnosed and get on medication, but he knew the minute he did that he signed away any chance he would ever get of being a hero. So, he stayed unmedicated. Just living day to day. Sometimes he would be perfectly fine, just existing in his apartment with his friends. Other days he was freaking out for no real reason. He had looked it up, and apparently because he wasn’t treating his illness he was slowly developing new ones. Namely anxiety and depression. He could tell it was straining his relationship with his friends, but he couldn’t get diagnosed. He just couldn’t, and with medication being so hard to get, he just decided to take matters into his own hands.
Energy supplements and weed eventually became Hizashi’s go to once he got himself a job at a radio station. The stuff he was drinking was great, it had vitamins and all this other crap, had little sugar. It helped him focus unlike caffeine pills. At least, that’s how he reasoned with himself. He’d drink the powdery drink before a show, go on for the six hours he needed to be hyped up, then go home and share a joint with his friends before sleeping. Rinse and repeat. Thankfully, his boss at the radio station let him have full reign of the show. So when the drink would make him hyperfocus on his anxiety rather than his music, he’d just queue a non stop playlist and freak out at his desk. It sucked so bad, but it paid his rent. And usually Nemuri or Shouta was out on patrol during his sets so they would bring him something to calm him down.
This new regiment went on for a couple months before Nemuri came home one night and threw a bottle of pills at him. Confused, Hizashi read the label over and over, squinting at the prescription and the name attached.
“Concerta… Tatsuya… Nem, whose are these?”
“Yours.”
“Nem, seriously.”
“Zashi, seriously.”
That night they had a long talk about everything, how Nemuri had suffered from depression. How Shouta found the pharmacist willing to illegally help heroes. How very, very illegal the whole process was. They didn’t bring it up because the process wasn’t guaranteed and it involved some unsavory people. He wasn’t exactly happy that they had gone behind his back with this, but they all knew if he knew he wouldn’t have gone. So he was a little less mad. He didn’t take the medicine immediately. It stayed untouched for about a month, just sitting on his nightstand as he decided what he was going to do. On one hand, he could be a hero. He could just lie about his mental illness and keep it pushing. On the other, he had read up on the medicine, and it was very scary. Just missing one dose could fuck him up. Missing several would put him in a bad spot. Hero work or self medication. That’s what his choice boiled down to.
He couldn’t pinpoint why, but one day he just decided to take the medication. It felt great. He was focusing within the hour and he wasn’t drifting off to do other things. His radio show was just the right amount of hyper without going off the rails. He felt productive. It was great. He forgot to take it the next day, and while it wigged him out, he had red he hadn’t been on it long enough for it to do anything. So, he started setting alarms for himself again, a habit that died off at some point. He couldn’t remember why he stopped. Sleep, eat, medicine, clock in, sleep. Rinse and repeat. That’s what his alarms were for. After a couple of weeks he was able to silence all of them except the one that woke him up. It was nice. Having a schedule that he could stick to.
After months of being on the medicine, he finally got the courage to go and get his National Hero License. It was scary, but his friends helped him through it. The medicine didn’t help too much with his anxiety, but he wasn’t really willing to fuck with more than one medicine. So he chose to deal with the anxiety by itself. Breathing helped, knowing that getting his NHL would be the best thing ever helped. When he walked out of the building with that piece of plastic, with his two friends waiting for him, he broke down in tears. He couldn’t help it He had come so far because of them... because of him, too.
The months turned to two years, and Hizashi was starting to forget who that scared little boy was that he used to be. When he wasn’t a hero, he was still a radio DJ. He found that working multiple jobs was the best thing for him. The more occupied he was, the better off he was. Eventually, he even decided to apply for a teaching position too. Just to add one more thing for him to do. The talk with Principal Nezu was a little intimidating if he was honest. The furry little creature might be small in stature, but he could command the attention of a room. Still, Hizashi laid out his concerns and his own demands. He wanted to be open about his condition if a student had those concerns as well. He never wanted someone to suffer like he had. He wanted to change the stigma. Somehow. Nezu, surprisingly, was okay with this, so long as the student was the one who approached Hizashi with the question.
As Hizashi started to teach, and students actually approached him on how to deal with their ADHD, the Pro wanted to push the stigma more. He went to his agency with a hypothetical, a student wanted to know what to do. They laughed and he threatened to leave. Sure, he wasn’t All Might or Endeavor, but he was Present Mic the DJ who brought in a decent chunk of change for his celebrity status, and money talked. They agreed on doing PSAs about ADHD, but they weren’t looking to bring on a hero with the condition. It wasn’t good enough, so he left. And it was a PR nightmare for the agency.
“Dear Listeners, Present Mic just became a free agent…”
Was it dumb to blast the agency on air? Oh yeah. Did Shouta chew him out? Fuck yeah he did. Did Hizashi feel great? Amazing. It felt so good to do things for himself, to make his own terms. Without an agency, Hizashi started to get more bold on his radio show, creating a monthly Monday show dedicated to mental health. It had its ups and downs, some people loved it, some people hated it. The radio station’s ratings were up so his boss didn’t care one way or another, especially when people would call in to threaten or belittle Mic. Still, he kept it pushing because if he was going to be the only advocate the he was going to be the loudest advocate.
While he never out right admitted he had an illness, everyone could figure it out. The NHL had tried to strip him of his license, but with not real concrete diagnosis they had no reason to. They gave him a firm talking to, reminded him that they were not a fan of his “shenanigans.” So, Hizashi just got louder. He started selling merchandise with “Remember their names” on the front and the list of heroes that, globally, had lost their lives to untreated mental illness. The money went to advocacy groups. He was going to make sure that if the NHL did anything stupid, it would back fire on them.
His hero work was getting choked off by the NHL, he knew it was, but he was just going to keep fighting. Principal Nezu supported his fight, so did his students. He knew how Nemuri and Shouta felt. That was all that mattered. The people that mattered about him cared, and that was enough for him to keep fighting. After the merchandise came a forum, an anonymous place for people with and without quirks to discuss mental illness. At this point, his words had spread out past the hero community in Japan. He saw users from across the globe on his site and he knew he was slowly gaining traction. Slow and steady.
His twenty sixth birthday marked his two year fight for equality, and unfortunately no heroes had really spoken on it. He understood, they didn’t want to jeopardize everything, but it was still frustrating. It was a pretty standard day, outside of a little extra time spent with his best friends. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, until he got an email from All Might. He reread it at least ten times before shrieking, triggering his quirk on accident. Poor Nem and Sho, but seriously, All Might wanted to be on his radio show to talk about mental health and destigmatizing mental illness! They had to tell him to breathe in between his excited outbursts. He was feeling such a strange mix of emotions that he could feel the tears in his eyes. He wanted to be happy, but everything could go so wrong so quickly.
“I admire your tenacity, Present Mic. Everything you’ve done for Mental Health Awareness, it’s very admirable.”
Mic was speechless, but he played it cool, he had to, he was on air.
“I appreciate that, All Might! You’re the first Pro to say anything. So, seriously, I appreciate that.”
“I want to give money to the cause. I might not understand what people are going through, but I can empathize. Let me help.”
Who knew all it took was All Might opening his checkbook for the hero world to change their minds about mental health. Suddenly it was the in thing to be pro mental health. It was a blessing and a curse, but it was better than nothing. All Might helped Hizashi with getting in with some politicians to work on legislation. They worked with getting heroes, civilians, and even villains (in custody) access to whatever it was they needed. It was slow, but needed because Hizashi was not going to let another kid suffer like he did.
A year after the All Might interview, agencies were begging for him to join them. Hizashi had gone from being a smudge on the hero community to being this shining beacon. He declined them all, uninterested in dealing with people who would drop him when mental health was no longer the cool thing. He had heard that had happened when homosexuality was still something people fought for. Heroes would be used as a token, only to be dropped when being gay or queer wasn’t the in thing. No thanks, Hizashi was better off doing the independent thing. He wouldn’t go full underground like Shouta, but he certainly wasn’t going to an agency any time soon. No, he liked his odd hero jobs. Between teaching and the radio, he had just enough time to kick a couple of villain asses. He still had moments where worry crept up, that he would lose control and his illness would win, but that was all part of the fight. It was a long fight, and it was time people knew about it.
“Dear listeners, as you know, I’m closing in on my fifth year at the radio station, so I thought I’d do something a little different. How about I tell you my mental health journey.”
Write a short story, poem or anything that inspires you based on one of these prompts and tag it with #inkstay. Make it clear somewhere in the post that it is written for one of the inkstay June prompts (also mention specifically which prompt you’re writing for) and post it before the 25th if you want your work to appear in the magazine.
Prompts of the month
1# - A summoner trying to save demons from hell
2# - A city where everyone is required to grow plants on their roof
3# - Someone traveling the world trying to find a lost day
4# - A world where rain is boiling hot
5# - Two star crossed lovers know they live in the same city, but they can never find each other
6# - A god lashing out when they are no longer worshipped
7# - A doctor makes a huge medical breakthrough, how do they feel?
8# - People bury their secrets 6 feet under, anything less and you know it’s gonna crawl right back out…
9# - Someone trying to save some spring sun in a jar to counter the summer rains
10# - A flower that won’t wilt as long as people keep passing it on to someone they love
kaledo-art
andulkaphoto
yousharknotpass
kianamaiart
blakekathryn
2087
gummygunk
theartofmadeline
janainaart
