Lynn's Workshop

I make things, I break things. Art ● Writing ● D&D ● Sims 4

[twocentmotivation-deactivated20]

motivation

two cent motivation - 9-26, 8:26pm

[writing-prompt-s]

Little Red Riding Hood isn’t an idiot. She knows the creature before her isn’t her grandmother. But honestly, this wolf has been nicer to her more than her grandmother ever had been.

[lynnsworkshop]

Writing Snippet #1

I had trouble moving on to the next Laketober prompt, so took a bit of a break and wrote this drabble as a way to loosen up the ol’ writing muscles. It actually began as an attempt at Day 5: Butterfly, but morphed into this pretty early on and I just rolled with it.

(More below the cut)

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There was a man in the woods, gathering sticks. He wore a fleece jacket and a trapper hat. Mud caked his leather shoes, dulling the brass of their buckles.

Behind him stood a cabin, almost completely overgrown with ivy, camouflaged in a way that I hadn't noticed it at first. The weather-worn door was barred from the outside.

The man didn't acknowledge my presence until I asked him what he was doing, to which he replied, "Preparing."

"For what?" I pressed, increasingly curious.

"For the bird."

Confused and fascinated, I watched as he laid the sticks down on the forest ground, one by one, to form a straight line. He stepped back from his work with his arms crossed.

Above us, the sun had sunk down to the horizon, its light painting the woods a golden orange. To the east, the moon rose. As the sky darkened, my strange companion shuffled his feet. His expression grew more anxious with each passing second.

The moment the sun disappeared from sight, a thunderous cry sounded, everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Buk buk ba-gawk!

Trees fell and splinters flew as a gigantic bird, the size of a house, crashed into the clearing.

I screamed and made to run, but the man caught my wrist in a vice-like grip. "Do not cross the line." He spoke the warning with enough fervency that I froze immediately in my tracks.

The bird, which was a hen, strutted towards us, the feathers on her neck raised in threat. A new wave of terror accompanied her every step. Everything in me urged me to flee, to escape.

"It's okay, she won't breech the barrier." I could barely hear the words of assurance over the blood rushing through my ears.

The hen approached closer still and craned her neck down to us humans, insignificantly small in comparison to her. She stopped just shy of passing over the line of sticks and stared.

Bwok!

The man met her gaze, matching the bird's intensity. "It's time for you to leave," he commanded, his voice calm despite the enormous chicken towering over us.

She straightened with another cry and flapped her wings, creating a breeze that nearly knocked me off of my feet.

“Go on now.”

The hen took a step back. Kicked. Then turned, thumping back in the forest.

Naturally, after I had gotten over my shock, I demanded to know what had just happened. The man merely shrugged.

"She comes every night," he explained. "All I can do is keep performing the ritual to keep her at bay."

 "Ritual? What ritual?"

"Well, the first thing you do is count to two and make sure your shoes are buckled."

[lynnsworkshop]

Laketober 2022 - Day 4: Resurrection

I’m not too happy with this one, but I had fun writing it! This is a continuation of the storyline that started on Day 1 here. I’m not sure yet if I’ll continue it further, but I guess we’ll see! 

(More below the cut)

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Fall 2022

Because of their association with the paranormal, many people don’t consider shadow people true cryptids. I’m still going to be looking into them, since there were actually more reports of them near Rusty Lake than there were of Mothman. Traditionally, shadow people are considered ill omens, many being sighted in hospitals or otherwise around the dying. I find it interesting that two cryptids associated with signs of negative things to come have been seen in this area. It makes me want to look into the history of Rusty Lake.

I arrived in town this morning. I wasn’t expecting a welcome wagon, but to call the locals unfriendly would be an understatement. The general store clerk was derisive and the whole time I was there, I felt like I was being stared at by the other patrons. To be fair, it doesn’t look like Rusty Lake gets a lot of tourism. They’re probably just unused to strangers.

Finding a place to stay wasn’t easy, but I managed to get a room at the Rusty Lake Hotel, which is actually located on an island at the center of the lake. I need to take a ferry to get here and back, but the view from my window is truly breathtaking and I think this would be the best place to potentially spot the lake monster. Weirdly enough, I haven’t seen any staff yet. All of the arrangements were made over the phone and my room key was waiting for me on the front desk when I arrived. It’s very quiet, but that’s a good thing. It makes it easier to think.

Most of the sightings that were mentioned on my cryptozoology forum took place in the forest located along the lakeside, so that’s where I’m going to be focusing my efforts. I got a few cameras set up already and I’ll probably go check things out tonight after sunset. Hopefully there will be some action. I’m not expecting a lot, but it’s always good to start an investigation with a high note.

The woman I’d spoken to before seemed pretty convinced that the shadow people are some kind of ghosts. I’m not so sure about the whole life after death idea, instead leaning more towards the theory that the shadow people could be echos imprinted on the surrounding environment. I plan on asking the locals about their beliefs once they’re less reclusive around me.

Another report rolled in during my drive over. This one includes photographs of something that looks like a buck at first glance, but further examination reveals an almost humanoid body, partially obscured by foliage. This could potentially be a skinwalker or wendigo, or most likely, due to the lack of similar sightings, a hoax. Still, I’ve made a note of it and will keep my eyes peeled for any strange deer that decide to cross my path.

[lynnsworkshop]

Laketober 2022 - Day 3: Experiment

Disclaimer: I’m not a scientist, so if I misused some terms that’s my bad. This snippet follows a separate storyline from Day 1.

(More below the cut)

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Day 479 

Another blue cube has spontaneously combusted. My supply is running despairingly low and I will need to restock before long, although I dread the questions that will accompany the event. It is crucial that this experiment remains confidential. Unfortunately, Mr. Owl’s knowledge of it will doubtless be joined with his disapproval, and I cannot allow that to put an end to my research.

The reverse-engineering process has proven to be a more difficult task than I had originally anticipated. It seems that 4000 is too high of a voltage. 2000 had been underwhelming in previous tests, therefore I am meeting them in the middle with this next attempt at 3000 volts of electricity.

Day 480 

Temporal displacement levels remain in the negative, while quantum energy is nearly zeroed out. The latter variable resulted in an incident which involved a minor vacuum materializing. The problem was contained, although not before it had consumed a third of my workstation. 

I view this as a positive development. It means that I am nearing the halfway mark. Ideally, I will surpass it before more of my laboratory is taken in by anti-matter. The vacuum is already showing signs of corruption and it might be a wise decision to take stricter precautions before proceeding further.

Day 481 

Once again, my sleep schedule is impeding on my ability to practice my scientific pursuits efficiently. Caffeination can extend my wakefulness to six hours, or eight depending on the dosage, effectively doubling my productivity, however its benefits are limited and extended use has caused worrisome heart palpitations. It begs the question if so-called enlightenment is worth its animalistic drawbacks, although I will admit that I did suffer from irregular sleeping patterns before I underwent the transformation. Moreover, the additional thumbs have proven useful. 

I have begun rationing out the blue cubes, substituting them with lapis lazuli during the less pivotal tests. Its similarity to lapis philosophorum makes it the best possible replacement and the risk of corruption is significantly lower.

Day 482 

The latest result is anything but stable, however its temporal displacement levels are, excitingly, positive. Besides some dimensional warping, it seems to be able to maintain an inertial frame of reference comparable to that of the golden cube. It is my belief that I am closer than ever to mimicking its time-altering effects, with only a minimal risk of creating a paradox. 

My largest concern has to do with the apparent expansion of the accidental vacuum. The glass around it has begun to crack and when I crossed the area an hour ago, I could have sworn I heard voices. I will have to start looking into ways to close it. A repeat of December ‘09 would be undesirable.

Day 483 

Either I have finally done it or I have broken the laws of reality again.

— from the journal of Professor Koala

[lynnsworkshop]

Laketober 2022 - Day 2: Rose Vanderboom

I couldn’t figure out how to write Day 2′s prompt, so I drew it instead! Rose’s hair was a nightmare but I’m quite pleased with the finished result.

[lynnsworkshop]

Laketober 2022 - Day 1: Future

Hello all! I have emerged from the depths to participate in Rusty Lake’s Laketober event! I hope to be more active soon; still have a couple of stories in the works. Thanks for sticking with me this long!

(More below the cut)

CW: references to a real-life disaster

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Fall 2022

Ever since I was little, I’d loved the idea of cryptids, animals that may or may not exist. Sasquatch was a favorite of mine. Nessie too, of course. I fancied myself a cryptozoologist, someone who studied such creatures.

Then one day, I caught a documentary on the local history channel about a being known as Mothman. For around a one-year period, beginning in November of 1966, residents of Point Pleasant, West Virginia reported seeing a 5-7 foot tall figure with a 10-foot wingspan. It flew shockingly fast, keeping pace with highway speeds, omitting a shrill screech and lighting its way with glowing red eyes. Its last sighting took place at Point Pleasant’s Silver Bridge about a month before the structure collapsed. Some regarded Mothman as a “specter of death”.

The supernatural implications, along with the multiple eyewitness accounts, are what hooked me. Mothman was unlike any cryptid I’d heard of before. So, when new reports started trickling in last month on my favorite cryptozoology forum, I knew I had to go digging.

It began with a person claiming to have seen Mothman outside of their home in Canada. The creature stood atop a tree “like a great shadow”, remaining still for several minutes before taking flight and disappearing behind a row of trees. The second account described a large winged figure with red eyes flying over a road in northern Ontario. However, as the reports went on, they seemed to describe something more akin to Britain’s Owlman, commenting on pointed ears, clawed feet, and even a feathery appearance.

A location was brought up more than once, somewhere called Rusty Lake. That’s when the figurative dam burst. The trickle turned into a flood as people began to recount events involving not only this supposed Mothman, but also shadow people and even a lake monster. This Rusty Lake appeared to be a cryptozoological treasure trove.

I managed to get in contact with a woman who lived in the Rusty Lake area. She was reluctant to open up about the strangeness surrounding her home at first, but I persuaded her to after promising to keep her identity a secret.

“Things like your cryptids have inhabited Rusty Lake since long before I was born,” she wrote.

I messaged her back. “What kind of things?”

“They used to be human, is what I’m told. Part man and part beast. Ghosts of them too, wandering the Lake.”

“Have you ever seen one?

“Once, the Owl. It’s never a good thing when you do. They’re an omen of death. The Vanderboom brothers tempted them and the entire family was cursed. Generation after generation was met with tragedy. They’re all dead now.”

“Have investigations ever taken place?”

“People have come looking for the Lake, yes. It draws you in. Like a siren’s song, an itch that needs to be scratched, you know? Most haven’t returned. I’d advise against joining them.”

“Ghost stories don’t scare me.”

“They should.”

Despite her warnings, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this. In the 21st Century, actual cryptid sightings like this were almost nonexistent. Google, surprisingly, didn’t yield a reliable result on Rusty Lake’s location. When I asked the woman, she stopped returning my messages. I was left having to turn to a good old-fashioned library.

My search would’ve lasted much longer if it weren’t for my amazing local librarians. They really took it upon themselves to help me crack the mystery of where in the world Rusty Lake is. I think they were just happy to have something to do.

Finally, yesterday, we uncovered a yellowed newspaper clipping from 1969: “Win a trip to Rusty Lake...”

[lynnsworkshop]

Hi! I realize that I kind of disappeared for a little while. My inspiration has been running low lately, so I haven’t had any new writing or art to share. When that happens from now on, I’m going to try writing little blurbs like this to let y’all know that I’m still alive. I am working on a short snippet at the moment, and also a couple longer fanfictions.

Since I’m on the subject, what platforms would y’all recommend for sharing fanfictions? I’m still very new to this. Should I share a little preview of each chapter on here and then link the full chapter on AO3 or whatever website I eventually decide on using? What’s usually done?

I hope this update find you well. Cheers!

[lynnsworkshop]

Well it seems that I uh disappeared again. I’ve been in a sort of creative slump. I should probably say now that I don’t think I’m going to be posting regularly at all. This blog is something I’m doing for fun, so it’s not going to be a top priority of me. I will still try to post as often as I can and I guess we’ll see what happens.

[watercolorfreckles]

A Choice to Love You (Prompt Fill)

TW: Slight violence/angst (but it's otherwise cute)

Prompt is from @nuttynutcycle

"I feel stolkholm syndromed!" The villain pressed their face against the bars. "There's only one cure. Let me out so I can take you to dinner. I totally won't escape."

The prison guard sighed.

Villain's flirty quips were starting to get ridiculous, and even harder to ignore.

She was sure his strategy was to annoy her to death. It just might have been working.

Though Guard's back was turned to Villain, she heard the tip-tap of his nails drumming against the bars. "Oh my dearest guard," he sing-songed.

Guard glanced upward in a silent plea to the heavens. For what, exactly, she couldn't say. "Shut up, Villain."

"Aww, you don't mean that, doll," Villain said, the pout evident in his voice. "Why don't you unlock this door and I'll make it up to you. I can be very persuasive."

Guard shot him a look over her shoulder at that. The shorter pieces of hair that escaped her ponytail swept into her eyes and she tucked them back with a glare. "You're persuading me to ram my head into a brick wall. Repeatedly." Her tone was desert-dry.

Villain flashed a glowing smile like she'd just told a particularly funny joke. "Oh, doll." He tutted. His voice turned silken, eyes gleaming with mischief. "We can't have you scuffing up that pretty face of yours. That would be the real crime. You'd have to lock yourself in here."

Guard rolled her eyes and turned all the way around to face him. She loathed the way her cheeks tinged with heat at his words. Anything out of his mouth, even his particularly dorky brand of charm, was pure manipulation. Nothing from Villain could be trusted.

"What part of shut up are you unable to grasp?" She asked, lifting a brow. "I don't get paid enough to listen to you yapping on and on every day."

Villain eyed her with delight, and she immediately felt she'd misstepped. "If you'd like to come in here and shut me up, you'll hear no complaints from me."

Guard pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers, exhaling slowly. "You are insufferable," she murmured.

Villain casually rested his arms so they dangled outside the bars, looking Guard up and down. Not that there was much to see through her silver armor; a modernized version far thinner and less bulky than the clunky beasts of medieval times, but a strong, sleek suit of metal providing all of the same protection.

Villain's sleeves were rolled up half of the way, revealing the lean muscle underneath.

His eyes were still bright. They almost glowed honeyed in the dim light, like melted caramel.

"I'll be anything for you, baby," Villain purred, setting Guard's insides alight.

He was looking at her like she was something to devour whole.

"Oh my gods." Guard turned her back to Villain again, hand twitching over the hilt of her weapon. Its steady weight was a comfort against her hip even as her face went hot.

"Now, now. Don't be that way. Want a piece of advice?"

"No. But I have a sneaking suspicion you'll keep speaking anyway," Guard deadpanned.

Villain barreled on, undeterred. "In 2 minutes, I'll be out of this cell. I'd prefer you comply quietly and offer your beautiful helping hands, but since I know you won't, I apologize in advance for the bruises."

That shot a cold trill down her spine.

His tone had changed. It morphed into something more serious, more like he was admonishing a child who scraped their knee when running into the street after being warned of its dangers and disobeying anyway.

Guard's eyes shot back to Villain. "What?"

She whipped back around as an alarm blared through the compound.

Someone had made it through the first 3 defenses and into the compound. It wouldn't be long until the intruders were at her door, if Villain was who they were after.

Guard moved with practiced efficiency refined by years of training and dialed the distress code into the keypad on the wall, then swinging the built-in barricade down and locking it into place.

She backed away from the door and closer to the cell so as to have the widest view of the room.

Guard unholstered her weapon and raised her communicator to her mouth, inhaling to speak when a soft creak sounded behind her.

The cell door was open.

Before she could finish whirling around, Villain had looped the chain that connected his handcuffs, around her neck and yanked her flush against him, dragging her into the belly of the cell.

Guard scrabbled at the suffocating force, raising her weapon with her free hand, but Villain jerked them both into the wall with a pained grunt, knocking it from her hands.

The world went slightly fuzzy at the impact.

Guard's stomach flipped as she made to grab for the weapon from the floor, but Villain wrenched the chains tighter against her throat in warning.

She made a choked attempt at gasping for air.

She was only faintly aware of Villain kicking the gun away. It skidded away against the cement floor.

Spots danced in the edges of her vision.

Villain allowed an inch of slack and she gulped in a breath of air, sputtering and coughing as it caught in her throat.

Lips pressed hot against the shell of her ear and she froze.

"You don't have to fight me, doll." That silken voice was back. "I so preferred it not to come to this. Unlock my shackles and I'll be on my way."

The power-suppressing cuffs on Villain's wrists were fingerprint activated. They could only be removed by Hero himself, or of course, his most trusted guard.

Guard sucked in a few more ragged breaths, hands gripping at the chain pressing just a little too hard against her windpipe.

"I won't," she rasped. "You'll have to kill me and scan the thumb of my cold, dead corpse."

She tried to slam her head back, but Villain was tall enough that it wouldn't collide with his nose anyway.

Villain gave the chain a slight tug and Guard craned onto her toes to accommodate, pressing back against Villain's chest to alleviate the added pressure.

A twinge of panic shot through her.

"Now, doll." Villain's voice was a dangerous croon, his breath warming her cheek. "Don't be so stubborn. Any other one of those guards and I'd have snapped their neck by now. We're really all quite lucky it's you instead, don't you agree? None of your friends have to die, you get to walk unscathed--well, apart from the swelling, I am sorry for that, lover--and I leave this building without quaking it to the ground with your beloved team inside. What do you say?"

There was banging against the barricaded door, shouts and gunshots ringing out.

Guard's gut twisted, wondering who was being hurt. Which of her friends would be dead when the door opened?"

When she didn't speak, Villain rambled on. "My crew has different preferences for going about this, as you can see, but I fancy you, so I want to give you the choice."

He sounded delighted again.

She heard the rattling of metal as Villain shifted the chains into one hand, using the other to stroke his fingertips gently down Guard's temple, soothing. Despite herself, a shiver rushed through her at the touch.

He leaned in again, this time murmuring against her hair. His voice grew into something tender, something fond. "I'll still take you to dinner. Whatever you'd like, doll. Sky's the limit, at no higher than...$27 a meal."

Guard snorted, then burned guilty for it.

Villain pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "No one has to get hurt, lover." He spoke softly. "The choice is yours."

Guard swallowed, squeezing her eyes shut.

She reached over her shoulder to offer up her hand, the key to Villain's freedom etched into her calloused fingertips.

She felt Villain's smile against her hair as he took it gently. The shackles clattered discarded to the floor.

I read this prompt and immediately felt SO INSPIRED. Writing this was FUN and I've missed that!! I also wrote it rly fast and wrote a lot more than I intended, so you know I was enjoying it lol. thank you @nuttynutcycle !! Let me know if you want to see more to this :)

General Taglist: @my-art-wahl, @valiantlytransparentwhispers, @distance-does-not-matter, @redbircl, @lilaccatholic, @crazytwentythrees, @thelazywitchphotographer, @chibicelloking, @lolafaiy, @thinkwrite5, @putridghost, @tobeornottobeateacher, @sunflower1000, @bouncyartist, @feyriddle, @yet-another-heathen, @silverwhisperer1, @distractedlydistracted, @pensivespacepirate, @appleejuice, @deflated-bouncingball @maybe-a-cat42, @m0chik0furan, @mercurymom, @fairysprinkless, @vuvulia, @classicplesiosaur, @amongtheonedaisy, @dabi-s-whore, @rose-pinkie, @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room, @scorpio-smiles, @inkygemuwu, @wolfeyedwitch, @thewhumpmeisterx3000, @xxkitsurikaxx, @moonquires, @lem-hhn, @fanastywhump, @smallangryfish, @ladybookworm, @freefallingup13, @acaiaforrest, @a-blue-comedy, @puppyaddict, @pickleking8, @a-person-who-likes-musicals, @talkingsperm, @qualitychaoslover, @dionysussecretlovechild , @lynnsworkshop

Let me know if you want to be added or removed!

[watercolorfreckles]

Just to Impress You

prompt by @some-messed-up-writing-for-you

Prompt indented

Supervillain stood with their arms crossed. They appeared calm on the outside, but on the inside, they were a raging storm waiting to strike down the idiot staring up at them smugly.

The young villain standing before them had a cocky grin on their face and watched the supervillain from the other side of the magical barrier. They truly believed they had trapped the master criminal inside it with their power. “You really are just a bunch of big talk, huh?”

Supervillain’s expression remained blank as they remained quiet. They summoned a fraction of their power into their hand and made a flicking motion, popping the glowing bubble around them like a balloon.

The supervillain raised an eyebrow as Villain visibly paled and dashed away, starting the chase.

The young villain, barely 16, fled down the alley, pebbles of asphalt scattering under the tread of his sneakers.

Oh this was bad, this was so, so bad...

He dashed into the street without heed, car horns blaring and drivers shouting over the squeal of tires narrowly dodging the young villain.

Villain flinched as a taxi skidded into him, unable to stop in time, and he rolled over its hood with a series of thuds.

"S-Sorry!" he blurted, sprinting onward.

He chanced a glance behind him. Supervillain was right there. Though the man wasn't running, his long strides carried him just as efficiently, as if he were gliding on ice.

A humiliating squeak escaped Villain.

If he could just get around this next corner, he could climb the fire escape and maybe then...

"This is really just a mis-misunderstanding, maybe we could just- Ah!"

Supervillain seized the boy by the collar of his shirt, yanking him precariously onto his toes and slamming him against the wall.

Villain scrabbled at the older villain's grip for a few seconds, kicking his feet which were only barely grazing the floor. "Let me go!"

A glance at Supervillain's hardened expression froze him to the spot. He stopped struggling, limbs going slack to obey the unspoken command.

Oh crap, he was so dead... So, so dead.

He almost wanted to laugh. He had been so smug, so sure he could contain a man as powerful as Supervillain, and with what? His own silly tech-fuelled superpowers he'd cooked up in a high school lab?

He'd really thought he'd done it, for a moment there... For all of 3 seconds, Supervillain was apprehended under his control. The adrenaline rush was exhilarating.

Now it was a suffocating force; a thrashing heartbeat and breaths that wouldn't come.

Supervillain's face was a blank slate, some unmovable stone that wouldn't yield.

It chilled Villain to the bone.

When Supervillain spoke, his tone was smooth--level in an almost mechanical way that seized hold of his attention. It was low and flowing, icy with a dangerous edge. "Bit off a bit more than you could chew, did you?"

"Um." Villain swallowed, straining to touch the floor.

All words seemed to leave him, too frazzled to form a coherent thought. All that came out was a raspy-

"-I bet you admire my tenacity, right?"

Supervillain's brown quirked, the only change in his otherwise stoic mask. He gently lifted a hand, palm crackling with power.

Villain's vision went foggy at the edges.

Supervillain gave a long-suffering sigh. His tone turned more pitying.

"These heroes recruit younger and younger these days. I don't enjoy hurting children, boy, truly. But there's only one way to make them learn."

He moved the hand, swarming with power, closer to Villain's neck.

His stomach bottomed out.

"I'm not a hero, I'm not, I swear!" He squealed, writing in a panic once more.

Supervillain frowned, but paused, looking the younger villain over. "Then what are you? A sidekick? Someone's pet?"

Ouch...

"I'm, uh--" He swallowed, cheeks burning. It was embarrassing to say it now. "A villain. Like you."

He tracked Supervillain's expression but it didn't change. He expected the man to laugh. Instead, he stared.

Villain tried not to squirm beneath it.

The energy in Supervillain's palm snuffed out of existence, and he used the now-free hand to swipe it over his face, rubbing at the dark circles under his eyes. He looked more than a little irate, now.

"Then why, pray tell, were you trying to apprehend me?"

A broken smile, still a little horrified at the edges, graced the boy's face. "I, ah.... Wanted to make an impression on you?"

There was silence.

Another deep sigh.

Villain's feet suddenly hit the floor, the grip on his clothes vanishing.

"Next time," Supervillain said, voice low, "I'll vaporize you. Hero or villain, this is not a game for children."

Villain frowned. "I'm not a--"

He promptly shut up at the glare Supervillain shot him.

Supervillain ruffled the boy's hair, too rough to be affectionate. Villain braced himself against it.

Supervillain leaned closer, wetting his lips. "Do not count on my mercy a second time."

With that, he checked his watch and his empty expression slotted back into place. He turned away, starting back the way they had come.

The streetlights flickered and sparked above him as if crowning his way, some cosmic admission of who's world it really was.

Villain ached for that kid of purpose.

Now he really wanted to impress him.

idk what this is but here you go. i only skim edited this, yolo :))

General Taglist: @my-art-wahl, @valiantlytransparentwhispers, @distance-does-not-matter, @redbircl, @lilaccatholic, @crazytwentythrees, @thelazywitchphotographer, @chibicelloking, @lolafaiy, @thinkwrite5, @putridghost, @tobeornottobeateacher, @sunflower1000, @bouncyartist, @feyriddle, @yet-another-heathen, @silverwhisperer1, @distractedlydistracted, @pensivespacepirate, @appleejuice, @deflated-bouncingball@maybe-a-cat42, @m0chik0furan, @mercurymom, @fairysprinkless, @vuvulia, @classicplesiosaur, @amongtheonedaisy, @dabi-s-whore, @rose-pinkie, @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room, @scorpio-smiles, @inkygemuwu, @wolfeyedwitch, @thewhumpmeisterx3000, @xxkitsurikaxx, @moonquires, @lem-hhn, @fanastywhump, @smallangryfish, @ladybookworm, @freefallingup13, @acaiaforrest, @a-blue-comedy, @puppyaddict, @pickleking8, @a-person-who-likes-musicals, @talkingsperm, @qualitychaoslover, @dionysussecretlovechild , @lynnsworkshop

Let me know if you want to be added or removed!

[writing-prompt-s]

You are amortal, not immortal, most don’t know or care for the distinction but the two conditions could not be more different

[lynnsworkshop]

Hi! I realize that I kind of disappeared for a little while. My inspiration has been running low lately, so I haven’t had any new writing or art to share. When that happens from now on, I’m going to try writing little blurbs like this to let y’all know that I’m still alive. I am working on a short snippet at the moment, and also a couple longer fanfictions.

Since I’m on the subject, what platforms would y’all recommend for sharing fanfictions? I’m still very new to this. Should I share a little preview of each chapter on here and then link the full chapter on AO3 or whatever website I eventually decide on using? What’s usually done?

I hope this update find you well. Cheers!

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Writing Snippet #9

*So I had to add oil to my car at a creepy gas station in the middle of the night this week… here’s my “what if” hero/villain snippet inspired by that. (ALSO: this is definitely not meant to be a ‘girls don’t know how to fix cars’ stereotype, it is just 100% that I personally don’t know how to fix cars haha) Hope you enjoy!* 

                       _______________________________________

Click. 

Hero lifted the gas nozzle and returned it to the pump, twisting the gas cap back into place before sliding back into the driver’s seat. 

She turned the key in the ignition. 

Silence. 

She tried again. 

And again. 

After the fourth attempt, she looked around at the nearly deserted gas station. The bright lights of the convenience store were a stark contrast to the midnight sky.

“Not tonight.” She groaned, resting her forehead against the steering wheel. She’d gotten off of a disaster of a twelve hour shift and decided she needed to get out of the city. 

Now she was stuck in the middle of nowhere at a creepy gas station. 

Hero pulled the phone from her pocket, then paused. Who could she call? 

It was the middle of the night. 

She opened her pitifully short message list and clicked on the top number. 

Are you awake? 

The reply was instant.

Yes.

She breathed a sigh of relief. It was the first time she’d been grateful for a sister with insomnia. 

What’s up? Is something wrong? 

I’m at a gas station off exit 31 and my car won’t start. 

I can come get you. 

Sister, you’re two hours away. 

Have you opened the hood? 

Not yet. I just need someone to know where I am in case….

Her phone rang. 

“Hey!”

“Hey.”

“Stay on the phone with me until you’re safe, ok?” 

“Ok.” 

She popped the hood and stepped out of her car. With the phone to one ear, she felt along the underside of the hood until her fingers caught against the latch. 

The hood swung open. That, at least, she could do. 

She frowned as she gazed down at the mass of metal and piping. 

People, she could fix. 

Cars, not so much.

“Hero?” 

“Ya.” 

“Did you check the battery?” She glanced at the battery. 

“It looks fine.” 

“Wow. Astounding diagnosis, Doctor.” 

“Ugh. You know I’m not a car person. The battery looks fine. I had it replaced like a month ago… there was all this gross white stuff on it…” she shuddered.

“You literally perform surgery all day, and you’re grossed out by a corroded battery?” 

She opened her mouth to retort when a car skidded to a stop behind her. 

A man leaned out the window. “You need help, sweetheart?” He pulled open his door.

A second man hopped out of the passenger’s side. 

She was vaguely aware of her sister talking in her ear as warning bells began ringing in her mind at their approach. “Hero? What’s going on?” She tapped the button to turn it to speakerphone. 

“I’m fine. Thanks.” She took a step to the side, towards the store. 

“It looks like you could use a ride.” 

A hand came down on her shoulder and gently pulled her back a couple steps.

“She said she’s fine.” There was something familiar about the voice. 

“We’re just offering a ride, sweetheart. Maybe you’d like one too.” 

A short girl clad in black leather stepped between Hero and the men, her shoulder-length black hair swinging as she shook her head. 

“Boys, Boys. We’re fine,” she growled, pushing her jacket to the side to rest a hand on the gun at her hip.

“Woah there, little lady. We didn’t mean no offense…” The men made a hasty retreat to their car, and she turned to Hero as they peeled out onto the road. 

Hero let out a slow breath as she looked into the face of her rescuer and her fading panic returned ten-fold. It was Villain’s Sidekick. 

Keep reading

[watercolorfreckles]

Brain Waves - Part 3

Exactly 0 people asked for this but I felt like it so here you go lol

Part 1, Part 2

The world did not wait for them. It rattled on, begging Hero of his attention, of his saving, even as it burned and cracked.

Villain resented the way the world swept Hero, her Hero, away from her like the pull of a tide. She was the most powerful villain in the world and she felt like an afterthought.

The thought that she should kill him for having the audacity to make her feel this way twisted like a knife to her chest. The idea was swiftly chased away by another, one far more solid; more constant. She could never. She loved him.

Villain stared out her penthouse window, watching civilians flee and scramble like ants below. She swirled her glass of champagne and took a sip, leaving a red lipstick stain on the rim.

Hero had promised her that they would be together separate from organizations and the world that campaigned to split them into two warring sides. That none of it would matter with the two of them against the world--or holding it together, depending on who was doing the talking. Hero was so optimistic it settled sickly sweet in her stomach.

For a little while, it worked. When they were alone, life outside of them seemed to still. As villains popped up and threatened their happiness together, Villain flicked them away like pesky flies.

They were insignificant. Batting them away was as easy as breathing to her. Sometimes she caught her Hero's admiring stare, warm against her face.

Hero had joked that her helping him defeat villains made her something suspiciously close to a hero. Villain had soured and reminded him it was "Only for you, My Sweet."

The problem arose when this new villain came into town. They called him Cloak.

The villain of the day had invisibility powers. And Villain could not control what she could not see.

That wasn't precisely true... Villain's power could work on people behind closed doors and on the other sides of walls. She could sense their presence like a hot blip on an infrared camera. What she couldn't see with her own eyes, she could usually make up for in her mind, even if her eyes were closed.

The inner workings of nerve and muscle called to her like a siren song. Every system its own clear note. She could read the fuzzy outlines and track the twitches and pulsings of any human body around her.

But Cloak's power seemed to extend beyond just whether he was visible to others or not. When she couldn't see him, she couldn't sense him. It was as if he blipped from existence.

Villain drummed her nails against the windowsill, glancing restlessly at the clock on the wall. Hero should be back by now.

The incessant tick-tock mocked her and she wished she could seize control of the insufferable piece of artifice the way she could a person. She settled for yanking it off of the wall and dropping it forcefully into the trash can with the clinking of broken glass.

Fine, I'll find Hero myself. She turned to leave just in time to watch him phase through the wall.

Hero slumped against the table, out of breath.

A dozen emotions bubbled to the surface.

Villain marched over, poking him in the chest with a finger. "I told you not to go after him, Hero! Why don't you listen!"

Hero had scarcely had time to open his mouth to respond before Villain was tugging open the buttons of his shirt to check him for injuries, quickly resorting to "scanning" him with her abilities when evaluating him manually wasn't fast enough for her.

The gentle pull of her power swept over Hero, sending a shiver trickling down his spine. "Hey- I'm fine," he said, wrapping his arms around himself protectively. As if that could keep her gift at bay.

The look Villain shot him was scathing.

Keep reading

[lynnsworkshop]

Prompt Response #2

This turned out a lot shorter than I expected. It’s in response to this prompt by @some-messed-up-writing-for-you, which I am putting just below this paragraph for context. I’m not especially happy with how my snippet came out, but ta da all the same! :) 

“Fourteen…” - Villain mumbled, barely holding in their rage as their minion shook under their stare. “Out of three thousand henchmen…, only FOURTEEN OF THEM CAME BACK?!”

CW: mild violence, choking

My cast of characters, also for context:

Nev'r Drem: a dark-wizard-turned-lich

Aznir: a fallen paladin

The Daughter of Malice (mentioned): essentially a deity with domain over evil

● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ●

Nev'r's voice echoed around the chamber. "You incompetent corpses!" The air crackled with dark energy. "I've had my fill of mindless skeletons!" His bony fingers twisted in incantation and what was left of his army crumbled into dust.

Aznir flinched. "My liege...it is Malice we're up against."

The lich's eyes flared alive, sparking with black flame. "Did something give you the impression that I had forgotten?"

"No, Master." He took a step back. "No, not at—not at all. I only meant—" A coil of energy seized him by the neck.

"Only. Meant. What?"

"Malice," Aznir rasped, "she created...our...kind."

Nev'r studied him. "You're correct, general," he reflected, "She did." The tendril released its hold and the knight fell to his hands and knees, gasping.

The lich turned away. "How foolish it was to send undead after the Queen of Death. No, I need something different. Something…pure." He spat out the word. "Untainted by Malice. And stupid enough to not realize whose side they're fighting on. Like...an adventuring party."

He paused. His face twisted into something like a smile. "An adventuring party," he said again, "Yes, on a quest to capture The Daughter of Malice herself. They will be approached by a stranger in a tavern. Or an advertisement on a quest board will catch their fancy, I'll leave the details up to you, general."

"Me?" Aznir wheezed, still clutching his throat.

"Yes, you. My apprentice is otherwise occupied and without an army to command you're practically useless." His nose wrinkled. "So be useful instead and entrap some heroes."

[writing-prompt-s]

Almost immediately after the invention of the time machine, one guy said he would go back in time to kill his own grandmother. He never returned. Nobody knows exactly how time travel paradoxes are resolved because anybody who creates one never comes back.

[gingerly-writing]

Prompt #3035

“I can’t wait to see you in a wedding dress for me one day.”

“The only time I’m wearing a wedding dress ‘for you’ is to your funeral.”