This is my side blog, dedicated to my writing. It's dedicated both to my fanfiction and to my original works! Feel free to ask about these at any time.
Original Works
Name in Progress, Fantasy: The one I've talked about most on here. It's a fantasy story about undead heroes who are dealing with the consequences of their undead forms. It features a lot of LGBTQIA+ representation in the main cast, including an intersex character, and has very deep world-building.
SuperPsych, Science Fiction: This is a story taking place in 2030 America. In a world where a small percentage of humanity is born with some kind of superpower, there is a facility made to house a small collection of the few known people with powers. This group of six five each of whom has some kind of disorder. The point of the story is to humanize people with disorders, since such individuals experience a significant amount of stigma. I have made sure to do thorough research into the disorder of each character, and I will continue to do more research as I develop each character. I also plan to take care to make sure I don't add to the stigma, and to ensure that each character is not just their disorder; they'll each have their own personalities, backgrounds, abilities, desires, fears, goals, and motivations, all of which will simply be shaped in part by their respective disorders.
Name in Progress, Science Fiction: This is a story taking place in 2226, in space! Humanity has been colonizing space for well over a century at this point. Faster-than-light travel has been invented. Various powerful corporations make goods and services for the nations and people of the universe. The protagonist, Technician Yuna Kang-Shaw, experienced an accident two years ago, which destroyed most of her body. The corporation Asclepius Co. was able to repair her with cybernetic enhancements, thanks in large part to her body's unique biology and interaction with cybernetics. Still, they had no prosthetics for mouths, and her mouth and voice have remained lost. The story follows her path to recovering her confidence, social ability, and her ability to eat and speak, as Asclepius Co.'s R&D subgroup known as "Team Charybdis" works hard to build her a prosthetic mouth. Very much a character-focused story with very little action but a lot of social interaction, internal conflict, interpersonal drama, and finding oneself after horrible, catastrophic bodily damage.
Others are still being conceptualized, but always feel free to ask! I have about 3 planned Science Fiction stories, two of which have moderate horror elements.
Fanfiction
I do take fic requests! Here are the rules about that, followed by a masterlist!
Fandoms I Currently Write For:
TADC (I am currently accepting requests for all characters, though I would prefer requests that don't involve Jax).
Request Rules:
No Explicitly NSFW Requests at this time. I am only a minor (17) and don't feel comfortable writing that, let alone posting it on the internet. That being said, I do take suggestive requests, so long as there's nothing explicit.
I am currently only accepting x Reader requests.
Patience is a virtue; I am busy with schoolwork and preparation for college, as well as self-improvement, so I may not always find time to write requests quickly. But I will always do my best to get around to writing them eventually!
The more specific the request, the better. For example, instead of just, "Can you write (character) x Reader?" I would prefer something like, "Can you write (character) x Reader who is insecure about their body, and (character) comforts them?" or "Can you write (character) x Reader, on a date at the beach?"
Masterlist:
Ragatha x Cowboy Reader Who's Scared of Horses
Bazooble x Reader, Bazooble Oblivious to Reader's Confession.
Siren Song Part 1
Siren Song Part 2
Spite (A Rain World Fanfic)
.
More to come!.
I also write fanfiction either for myself or for Pharloomblr, the Hollow Knight: Silksong Roleplay community on Tumblr. I'll eventually post all those fanfics here.
Other Blogs
Main Blog: @ihavenocluewhatiwanttobecalled
Side Blog, Roleplay Ask Blog for my TADC OC: @theamazingdigitalguardianangel.
Side Blog, Roleplay Pharloomblr Ask Blog for my Silk Song OC: @thelastescalion.
Side Blog, Roleplay Pharloomblr Ask Blog for the Twelfth Architect: @twelfth-architect-official.
There should be a name for the phenomena where something does a plot or elements that enters the public conscious as a cliche despite most instances of it's actually being a parody of 1 or very few in ironic examples.
Like there are almost no horror movies that are earnestly about a group of teens going to a cabin in the woods and getting got by monsters, almost every example is either a parody or satire or a subversion,
If you're a new writer and you're asking yourself "is this too personal, is this too much, will people think this is weird" that feeling is the exact location of your actual voice. The stuff that makes you want to close the laptop is the stuff nobody else could write. The safe version is always worse. Always. I have never once read something and thought "this would have been better if it was a little less honest." go further. It's always go further.
Some day I want to see a video game that does the "special moves which represent flirting with the monsters" thing that lets characters of multiple genders do it and gives the monsters discernible preferences. Like, forget fanwanking an explanation for why all monsters are sexually attracted to human women – I want to see the fandom wiki try to rationalise why the cyclopean pillar of lambent crystal, specifically, is into twinks.
(For clarity, I'm not referring to softcore porn games where all the "monsters" have essentially human personalities and motivations and often look like sexy humans with random monster bits glued on. I'm talking about like 1990s/2000s JRPGs where your sole female party member has a special move called "Flirt" that inflicts the Charmed status and works on every non-boss monster in the game, even the ones that are hostile architecture or animated pillars of flame or living mathematical equations. I want to expand upon and interrogate that.)
"You didn't correct me. Anyway. It has been sitting in this cave for over a million years. It has watched ages of the world pass by. The rise and fall of multiple kingdoms. It's wisdom is unmatched saved by the Holy Tree of Eternity."
"Correct."
"And it has a thing for MILFs."
"And DILFs."
"... I have not had enough alcohol to process the day."
"Anyway, we need to hook it up if we want to access the secret treasure."
I want an AU where this is one of the things the identify spell gives you for everything.
"It's a 2000 year old crown made of primarily gold with a light leaf coating. It grants +2 Wis and is sexually attracted to male humans with blue eyes"
"it's chunk of sandstone that was formed in this exact spot it would like to be dominated by an Orc or Furbog."
"it's a chimera, it's dragon head can't actually breathe fire just makes a light show but the goat head can afflict rot. It likes feet."
Hey! This is my first Rain World Fanfic, and it takes place right before (and during) the Ascension Ending of the Hunter campaign. Please, if you're going to comment or reblog, don't spoil anything related to the Saint campaign or the Watch DLC, as I haven't finished the Saint campaign yet and haven't even started the Watcher DLC yet.
Potential Content Warnings Include: Mentions of Fictional Terminal Illness (Rot), Mentions of Hypothetical Loss of Self (Rot), Brief Mentions of Non-Graphic Body Horror (Rot), Brief Mentions of Gore (also Rot)
If I need to add any more content warnings, let me know!
The Hunter walked through the Depths of the world, feeling the weakness in their limbs, feeling the pain in their back.
They had done it.
They recalled their journey. They had been given two items: A pearl, and a green object called a ‘neuron fly.’ They had a target.
They had gone to an Iterator named Five Pebbles first. He had informed them of their goal in more detail. And he had given them more time.
They had long since already known that something foul was growing within them. Five Pebbles merely… confirmed it. He gave them more insight into the problem. And he had regressed the growth, even if only slightly.
They remembered the journey, hard as it was, to the one known as Looks to the Moon. They remembered the many strange, glowing, tentacled creatures that they had visited along the way, who always made them feel more… attuned. Enlightened.
They remembered giving Looks to the Moon the neuron fly, how it had allowed her to wake up. They remembered giving her the pearl, a message from the one who had sponsored this unusual yet miraculous delivery.
She had said something to them, then, about their condition.
You will wake right back up again.
As if on cue, as they recalled that, the Hunter felt a surge of pain in their back, and they doubled over, gasping, growling. Their curse, their enemy, the one that lived within them, it was flaring up.
The Hunter stood up. They continued on their way.
No. No, they wouldn’t wake right back up again.
Or at least, if they did, they would not be themself. They would belong to the thing inside of them.
That’s why they had to do what they were doing.
They had learned from Five Pebbles of a way to escape their fate. The two of them suffered from the same illness, and yet he could not escape it. He was confined to his structure. But the Hunter was mobile. And so Five Pebbles had given them a way out. The old path.
Go to the west past the Farm Arrays, and then down into the earth where the land fissures, as deep as you can reach, where the ancients built their temples and danced their silly rituals.
And so Hunter had done exactly that.
They had traveled as far west as they could, and then down. They had fought off every threat in their way, even as their body betrayed them. They had attained a strange sort of status, one that inspired the tall creatures, the Guardians of the path, to let them pass.
And they saw more of those Guardians now, as they stepped closer.
Tall. Imposing. Tentacled. Strange symbols floating above their ebony bodies. And yet, they allowed the Hunter to pass.
Finally, the Hunter reached a pipe that led down.
They went inside.
Their vision was getting worse. Much worse, at this point.
And they could feel the Rot inside of them.
They had grown familiar with it, as they had traveled, as it had consumed them.
It wasn’t just… dumb. It had an intelligence to it. Some sort of thought to accompany its hunger.
The Hunter felt it rumble and writhe in their spine, more insistently, as they continued to walk.
Did it know what was about to happen? Did it know that the Hunter was about to go somewhere it could not follow?
Good.
The Rot had tried to take away their time. It had tried to take away their life. It had tried to take away their choice. Their agency. The Hunter would not let it.
Fine. The Rot could take away their choice to stay and live their life, but it would not take away the choice to not be consumed.
You get my time. You don’t get me.
The Hunter’s vision got nearly useless as they approached the shimmering lake.
With only a brief moment of hesitation, they dove inside.
Yellow. The world gave way to nothing but pure, liquid gold.
The Hunter felt the Rot inside of them shriek with agony as soon as contact was made. The Hunter did not care. If anything, they took a sort of sadistic satisfaction in the Rot’s suffering.
It was the consequences of the Rot’s actions. It had sowed the wind, and it was reaping the whirlwind.
The Hunter started to swim, down, down, down. The yellow, like sunlight in the form of fluid, turned into dots on a sea of darkness, before giving way to a black more complete than the Hunter had ever seen, and that was when the Hunter saw them.
The creatures reminded them of Leviathans, but these were not Leviathans. They were white in coloring, not the black-maroon, and no Leviathan could possibly grow to such overwhelming size. Least of all in a world without the food to support such growth.
The Hunter swam through the swarm, ever downwards. The creatures, Worms(?), occasionally battered them, but the Hunter did not think it was intentional, or malicious. Perhaps the Worms were not even aware of the Hunter’s presence.
When the Hunter had thought they had swam through the swarm completely, they felt a gaze on their back. Just briefly, they flipped over, and saw one of the Worms, now very, very aware of the Hunter’s presence.
The Hunter turned back around, and kept swimming down, down, down, as quickly as they could, hoping to escape the Worm, but they could not.
The Worm grabbed hold of the Hunter’s back, right where the tumors were, and tethered the Hunter to its own body.
Then, the Worm swam upwards.
The Hunter pulled on its tether, trying to escape however they could. The Rot’s shrieking, though still pained, took on what the Hunter swore was a triumphant glee (though perhaps the Hunter was imagining that?). The Hunter, for the first time, felt themself truly falter. Was this how it would end? Right as they were about to reach their goal, their escape, the inhabitants of this strange black fluid would reject them?
… No. That was not how it would end, it turned out.
The Worm turned back down, and suddenly, it was swimming in that direction at speeds the Hunter had never known.
The Rot’s shrieks became screams became sounds of pure torment as the Worm brought them deeper and deeper.
And the Hunter felt a surge of satisfaction.
They were nearing their goal now.
Eventually, after traveling farther down in mere moments than the Hunter could’ve managed in an entire cycle, the Worm let the Hunter go, and the Hunter took the chance to give the Worm a grim nod before resuming their own swim.
Time passed. The Hunter did not know how much. Time had lost its meaning. But soon enough, something became visible in the endless sea of black.
It was… the Hunter.
A lookalike of the Hunter’s own form.
Then another appeared.
Another. Another. Another. Another.
Before long, the Hunter’s vision was filled with dozens of themself.
What were these?
Perhaps these were the Hunters that could have been.
Or perhaps they were the Hunters who had been. The Hunter from every cycle they had ever survived.
All of them moved in sync with the Hunter themself. They were one. They would see the next world together.
As the Rot’s screams became mere, pathetic whimpers, as it finally lost its fight while the Hunter only grew stronger, the exact inverse of their normal dynamic, the Hunter saw it.
A light. Bright. Blinding in this expanse. White against the dark.
The Hunter turned to swim towards it. Their other selves joined it.
That was when the Hunter felt the shift.
The Rot within them rumbled and writhed again, but this time, it was trying to hold on. It was trying its best to stay within the Hunter’s body.
The Hunter felt a pain in their abdomen, one nonetheless pleasant once they realized what it meant.
They watched, transfixed, as blue trails of corruption burst from their body, and floated up to be erased. A purification. The thing that had plagued them for so long was gone. They could feel it, a pleasant emptiness where the Rot had been growing, consuming, taking more and more control.
That meant that the Hunter had reached the end. Soon enough, they would leave this world behind. They would enter the next.
They had fought like a King Vulture to reach this point. They could finally rest.
They closed their eyes, and curled into a ball, as this place, the Void, began to transport them.
They thought about their life. They had done more than most. They had restarted an Iterator’s processes. A noble goal for any to pursue, let alone for one who had such limited time.
They thought they could be content to enter the next life. There was only thing that gave them the slightest pause.
… The one who had given them their purpose in the first place.
… “NSH.” No Significant Harassment.
They could practically feel his hands now, green as the most fertile seas, cradling them, as they drifted towards whatever came next.
They would miss him.
But he would want this for them.
So they would learn to live with their longing to see him again. They would learn to live a happy life with that yearning in their chest.
Just one more beat of their heart. And then they went to the next plane.
i just don’t get it. where are all the women. where are all the women in your fanfictions. are they all out of town? did they all go on vacation together? do they all have a dentist appointment at the same time?
Survival-themed cyberpunk RPG where instead of weapons having durability, you need to purchase subscriptions for each of your weapons, which deplete based on how much damage you inflict. Hit points exist in-universe as a value calculated by your weapons' built-in biometric scanners to meter subscription usage. You can top up a weapon's subscription credits at conveniently located kiosks, or "bank" extra credits beyond a given weapon's rated capacity by carrying gift cards.
If you hurt someone by hitting them with a rock or some other non-networked object, this is a serious felony – not because of the violence, but because due to a series of obscure legal precedents, using an object with no associated weapon subscription to cause measurable harm counts as circumventing copy protection.
Assuming the gun has a linked weapon subscription, it just deducts from your credits in the usual fashion. Remember, you're being charged per hit point of damage inflicted, not per shot fired; the biometric monitors don't care how you inflicted them, as long as it was done using a weapon with an up-to-date subscription.
(Of course, the trick is, if you're firing the gun, it can helpfully prevent you from going over your credit limit by refusing to chamber the next round. If you're just pistol-whipping people senseless, you need to keep an eye on the readout manually!)
Yes, but crucially, not for the same reason that hitting someone with a rock is.
In brief, hitting someone with a rock qualifies as circumventing copy protection for two reasons:
As we know, modern copy protection legislation makes it illegal to circumvent copy protection measures regardless of the reason for which it's performed – i.e., it's illegal to bypass copy protection lockouts even if no unauthorised copies are actually produced, and indeed, even if the method of circumvention used would not enable the production of unauthorised copies in the first place.
Subsequent legal precedents have established that the scope of "circumventing copy protection measures" includes making use of non-copy-protected technology where an equivalent copy-protection-enabled technology exists. Though the original (and, arguably, intended) effect of these precedents was to render open-source software illegal to possess and use, they've since been construed much more broadly.
If this principle were to be extended to flesh-and-blood bodies, the existence of cybernetic prostheses would have the effect of rendering it illegal to do anything at all with a flesh-and-blood body and requiring everyone to become full-conversion cyborgs. Leaving questions of logistics aside, the pharmaceutical corps wouldn't stand for it – you can't sell overpriced drugs to people with no biology, after all – so as a matter of law, a flesh-and-blood limb has no copy-protection-enabled equivalent technology. You can thus punch all the noses you want without fear of running afoul of copy protection laws.
This does not, however, place you in the clear. If the person you punched is wearing any sort of licensed armour, in the act of punching them, you're operating their armour without a subscription – and since all commercially available clothing is technically considered licensed armour, in practice the only legally clear way to have a fistfight is if both parties are completely naked.
(Hitting someone with a weapon with an up-to-date subscription moderates this risk due to reciprocal agreements between weapon and armour licensors. The interplay between the two sets of licenses is a complex topic that's beyond the scope of this post, but for our purposes it's sufficient to bear in mind that striking someone wearing particularly expensive clothing may result in the attacker paying a higher rate per hit point of damage inflicted.)
An alien species that relies very heavily on chemical signals and scents to identify people being completely baffled by humans because of how many perfumes, deodorants, fabric softeners, shampoos, creams, toothpastes, and even breath sprays we dump on ourselves every single day because we hate how we smell naturally. (These aliens could be entirely blind or just have the equivalent of face blindness despite having generally good eyesight, I’m not picky)
We humans consider it disgusting and disrespectful to show up a formal event smelling like natural body odour. We scent EVERYTHING just to not have to smell like ourselves.
The aliens often gets terribly confused on who’s who as a result of our efforts, much to their dismay, especially when it comes to diplomatic meetings. One day their human friend changes their shampoo and suddenly doesn’t smell like them anymore or someone borrows someone else’s perfume and now there’s like four people who all smell exactly the same. And the poor alien is trying so hard to not lose track of who they know and who they don’t but it’s the equivalent of trying to find your friend in a crowd while wearing a headset with psychedelic visuals playing on it, they’re just super disoriented.
And what’s more, some smells for the alien are used to signal willingness to breed, so some human wearing a fancy perfume they like is the alien equivalent of wearing lingerie to a board meeting and it’s super distracting and more than a little embarrassing to try and be conversing professionally with someone who smells like ‘SEX ME UP SEX ME UP SEX ME UP-‘
Thankfully, this problem gets brought up relatively early and human diplomats are assigned specific scents in little vials to help identify themselves.
This isn't very hard when you know some of the most genius strategies in human history were incredibly stupid, circumstantial events that led to victory by sheer luck of that strategy working.
Case in point: Tsun Zu's rival defended a city with 10 men against Tsun's army of hundreds by disarming his own soldiers, dressing them in plain clothes, INVITING Tsun's army to come in, and it only worked because Tsun knew the guy was an ambush master and thought "if we attack the city he's inviting us into, we will die." and left without even trying ON THE BASIS OF HIS RIVAL'S REPUTATION AND NOTHING MORE
Another example: Tsun Zu, on being told his soliders were out of arrows during a battle against a city across a river from them, had his men craft scarecrows, put them on a boat, send it out on a line, leave it there for half an hour, then pull it back in and used the arrows the enemy had fired at the boat to restock their own ammunition. It only worked because it was foggy and the enemy couldn't tell the difference between the scarecrows and actual soldiers.
Stupid things like that work INCREDIBLY WELL if the circumstances favor them, so you really don't need to come up with some multi-layered, Shikamaru-esque strategy. You just need to come up with a strategy you like for the characters involved, then write the circumstances (weather, environment, individuals involved) to favor it enough that it works.
The trick to pulling this off is to make the scarecrows Plan B.
Show them planning to pull off a conventional attack with completely adequate logistical support. Hit them with horrible unpredictable circumstances that have overwhelmed their good logistical planning and rendered their carefully-gathered intelligence useless and left them without supplies, reinforcements, or the high ground. And then use those same circumstances to facilitate the wacky genius plan.
Modern vampire who has spent the last 70-ish years of their immortality primarily being slutty in nightclubs and non-lethal snacking on hookups shocked and uncomfortable that most vampires older than the lightbulb are really into torture and cruelty and eating babies alive. Super excited to finally meet his own kind and then oh no. oh fuck. time out wtf are they doing. this is profoundly unsexy they bit that guy’s arm off and are letting him crawl around screaming and crying. there’s not even any kissing or grinding or club music. is this normal?? i am Going to throw up i’ve gotta get these poor ppl out of here. askjeeves how to smuggle 30 naked prisoners (assorted genders) out of vampire mansion time sensitive.
