#abandoned draft

[tokintormin]

these sketches werent supposed to be connected but after i stopped and looked at the canvas i realized it looked like caine was looking at them in shock

[theshiniestgemstone]

anotha abandoned draft

You’d never thought sharing a locker bank with Gideon Gemstone would wreck your life the way it had.

Freshman year, he was just the lanky kid with the messy hair who always forgot his pencils. You kept a stash in your bag of bright neon mechanical ones, your quiet rebellion against the plain yellow Ticonderogas. Every morning like clockwork, he’d lean on the locker beside yours, grinning sheepishly, and ask, “You got a spare?”

By winter, he didn’t even have to ask anymore. You’d just hand one over before he opened his mouth. It went from pencils, to him borrowing your copy of The Great Gatsby because his locker jammed shut again, to him sliding his cafeteria tray across the table so you could swap lunches without a word. You gave him your PB&J, he gave you his mom’s Tupperware spaghetti. An easy, effortless rhythm.

You weren’t dating. You weren’t even close to dating. But by sophomore year, he was the first person you texted after a bad grade. He was the one you skipped class with when it was too hot to sit in chemistry. He was the person you knew you’d find sitting on the hood of his car after football games, waiting to drive you home even if he had plans of his own. Somewhere between the way he’d lean across the locker to tie your shoelaces when they dragged, or the way he’d walk you home in the rain with his jacket over your head, you fell in love with him. Brutal love that hurt when you thought about it too much. The kind that stuck in your throat whenever he smiled at you, the kind that made your chest ache when he brushed crumbs off your cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world.

But just as you noticed his eyes lingering a second longer, just as you felt like maybe, maybe, he was beginning to notice the way you looked at him, she waltzed back in.

Vivienne.

The girl who used to be your best friend.

The two of you had been inseparable in middle school, sleepovers every weekend, friendship bracelets stacked on your wrists. But high school pulled her a different way. Where life dragged you into student government, it pulled her into cheerleading, a new circle of friends, whispered conversations you weren’t part of anymore. You’d barely spoken in months.

And then, one Friday after school, you watched her laugh at something Gideon said by the vending machines. Her hand brushed his arm, lingering, and he didn’t pull away. By Monday, she was sliding into the lunch table seat next to him like it had always been hers. By Friday, his hoodie was draped over her shoulders.

You’d never seen Gideon smile like that for anyone else.

It made you sick. It made you furious. But most of all, it made you feel small.

Because what were you supposed to say? That you’d been there first? That your entire high school life had been built around being the person Gideon came to, the one he leaned on? That the little rituals meant everything to you?

He didn’t know. How could he?

You were his best friend. Ride or die. The one who’d always pick up when he called, who’d always shove a pencil into his hand before first period.

And now, you were the one watching from the sidelines as he wrapped his arm around the girl who used to braid your hair in her bedroom, the girl who now had the kind of smile that made Gideon’s world tilt on its axis.

Your best friend had taken your best friend.

And the worst part? You couldn’t even hate her for it.

Because she knew him too. And he was easy to love.

[ros-ales]

forcing divinity

Another abandoned draft T-T This is a 2nd POV fic based around chapters 140-145. I unfortunately don't know how to continue this so I'll share it here instead.

Your blood bled red, your tears fell blue, and your skin bruised violet. He painted you into a mess of colors.

Your scars scattered across your arms like stars, your body shivered from the cold like a critter. You were as human as you could be. And yet, he calls you a god.

A god. What is a god if not of divinity? What is a god if not of faith? Have you done miracles? Have you granted prayers? For you to be called a god, is this blasphemy or prophecy?

And soon his hands choke you, like a serpent that coils around your neck, whispering lies into your ears, tempting you to fall with him.

[tokintormin]

abandoned script

When I was young...uh, alive, I believed in the importance of helping less fortunate and less beneficial people. I've read works on this topic, and heard lectures presented by a brilliant professor.

I worked hard to prove our point to the society. Because I knew in my heart it was right and it will lead our world to prosperity no one could ever dream of.

I went into the most prestigious international school, faculty of economics.

Met brilliant students who were smarter than me.

Though.. when I presented my thesis.. everyone laughed at me, calling it nonsense. I could see them giving me looks of disdain.

"And How exactly will those groups of people benefit us? In what way exactly?"

"Please do hear me out. Ahem, as I was saying, creating a sound system of aiding this cast of people will reshape our society: cultural transformation. It will aid those who could bring amazing results they wouldn't be able to had they not gotten accomodations. Example, mr. Brightman, a disabled man who could use only text-to-speech, brilliant scientist. And! Those who cannot contribute financiall or in a more tangible..field, will contribute to culture of our society.

Studies show that historically, countries that encorporated the idea of helping poor and disabled proven to be more stable compared to nations that didn't . Example- Athe-

Objection. Don't bring ancient history as an example. Only recent reports.

Alright, im sorry. So uh- well.. I do have recent data.

Here, in this diagram you can see performance of companies that engaged in corporate social responsibility, compared to before corporate social responsibility formed as a part of business-

Objection. Corporate social responsibility has little to do with the subject.

Alright- well- I have an analytics segment. I calculated three variables across 25 countries and in this table there are the results of the analysis-

We don't have time to read a whole 7 page table.

But it's the biggest part of my hypothetis-

You have only 4 minutes to show the results of your work.

The results are as follows.. The inclusion of trade and labor unions, institutions of social studies and humanities

....<...>

The biggest mistake of mine was that

I dared to believe I could ever make a difference in this world.

So I made a promise to myself.

I will never be my old loser self. Now that I was given a second chance in life in this endless pit, I will live it as the top number one. I will steal, murder, and take as much as I can. I will climb on top and remain till the end of time.

But the longer I lived that way, the more it destroyed me. I figured, how easy it is to be loved, to be powerful and rich, if you care for no one but yourself, when you destroy everything and burn souls down.

[tokintormin]

insp

[tokintormin]

abandoned wip

[tokintormin]

this was drawn poorly and is a draft but i put it up anyway

I didnt save the first part

I headcanon Vox to have been a victim of the cult himself as well as being the leader later on

because cults tend to manipulate and break those whom they need as the ones who commit atrocities on their behalf

(I admit...I have been watching documentary on that sharlatan cult activity and what happens behind the scenes.. the things one does to write something. even if it means- ..nothing)

[frayedblorbos]

Abandoned Act 1 Chapter 1 Draft

Fog drifted between the trees, creeping along the mossy, earthen forest floor. The tendrils hugging tree trunks and brush like reaching arms. The Lost Woods were silent.

Silent except for the quiet whimpering of a babe, squirming in it’s bundle of blankets from where it was tucked safely away within the cavernous roots of a warped tree.

The Forest was old, very old. It had been around for a very long time, though was not the original Lost Woods, where the legendary Deku Tree resided. The mortals of this land had merely given the Forest that name due to the similarities it held to that fabled Woods. No, the Lost Woods, the *original* Lost Woods, were still located on an island out on the Great Sea. Although, Hero of the Winds had brought a Deku seed and a handful of forest spirits with him upon the relocation to these lands, and they now lived within the centre of the Forest.

The Forest had decided to take in these spirts. It had been so long since such sprites had resided within its branches. The Forest did have sprites of its own, but its children were old and without form - now mere wisps. It had been many years since then, and the Deku Tree’s sprites had settled in well with the Forest’s own. The Forest would protect what resided within itself.

Over the years, many a foolish mortal had wandered inside the Forest’s branches. Some, the Forest gently deposited back out; mostly children and the pure-hearted. Some, however, the Forest would swallow, and they would never see the light of day again.

The Forest would prevent harm to those it had decided to protect.

The great Evil was retuning to the realm. The Forest could sense as much. Within recent cycles of the Moon, the Forest had felt sickly. Evil was returning, indeed.

So when a young mortal woman, a child of the desert, had come fleeing into the Forest’s branches, babe in her arms, pursued by the puppets of evil - the Forest had done nothing. The Forest allowed the desert child to run through it’s fog, and watched. The woman cried and ran, trusting the babe to be safe within the roots of the Forest. And so the Forest had decided. It subtly guided the desert child to the River, which cradled her broken and bleeding body, carrying what was left of her gently downstream.

The Forest looked upon the whimpering bundle curiously. There were higher powers, higher beings, at work here.

The Forest curled a playful tendril of fog towards the baby, who quietened and stared at it with curious big eyes before trying to grab at it, mumbling slightly with excited and even wider eyes when it’s tiny hand went straight through the pearly substance.

The Forest would take in this blue-eyed babe.

It murmured to the sprites that resided within it’s heart, telling it’s children to guide the way to the mortal child.

The whisps popped into being, flickering like little blue flames. One appeared above the babe and bobbed playfully around it’s grasp as it giggled and stared in wonder. The whisp’s flickering blue was reflected in the child’s wide eyes.

The Forest urged the spirits to haste, for of the puppets of Evil that had chased the desert child some still wandered through the fog.

Two brave little wood sprites were the ones to join their ghostly companion on the venture, following the trail of whisps out of the Forest’s heart and towards the mortal child it had decided to safeguard. The whisps would pop out of existence and disappear completely, or perhaps reappear further up the trail, as the little group would follow.

“Kiki is wondering how Mister Wolf is solid,” a tiny Korok with a hand-shaped-leaf chittered.

“Deedee knows that Kiki is forgetful, but Deedee did not think that Kiki was silly,” a Korok with a heart-shaped-leaf chittered back.

Kiki let out a petulant huff, shaking a twig in their tiny grasp, but before the little Koroks could start bickering, the wolf grumbled, effectively shutting the sprites up.

The Forest harboured many spirits, ghosts among them. A pack of ghostly wolves lurked the forest - truly no harm to anyone; the Forest had welcomed the souls of the poor creatures into it’s fog as the pack was chased into the woods by farmers armed with torches and pitchforks. There were also the ghosts of long dead mortals, mostly innocents that could not pass on and the Forest had decided to safeguard until they faded away - some stayed as fuzzy echoes of who they once were while others took different forms.

Neither of the little Koroks knew whether Mister Wolf was a mortal ghost with wolven form, or the ghost of one of those poor creatures. They were okay with not knowing, albeit curious as to why this particular spirit was special.

*Mister Wolf* padded dutifully along, understanding the Forest’s intent to preserve the babe’s life. Following the trail of whisps was efficient, and the bundled baby was found in no time. While the Koroks immediately began to chitter away about how cute and strangely fleshy the mortal child was, Wolf snuffled the babe’s cheek, chuffing as the blue-eyed bundle squealed and giggled. Wolf continued to nose the child, sniffing, and playfully licking the baby, putting up with it’s grabby hands that manhandled it’s face and pulled at it’s ears.

“Kiki and Pip have the bag!” Kiki chimed, hopping back onto Wolf’s back, Pip helping pull the satchel in tow.

Wolf snorted in affirmation, making sure that the babe was properly bundled before using it’s maw to gently grab the blankets and carry the squirming bundle.

Mission nearly complete, the spirits began the short journey back to the heart of the Forest, following the whisps that guided them. Instead of popping out of existence, some of the whisps would decide to stay, drifting around the small party, and bobbing in and out of reach of the child’s tiny hands.

The babe no longer whimpered or cried and squirmed. Instead it giggled and babbled curiously and the whisps played with it and it swung happily in the wolf’s grip.

The Forest’s trees rustled happily. It had not been graced with such happy sounds from a mortal in many Moons.

The Forest’s heart was the safest place within itself, much like the Deku Tree’s domain. The trees grew healthier and taller, a small stream that had broken away from the River flowed through the clearing. The boy would be well taken care of, safe, within the Forest.