May 5
multi pen go brr
seen from Germany
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seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Thailand
seen from United States
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seen from Maldives
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Maldives
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from Bulgaria
multi pen go brr
I made myself a tlt inspired phone lockscreen. Feel free to save for personal use, if you so desire
Fairy Tale
A young child, under the shadow of the great tree, spectacles held by bands fastened behind her head of adorned with cropped hair. In her lap, she reads a fairy tale - a tale of a princess, with a wicked stepmother and an oblivious kingly father. A princess who takes solace in her little woodland friends, speaking to them and creating little clothing and accessories.
The young girl smiled, flipping to the next pages.
She was reaching the preparation for the ball when a rustling above caught her attention. Looking up, the child barely had enough time to register a blurry ball of brown - an acorn that conked her on the head and fell onto her book. Then, a scurrying on the tree, and soon, a squirrel had made its way, cautiously, right beside her head.
“Hello there,” the girl smiled, voice as soft as she could make it lest she spook the critter. “Is this your acorn?”
The squirrel simply kept looking at her, perfectly still. Then, it squeaked and descended the rest of the way down and towards the girl’s lap.
“It must be yours, then.” The child remained still. “Go on.”
Her heart fluttered when the critter came closer. ‘Just like in the fairy tales,’ she thought.
The squirrel snatched it up, and the young girl could swear she heard a “Thank you!” come from it before it began its ascent towards the top of the tree.
The child remained dumbfounded, but in her heart, a little burst of glee.
Just like in the fairytales.
That’s Not Nice
Jackie was perched upon her usual spot on the couch, blankie and some snacks in hand with Diablo resting his head on her lap, watching a recently released movie - something about a town haunting and vengeful spirits.
Her mother came in through the opening that led into the kitchen and snatched up the remote, changing the channel to a more slapstick, kid-friendly movie.
“Mommy,” Jackie whined, looking up at her mother, who just shook her head and gave her a quick peck on the forehead.
“That’s not something children should be watching. And I told you Diablo can’t be on the couch!”
Diablo looked up at the woman and chuffed, sliding off dramatically. Where most people would see a wolfdog, Jackie saw a Hellhound - the sharpest canines and four eyes, scales, ears curved to look like horns... She absolutely adored him.
“Now, can you help me set the table? Your father’s picking up Bruno and his girlfriend for dinner.”
Jackie perked up immediately and scrambled off the couch, blankie and snacks left behind, Diablo puttering behind her. She made quick work of setting the table.
Annot Marsh - apparently she was British, so Bruno had told them. Jackie was the only one who hadn’t seen the lady, but she’s been told so many great stories - ‘She helps out at the animal shelter’ and ‘She’s studying psychology’, even the time she nursed a whole litter of kittens and a few chicks back to health!
Jackie couldn’t wait to meet her.
About an hour had passed when the two heard the door open.
“Sorry I’m late!” It was her father. “Traffic was a- Jacquelynn!”
“ Papí!” Jackie laughed and ran straight to her father, who picked her up and spun her around. “Where are they?”
“They’re getting their things out, just wait,” he laughed, then set her down.
Bruno was behind them. “We already got everything out.”
Jackie squealed, rocking on her feet, trying to peek towards Annot. Her father finally stepped out, and Jackie looked up, eager to see her, then faltered.
Warm, dark skin, black eyes, and black hair pulled into a ponytail with her layered bangs just grazing her eyelashes. She wore black platforms, white jeans with a gold belt, striped yellow and white shirt, and a gold necklace.
But Jackie didn’t see any of that. She swallowed, trying to make sense of it.
She didn’t know what she was.
“She’s... weird.”
“Welcome.”
Note: Mentions of war and death? No real fighting happens, though.
Characters: Dare, Doomsday
Possibly part 1 if I ever decide to do a branching story off of this!
This is when Dare wakes up after incubation of sorts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time wasn’t a solid concept. All the being knew was that it felt something aching, pinching, overwhelming, at uneven intervals throughout its development. But with each ache came strength, growing more and more, the outside world soon coming into focus physically and mentally, just barely aware of its surroundings.
It could barely move, but it could feel the bubbling warmth enveloping it. It could hear the faintest echoes come and go for unknown spans of time. There was a voice that grew louder and louder each time it heard it, and with each pang of pain came the voice louder than ever.
Pain. Pain. Pain.
Pain that brought it forth, pain that surged through its body, and pain that centralized and built up into raw, unbridled energy - then, an explosion, and suddenly, the body within the warmth was exposed to chilling air on its bare skin, the floating nothingness replaced with hard, cold ground, and what was darkness was replaced with blinding white.
A pathetic whine escaped from the back of the being, limbs coming to cover itself, to try and find some warmth. It rolled over to its side, slowly blinking the blindness away, trying to take into account its surroundings.
It knew. It didn’t know how, but it knew. It’s seen this place before, this lab - the now broken tube, and those in tact surrounding it. Flashes of memories came by, swimming, swarming, memories not its own, but of someone else’s - multiple someones. War, death, war death, war, death - the lab. The single tube. ‘She’ll emerge soon’, it remembers someone saying. Who? Her. No, it was her, wasn’t it? Her. She. It’s a she, isn’t it?
She choked slightly before remembering how to breathe - how could nobody be here? There should be someone. No, not even an alarm was there to welcome her. Was she alone?
Slowly, she brought up the limbs - she saw her hands, slowly gaining color to - blue. Blue - dusty celeste - that’s it, isn’t it? A hint of white ran across her hands, up her arms, and all around her. She looked down at her chest, a single, almost pulsing light in the center - bright white.
A wet sound caught her attention and she whipped around to see a small pile of goop making its way over to her, before growing taller and solidifying into a large-mawed, purple and gray beast. Its black beady eyes stared right through her, and the girl got an overwhelming sense to just fight, but as soon as she stood up, she couldn’t help but fall over, weak in the knees.
“Hey, now,” it came from the beast - guttural yet comforting. The girl’s eyes widened as it looked up at the beast - it was now towering over her, but it held out a large, clawed hand, its spiky smile almost welcoming. “You’re early, kiddo.”
The girl hesitated, biting her lip before reaching up to take the creature’s arm - it was cold, but it was solid enough to help her - and its body strong enough to hold her - as she got up and stumbled.
“Easy, now. Easy. You’re early.”
It almost hurt to speak, but all that came out from her attempt was another pathetic whine. Then she coughed, doubling over, only to have the creature support her before she fell.
“Nobody’s around anymore, kiddo. It’s you and me. You and Doomsday. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
This time, she did manage something. Her voice croaked as she spoke, just barely a whisper, “Who? Where?”
“I’m Doomsday, kid. Doomsday. Or you might be, if it’s anything like last-”
“No.” This time it came firm, surprising the two of them.
“No?” Huh. “That’s a first. But what do we call you?”
She didn’t have a name, did she?
“It was pretty bold of you to come so early,” it spoke again, grinning, sharp tongue poking out of its maw.
Bold. Bold.
“Daredevil...”
“Daredevil?”
It clicked. She looked up at the beast, a tiny, excited grin on her face.
“Dare?”
The creature hummed for a moment, then grinned, pulling her along - which made her yelp - and it laughed, nodding.
“Dare. Let’s get you cleaned up, get you some clothes.” It chuckled, holding her close. “I’ll explain everything later.”
A voice in the back of Dare’s head chimed in - tones and accents mixing together - ‘Welcome’.
When she saw upon the woman, the woman whom she never saw but knew, and instincts kicked in - beat her black and blue.
Enveloped in the melting cells of a symbiotic beast, yet no clouded judgement to be seen - it was her own self, speaking: Leave this to me.
So she clawed, and swiped, and dodged and with a great bite, the woman thought: No, this isn’t right.
A coward, was she, a coward, who would plead - Plead for help, ask for a fleet.
A fleet, for a single one, yet her own creation - a creation created for mass devastation.
She wasn’t stupid, she was only one - too many to fight off, she’d have to run. She turned, and seethed, and through gritted teeth: I’ll burn this world till I am the last thing you see.
Strength
Social media. Can’t live with it, can’t live without it. It’s always fun to just scroll down your feed between classes, during breaks, spending unnecessarily long hours in the bathroom because you just have to read the thread of the guy who got smothered in a mattress to hide from a police bust.
I’m not much of a poster. Well, about important things or nothing too relevant. Just little quips with my friends on our feeds, sharing stories, laughing at each other’s distress when they almost beat that one level in the game.
I was scrolling down my feed, catching up on posts I’ve missed, when I saw a friend of mine share another person’s update:
“Lord give me patience because if you give me strength I’m going to kill a bitch.”
I admit I got a good laugh out of that. Had more than my share of moments where I’d silently prayed. Gave it a like, moved on.
Later in the day, I was scrolling through my feed again and came across another shared update. From the same guy, no less!
“LORD give me patience, please, cuz if I get strength, I’m going to kill someone.”
I scoffed lightly, curiosity getting the better of me as I tapped their icon to go to their profile. Freelancer, apparently, multiple areas. Only two posts with the same wording today.
I decided to give them a follow. They seemed really cool, and hey, I liked their work!
The same posts came up almost every day, and every day, me and others found it amusing. One day I even went to reply “What did He give you?” You know, a silly little gesture, didn’t think much of it.
About an hour later they respond.
“Patience.”
And from then, I regularly replied to the posts with the same question. They’d respond pretty quick, too.
“Patience.”
“Patience, but I think He hesitated.”
“Patience, thank God.”
It was morning now. I decided to take a quick peek at my feed before heading out and saw the all too familiar post. I grinned, writing my usual question, and left it at that.
An hour later, I check back on the status. No reply, but I didn’t think much of it. They were a busy person, after all. And they even mentioned they’d been working on a project, so even busier than usual.
There were no other posts from them that day, though. Nor the next day, or the next. I found it really odd and occasionally looked through their page to see if they’d said anything. Nothing.
A whole week passed. Maybe they got locked out of their account. Maybe they really were busy as all hell and couldn’t find time to post anything. Maybe-
My phone beeped. I picked it up from my nightstand, blinded momentarily by the light, and let my eyes grow accustomed to the illumination. They replied!
Smiling to myself, I opened up the app and went to my notifications tab to tap on their name. I saw the old post and scrolled down to my reply.
“What did He give you this time?”
My smile dropped. A single-worded answer.
“Strength.”