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#creative writing tho
catfayssoux · 10 days
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halfbit · 7 months
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ok the last post was infodump friendly. this one is NOT.
i expect you to explain your/something about your magic system as badly as possible. i want to be confused. i want to lack context.
i'll start:
big wyrm gives off radiation that is also magic. ohhh no gas.
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calmparticles · 3 months
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automeris-io-moth · 23 days
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Short #2
Hero laid unmovable atop the bed, arms and legs lazily set over the mattress, left exactly how they fell when Villain set them there. Their enemy looked at them from the door, leaving it unlocked, it was not necessary to take the precaution, not with Hero as they were.
Villain settled beside them on the bed, sitting chest height, towering over. Hero looked at them with tired eyes, barely bothering to open them all the way, that might have caused offence in any other situation, a declaration of safety, meaning Villain was harmless, yet then, the criminal was relieved Hero could lower their defences. 
Villain cupped Hero's cheek with their hands, warmth guiding them to rest against it, a familiar feeling was certainly comforting.
"I'm sorry," Villain said, voice soft, "I should have never allowed you to leave my side."
Their hands travelled to the other's neck, a gentle grasp yet firm enough not to let it to be shaken off, if Hero ever pretended to move, twisting Hero's face from side to side, looking for more injuries than the evident. 
Villains frowned.
"Are you just gonna allow me to do whatever I want with you, like a ragdoll?" And despite their accusing words, their tone remained soft
"You always could anyway," Hero rasped out.
"And what makes you so sure I won't use it against you?"
Hero hummed, no more answers given.
With a sigh, their enemy answers, thumb stroking the edge of their throat.
"I won't give you back to them, I will keep you this time."
And that was fine for Hero, they thought as they closed their eyes, at least then and there.
Villain pressed a kiss on their forehead, laying besides them on the bed
_
Masterlist
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prophetic-writer · 6 months
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When the subtle romance plot you spent ages setting up finally begins taking place
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chiiroptereh · 25 days
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If I lay here ... would you lie with me and just forget the world?
I was sad one night and wanted to watch something fun and colorful, so I tried Fionna and Cake and really liked it! Adopting Prismo as my surrogate blorbo he is such a pal (everyone's pal, for that matter)
I've been enjoying getting to explore some new fics, which is what this was inspired by (primarily this one), and then it went kinda off-the-rails and got experimental hahaha but that's okay, I was having fun!
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crybaby-bkg · 7 months
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asking nerd Bakugou to give you a ‘pearl necklace’ and he starts grumbling about you tryna drain him dry but instead of pulling out his cock, he pulls out his phone to actually search for a pearl necklace </3
and to both his surprise and embarrassment, his phone is quickly tossed away in favor of you showing him what you’re actually asking for. he’s not mad though—not when you end up looking so pretty covered in white, grinning, and asking for another necklace <3
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mayhemspreadingguy · 1 year
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How did this happen? @cuubism came up with the incredibly enticing idea to put Dream in the black leather pants. Then @magnusbae dutifully passed this brainrot into my brain. Brainstorming this was so so wild :D.
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tiredly stretching in the classroom...
also, after I finished this drawing the pose reminded me of that one Flashdance scene (the chair dance with... the water 😳)
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how is he able to squat like that in the skintight thick-leather pants? how did he even put those on in the first place? - and no zippers??
who knows, who knows xD
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powerbottomsonic · 8 months
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don't rock the boat
an interactive horror story by elliot degrassi
A women's crew team plagued with internal debate over who is allowed to row in their league finds themselves stalked by a river monster. 
cover art by @fruityhag
~~ 🚣‍♀️ ~~
hi all i truly never post original content on here (to the point that this is literally my first time using the new post editor... whew,,,,,) but i spent the last week writing this twine about team sports and transphobia and i'm really proud of it and hope people play <3 let me know what u think!!!
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raineandsky · 3 months
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#83
“[Hero],” the villain opens with smoothness they haven’t shown the hero in a long time. “I have made a terrible, terrible mistake.”
Ah. Seduction for a favour. Of course. “Well don’t keep me in suspense, [Villain]. I could use a good laugh.”
The villain pulls a face, distantly offended. Their lips twitch uncertainly. “[Supervillain]’s lab is… made for [Supervillain].”
“Who’d have thought. You’ve been in there?”
Another twitch. “Yes,” the villain says shortly. “Yes, I was in there. [Supervillain] doesn’t label anything either. Their little concoctions could be anything—and I… drank one.”
The hero snorts. The villain scowls. “You drank an unlabelled liquid?” the hero asks from behind a laugh.
“Yes.”
“Intentionally?”
The villain’s scowl somehow deepens. “Yes.”
“What, are your hours numbered? Are you hoping I hold a secret cure?”
“No.”
“What was it, then?”
Another twitch. The villain doesn’t seem to want to answer at all. “It was a truth serum.”
Oh. Now that is interesting. “Truth serum? So you can’t lie?”
“Yes.” The villain smirks, and suddenly the seductive hopefulness is back full force. “Go on, test me. Ask a question.”
The hero stares into the distance as they think. It’s a lot of opportunity dumped on them with no warning. The villain slinks across the room towards them, curious, tantalising. “Do you actually enjoy being a villain?”
“Yes.” The villain’s smirk upturns even more. “I wouldn’t even have to lie for that. Ask something I wouldn’t usually answer, dumbass.”
The villain closes the space between them. The hero gives them a suspicious squint. “Where’s your evil lair?”
“In the basement of the old school downtown,” the villain says immediately. They groan disappointedly as soon as the words are out. “God, of course you’d go for something about work. What, is looking for us getting boring?”
The hero can feel the villain’s breath on their face now. They look away to avoid the heat rising to their face. “You want me to ask something… personal?”
The villain smirks. Their arms snake up to sit on the hero’s shoulders, their fingers brushing idly through their hair. “Sure.”
Thinking isn’t the hero’s strong suit right now. They know they should push the villain away, but something’s stopping them. It almost feels real. It’s a little too comfortable. They can feel every bit of the villain's body against theirs. “I, uh… are you… seeing anyone?”
“No,” the villain whispers with a cocky grin. “Not yet.”
And the villain presses their lips to the hero’s.
Something of a surprised squeak tumbles from the hero’s mouth and straight into the villain’s. The villain hums a laugh, their fingers tightening in the other’s hair. The hero is caught up in the shock of it for a moment, but once their brain kicks in and screams its victory they remember to actually kiss them back.
The villain’s mouth is soft, gentle, their lips moving against the hero’s with a novel carefulness. The hero lets their arms slide around the other’s waist, pulling them in a little more, almost lightheaded with the exhilarated buzz. They can feel the villain smile against them as they deepen the kiss. The villain’s lips are almost salty, crisp, moreish. The hero doesn’t think they could ever get enough of their taste on their tongue.
The villain pulls away after a moment, much to the hero’s dismay, though their arms stay locked possessively around their neck. They throw a smirk at the hero again, entirely too proud of what they just pulled. “How many heroes are on the roster right now?”
The hero’s mouth is forming words before they can even register the question. “Twelve.”
“Damn.” The villain’s eyebrows shoot upwards, and the hero suddenly realises what’s happening. This bastard. “That’s not a lot. We have more than that.”
“How many?”
“Thirty-six.” The hero’s eyes widen slightly in horror, and the villain scowls at them. They still haven’t let go. “Fuck you.”
“What is—”
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“No.” Damnnit. The villain’s smirk turns playful at the hero's answer. “What’s—”
“Do you like me?”
“Yes.” The hero’s feelings aren’t stopping the rising desire to strangle the villain for making them do this. “You asshole.”
The villain’s smirk turns into a grin. “Aww. See, you can be—”
“Do you like me?”
“Yes.” The villain’s smile is gone in a second. “Oh, who’s the asshole now, huh?”
“This is so stupid,” the hero points out with a scowl. “How long does this stuff last?”
“I don’t know.” The villain grins again, entirely too knowing. “Why don’t we find out? We have all day.”
The hero frowns in faint annoyance, but the villain easily wipes it off their face with another taste of truth serum.
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the-broken-pen · 3 months
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“We absolutely should not be doing this,” the hero whispered, but there wasn’t any heat to it. The other end of the line rustled as the villain laughed.
“There are a lot of things we shouldn’t be doing. Namely, I shouldn’t commit felonies, you shouldn’t talk to a felon…” their friend trailed off.
This time, the hero was the one who laughed. Outside, a bird began to chirp with the sunrise, and the villain sighed.
“Time distance.”
“Time distance,” the hero agreed, and by god if the miles weren’t a wound in itself.
“You should sleep,” the villain murmured. The hero hummed.
“Probably, yeah.”
Neither of them hung up.
“If I promise to call tomorrow, will you go to bed, please? For me?”
The hero sniffed, eyes heavy as the sun peeked through their blinds.
“Promise?”
“Pinkie.”
The hero slumped backwards. “I won’t hang up though.”
The villain laughed, softly, with an affection the hero didn’t want to think about.
“I’ll do the heavy lifting, once again,” but the hero knew they smiled as they said. The line clicked off.
—————————
“Hey, Sunshine. Committing nefarious acts of kindness and good deeds, I take it?”
“Hey,” the hero was breathless, hand pressed against their side. It came back bloody.
Any humor dropped from the villain’s voice in an instant.
“You’re hurt.”
The hero managed a pathetic laugh, flinching.
“Just a little.”
“It doesn’t sound like a little.”
The hero eyed their wound, swallowing.
“Absolutely just a little.”
“It’s a good thing you’re the kid of a hero, because love, you absolutely suck at lying.”
The hero tried to pretend something didn’t warm in their stomach at the endearment.
“I have…bandages. And antiseptic. And some good old natural dirt to rub into it if all else fails.”
The villain sighed on the other end of the line, and the hero knew they were rubbing their brow. For some reason, despite the pain, it made the hero grin.
“I’m fine,” they promised, and when the villain stayed silent, they said it again. “I’m fine.”
“If you die I’ll be mad at you.”
“Fairly certain that is the wrong sentiment for a villain to have towards a hero—“
“Has the bleeding stopped?”
The hero slapped some tape around the edge of the gauze, blood still dried around the edges.
“Yes.”
The relief was palpable.
“Good. Go to bed.”
“You’ll call again?”
“Promise.”
The hero smiled.
“Pinkie.”
The villain hung up.
—————————
“You wouldn’t happen to have a flamethrower I could borrow, do you?”
The hero blinked, holding the phone away from their face for a moment.
“I’m sorry?”
“Oh, don’t be, I just need one,” the villain snorted, and a loud crash sounded in the background.
“What on earth are you doing?” Concern rolled in the hero’s gut. The villain laughed.
“You’re going to want plausible deniability sunshine.”
“Right,” they paused. “But why a flamethrower?”
“It has flames, it throws them, what else could I ask for in an object?”
“I can throw flames.” Even though the villain couldn’t see it, the hero let a spark flicker on their finger tips.
“And again,” the villain’s voice lowered. “What more could I ask for?”
The hero didn’t have a response to that, but the villain somehow, like they always did, knew that.
“Any bruises I should know about?”
“And what would you do about them? You live on the other side of the country,” the hero teased.
“I can steal a fighter jet in less than half an hour.”
The hero blinked at the seriousness in the villain’s tone. They laughed, nervously.
“Please don’t do that.”
The villain sighed. “You ruin my fun.”
“I haven’t arrested you, so I think that should get me brownie points.”
“You live on the other side of the country,” the villain parroted.
“I could get there faster than a fighter jet,” the hero said. The villain snorted again.
“Will you—“
“Call again? Pinkie.”
The hero smiled. “Promise.”
The villain hung up.
—————————
The hero picked up the phone on the third ring, smiling.
“Hey trouble maker, what’s—”
All they got in response was a pained wheeze.
“Villain,” the hero said, gut plummeting. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” the villain bit out, breath short. “I’m okay.”
“You don’t sound okay.”
The villain gave something that was either a laugh or a sob.
“Mhm.”
“What’s going on,” their voice broke, and the villain fell silent.
“It’s going to be okay,” they murmured. And the hero knew.
Innately, in a painful, wretched way, they knew.
“My dad is there.”
Their dad, the superhero. Their dad, who had forbidden them from ever speaking.
Their dad, who wanted the villain, their villain, dead.
The villain made a quiet noise of ascent.
“I’m coming—”
“You won’t make it.”
The hero stilled.
“How bad is it?” Their hands were shaking. They couldn’t find their suit, why couldn’t they find their suit—
“Too fast for a fighter jet,” the villain tried, voice too light and wet with tears.
The hero slammed a drawer closer, throwing open the door to the basement, searching for something, anything.
“I can be faster,” they grit out, breathless. Their chest hurt.
“Not that fast.”
“Please,” the hero sobbed, and on the other end of the line, the villain did too.
“Don’t do this to me.”
“I don’t want to,” the villain swore. They coughed, and it was a deathly thing.
Something slammed in the background on the end of the line, and the hero’s fingers clenched around the phone.
“What was that?”
The villain let out a pained whine, phone crackling as they shifted away, before their voice came over the speaker again.
“I’ll call again tomorrow.”
The hero’s face was wet.
“Promise?”
The villain let out a small sob, but they still sounded like they were smiling, soft with affection.
“Pinkie.”
The hero didn’t mean to say what came next.
“I love you.”
The villain didn’t even pause, breath hitching. “I love you too.”
The line crackled.
“Sunshine, I need you to do something for me now,” the villain rasped, voice choked with pain and tears and love and fear. “I need you to hang up.”
The hero forgot how to breathe.
“No—”
“Please,” the villain took a sharp breath through their nose, and it sounded painful. “Just this once. I can’t do it this time.”
“Villain,” the hero began, but the villain cut them off as something crashed in the background once more.
It sounded like a building falling.
It sounded like the hero breaking, too.
“Sunshine,” the villain pleaded. “Just once. I’ll-I’ll call you back. I swear.”
They could both taste the lie.
The hero sniffed.
The villain sobbed.
And for the first time, the hero hung up.
The villain never called them back.
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ahopelessromantika · 3 months
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"Paddle harder."
"The only reason why we're not going anywhere is because of your weight, you fat ass."
"Rude. You like my fat ass."
-by ahopelessromantika-
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inbabylontheywept · 2 months
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What Talon And What Dreadful Claw
I wrote this in response to this prompt. Ivan Alexander recorded this story, so if you like audiobooks, click here to listen. I cannot understate how talented he is.
She’d watched him walking over the horizon for almost six hours now. She loved getting guests - loved seeing the resignation of men half dead with thirst, trading certain death in the sands for possible death near her waters.
And they were hers. The promise of Ramses still stood, even if it had been a millennium since the concord. By rite of blood and writ of paper she was the queen of the deeper duat. And it was a queen’s privilege to choose her guests. And, occasionally, kill them with her claws.
She could have flown over, but she had time. More time than anyone. More than enough time to wait.
𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒
Her guest was not half dead. He was, to be technical, less than a quarter dead, but that was only if you measured things in years.
He was young. His face certainly seemed less lined than her own. There wasn’t much else she could judge age from - the lines of her form folded into wings and furs and claws at the same point that his folded into silks and beads.
He’d prepared for the meeting by bringing a wealth of spices. It was a trick common to royal travelers: If sweat couldn’t be prevented, it could at least be masked. She could still pick traces of it up under the sandalwood and myrrh, but it was pleasant. Salty and metallic and sharp, underneath all the soft wisps of smoke.
He’d brought her gifts. When she told him that the gifts were not acceptable as passage, he said that wasn’t how gifts worked. Gifts weren’t given in exchanges - they were given for the joy of giving. And it brought him joy to share with her.
She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she simply asked if he intended to cross through her duat.
“Maybe,” he replied. “What’s your price?”
“A riddle,” she’d said. “If you get it right, you can pass. But if you get it wrong, I will devour even your bones.”
He grinned and it wasn’t false bravado. He’d known the cost before she said it.
“I love riddles. I accept.”
She loved this part. She loved the tension of it, that singular moment of truth where she wasn’t just a mind or a monster, but something straddling both worlds.
She spoke.
“I can survive beyond death, but can be broken without force. I can summon without breath but-”
“A promise.”
She looked at him wide-eyed. It wasn’t her best riddle, but it was one she’d made herself. It wasn’t supposed to be this easy.
She let him pass but she did - to her great shame - sulk. To his credit, he only lingered an hour or so in the shade of the oasis. There was a longing to him that she couldn’t describe. It unsettled her, but it went away when he took his camels and continued past, traveling on into the deep duat.
She forgot about his gifts until long after he’d passed the horizon. She’d expected human trinkets - gold and gems. Useless baubles. The pelts that had been carefully rolled up and placed inside the chest were strangely thoughtful.
She carried them back to her cave, and laid them flat across the floor. That night she slept better than she had in many, many years. In the morning, she woke up and smelled myrrh, and was almost happy to imagine the prince coming back. If she was disappointed to realize that the smell was coming from the scents soaked into the furs, that was a secret she could keep even from herself.
𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓐭
It was a week before he came back.
She recognized his outline on the horizon. She had a good memory, and beyond that, he’d made quite an impression on his first meeting with her.
He’d begun to run low on his spices, and his clothes were looking far more rumpled than they had at the start. That travel was beginning to wear him down should’ve meant nothing to her. Now, she felt odd. Would she still feel victorious if he failed her riddle? Or would it haunt her, knowing she could only catch him at his worst?
(Did she want to catch him?)
She waited for him to make it to her oasis again. It seemed to be part of the ritual, to sit and watch the speck on the horizon grow to the size of a man. They didn’t exchange pleasantries when he arrived. Instead he gave a small nod to acknowledge her before climbing down from atop his camel. She hadn’t demanded it prior because she knew all too well how easy it was to catch a camel, but there was still something respectful in the gesture. Here was a prince willing to die with dignity. Here was a man who lived and died by rules.
Could she be blamed for admiring that?
Only when he was fully settled in to listen did she begin her riddle.
“Toothless maw that eats all these:
Raw flesh, dung, fresh air, and trees.
At night I’m bright, in day I’m black,
I die, I’m gone, but always back.”
She was on the third line when she saw his face light up. He waited to answer this time, more focused on being polite than showing off how clever he was. She liked that. She knew he was clever, but now she knew he could be patient too.
“A campfire.”
It was one of her favorite riddles, and the joy she got was twofold. She was happy for the prince, happy that he would survive another day, and happy for herself too. It was infinitely preferable to lose with skill than to win through circumstance. She would feel robbed, if she had to eat the prince on a bad day. If he lost, he needed to lose at his best. He needed to lose in a way that mattered.
He went through the oasis again, but lingered far longer. They spoke in moments about each other’s lives - her memories of the time before even Ramses, and his experience as the seventh in line to the throne. He was trusted to act as an emissary specifically because he was so far from inheriting the throne.
“Not that I’d want it anyway,” he said. “A camel is a better throne than any silly golden chair. The seat in the palace only lets me see the bald spot on the high priest’s head. The saddle on this camel lets me see all the beauty in the world.”
His head wasn’t turned towards her when he said that, but she could see his eyes glance over her.
It was easy to pretend she didn’t notice, and he did nothing to press it further. She showed him the best trees for picking dates, the best ponds for catching fish, and the first cave she’d set her lair up in - back before even Ramses. Back when she was much, much smaller.
She slept in the next morning. The sunlight made a soft beam through the cave, over the pelts, before landing across her face. Any other day it would’ve been a wonderful way to wake up, but the realization that she’d missed her chance to say goodbye made her scramble. She made a short flight over the waters to see if he was gone, and got her answer before even landing - there was no camel tied to the palms.
Still, he’d left her a gift. The boar roasting over glowing coals had clearly been caught the night before, and the fact that it was unspiced meant it was for her.
It was also another oddly thoughtful gesture. How many humans would realize that unseasoned meat was a sphinx’s preference? How many would research that far?
She landed near the meal and approached. Down on the ground, there was so much more detail to see. The tracks of the camel, the care taken to not leave a mess. The simple note left besides the firepit.
She reached out and read.
I’m sure you don’t depend on travelers for your meals
But I do feel bad, having deprived you twice.
Enjoy the boar. I will be back in two weeks.
She hadn’t taken a bite yet, but she could pretend the warmth in her stomach was the meal. Two bites was all it took to make the illusion complete.
𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒
She waited until the fifteenth day before flying.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected - a sandstorm, perhaps, or a heatstruck camel. Instead, it was only a few minutes flight before the smell of blood caught in the back of her throat.
It was hard to describe what happened after that. Sometimes, she was more mind than monster. Sometimes, she was more monster than mind. That day was a monster day.
He’d lost a lot of blood by the time she found him. A frankly terrifying amount of blood. She could carry him back to the oasis, but that’d only delay the inevitable.
But sphinx knew many things that humans did not.
She carried him, and he was light in her claws. Light in the way that humans were, but some small, scared part of her brain was worried that the blood loss made him lighter still. Like a date left in the sun.
She followed the trail through the desert until she found the thieves that did this. They had his gifts and his spices. They’d have taken the clothes off his corpse if they’d been able to catch his camel.
They’d have taken his life. The one human life she’d valued in one-thousand years, and they’d have taken his life.
It was hard to hate humans. They were so small and short lived that taking them personally felt childish. But this day, she hated, and it made killing easy. Five of the six bandits were extraneous. The last, thankfully, had blood that smelled like the prince.
(He was much less thankful about this than she was).
She took them both back, the prince held gently in her front talons, the bandit half crushed in the back. The transfer spell took exactly as much as it needed. It would’ve been crueler to let the bandit suffer the same fate he’d intended to inflict on the prince - to struggle on with too little blood, until his body failed. It was tempting, but she felt a sick gratitude that he had what she’d needed when she needed it, so she made the end quick. Or, quick enough.
Thirty seconds isn’t long, but it’s an eternity when falling.
𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒
The prince recovered enough to speak after three days. He asked her to tell him riddles, and if she was as jealous of her domain as she pretended, she’d have said no. But good riddles were the tool she used to rid herself of unwanted guests, and this guest was… wanted.
So she read riddles to him for days at a time. Read all the ones she’d hoarded from scholars. Read ones she wrote herself, just for fun. She started with her best riddles because she loved his praise, but moved on to her earlier ones because what they lacked in cleverness, they made up for by being earnest.
He loved those riddles the most.
One week stretched into two. He spent his days swimming after fish, chasing after boars with spears made of stone (she hadn’t seen that in a very long time) and scurrying up the trees to pick dates. And his nights, he spent imagining riddles around a campfire.
She knew it wasn’t going to be permanent, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be beautiful. She’d outlived so many things in this world - seen rivers change courses and lakes run dry. If impermanence was a poison, then it was a poison she couldn’t avoid. There was no wall she could build to keep death at bay. She could only share her home with it and hope that one, one wonderful, far away day, that even death would die.
But that day would not be soon.
The king’s men found the oasis after a month of searching. There were no riddles this time. The prince left willingly, and the men with bronze blades stayed respectfully far from her part of the duat. It went as good as it could have gone, all things considered. If some part of her felt empty afterwards, well, maybe she just needed to eat.
Regular gifts did find her way to the duat, as thanks after that. Herds of goats were released near her borders, to hunt at her own leisure. Soft pelts from the northern lands were delivered in chests, and she luxuriated in their fluff.
Most importantly, a regular shipment of blank vellum began to make its way to the duat. She was told was explicitly that it was for her to write more riddles. And also, if she had a spare moment, she could send letters back with the vendor. The prince always made sure to send at least one out to her, and she always made sure to send one back.
Always.
𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁗 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑𓁗
It had been decades.
She just-
She couldn’t see how humans were like this. She’d written with him six months ago! He’d been sharp as ever. Sharper, even. Time had winnowed him into a razor’s edge, and she'd been so amazed to see him change. And then he’d gotten busy, and they’d stopped writing letters for just a month, and then it was two months, and then three and now-
Now he wasn’t well.
The last letter she’d received hadn’t even been from him. It had been from his eldest brother, the reigning pharaoh. And it had broken her heart.
He was forgetting… everything. His mind was breaking. Decades of brilliance, and now he was falling apart at the seams. Some days, he didn’t even know who he was. But on the days that he did, the only thing he could talk about was going to the oasis one last time.
And his brother who had kept him close, who had been so protective of him after his near death with the bandits, had finally agreed.
He was going to be arriving any day now. The note had a sort of helpless plea attached - that he didn’t know what to do at this point, but that whatever it cost her to keep him comfortable, he would repay tenfold.
She sent a letter back saying it was a gift. She was the queen of the duat, and it pleased her to give this to her neighboring kingdom. Nevermind that her kingdom had no subjects, nevermind that she had no armies at her disposal. What she had, she could give, and this was… easy.
It made her happy to write the letter. It remind her of the first words the prince had spoken to her, all those years ago.
𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁗
He arrived a few days later, escorted by fifty soldiers. She was grateful that he was in one of his lucid moments. She couldn’t imagine how it would be, to be seen and not known.
She didn’t wait for them to make it all the way to her oasis. She flew over to meet them, and then carried him back. The traditional wait was from when she thought she had time. Before she'd realized that there were ways for even an immortal to find themselves in a hurry.
He spent his first day back chasing fish, the same way he did before. The boars he left be - seventy, he insisted, was far too old to be messing with boars. And when the evening came, they gathered by a campfire to share riddles.
They went back and forth, laughing at each other's crafts. It was only after an hour of reminiscing that she actually asked him her favorite riddle, the riddle that she had permanently written in as His riddle. The one with toothless maws and meat and light in the dark, and he stared at her - not blankly, but worse, confused, because he recognized the riddle, but could no longer answer it.
She could see the distress growing in him, and it broke her heart. He hemmed and hawed, but right when he looked on the brink of giving up, he looked at the fire and started in relief.
“A campfire!” he said, and they laughed, and if he could pretend his tears were mirth and not mourning she could pretend that hers were the same.
𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒
He was not well the next day.
He knew who he was, thankfully, but he didn’t remember getting there. He stumbled around almost dazed until he saw her. Then he sighed in relief.
“This is my favorite dream,” he confided in her. “I’d like to get back here for real one day - but this dream is lovely. Can you read me some more riddles? Just like last time. I've never forgotten.”
She didn’t even touch her later works. She went to her earliest ones, the easy ones, and the way he pondered minutes at a time made her stomach clench.
𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒
She did not sleep that night.
She had spent literally her entire life trying to make harder and harder riddles, and now-
They needed to be easy. They needed to be simple. They needed to rhyme, and feel like riddles, but they needed to be solvable by someone that -
She had to stop writing for a few moments to compose herself. She couldn’t afford to cry on the vellum. A new shipment wouldn’t arrive in time.
She was immortal, but she was still running out of time.
𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒
He woke up the next morning completely confused. She’d prepared her first riddle as
“Who sits in the sand
Beside my lair
Who swims through fish
With thin white hair
Who braved the desert and survived
Then returned home alive and thrived?”
But after several seconds of silence she couldn’t take it anymore.
“It’s you,” she said.
“Oh!” he replied, surprised.
“What do you know about this place?”, she asked, after several more long seconds of quiet.
“…Not a lot,” he admitted. “But I know I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said.
That was the only riddle she had for the day. He fell asleep in the midmorning, and she took the time to go catch a goat for them. He was still asleep when she returned and remained that way the rest of the day. She stayed awake long after sunset, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest and praying it would never stop. She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep - she just knew that when she woke up, her prayer had gone unanswered.
𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁒 𓁓 𓁔 𓁕 𓁖 𓁗 𓐭 𓐮 𓁐 𓁑 𓁗
The vellum vendor arrived at the start of the deep duat only to find the oasis empty. He looked for hours, but there was only a single vellum left behind in the cave. He grabbed it and read the half finished riddle.
​ What hungers and is never full?
What is complete but never whole?
What pierces armor, shields, and hearts?
What ends before it even starts?
What force can make a monster thrall
What talon and what dreadful claw
Can heal the slice it makes each day?
What pain can make the godless pray?
It was all he could take back to the pharaoh.
He hoped it was enough.
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doodlerh · 8 months
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i drew the new server invite background for the dragalia lost discord server!!!! it's been like two years and my art (and composition) has improved a lot n i wanted to thank the server for all da fun and opportunities ive had over the years :')
not leaving or anything i just think they deserve a better invite bg SDGHSJD like here's the old one </3
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sunnynwanda · 7 months
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Supervillain and Villain look eerily similar. Neither will acknowledge it.
Similarity
"Why won't you just acknowledge it?" Hero questioned, their breathing laboured as they landed on the scrapyard. The air was thick with many disgusting smells, none of which Hero could identify. "You look very much alike. Are you related?"
"No!" Villain let out an animalistic growl before launching themselves forward. "I look nothing like them!"
Their foot landed a blow to Hero's ribcage, causing them to stumble back a few steps before they managed to grab Villain's ankle. They twisted and pushed Villain onto the ground with a huff.
"You are a spitting image of Supervillain!" Hero failed to notice Villain's leg moving and were forced down with a swift kick to the back of their knees, hovering over Villain as their hands pressed on each side of their nemesis. "I've seen you both without masks."
Had Villain not been in such a compromising position, they would have questioned that statement and its implications. But at their current state of mind, they could only think of ways to escape.
"Villain, just admit it," Hero's voice was quieter now, almost pleading. Their nostrils were flaring, the smell of the scrapyard suffocating now that they were closer to the ground.
What is it to you? Villain wanted to ask. Why does it matter? They opened their mouth, then shut it, pressing their lips into a thin line.
"Do you know what I have been through because of that?" If Hero didn't know for a fact that it was Villain speaking, they wouldn't have recognised their voice. "Do you know what that kind of resemblance entails?"
And no, Villain did not intent to sound so broken. In fact, they hated it with the entirety of their being. Although, the look of absolute horror on Hero's face was worth the humiliation. Hero struggled to find their voice, mouth slightly agape as they thought of something - anything - to say. Villain couldn't let the opportunity pass, so they pressed their hands against Hero's chest and rolled them over. They jumped to their feet and were gone before Hero could react.
Hero remained lying on the dirty ground for a while, dumbfounded by the sincerety of the moment. With a sigh, they got up, brushing the dust off their costume as they moved towards the headquarters, determined to pull up Villain's files and find out the real reason of them being a villain in the first place.
Thank you for the request, dear anon! This took me longer than expected but it was fun to think about. I hope you like it!
Love,
Sunny x
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majorproblems77 · 1 month
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all right! For a fic request how about some Sky, Wild, Hyrule crack/fluff? I know people usually pair up wild and hyrule as the chaotic adventurers who explore and get lost, but I’d love to see Sky get in on the action. Do with it what you will 😉 angst or no angst
Oh what a fun combination! (I love gremlin Sky.)
"Hey! Where are you two off to anyway?"
Sky found the Hyrule and Wild headed into the woods. The traveller and the champion looked back at him with a smile passing between them.
"Oh hey Sky! We were just...." Hyrule started, looking to Wild his eyes flicking between the champion and the skyloftian.
"Yeah. Just..." Wild tried to get the sentence but Sky stopped him. His arms crossed.
"Where are you going?" the skyloftian's voice was monotone, concern laced through it. Last time he caught them sneaking off they got lost and were missing for three days before Wolfie had managed to bring them back to camp.
Man he loved that wolf.
"We were going cliff jumping..." Hyrule gave a sheepish smile scratching the back of his head.
Cliff jumping? He loved cliff jumping!
The Skylofian's eyes lit up, his hands grasping together in excitement. "Can I come?"
"You want to?" Wild asked, confusion in his eyes as he and Hyrule shared a look.
Sky crossed his arms, "I spend my life jumping from my island home in the sky to land on a loftwing to fly around. We've not been to my home in months and I miss that wind. Of course, I want to." the skyloftian gave a hopeful smile. As the others looked on.
"And..." The skyloftian placed his hands behind his back, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he looked to his right, back in the direction of the camp. "I could clear things up with Time. When we get back..."
Wild and Hyrule looked at each other and then smiled. the spark of adventure flashing across them.
"Well then let's go!"
---
"So Wild... You know the way back?" Sky asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched the champion climb down from his perch up a tall tree.
"So you know how none of us are good with navigation..." Wild landed on the ground with a gentle thud.
"Wolfe is gonna be so mad again..." Hyrule deflated, as he looked at their surroundings.
"Oh, I can totally help with that." Sky smiled between them two. "you just let me handle it alright?" The Skyloftian smiled as he settled under the tree. "If we are going to wait for Wolfie to find us, might as well catch up on my sleep while we wait."
Sky settled under the tree and was just about to doze off when he heard a call from the forest. A wolf call.
"Wolfie! Thank Hylia!" Hyrule ran over to the wolf as it appeared through the trees.
The wolf growled, his eyes clearly unimpressed.
"Oh don't be angry!" Sky said, "Hyrule and Wild were helping me!" Sky smiled as he walked over. The wolf tilted its head in confusion as the Skyloftian patted it on the head.
"Yeah! He asked us to join him..." Wild said, forcing a smile through his teeth.
"You see..." Sky started, as he held his arms, an expression Wild and Hyrule had seen before. "And you can't tell the others. I've been feeling really homesick." The wolf lowered his head as a wine escaped it. Gently bumping its nose against Sky's hand. "I know you've spent your life on the ground but I spent my life in the sky. Freefalling was a daily activity." Sky sat on the ground, allowing the wolf to pad at his legs.
"Wild said he's seen somewhere high enough to feel like it. so. He and Hyrule brought me here. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it." Sky looked away. "It's not exactly like falling at home is. But it's kind of close. Can we stay for just a little longer? Please?"
Wolfie sits, giving a single nod. Before settling under a nearby tree.
"Thank you! Thank you thank you!" Sky sounded ecstatic, as he stood quickly. "Wild, let me show you how to fall properly. Come on!"
Wolfie remained sat with Hyrule while Sky and Wild jumped a few more times. each time yells of enjoyment and laughter escape the pair.
"We should get back. It's almost dark.."
---
Walking back into Camp was an adventure. the look on Time's face seeped disappointment, as he spotted Wild and Hyrule first.
"Well, that's two of the three. is Sky with you?"
"I'm here." Sky waved as he too entered the surrounds of camp. giving a small smile
"And where have you been...?"
Times Gaze turned to Sky as he wrung his hands.
"Well... I was feeling homesick. and Wild and Hyrule found this Cliff to jump off. They were just trying to cheer me up, please don't be mad at them!" The skyloftian pleaded with the older hero.
Time's gaze softened as he placed a hand on the Skyloftians shoulder. "Next time Sky. Just tell us where your going, we've been worried sick about where you three have been."
"I will. I will. " He beamed as he entered the camp, leaving Time with Hyrule and Wild.
"Ahh no you dont." The older hero stopped them. "We are talking about this when Twilight gets here.
"Wolfie, will you go and find Twilight, tell him to come back as it's safe." The wolf huffed in response before turning and sprinting off into the forest and out of sight.
The three heroes stood in silence before they heard the rustling of someone coming through the trees behind them.
Twilight.
"Ahh there you two are! You had me worried sick." The rancher looked over to camp to find the Skyloftian a smile on his face as he and Wind shared a hug. "you found Sky too! good."
"It is. Now you owe this one an apology, you've had him pacing circles around camp for hours now."
"Sorry, Twi..."
"No worries cub, I know you two need y'all space, just tell someone next time." The rancher smiled as he patted Wild on the shoulder.
"We will. Thanks Twilight..."
With that the two heroes walked into Camp, Wild moving over to the cooking pot, might be worth trying to make that Pumpkin soup recipe.
Just in case something in the Skyloftian was telling the truth when he said he was homesick.
Just in case....
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