Prompt #24

Just re reading iruma for the hundredth time cause I have no life and like

Why does this sound like this happens regularly

how often does this happen?

TELL ME

I NEED TO KNOW

THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT PLEASE-

If Mr Jalapeño ever released an official instrumental album I think I would be the happiest I’ve ever been in my life (I just really want a Love In Paradise and God Games instrumental).

I need to hear what secrets this man has hidden in the instrumentals…

My Babies

They go to a school called Redcreste Academy, a speciality school for children who struggle to control their powers. Not a school for aspiring heroes, a school for children who have been deemed threats.

Brooke Rovin, Power: Voice Compulsion

Penelope Melpolia, Power: Shadow manipulation

Erin Conleth, Power: Dimensional Storage

Callum Veredis, Power: Reality Distortion

Concept #10

A group of villains team up on the city’s most powerful and respected hero. Once they manage to reveal the hero’s secret identity, they’re shocked to find out that the hero is a child.

Scooby-Doo Remake By Me

Because of the horridness that was Velma, I present my version of a modern Scooby-Doo remake in the "adult show" format. I have no ideas for the title

First off concept:

I’d imagine they're all in online college rather than in highschool. Velma would major in either law or history, Daphne is studying fashion, Fred is studying engineering, and Shaggy is studying psychology. Though one little change is rather than a group of monster hunters I’d imagine them as a small news company and they’re all basically journalists (as a part time job). I do want to follow the one mystery per episode format however I will be taking the idea of there being a string of murders that the gang is following. I guess how it would be implied that it's an adult show would be the gore, just a few swears, and maybe for characters arcs and side plots more adult topics are explicitly talked about. 

Fun little thing I’d like to add is the gang has a swear jar hence all their different catch phrases, I believe that Shaggy would swear the most. I would also make it so the gang travels around the world and we'd get to see different ghost folklore and history.

Now the fun part; The Gang

Velma:

Velma I imagine being a very book smart person with a more dorky personality. I imagine her being not very street smart and tends to be a bit unaware of the situation meaning she tends to be a bit brutally honest. She gets a bit far too invested in the mysteries. Velma would be very organized and controlled compared to the group and just really loves learning things and solving mysteries. I do imagine her being more introverted and not as willing to talk to others outside of the gang. I also just like the idea of an autistic Velma, which I think might fit.

Daphne:

Daphne I suppose would be a very upbeat and energetic person. I remember in some versions she was very damsel in distress type, so I just imagine her being reckless and clumsy so she gets into danger often but she can hold her own. She definitely loves the danger and adventure aspect of the mystery solving the gang does. I also just like the idea that she was in a very high up family so she’s very rich so she tends to be a bit unaware of what counts as expensive to others, so sometimes she just spends without thinking while the others stare confused. Daphne would definitely be the one interested in more horror related content.

Fred:

The golden retriever. The himbo. The sweet guy who just wants to make everyone happy. I imagine him being more kind and charismatic in this version and is just a very likable person, like a teddy bear. I do see the potential to make him someone who goes a bit too far in the self-sacrificing side of things. I also imagine that he is actually very intelligent (the traps) but focuses far too much on that one thing. I also just imagine his smart moments just come out at the most random times and he believes that its basic information doesn't explain anything so everyone else (maybe except Velma) is confused. I believe in the idea that Fred’s catchphrase is fuck and everytime he says that he puts a coin in the swear jar. ADHD coded Fred, just an energetic person with strange fascinations (aka traps)

Shaggy and Scooby:

Shaggy I don’t know why but based on what we already know I imagined he’d be a very sarcastic person. He also just really loves food and of course is a bit of a coward. Based on the idea from Lavender Town, I do wanna follow the idea of Scooby being a service dog however I’d make him an anxiety service dog instead. I do like the concept of Shaggy suffering from anxiety and maybe developed the habit of overeating. For Scooby, if he talks then he talks but I love the idea of his situation being similar to Groot meaning everyone in the gang can understand him but everyone else (including the audience) can't understand anything. Shaggy is the coward of course but I also imagined he’s actually somewhat of a jock and is often used as a distraction because of his speed. Also based of his past interpretations he would be a pretty sassy and sarcastic kind of dude here. He just seems to like insulting people in the past versions.

Dear Closeted People On Tumblr...

How do I pretend to be straight?

What do straight people talk about? How do I sit properly? How do I make it seem like I'm not distracted by a girl's beauty and I am indeed enchanted by the non-existing handsomeness of a boy? How does one breath in a gay panic?

the writing challenge, day two

                                                           II

The human shuffled through the third drawer, still no sight of anything helpful, anything sharp, anything heavy. Surely the villain must keep something of these sorts? Yet all they managed to find were a few heavier books, the rest useless. 

There had to be a way. They were so close. 

Helplessly, the hero plonked themselves down on the sofa. The pain shot through their spine, reminding them of the bruises the villain marked on their body. With a hiss, they turned over to their back. For a few minutes they stared at the magnolias. Still fresh, somehow. The light breaking through the water, its reflection-

Oh.

The hero touched the vase delicately, scared of their last hope disappearing in the shadows. The cold surface brushed their fingertips. Glass. 

                                                          ~

The hero traced the glass wall. It seemed thin enough. They clutched the vase in their hand and took a few steps back. 

Bang.

No. No, no, no. The hero watched the barely scratched wall in disbelief. 

They picked up the biggest piece and swung again, using all strength left in their body. 

A scratch, maybe two. 

They took the biggest piece of glass and clung onto the glass wall, hitting it over and over again, until they felt like puking and tears were running down their face and the hand holding the glass was now the hand dripping with blood. 

Still, the glass didn’t shatter. 

Their forehead touched the cold surface when someone’s arms wrapped around their waist and yanked them backward. 

“Oh, darling. You’ve made quite a mess.” 

The hero let out a cry. The villain couldn’t be here. He was out, he- the car was missing, no way he could get here- 

The villain turned them around, his fingers gently brushing over the hero’s red eyes and cheeks before he considered their hand. The hero clenched it but the trembling of their body was becoming visible. 

The villain’s gaze pierced them, his pupils growing barely noticeably. 

The hero gaze dropped on the floor.“Please, don’t- I won’t do that again, I pro-”

The villain pressed his fingers to their throat, forcing them to look up. 

“It’ll only be worse if you try to resist.” 

The hero stumbled, their knees weak. The last thing they did before the spell started working was to put the small glass fragment in their pocket. They couldn’t not look now and even if they could, they wouldn’t. 

“Come here,” the villain said, and the hero fell into his arms. 

After, when their hand had been bandaged and their head rested on the villain’s chest they tried to remember what they did today but the images were blurry and the more they thought about it, the bigger the headache grew. They let the villain play with their hair as the numbness washed over their body.

Mother Nature

(TW Graphic Descriptions and Death)

There was once a town. It was large and wondrous, filled with lights, bustling cars, clean streets, and smiling people. There was a nearby forest that the people used as their main resource. Tree wood was taken from the forest to make buildings and businesses, trash was thrown out of sight, and sometimes animals were hunted for fun. Everything was peaceful and happy. Everyone felt safe, secure, and at ease. The children of the town, however, said they heard screaming every time they slept. They said there were screams of pain and they called for help, but the adults dismissed it. They had decided that all the children were just dreaming or playing a silly game, and they believed they all were just dreaming. They never heard poor nature's children screaming. They never saw the anger of the one who heard every cry. 

It all began with one simple afternoon. There was a group of woodworkers who ventured into the surrounding forest to collect wood from the trees. Those who returned said something felt off that day. They said the group walked in complete silence, watching every corner. They felt something watching them walk, that something was following them, they thought something was hunting them down. There were no words exchanged, no sounds from the animals, and the river itself seemed very silent that day. All they heard was the crunching of leaves under their feet and hair on their necks sticking up. While they tried to work, the trees they used to cut down were now like stones to them. They wouldn’t even dent or chip as they swung their axes and fired up their chainsaws. Woodworkers were confused. They came every week to chop and collect wood from all the trees the forest had, sometimes even killing the animals hiding among the trees. Now they couldn't chop anything down. It felt humiliating and shameful, so they kept trying. As the day progressed and the sun set, a loud scream from one of the woodworkers was heard. When the group ran to check on him, they found a horrifying and blood-filled scene. One of their fellow woodworkers had his body violently ripped in half, his now dead face filled with horror and shock. His top half was hanging from the vines and thorns in the trees, beaten and bloody. The bottom half of his body stood up from the group and his feet were planted down. This was just as beaten and broken as the upper body had been. Almost like a tree, its trunk chopped off and left on the ground with only its stump remaining. The woodworker ran out of the woods in terror, and the townsfolk were shocked to hear this news. 

A few days after the body had finally been taken away and buried, a young woman and some other townsfolk came to the forest's huge river to dump their trash. It was the way the town kept the area clean, after all. Throw it in the river and it's lost forever and ever. She waited for a friend. It was odd considering her friend always arrived earlier than everyone else, as she threw away her trash bags and chatted with her neighbors. The trash piles smelled odd today. The smell of rotting meat and metal filled the air. She waited patiently and watched the stream. She noticed that there were more fish than usual and they all appeared to be eating something floating around. She then saw a strange red liquid that stained the brownish water and screamed. Mangled and drowned, her friend's body swam in the forest river. Her stomach was ripped wide open, and the fish ate any organs and bits of skin and flesh that came out. In addition, they ate flowers falling from the vines around her dead body. 

More and more of these incidents happened and the townspeople were terrified. People were found nailed and slashed into the trees, buried alive in the soil, roasted alive in the forest, drowned in the river, mutilated by animals, and so many more. The town had decided it would be much safer never to enter the forest again and found other ways to live. However, it led to trash filling up sewers or becoming ash after burning. The river waters were dirty and some fire from nearby trees was being burned. People lure animals out of the woods and hunt them down dead. The thought that avoiding the forest would keep them safe soon changed when something happened in their town. There was a proud hunter on the edge of town near the forest. He would hunt down the biggest animals in the world and plant their heads down on the walls. One day, his wife and children noticed he had not come downstairs and his wife rushed up to check on him. She found his body lying mangled and torn on the floor, and his head planted on the wall. The walls were tangled with vines and birds flew down to eat the exposed flesh. 

Following the incidents, vines and thorns began to grow in more and more places over the next few days. Buildings, houses, roads, lamps, walls, and everything. After a while, thick vines and thorns suddenly appeared and wrapped around the town one day, making it impossible for people to leave the town. The people panicked and cut through the vines only to be strangled or, even more shockingly, slowly turned into wood. It became darker as more vines and thorns covered the town's sky. It was then that something suddenly arose and blossomed from the walls above the town, seemingly from nowhere. 

It formed out of tarmac and plants. It towered over humans and stood with such power that people quivered. Its body was made of wood. Hair made of vines and moss with thorn-filled branches forming sharp horns and claws. It wore a dress that grew out of its wooden body with moss covering it entirely. It had black flowers growing around its head. Its face seemed almost like an empty wooden mask, with its only true detail being its eyes. The eyes themselves were empty and soulless, yet filled with rage and vengeance. It began to speak in a voice that sounded like an angry mother. As its voice boomed over the town, people fell to the ground on their knees. "You have harmed my children, caused them pain and agony. You caused my world to crumble and burn for your pathetic abomination for years without an inch of regret. I have granted you mercy time and time again, given you warnings and centuries to change your ways. And yet you refuse. Your ancestors and you will now suffer full punishment for the reckless fate you and your families have bestowed upon my family tenfold. Unless your future generations change their ways, they too will suffer the consequences of their actions". 

The town and its people vanished the next day. No one saw the fall or heard the screams. The neighboring townspeople only found a large and beautiful field of flowers and trees where the town used to be. Children from the former town played inside it. The neighboring town took them in and cared for them. They had no memory of what had happened or come before. They said they woke up in an empty field with no town in sight, and that was all they remembered. However, every night when the children went to sleep, they recited a warning to anyone who heard:

Hear my words, for it’ll do you good. She loves her children like a good mother should

You may come near but you must keep them neat, the children will love you and give you a treat

But take and throw away too much, the plants and creatures will scream and such

So Love all on this Earth or else one day, Mother will come and take you away

If You Like It Please Leave Kudos On The Same Story I Wrote But On AO3

Hey there! Do you mind writing a snippet about a captured hero in a I-have-you-now-my-pretty situation by a dominating seductive villain? And can you make it very dark please? Thank you so much and I absolutely love your writing!

"There now, isn't this much better?" the villain murmured, stroking their fingers through the hero's damp hair. "You're so pretty beneath all the grime and the blood."

"I prefer the grime and the blood."

"I might also prefer you nice and quiet. Consider that."

"Oh," the hero's eyes darkened, "no doubt. What's more attractive than your prey being forced docile, unable to fight back?"

The villain raised a brow, in the reflection of the mirror. "You. Trying to fight me. Failing."

The hero felt bile claw up their throat at that. They resisted the urge to swallow, to tense; it wouldn't do them any good, and it would probably only serve to delight the creep.

The villain seemed to catch it anyway, because they smiled.

"I do like your spirit," the villain mused. They continued to stroke through the hero's hair, carefully and diligently untangling every knots and snarl. "You're beautiful when you're angry. Defiant. You get this fiery, helpless look in your eyes. The blush is also very becoming. So, you see...it wouldn't be half as fun if you didn't try to fight back."

The hero studied them, trying to decide if that was reverse psychology. They might have preferred it if it was reverse psychology.

The villain laughed, softly, at whatever expression they saw on the hero's face.

The hero jerked their head away. It felt good for all of three seconds before the villain reeled them back in with a much harder yank, making the hero's breath catch. They pulled the hero's head back against the chair, baring their throat.

Perhaps as punishment for moving, or perhaps simply because they could, the villain leaned down over their shoulder to press a kiss to the hero's throat. It looked positively vampiric in the glass. The hero half expected teeth. They hated that they shivered. They hated that they couldn't look away, in the spirit of car crashes, natural disasters and other terrible fascinating things.

The villain's smile edged a fraction sharper, a fraction smugger. They held the hero's eyes as they trailed more kisses along the hero's neck, across their racing pulse, until the hero was taut.

"Go on," the villain whispered. "Tell me not to touch you again. Dealer's choice on if you try a threat, command or plea."

"I think I might prefer me nice and quiet."

"Mm." The villain straightened. They turned their attention to the hero's appearance again, considering. "I knew you liked me too."

"That's not - I don't -"

The villain's smile turned positively wolfish.

The hero snarled; too frustrated for words, too...well. Too many things. Frustrated was the best pick. Better than fear, sinking and entirely too helpless.

The annoying thing was that it did feel better to be clean, with their wounds tended. It simply didn't feel better to have had the villain force them into a bath and out of their own clothes. It was like having their identity, their resistance, scrubbed away alongside the dirt. Dressed in the villain's clothes, with the villain's scent clinging to their skin, it was impossible to forget where they were for even a moment.

It was impossible to forget who the villain thought they belonged to.

There were times when the villain could be charming, seductive. When they first met the hero had even been flattered. The problem was that, after the seduction and shiny polish of it all had worn off, it was perfectly obvious that the villain didn't actually care if the hero was seduced or not. It was a preference - not a requirement. The villain would do as they pleased regardless.

Hopefully, the hero's friends would get there soon.

(They had to get there soon, right?)

"So pretty," the villain murmured once more. "And all mine. Let's go show you off, shall we?"

"I'm not yours." The hero had to say it. Even when they knew it was a trap, even when their voice came out hoarse, they had to say.

The villain laughed again, and swivelled the chair around so that they were facing each other. They smoothed their hands down the hero's trembling thighs. Then, their expression turned cold, as absolute as an old black-and-white fairytale, as unstoppable a death. They leaned in.

"Oh, darling. By the time I'm done with you tonight, you will be."

My first was SIX

reblog if the first musical you listened to was not Hamilton