Googled It For You If That Helps- 💀 Idk What It Is Either So We're Both Learning Something New, Op

Don’t mind me just gonna cutely put Khori angst here- /silly

(That is not Uzi btw, you weirdos 💀💀💀)

😈

( Full page under the cut )

Yes, I did completely forgor to add “#3” to the third panel- 💀

A/N: Yoooooo another Khori fic?? LESGOOO!!!

Uh.. *ahem* tagging some ppl that might be interested in this don’t mind me- @traumatizedartist @emophobix

Uhh, anyway-

enjoy the fic!!

-ruf >:3

Always Here For You

A Murder Drones Khori (Khan x Nori) one-shot fan fiction

TRIGGER/CRINGE WARNING: angst, hurt/comfort, swearing <—(literally only one word is said, but just in case lol-)

It has been a while since Khan has been in his room, and Nori was starting to get worried. She didn’t want to check on him just yet, just in case he was asleep, but Nori’s concerns got the better of her.

She’s just going to see if he’s okay, and that’s all…

- - -

Nori stood in front of the bedroom door. She knocked softly.

No response.

Well, that’s not good…

Nori entered the room rather quickly.

“Khan...? Are you alright in he-”

She stopped mid-sentence.

The room was relatively quiet— only occupied by the sound of silence, or the soft hum of the buzzing fluorescent lights in the room.

The only ‘real’ noise that could be heard was what sounded like.. breathing. But not like– ‘normal’ breathing sounds. It sounded more inconsistent— frantic. Almost like someone’s breath was… hitching..?

….

The realization hit harder than expected.

Khan was laying in bed and had hid himself underneath a blanket. It seemed like he didn’t even notice that Nori was in the room.

“….Khan..?”

The soft call of Nori’s voice appeared to have gotten Khan’s attention.

He slightly lifted the covers just so only his face was visible. His gaze was locked onto Nori for a short moment. He looked away— almost… shamefully…

Nori slowly stepped a little closer.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart..?” She asked.

Nori crouched down in front of Khan— as if a way to show that she was ready to listen.

Khan managed to get a few words out—

“I dunno.. I just- I-I all of the sudden felt.... really sad...” He said, “S-So I… I-I came in here…”

Nori furrowed her brows.

“Why in here all by yourself..?” She asked with genuine concern in her voice.

“I didn’t wanna bother you…” Khan sighed while sitting up effortlessly .

“ ‘Bother me’…? ” Nori asked.

“Y-Yeah, I.. I didn’t think it was worth annoying you about…” Khan confirmed weakly.

‘Annoying’..?

....

Nori almost flinched.

“W-Wait… you’ve been… crying in here alone… because you’re afraid to bother me..?”

Khan’s eyes hollowed. He looked away with an embarrassed blush on his cheeks.

It didn’t take long for her to put the pieces together. She had heard enough.

Nori sighed.

The motion was quick, and loose— zero hesitation in her movement. Nori threw her arms tightly around Khan.

During that moment, Khan didn’t know what to think, or how to react. For now, he returned the hug.

Khan tried everything he could to distract himself. Like gently stroking Nori’s hair through his fingers, or– just literally anything that could distract himself from the spiraling thoughts that overwhelmed him in his mind. But… He tried. He really did try.

Khan began to tremble. He let out a small whimper—a weak, humiliating, pathetic noise that he could never allow anyone to see come from him.

“It’s okay.. just let it out...” Nori spoke in the softest, most comforting voice she could muster.

Almost in an instant, Khan released everything he had been holding back into the crook of Nori’s neck.

“Theeeere ya go…” Nori soothed, “..that’s it… that’s it....”

Khan was practically unintelligible— a weak, “I’m so sorry…” was all that Nori could make out through his trembling voice.

And his voice.. oh, his voice…

Khan usually always has a bright, cheerful tone to him, regardless of the situation. Always finding a way to stay positive.

But now..?

It doesn’t even sound like him.

His voice sounded broken. It was so off-putting, unnatural even, to say the least to see him like this. It’s like it was coming from a completely different person.

And the worst part of all of this.. is that Nori couldn’t do anything to help.

It pained her to see Khan like this. Barely comprehensible and apologizing profusely.

Honestly, she was sorry too.

It felt like forever, but Khan eventually started to calm down.. er- kind of.

Khan still clung on tightly to Nori— his eyes fixed on the ground.

Nori was scared to make a move, just in case Khan didn’t want to pull away yet, but she slowly lifted him off of her. Thankfully, Khan didn’t seem to be resisting.

Both drones faced each other. Nori locked her gaze onto Khan’s eyes, but he wasn’t looking back— not even a glance.

“Hey…” Nori reached out to Khan— gently lifting his chin up and turning his head back to her.

“You never bother me. It’s okay to want or seek comfort. You’re not being weak or pathetic for feeling this way either.”

Nori wiped the tears from Khan’s eyes.

“I love you, a lot. And it hurts to see you feel the need to hide your feelings from me.”

Nori paused for a moment.

“Listen, I’m not gonna tell you to ‘just be happy’ because that’s a bullshit answer and it doesn’t help.

But.. the only thing I want you to do right now is relax. Try to calm yourself down and focus on taking deep breaths. Okay..?”

The only response that Nori received was a weak nod, but that was more than enough for her.

After that, Khan layed back down on his side but this time without a blanket covering him.

Silence fell for a few moments.

“Do you.. want me to stay in here with you?” Nori asked.

Khan sluggishly reached for Nori’s hand, but didn’t quite hold it.

Nori chuckled softly. She climbed into bed and lied down on Khan’s opposite side— gently wrapping herself around him.

“There we go. This is a lot more comfortable, right?” Nori said.

Khan gave a weak hum in response.

“Good…” Nori positioned her hands on Khan’s chest— just over his heart.

Khan gently grasped onto Nori’s hands that lovingly held him.

After what felt like forever, Khan was finally starting to calm down. For real this time. Nori just simply being there was definitely making a difference.

“Nori…?” Khan actually said something.

Nori smiled, relieved to hear Khan’s voice again—“Yeah..?”

Khan blushed sheepishly—

“Th-Thank you.. for… always forgiving me.. even…despite everything....” His voice was almost above a whisper.

“Of course I always forgive you. You’ve never had to apologize…”

She leaned the side of her head against Khan’s shoulder, allowing her eyes to fall half closed.

“…because there’s nothing to be sorry for..” Nori trailed off as she fully closed her eyes.

Khan finally smiled. “I love you, starlight...”

A breathy chuckle came from behind him.

“I love you too, sunshine.” Nori placed a gentle kiss on Khan’s cheek.

Fin~

- - -

A/N #2: Hope ya’ll enjoyed this! I hope to share more fics like this in the future!

-ruf >:3

I feel you with existence being hard… I’ve been there way too many times. I hope you’re doing alright. I wish you well. Stay strong, friend. 💗

I love the art by the way!

Sorry for the lack of art, existence is very hard lately... anyway, have some FunnyBunny

Here's a less lazy more in my art style Jax doodle. And I somehow felt motivated enough to actually color it and shade it.

And a SaD Springtrap doodle I did just now. I was too lazy to color it lmfao.

Ironically they're both rabbits lol.

uh- bye.

Oh yeah, definitely. The only thing getting in the way is my procrastination and my inability to write basic plots because my skill is just not there yet. 💀 /lh

Another mini post where i yap abt random things.

anyway- a few things (in my opinion) that at some point NEED to happen between the Murder Drones main cast;

A heart to heart convo between Khan and N,

A serious and long overdue father-daughter convo between Khan and Uzi,

A heart to heart convo between J and N,

And a heart to heart convo between V and N.

Novels are not movies.

Visual media has taken on the world by storm. It’s the next big thing in the evolution of humanity, maybe. It’s quite certainly changed the way we entertain ourselves. And with the recent spread of short-form content, visual media has also become cheap, disposable, and easily accessible to the masses—perfect recipe to make a product famous.

Alright, I’ve been a little too dramatic, lol. But for real, I’m one of those who’s severely addicted to Instagram Reels. Whenever I’m done scrolling, I feel like I’ve completely wasted my time—I could have read a novel, watched a movie, or caught up with my favorite mangas. But instead of all those ways to relax—and believe me (pwlease) that I only open Insta to relax, when I’m free—I just waste my time.

I love my novels and manga, mind ya, so when I catch myself wasting precious time that I could have instead used to consume them, I cuss myself. And then I go scroll some more Insta, because I’m an absolute idiot.

Anyway, back to the topic. Visual media has absolutely taken over our lives. I won’t go into the debate of whether this is a good thing or not, but we all can agree that it’s an undeniable fact. Video is everywhere.

Because—and lemme repeat myself—it’s cheap, disposable, and easily accessible today.

And because of such exposure to video storytelling, beginning authors forget that novels are not a visual medium. Yep, here goes my rant.

***

#01 - The Problem

The problem is simple—these kids have too much access to their smartphones. And these smartphones are filled with videos, like a dustbin with its lid hanging on because of all that garbage overfilling it. (Damn, I sound like a boomer.)

And therefore, when these new authors begin writing, they can’t help but imagine a sort of movie or a TV show as their story. And that’s where the problem is—novels are not supposed to be movies.

Movies are a visual media. That means they’re composed of pictures. Images. But guess what novels are composed of?

Text. Words.

It seems pretty basic. I mean, everybody knows this distinction. But what they don't know, however, are the implications of this distinction.

Personally, I began writing with film-novels too. And those novels are bad. Genuinely. I cringe at the fact that I could even mail editors and believe they’d accept them. Good thing they never did.

What’s a film-novel, though? Well, the idea is pretty clear—it’s a novel, but imagined in the form of a film. So, it’s like a film, but in text.

It’s like you’ve written the film as a novel, instead of writing it as a screenplay or something, maybe.

But you’d ask me—why? Why is it even a mistake? Everybody has a different writing style. And to that, I’d tell you one thing—the audience. The audience is different. The media is different. You can’t expect a cinephile to read your book. And since it’s not like a professional novel, a (Googles the correct term) bibliophile certainly won't.

So, who’s gonna read your story?

No one—because it’s neither a film, nor a novel. It’s a film-novel, an illogical mix of the two.

Everyone drinks water, and everyone likes ice-cream. But you can't… No, I’m not even completing that sentence. Ew.

Anyway, you get the idea, lol.

***

#02 - Identify

So, what does a film-novel even look like?

And for that, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you,

The lean figure was standing on the other side of the railing three floors up on the ground of the school building where children below were shouting and kicking football upon each other, wearing white football jerseys. The figures, as they ran all over the ground, seemed very small as I looked at them. The goalkeeper of the right side, who was just beneath my white shoe, kicked the ball so hard that it flew in air and went directly to the other foot of mine. The other players shouted “Whoaaa!” as they saw the ball flying. But suddenly, two of them looked upwards and saw me. One of them pointed towards me and then shouted, “Hey, who’s he?!” All the other players started walking towards that boy who was in the middle of the field with their heads tilted up above on me. Another one shouted, “Hey! What’cha doin’, eh?!” My narrow eyes, which had dark spots beneath them, looked at the boys from behind my spectacles. I then moved my head a little up and saw my shiny gakuran jacket fluttered by my shiny yellow colored buttons as the wind started blowing from my left side. I was able to feel the wind dancing upon my soft skin as I closed my eyes and turned my head upwards. I took a deep breath, and then exhaled it out with my mouth. I then again took a breath. This time, when I exhaled it out with my mouth, I was able to feel the saliva of my mouth upon my lips. I tilted my head and turned towards my arm, which was trembling a little. Both of my hands were still holding the railing of the school’s rooftop. I then turned left and then looked on my other arm. “Hey! Get down!” One of the persons from beneath shouted. I turned my narrowed eyes towards the ground, the teachers, a large gang of footballers and students, and some even workers had gathered in a circle. I turned my head towards the front. I looked at a couple of brown colored and blue-green colored houses in front of me, which stood high and mighty. Beneath them was the clear blue sky.

A wall of text!

Warning: you don’t really need to read all of it. But you probably did, lol.

Anyway, it’s the opening scene from one of my first novels. And, as much as I hate to say this—it’s pretty sh*t. It has a lot of problems—no paragraph divisions, for example, as well as a lot of grammatical mistakes too. But the biggest problem with the text is that it’s just images.

Reading this text, I dare you to highlight one single sentence that might tell you anything about the narrator.

The narrator is narrating the motions, not the emotions.

(Damn, that was a dope line to say, man.)

The narrator is only telling you about the images and actions and dialogues and thoughts. Even though it’s in first-person POV, you feel distant from the narrator. And, even in third-person POV, authors are supposed to make sure the distance between the narrator and the reader remains at a minimum.

That’s how you get a film-novel—that’s filled with scene-descriptions, actions, and dialogues. There’s no narrations in it. The readers don’t know the thoughts of these characters.

***

#03 - Is it really a problem, though?

Well, you might ask me—is it really such a big problem?

Heck yeah.

The reason is pretty simple, actually—no one wants to read a film-novel. These novels are filled with only descriptions and actions—that’s too much of mental effort. these novels make their readers keep on imagining stuff, and no reader wants to do that.

Because it’s easier to look at pictures than to imagine them based on text. And that’s why your film-novels won’t work.

See, you need to understand this—novels are different than film. Sure, novels are a form of storytelling too, and they do include visual effort, such as descriptions, action, and all that. But, all that is not the main selling point of a novel.

The main selling point of a novel is the emotions. Emotions captured in words, in situations—caught in context like a butterfly in a child’s hand. Films can display emotions, but novels put those emotions into words.

Narration is what forms the greatest part of a novel. Narration is where a novel actually shines. Narration is what the readers come to read.

And, as you could guess, films don’t narrate. Consider this,

And rain made him feel like crying. He gulped down, trying to keep the lump of his throat in check. He couldn’t cry in the middle of so many other kids. They’ll ask questions, and what will he say to them, huh?

He was sorry.

For what?

For everything he did. And for everything he didn’t.

The day had just begun. It’d be long before it ends, y’know. He just couldn't wait for it to end. There was no lifting up his mood. Not until tomorrow.

How do you display this in a film? The answer—you can't. However hard you try, you can't.

Such narrations are where the art of novels shine. Such narrations are what differentiates a novel from a visual media.

***

#04 - Is it really a problem, though? (pt.ii)

All this talk constantly reminds me of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. It’s a literary achievement and really experimental in a lot of stuff that it does. For example, the novel has no dashes or apostrophes—and it’s not like these punctuation marks were not needed, they’re just not used. So, you’d find a lot of grammatical mistakes throughout the text.

And also, one thing that McCarthy ignored—and that’s relevant to the discussion we’re having—is that there’s literally zero narration. Zero.

McCarthy adopts a style that’s similar to a third-person POV, and is kinda like how I used to write when I was little—just with paragraphs and better scene-descriptions and action-descriptions. A lot better, as you can observe if you read his work.

Anyway, he didn’t have any narrative elements in his text. So the readers don’t really know what these characters are thinking or planning to do. They just know that these characters are somehow surviving.

I don’t wanna give away most of the plot of the novel, but the basic premise of the novel is that there’s a father-son duo who’s been caught in this apocalypse-type situation, and are traveling down the road to the south part of the country to escape the harsh winters that the north experiences. The novel doesn’t reveal a lot—the readers don’t know the names of these characters, the thoughts of the characters are hidden most of the time, and you don’t know what actually happened that most of humanity is dead and society is completely gone.

Now, McCarthy did it for a reason. A scarcity of punctuation marks reflects a form of scarcity in the scenery around them. Because most of it is, well, gone. Humanity is gone, and stuff is decaying. You don’t find fresh food anymore. Scavenge all you want—one day, all the canned food will expire, and there will be nothing to eat. Except fruits and veggies, that need to be grown somewhere. And nobody likes the latter, honestly.

And the scene-descriptions are so tough to read. They’re an actual pain. I have had a really hard time deciphering most of it, because the vocab is too high, and probably the sentences do not flow into each other easily. I can’t say anything about the sentences if I don’t understand them, y’know.

But, man, maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Maybe that’s why McCarthy wrote the descriptions in this way—to symbolize the mental stress that the characters go through as they experience this world, this form of reality that they were not meant to be in.

And maybe the novel is so lacking in narrations because the characters’ minds have gone numb. They’re forgetting language. With almost zero human interaction most of the time, they are forgetting how to think and interact in words. You lose the skills you don’t really use anymore, y’know. And these guys are so obviously depressed, so they don’t think about the world. They are used to the sad reality they live in. No point in complaining how bad the food is if that’s all you’re gonna eat all your life.

So, a scarcity of narrations tell you a lot about the story and its characters. It reflects something, it symbolizes something. The Road is a masterfully crafted piece of prose, please don’t get inspired to write in this style just because. This style won’t work on most of the stories.

Yeah, just because he wrote like this means you can too. Let me tell you, dear reader, that all of what we call rules are meant to be broken. Nothing is absolute. But here’s the catch—you can’t break the rules just because you don’t know how to apply them.

Authors need to learn these rules, because that’s what constitutes most of the written prose. That’s what forms the basics of the craft. So, learn them, understand them, and know how to use them. And then make a conscious decision not to use them.

See, these rules are like tools or weapons in your arsenal. And you need to keep your arsenal ready for everything. And then, you can decide which weapon to use, when to use it, and how to use it. Because you don’t know what sort of idea hits your head next and you’d suddenly need some of them.

***

#04 - Solution

So, how to make sure your novel actually comes off as a novel and not a film-novel? Unfortunately, the answer to that question… is that I don't know.

I know this sounds so absurd, but it is what it is. As someone who’s so recently started studying prose, I know this problem exists, but I still don’t know how to fix it. You could say I know my novels are film-novels, and I’m trying to fix it. But I, personally, am having a lot of trouble with it.

However, one way I can recommend is to write from your character’s POV, not your POV. You probably imagined your story as a film, but that’s now how you’re supposed to write it. Get into your characters’ head, see what they’re seeing, and write that.

But it’s tough. For me, at least. I always find myself going back to my old ways, and I think I need to re-write almost all of my scene-descriptions and actions because of it.

Lol, how ironic.

***

Conclusion

Yeah, and that’s it. I hope you liked this blog. Sorry I hadn’t posted in along while, I was going through a writers’ block. Stuff is happening these days, y’know.

Anyway, I’ll see you again in a couple of days, with something new. Bye-byee!

How’s your wife, Kinger?

This is like- EXACTLY how I see Khan’s character.

This is the number one thing that I’m planning on touching on in my post-canon continuation for his character arc.

Rebloggin this even tho I already commented on this lol-

Soooo.... Khan headcanon/thingy here

Since everything dangerous is over on copper nine, no dissesembly drones, no planet eating god, no abusive asshole humans, no constant stress of a whole colony on his shoulders, his wife comes back from the fucking DEAD, his daughter is alive/ok(physically) after fighting literal god

Now that he can relax, do you think that, all of the stress & grief of just, everything, hits him all at once?

How would everyone else react to this, he already could barely hold himself together and everyone could see it, now he's not hiding it at all. He's going through a grieving process of someone who was a live the whole time he thought she was dead

All of the PTSD + anxiety + etc piles on to him at once and he just, can't function

Just a thought I wanted to get out there lol