#more stories to come soon!

[shady-tavern]

Preview for "Wishmaker" the July Patreon Short Story

(slight warnings ahead for death and murder and implied harm to children, nothing graphic or specific, but please take care of yourselves)

*.*.*

The young god was born cradled in the colors of the sky, with long flowing hair that was studded with countless of stars. An entire galaxy drifted and wove in and out of his hair and the sun and moon loved him immediately, claiming him as theirs.

"You are the guardian of stars," the other gods told him. "Guard your powers well."

The other gods taught him everything he had to know with love and care and great wisdom. They told him what it meant to carry all the stars in the world in his hair and to usher the sun and moon along when they liked to tangle themselves into his strands for too long, giggling mischievously.

The little god was happy up in the eternal world of the divine, but soon his gaze was drawn down to the mortal world. It was just so curious, so wild. Untamed and full of possibility and potential. He found himself watching the mortal world the same way mortal children watched the passing of seasons, a quiet awe for things no one could truly control.

"Do not let them lure you into giving up your powers," one of the other gods warned him with a serious, solemn voice when they caught him watching. "You will lose pieces of yourself until nothing is left."

"Has that happened before?" the boy-god asked and the others around him grew grim and solemn.

"Two of us vanished," the goddess of the ocean, admitted quietly. "We asked Life and Death, the oldest of us, the ones watching over fate, if they knew anything but they hadn't seen them."

"We looked everywhere we could," the goddess of crafts said, who had built the eternal palace with her own two hands. "But they could not be found."

"Who were they?" the young god asked softly, almost afraid of the answer when he realized just how keenly the loss of the missing gods was felt by everyone. A heavy moment of silence followed his question.

"The goddess of love vanished first," the god of war answered, his voice solemn and heavy with old but not diminished grief.

"And then the god of celebrations and joy disappeared," the godling of remembrance, of yesterday and today and tomorrow, answered, soft like speaking any louder would further hurt their aching heart.

"They loved the world and it cost them everything," the goddess of storms and lightning added. "If you give up too much of yourself, we will lose you forever as well, little one. So don't listen to the mortals, they steal everything and give nothing back."

The little boy-god nodded seriously and promised to be careful so he could stay where he was. At home, safe with the others. Where he could learn more about his powers and how to control them. Where he could grow to be as tall and impressive and beautiful as all the others.

He combed out his hair dutifully and ushered the sun and moon on when they got tangled in the strands for too long and he let the stars shine bright every night. Every dawn and dusk his stars were the first to appear and the last to leave, connecting day and night as surely as the tides let the ocean kiss the land.

Until he heard a terrible cry and couldn't help but peek below. A girl was kneeling in the grass and thick plumes of fire were rising from somewhere behind her. A village burning and plundered, many bodies slain in the dirt. She held a little boy in her arms, who was bleeding heavily.

"Please," she begged and the boy-god realized she was talking to the stars, for the moon was asleep that night, held securely in his arms. She spoke to the stars, for there seemed to be no one else she could turn to. "Please let me save my brother. Somehow. Please, anything you want, anything I can give you is yours!"

The little god felt terrible for the girl and the boy, but he could not make or accept deals. That power belonged to one of the other gods and was carefully guarded and these days it was never used, kept far away from the mortal world lest another god vanished without a trace.

"Please," she whispered on a broken sob. "Please, if anyone is listening."

The little god's heart broke, splintering with an ache that he had not felt before, coddled and protected as he was in the eternal palace. He was listening, he thought as the girl sobbed, holding the bleeding boy with infinite care and a terrible, looming loss.

He was listening and he couldn't make deals, but...he looked at his hair. Stars were made of something special and there were only so many. But, he reasoned as he reached out and gently plucked one from his hair, there were so very many. Surely. Surely he could give one away.

So he let the star drop down, watched as it streaked across the sky and towards the girl, who looked up with a gasp, instinctively reaching out. She caught the star, holding the drop of white-gold, glowing power in her hands and she immediately pressed it to her brother's chest, whispering fervent prayers under her breath.

The boy's wounds closed and he gasped for air and the girl laughed and cried as she hugged him close and the little god laughed and cried with her, clapping his hands in delight.

As the girl at last let go of her brother, she looked up at the sky. "Thank you," she whispered with such heart-felt gratitude that it echoed in the little god's chest like a second heart-beat. "I will never forget this."

With those words she climbed to her feet, helped her brother onto her back and rushed away from the burning village. Away from the horrible people with hearts of soot and ash, towards the safety of the horizon.

The little god ducked away from the edge of the palace with a smile and he told no one about his little misbehaving, but none of the gods noticed one little star missing. No one noticed what he had done, but that didn't matter, because that little star had changed the lives of two people entirely.

The little god went about his life, caring for the stars and never letting the sun and moon tangle in his hair for too long and he held them only when they needed to sleep. As sweet as they were, the world needed them, though he made sure to always send them moving along with a little kiss, which made them giggle and glow brighter.

And then he heard another desperate voice one night. Most of the other gods were asleep, only a small handful were awake, whose domain either crossed into the dark or was the dark, so he could sneak to the edge of the eternal palace unnoticed.

It was a couple, weak and thin and unable to go on any further. And they prayed and begged for anyone to listen. Anyone at all. Just a little help, they said. Just a little miracle.

"We need to get this medicine to our families," the husband said with tears streaming down his face, his wife and he clutching bundled bottles to their chests. "Please, we walked so far just to get it. Take our souls after, but please, let us save them first."

So the boy reached into his hair and plucked out one of his stars. He dropped it over the edge, watching it streak across the sky and the husband and wife gasped and caught it, almost dropping it as they fumbled to keep hold of the bottles at the same time. The moment their hands touched the star, it soaked into their skin, briefly making their bodies glow.

When the glow faded, they were strong and recovered and they leapt to their feet, deeply grateful, before they ran on. The boy peeked over the edge and watched as they ran and ran until dawn crested and they reached a cute little town. And he watched with a relieved smile as they gave everyone the medicine they had risked their lives for, saving their people from a terrible illness.

With a giggle he went to bed, curling up among the strands of the aurora and he cushioned his head on all the colors of the sky as he drifted off.

Once more, none of the other gods noticed a star was missing and as time passed, the boy found himself growing bolder and bolder. He never forgot the faces of the girl and the couple, the relief and gratitude and how they used his gift, their wishes, to help those around them. To rescue the ones they loved.

More and more often he found himself wandering the edge of the eternal palace and more and more often he heard voices, calling out. A plea for help that was heard by no one, for the palace walls were thick and the gods were busy caring for their domains.

Not only that, the little god realized as he watched the gods go about their day. They were hurting, still, over the loss of their own. They upheld the balance, they ensured the seasons came and went, that crops grew and water flowed and the world kept moving forward, but their hearts were heavy. They grieved what the mortal world had taken and could no longer love it as they once had. Could no longer listen to it as they once had.

But the little boy did. He did not remember the missing gods and he always took care of his tasks swiftly. So he listened and sooner or later, he found himself helping. He didn't always give stars away, for some wishes were made during the day and the stars in his hair evaded his fingers like flowing water.

But he found he could ask the sun for help, could shine guiding lights with a gentle touch, illuminating protective caves to shelter travelers, guiding the lost and terrified out of deep forests and sometimes he used the sun to blind pursuers to allow defenseless people their escape.

It filled him with great joy to help and every star he sent down to the world at night to fulfill a wish was given with nothing but the hope that it would do good. That it would give the people what they needed and had asked for.

But as the other gods had warned him, the stars in his hair did not regrow. They became less and less to the point where the other gods noticed at last and they scolded the boy terribly, fearing for him, before telling him he was no longer allowed to leave the palace walls.

"Do not fall like the others," they warned him. "Guard the rest of your powers fiercely, little one. Or nothing will be left."

And, for a time, the boy did as they asked. But as the days passed, he noticed that more and more often he heard people call out. They were talking to the stars now, putting wishes on them and while many made him smile and clap his hands in joy, some made him feel rather fretful. 

He worried, for the people who had no one else. He understood that the other gods didn't want to share more of their powers, that they had already given much of themselves when they had made the world and in the end, there was only so much to go around. 

He was scared of falling, too. Of losing the home and family he loved so very much.

But in the end, he heard a child cry, helpless and small and all alone and he slipped outside when no one was watching and quickly dropped a star over the edge. He couldn't have ignored the little one, nor could he have ignored the quiet prayers of an old woman which drew him out of the palace once more after that.

The galaxy of stars in his hair had shrunk down to a glittering net and yet, he reached up and plucked another one, letting it drop to fulfil the old woman's wish that her children and grandchildren may survive the plague safely.

"Sweet little young one," the goddess of storms said when she found him a moment later, great grief in her voice. "Do you not wish to stay here with us? Do you feel unsafe or imprisoned? Are you unhappy?"

"No, of course not," he promised, reaching out and she picked him up, wrapping his arms around her. "I love you all so much."

"But?" she asked, quiet and gentle and still so very mournful.

"But I am loved and safe and happy," he said. "You all are here for me no matter what." He peered past her to the edge that she carried him away from. "But they don't have anyone."

"I understand, sweet child, but your stars will never return to you," the goddess said. "We cannot do anything to stop you from falling once you've given too much of your godly powers away. So please, keep the last few and save us and yourself the grief of loss."

The boy promised and she pressed a kiss to his temple and set him down to go play, but deep down, the boy was worried he could not keep that promise, even if he wanted to.

*.*.*

Would you like to read more? Go check out my patreon or masterpost for more of my short stories! Thank you very much for your support!

If you'd like to join the tag list, don't hesitate to let me know!

[achamocha]

english is not my first language please have mercy

[asteraws]

my clown college grad project from december last year 🎪

[egophiliac]

(breathing into a paper bag) FRALIO....

can't believe they gave us another guy. oh my god. so I guess Kelka is more, uhhh, more OOO then, and Fralio is Ankh? not that it matters too much, although they do seem to be doing something with the connected Riders so. who knows. anything goes! or if I may, anything gOOOes! god. of course they're the Ambition parallel. of course they are. oh my god.

fortunately there's nothing else they can throw at me right now that could possibly --

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

After months of deliberation, I have decided to restart Poorly-Drawn-MDZS with a brand new style!

[Episode Directory]  [First] -> Next

[cinefairy]

just because you are a god…doesn’t mean you are not human.

something i have seen quite often on this site whether that is in asks or just in general is that we learn that we are gods of our reality and after that fact we treat ourselves differently. more harsher, more colder.

just because we are gods, doesnt mean we are immune to feeling bad. you can still be god and feel hurt, upset & frustrated— those emotions dont make you appear ‘less than’ a god. it just shows that you are still human.

please treat yourselves as you would a friend— please treat yourself kinder, more lovingly, please live for the present and find the beauty in your daily life. you don’t need to hold out on yourself because you’re currently manifesting something.

just because you have made a mistake or reacted to the 3D or whatever it is you have done, it doesn’t make you a bad manifestor it doesn’t make you less than a god and i really hope you understand that.

this mindset that you have to demonise yourself or treat yourself colder because you’ve made a mistake is something you should try to abandon. its not worth your mental health.

you’re doing your best and thats all that really matters. so it take it one step at a time— there is no rush, there is no deadline. there is nothing to compete for. so let your feelings pass, they are only temporary. it’ll all be okay.

[chateaunoirsims]

The year is 2022, and the wonderful streets of Los Angeles bustling with new talents. Resonance spotlights a diverse group of individuals each unique and talented in their own way as they navigate through life. Amidst the backdrop of passion and artistry, they forge lifelong friendships, face heartbreak and discover the complexity of love all while striving to find their true selves in an ever-evolving world.

RÉSONANCE - coming soon~

Learn more about the series here : boop , blahrrp

[booasaur]

Special Ops: Lioness - 1x07

[laurrelise]

alas, i’m nothing but a child

guys i’m dumbassing again

[sillybun33]

HTF: THE PERFECT CREATIONS AU

⚠️‼️TW: BLOOD, GORE, AND BODY HORROR under cut‼️⚠️

Inspired by those mlp infection aus, main lore thing is that one day the idol was destroyed, releasing a curse in the form of a virus that started turning people into cannibalistic rotting god worshippers

[ask-lu-wild]

[wistfulpoltergeist]

Episode 2

“Hello, anyone?” Amadeo walked into a gloomy hall, filled with unsettled dust.

“Mr and Mrs Rogers? It’s Amadeo Goldfield, the new house owner.”

Only echo from the dim halls came in reply.

The house looked solemn, dark… expectant, and smelled of roses.

Amadeo looked around the stucco walls in the vivid Victorian style and traditional furniture as if frozen in time, preserved from decaying in this secluded place. 

He swept a finger over the nearest tabletop.

Clean.

“I see the front yard is in a terrible state!” Amadeo cried toward what he assumed was the kitchen.

“The shrubs need trimming.”

He noticed a vase with freshly picked flowers on the table. The rose fragrance hung in the air like the morning mist. There was a note beside it, lined with steady, stiff handwriting.

“Dear Mr Goldfield,

Welcome to Hill House. We don’t stay on the premises after four o’clock. If you are reading this, then you are late. The dinner is in the oven. Help yourself to any side dishes and snacks I left in the fridge. Your master bedroom and guest rooms are ready. The old boiler is on, though the water runs gurgling. The plumber you hired hasn’t finished his job.

I’d say ‘make yourself at home’ if I believed you could.

Help you, God. Yours sincerely, Stella Rogers.”

♫Ben Chatwin - A Story of the Days to Come♫

Characters Beginning | Previous | Next

[crabsnpersimmons]

me: i'm not gonna dive into the FNAF lore, it's just an endless rabbit hole

writing muse: but what if we base off this DCA AU off the MCI and Remnant and the Emily family?

me:

me: shouldn't you be working on the fic we're currently writing? the wholesome slice of life about the DCA as hairdressers? or even the restaurant fic?

writing muse: i crave violence

writing muse: and angst

[wandixx]

I'm not much for naming things but: Danny's associated with green and M'gann's a White Martian, so... Spearmint (like the green and white mint candies)? Just a thought.

Prompt: Magic removed Amity Park from the map. JL didn't notice, but in an Alderaan type moment (Star Wars ref. yay!) The martian on Watchtower monitoring duty heard the residents get silent unanimously.

Of course they need to be investigated! So M'gann gets her watch partner to take over and flies there, discovering an odd green rift of death energy doing a black hole effect and it sucks her in. Danny gets landed on/ flown into when she tumbles through the rift. She tried getting a message through to JL when she felt herself getting sucked in, but the message was not received due to ectoplasmic interference.

So Danny has to figure out how to get her AND Amity Park back home!

(Just a thought. I'm curious how you flesh it out if you do!)

This is such an interesting idea, and it definitely deserves much more story than I can write in single prompt, so this here is just a beginning and I will continue. I hope it's up to your expectations

Also, I really love the Spearmint idea

*****

M’gann understood the importance of monitor duty in Watchtower, she really did. She also understood why they were taught it while still in this gray area between fully dependent sidekicks and fully independent heroes, that was the main reason the Young Justice Team even existed.

It didn’t make it any less boring. Even when she had a decent duty partner. Don't get her wrong, Green Arrow was a much better option than Batman or Superman, it was just awkward. At least he seemed equally done with it and didn't scold her for jumping between satellite cameras just a bit too fast to actually ‘monitor’ anything.

And it was only twenty minutes into the two hour shift.

One of the sixty (or so) screens, the one directly in front of her, blinked to the view of the American Midwest. She was about to skip further, when a sudden movement caught her attention. She clicked a few keys to review the footage and asked, still unsure if her eyes weren't deceiving her.

“Did the entire city… just disappear?“

Green Arrow nodded, equally stunned.

“I'm going to check this out” she spluttered, already flying out of the room and doing her best to get Zeta to send her as close as possible. It was a bit tricky when she couldn't see the keyboard. She managed though, so before the adult hero even finished yelling that it was above her skill level, she was out.

From there, getting to the disappeared city was a piece of cake.

She stopped right in tracks when the thing came in view. M'gann had no idea how to describe it. It was a green and white and black storm but not, glass, see-through dome but not, deep space but also decidedly not. It made her want to run away but also come closer, almost like it was tugging at her. Like some pseudo, mental in nature, gravitation.

Oh, wait, no. It was an actual, physical force that after a quick test turned out to be inescapable for her.

Green Arrow, perhaps, maybe probably was kinda right. It was so high above her skill level that a balled napkin from this height would cause serious damage. Thank Batman for comms that she could use to call a backup!

The comms, that, of course, didn't work the one time she needed them.

She sent the message anyway, describing everything to the best of her ability, even though it was only a tip of the iceberg. Just in case, if the magical storm thing just made her comm one way communication only. It was highly unlikely, but who was she, if not an optimist.

She barely closed her mouth, when she was jerked sideways before the whole world became blurred.

She later would have a hard time telling anyone how it felt, to be inside the thing. She was basically powerless, thrown around randomly despite clearly keeping all of her abilities. She couldn't see, couldn't tell which way was up and down, couldn't change direction even a little bit. The rumble of the thing was so loud she couldn't hear her thoughts, throwing her brain so off the loop she forgot what her name was. She was crying probably, almost puking, her limbs hitting any and every part of her body.

At first, she didn't even realize she was out, so dazed from the ride. She didn't even see the flying boy until a while after she crashed into him, throwing them both off the sky. Neither of them caught them before they slammed into the ground. Somehow she ended up cushioning the boy's fall. M’gann couldn’t breathe for a moment. She kinda deserved it for ramming into him in the first place though.

By the time she could use her lungs and behave like a social creature again, the boy scrambled off her and just crouched, intensely staring, anxious and awestruck at the same time. She sat up and gave him once over herself.

He was around her physical age, but much skinnier than her or anybofnher teammates, build like a twig. He had fluffy, white, almost glowing hair, caucasian complexion, and wore a black and white jumpsuit with a tool belt. Big ‘P’ on his chest indicated he was someone from a hero/villain scene, and from general vibes she got, M’gann was leaning towards a hero. He was kinda cute. She coughed awkwardly when she realized how long they just sat in silence.

“Hi?”

Apparently it was enough to release an incoherent babbling from the boy.

“Hi, um… Miss Martian, ma'am? I'm Phantom. What are you doing here? Is the rest of your Team going to fall off the sky too? Justice League?”

“Not right now probably”

She was ignored. Phantom just kept panicking.

“Is this some of your villain's schemes? Are you alright? You crashed pretty hard, sorry I landed on top of you by the way, do you–?”

“I'm fine, don't worry I got worse”

“Sure…”

“Sorry I threw you off the sky”

“Not your fault, really, it's fi–”

“You asked what I'm doing here. I went on my own to investigate when I saw the city blink out of existence and got sucked in. I'm not sure if my report from site made it through, but they know where I went, so they'll soon come to help, don't worry”

Phantom did not stop worrying.

“Alright, cool, cool” he ran his hand through his hair, tugging at them “The Justice League knows you mysteriously disappeared along with an entire city. This is fine, totally fine, absolutely–”

“You're panicking”

“No shit Sherlock. Someone kidnapped my city again and I have no idea how to fix it because my usual tactic is ‘punch the cause of the problem into submission’ and this time I can't punch the storm. Now you're here so if something happens, I’ll have pissed of Justice League to worry about because, of course, it will be my fault. You could be overshadowed and I have no clue what's going on but I have to fix it as soon as–”

“Breathe Phantom“ she interrupted again, projecting what the Team called ‘calming vibes’. Since it didn't involve outright entering someone's brain and humans almost didn't react to it, it was an okay thing to do without asking even on non-villains. “Remember, I'm a hero, not a damsel in the distress you have to protect non stop”

“Of course, you're not. You're Miss Martian. You're amazing, but it doesn't give me any more of an idea on what's going on nor what to do with Justice League when they come, obviously furious because everyone in Amity and their mother will testify that it was somehow my fault, especially if–”

“Hey, hey, none of that. I know you're a good guy and they’ll too. I will vouch for you if for some reason they get misled”

Phantom looked her in the eyes as if he was trying to read her mind himself without even an ounce of psychic powers. She could tell if he used it.

“I could be a bad guy,” he said seriously after a moment of silence.

“I know you're not”

“You don't know me”

“You spent almost all of our interaction agonizing over how to save your city. It's not typical bad guy behavior”

“I could be acting”

M’gann didn't even dignify it with her response other than an incredulous stare.

“ Alright, if I've been acting, I would be a lot cooler but still… I could be acting!”

“I'm a literal psychic, remember? I didn't read your thoughts, don't worry, I know it's invasive for humans. But I got a general overview of who you are, and your vibes matched pretty well with the vibes of good guys”

“Sure, of course, why not,” he muttered, taking a moment to reboot “Why is this my life now?”

M’gann decided it wasn't to her and well… Phantom wasn't wrong, she didn't know him, so however she'd try to answer it was pretty much hit or miss. But from what she'd seen of him, she was curious to learn more.

“Nevermind, let's get you a Specter Deflector before anyone tries to use you as a meatsuit” he said, catching her wrist to drag her somewhere.

She let him lead her. He still didn’t have any nefarious reasoning, and hey! Maybe she'll finish this adventure with a new teammate!

[Sure M’gann. Just a teammate. Don't worry, Danny won't be a panicked mess all of the time here]

[astravires]

The other day when we were walking by the graveyard near the house, you asked me if I thought we would ever die And if life and love both fade so predictably, we've made ourselves a kind of predictable lie And so I pictured us like corpses, lying side by side in pieces in some dark and lonely plot under a bough We looked so silly there, all decomposed, half turned to dust in tattered clothes Though we probably look just as silly now

[demonslayedher]

I finished posting the unabashedly educational Sword Fic.

It includes a detailed (but hopefully beginner-friendly) explanation of all the steps of making a Nichirin blade from a sunny mountain like Mt. Youkou, a touch of swordsmith and metalworker folk lore (including demons), meta about what must make Kimetsu no Yaiba's swordsmithing methods different from real life methods, some character exploration for Haganezuka and his polishing method, vocabulary and additional resources in the chapter notes, and hopefully, an endearing, silly POV character to learn this all through.