And with a crooked grin, the cowboy of death stood over you.
“Looks like supper has come to us, tonight, boys.~”
Speaker Marilyn R. Atlas 7/17 - Virtually
Creating Non-Stereotypical, Three-Dimensional Characters
Some writers talk about creating connections with their characters so deep that the characters feel like real people. But how do you bring memorable, three-dimensional characters to life enough to make that connection? Find out in this class.
More info here.
a list of my oc’s
the first character named is always the main character
kingdom of spades
greek mythology thing
denny (aka denise)
the olympian gods
feel free to ask me anything about them or their relationships to each other! just specify names please :)
Fandom- Rick and Morty
Focus Characters- you, Jerry, Rick
Summary- You were bored in the house and in the house bored, everyone else was out apart from Jerry so you decided to hang out with your favourite dad.
You were bored as fuck. You wondered around the house, unsure if what to do. Everyone seemed to be doing their own things; summer had gone to the mall with Beth- your adopted mother- Jerry was reading a newspaper in his 'man cave', Morty was out and you had no clue where Rick had gone so you assumed the two were on an adventure.
You wandered around the house aimlessly. Usually you'd go out with friends or have plans but everyone else had plan today with family or dates or other shit. So you were left alone.
You looked at the couch, sitting down and wondering if you should watch some interdimentional tv, you turned the tv on and grabbed a remote, sitting on the couch.
You were wearing some pretty lazy stuff although it was hot out. It wasn't burning but it was definitely hot enough, you wore an over sized baby blue t-shirt with a little bee on the breast saying 'bee-kind' and some casual black leggings with no socks or shoes. Your hair was down and partly messy, thought you had brushed it prior.
You flicked through a variety of shows, ranging from cartoons to 4th Dimensional shit. But nothing grabbed your interest, you mostly just wanted to do something, not just sit around. You looked at the nintendo, perhaps you could play some games? But the idea quickly faded as you just weren't interested in it right now.
You got up and turned off the TV, putting the remote back. You even thought about eating, but you were just bored so there was no point.
You then decided to go nose around the house, no one was hone so it couldn't hurt right? You'd already nosed around in the main areas so you decided to go to Rick's room.
Ah what a genius you are.
Anyways you slopped off to his room, you wandered down the downstairs hall behind the stairs and quickly found the old farts room. You peeked inside, no one around, you looked around to make sure no one was around either, Jerry would have been to busy to notice anyway.
You stepped into the room and looked around, a messy bed, messy floors, his notes covered his walls, boxes were stacked upon each other filled with whatever Rick collected, his draws were slightly open and random clothing and paper falling down and more. You looked over the mans bed, questioning how he could sleep on a bed so low and so unsteady.
Even this bored you, you really had nothing catching your interest, even mischief was killing you.
You left the room, though before you did, you left a little surprise for Rick under his bed.
You left and trotted down the halls, finding your way to Jerry's man cave. Maybe you could hang out with him, he was like your dad after all.
You entered the room to see him sitting on a recliner chair watching some show about you had no clue, nor did you take any interest.
"Hey J" you rhyme, smiling at him. Jerry paused the show quickly and sat up smiling too. He waved pathetically but appreciated the nickname. You usually did this anyway, and he had a nickname for you too.
"Hey Mischief" he said, one of the best nicknames he'd come up with in a while, though he'd been calling you it for years. You usually caused mischief in the family, earning you the appropriate title.
You wandered over to Jerry, standing next to the recliner and looking at the TV. "What cha watching?"
"Nothing, what cha doing?" Jerry asked, brushing off his show. You raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"I'm just hanging out with my favourite dad"
Jerry's face went sick and tears filled his eyes at the thought.
"Awwww y/n!" Jerry got up and pulled you into a hug making you laugh, you swatted him away, pulling out of it.
"Alright sap king" you laughed, Jerry just rolled his eyes.
"Anyway what are really up too?" Jerry asked, knowing your mischievous ways. You shrugged with a slight smirk, you really wanted to cause some mischief right now.
"Uh-huh... okay-" Jerry eyes you but the two of you left to go to the kitchen to grab a drink. You chatted about some strange things and then about a job for Jerry.
"Yeah I found this job application" you explained, leaning over the kitchen's side as he got you both a drunk from the sink.
"No way really?!" He asked excitedly. "What about?"
"Its nothing fancy, just a couple of ads" you shrugged as if it was nothing, taking the water Jerry had poured out for you.
"Thank you y/n! Thank you thank you thank you!" Jerry jumped with joy as the two of you headed into the living room to watch TV. And seeing a way to cause mischief you jumped over the couch and slid right under where Jerry was about to sit.
Then when he went to sit next to you you just laid across the whole couch.
"Jerry I'm trying to watch TV!" You whined, pointing at the black screen. Jerry loomed at the TV to see if you actually were, but obviously you weren't, just pulling his leg. You burst out laughing and he mocked you.
"Ha ha! Very funny. Now move" he ordered, though it was in his own pathetic Jerry way.
"Nah, I'm quite comfortable here" you explained, placing the drink on the table and stretching out with your arms under your head like when someone was sunbathing.
"Oh really now?" Jerry asked, putting his drink down too. A slight teasing in his voice.
"Mhm! You should try this out- oh wait" you laughed in mockery, only joking around as not to hurt his feelings. But quickly your laughter turned slient as he fluttered his hands over your open armpits. Your eyes opened wide and you stared st the Jerry looking down at you, glaring at him.
You had closed your armpits now, looking a little silly on the couch having lost your confidence. Jerry noticed this and smirked, smiling as though he had no clue what was going on.
"Is everything okay?" He taunted. He was a dumbass, a pain in the ass, pathetic, but a great dad for the most part. He knew in every way to embarrass his kids and loved to do it together it was on purpose or just his pathetic ways.
You glared at him, staying in the same position.
The smirk on his face only grew as he acted more and more stupid. He reached his hand down and squeezed your belly, making you jerk and almost fall off the sofa though you didnt due to him being there.
"Jeherry. Jerry dont" you ordered, though it partly sounded like pleading, your hidden laughter mixing with your words. Jerry only answered with a little squeeze in the centre of your belly making a dumb smile break through on your mouth before you quickly got rid of it.
"What's wong y/n?" Jerry teased in a babys voice. You always hated when he did that, making you giggle even more but trying to act tough you tried your hardest not to laugh.
"N-nothing. Move ya big ball sack!" You told him, pushing him out of your face, holding back giggles. You always sounded like such a baby when you giggled, especially nervously. Not like the strong independent wOmAn you are on missions who can fight and comprehend almost anything.
"Hehey! Watch it" Jerry laughed as he was pushed backwards. You chuckled as he fell backwards a little bit but stay stood up over you. He had a wide smirk on his mouth and you were doubting whether or not you should have caused mischief in the first place.
"Y/n?" He asked, stepping closer sl you couldn't run.
"W-what?" You stuttered, a bit nervous now.
"I have a question"
"I don't think I wanna hear it-" you muttered slightly, looking for a way of escapism.
"Please! Just one tiny little question." He begged as he crouched down, trying to hide his smirk. You never minded when Jerry tickled you, you didn't hate being tickled either, you actually enjoyed the memories but you hated the taunting, the taughtig was terrible. You'd go all ready and squeal, unable to talk from being flustered so much.
But you knew there was no escape from this.
"Jerrryyyyy" you begged silently.
You sighed, looking down in defeat.
"What Jerry!" You whined, pooking up into his eyes. Though it was a horrible mistake, full of mischief and taunting, a large smirk on his face.
His hands darted to your sides as he threw you back.
"Are you ticklish?" He knew the answer, darting his hands up your sides making you squeal suddenly and then giggle like a child as you were slammed into the couch. You desperately pushed at his hands as your face turned a light pink.
"Jeheherry! Nohoho" you giggled, pushing and wiggling out of his grip. He grabbed you though and threw you onto the couch slightly, you were a great fighter, slippery and incredible but you were light as a feather no matter what. Even Jerry could swoop you up for a quick moment.
He stood over you as his hands squeezed and dances over the skin, slowly making their way up your ribs making you kick out as you tried to hide tour laughter, clamming your mouth shut so no one would hear, though no one was home and everyone knew except Rick.
"MmMHMm!" You muffled and tried to compel your laughter, wiggling as Jerry straddled you between his legs, dancing his fingers up your ribs. Weak bitch in fighting but tickle fights? It was such a Jerry thing.
He even fir a quick moment brought a hand to your neck, light tickles causing you to tuck in as he brought it back down to your side and ribs. You pushed and pulled at his wrists but nothing worked. You were dying behind a clenched smile.
Jerry skillfully shot his hands into your armpits making you squeal extremely loud, almost rolling off the couch with giggly screeching laughter. It wasn't even your worst spot, you were just surprised.
You rolled off the couch and ran to the kitchen, standing over the counter so Jerry couldn't get you easily, and good thing too, you both heard a voice call out if everything was alright in there and Rick stood outside the garage door with his casual light blue shirt on and pants having working on something in the garage this whole time.
You turned around for a split second to see if Rick was actually there, Jerry detracted too. You quickly span around though and pointed a finger from him to Rick.
"HE CAN NEVER FIND OUT!" You yelled particularly loud, a slight bit out of breath from the attack. Your face was bright red by now and your hair a bit messy. Jerry was smiling wide and laughing at your reaction. Rick just gave it a weird ass look.
"What uurrp-" Rick questioned before being interrupted by his own burp. You only snapped your neck to look at him so he could see your bright red and flustered face.
"She's really-" you snapped your head and glared at Jerry, screaming.
"SHUT UP JERRY!" You really never minded the tickles, but once more, having to watch someone let out your secret of being tickled? It only meant the other person would tickle you more. It was human. And embarrassing.
You didnt care if Rick knew, but you really did. You didnt wanna seem weak, or babish. You didn't want him to know you actually enjoyed the tournament, not that anyone did know. Still.
"FUCK YOU ALL" You yelled, walking out of the room, bright and flustered.
Rick gave you a look and then Jerry, Jerry put up a hand to talk.
"She's really-" he whispered slightly but you leaned back into the room and yelled at him to shut up.
Hey all! For this week, since I’m focusing a lot on my villains for my draft 2 rewrite, tell me a bit about your villains and how they challenge your protagonists! Do they work alone, or as a group? What is the hierarchy? Are they the only malevolent force in the story, or are there more than one antagonist/villain?
For my WIP the Gilded Knights, I technically have 2 antagonists.
There are the Red Dawn, a cult of the God of Chaos, Phobos, that are trying to eliminate the storm callers (people blessed by the goddess of life and nature, Hama, to uphold balance and peace in the world) and free Phobos from his prison in his realm Xaxos (pronounced zah-zohs). They are the more immediate threat to the main cast, following them wherever they go and trying especially hard to eliminate Sadra, the world’s only link to the goddess of Fate and Death, Kirada. With her gone, the goddess cannot give her verdicts to the Order of the Four Winds, and thus their organization is essentially dead in the water without her. Since the Gilded Knights is the first book in a series of at least three books, the cast doesn’t know who is running the Red Dawn, so they are merely encountering lesser agents that attempt to assassinate them as they go about their mission.
The other antagonist/villain is much more tangible and known, but not as immediate of a threat. Mons is a Titan, a dangerous fire elemental/dragon that has lived for over 1000 years and witnessed the fall of the previous iteration of the Gilded Knights--dragon riders that made peace between the elementals and the races of the world. Bitter and full of hate over the death of many friends and family after the fall of the Knights, he has many reasons to wish to destroy the world as it is and reclaim it for his primordial, elemental kin. While Mons is only seen before the story starts and closer towards the end, the threat he poses is the main conflict throughout the story as the cast attempts to revive the Gilded Knights and bring balance back to the world by either placating Mons and his followers, or killing them.
Alone - Subject 17 (Part 2)
Aaand I'm back! Apologies for the slight delay there, I've been really lazy the past couple of days and was finding it hard to get back into writing. Anwyway as usual, I hope you enjoy!
CWs: human experimentation (mentioned), noncon surgery (mentioned), hospital equipment, medical setting, recovering from anesthesia, IV drip, endotracheal breathing tube (mentioned)
The noise was the first thing Flynn noticed. There were so many sounds around him, yet they were muffled, as though he was underwater. His mind was like the bottom of a lake, riddled with mud that drifted upwards to form a grimy film across the surface. There were some definitive sounds that broke through, like a steady blip-blip-blip, but focusing on any of them too long made his head pound worse. Stark white light pulsed behind his closed eyelids. He wanted to cry out, to beg for someone to make it stop, to turn the world into a dark, quiet bliss, but something foreign was inside his throat. As he realised this, panic rose, and his chest seized, fighting air that was being forced into his body against his will. Garbled yells reached his ears, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. A cold hand gripped his shoulder. Whispers reached his ears. A frigid sensation washed over him suddenly, and then consciousness was jerked away from him.
The next time Flynn awoke, he was lying in a hospital bed, propped upright with a pillow. He was free of what he now realised had been an endotracheal breathing tube. The heart rate monitor beeped slowly but steadily. He lifted his arms, examining the IV still in his elbow and the pulse oximeter that remained on his finger. Flynn put a hand to his face and fingered the nasal cannula carrying oxygen into his body, wearily considering ripping it out. A hazy memory of Doctor Barrick wormed its way into his head, and with a start, he let his arms fall to his sides. He closed his eyes and took several slow, deep breaths to slow the beeping that had picked up slightly upon it detecting his panic. He wanted to be out of this place, to be back home with his family, so desperately that it made his heart ache. He doubted that he would ever have that opportunity though. It had been so long since he was taken, he doubted anyone would believe he could still be alive. He blinked back tears.
“Subject 17. Good to see you awake.” Doctor Barrick stood in the doorway, wearing his lab coat with a stethoscope slung around his neck, and no mask or gloves in sight. “How are you feeling?” He asked apathetically as he moved towards Flynn’s bed.
“I- okay, I guess.” The boy’s voice was weak, it cracked as he spoke. He released a haggard cough into his elbow.
“Your throat is still recovering from the endotracheal tube. I’ll have my assistant bring you some ice chips.” Doctor Barrick said.
His tone of voice did not convey kindness in the slightest, however, his words did to some extent. Flynn knew it was only because the Doctor did not want his precious experiment to be ruined, not because the man genuinely cared about his well-being.
“I'll just take a look at the incision site."
Doctor Barrick moved to Flynn’s side and adjusted his gown so that the left side of his chest was exposed. The skin was covered in pristine white bandages. The Doctor inspected them with a critical eye, then let the gown fall back into place.
“There’s no bleeding or pus. If there is, or the bandages smell or anything strange occurs, you let me or my assistant know immediately. I will not let you ruin my hard work. Rest up, Subject 17.” With that, Doctor Barrick turned on his heels and left the room.
Flynn was left alone in the hospital-like room for some time, the machines humming and beeping quietly in the background. When Doctor Barrick’s assistant knocked on the door with one hand, the other hand clutching a paper cup, he jolted upright on the bed, startled.
“Oh, hi. Sorry to startle you.” The assistant had never spoken to Flynn before, and his voice was unexpectedly dulcet.
“It’s okay,” Flynn murmured, a little apprehensively.
The assistant came over and passed Flynn the cup, then started reading the monitors he was hooked up to. The paper cup was filled with ice chips, as promised.
“Just suck on those, it should help your throat. How’s the pain from the uh… you know?” The man gestured to where Flynn’s incision site was, a grimace stretched across his features.
The expression almost looked apologetic, but Flynn shrugged the thought off. As if the man who helped Doctor Barrick cut him open would feel sorry for him. He slipped a piece of ice into his mouth and let it swirl around his mouth for a moment before attempting to answer.
“It’s just a dull throb so far.” He said quietly, using his tongue to move the ice to his cheek. His throat felt a little better soothed by the ice, but there was still a crackle to his words.
“Okay, that’s good. I’ll adjust the IV medications, that should help a bit. I’ll come back later, and if it’s worse then, just let me know.” The assistant offered a small smile. “I should go now.”
“Thank you. Umm, for the ice.” Flynn murmured hesitantly.
“Oh. You’re welcome. Look, I’m probably not allowed to ask this but... What’s your real name? I- I feel horrible just referring to you as ‘Subject 17’.” The assistant bit his lip, his blue eyes shining with something indiscernible.
“Flynn. What’s yours?” He cocked his head to the side, unsure why he even answered.
“Hugo.” The assistant replied. He moved towards the door but paused, turning back to face the boy, his smile widening. “Nice to meet you, Flynn.” He then walked out of the room and closed the door softly behind him.
Why does he care what he calls me? Flynn was left alone to wonder. He never seemed to care before. His eyelids grew heavy with fatigue and he put the cup down beside the bed, then slumped back on the pillows. As he drifted off to sleep, he was comforted by the sensation that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone here as he had thought.
Taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @ziptiewhump @lazy8whump @blackrosesandwhump @paleassprince @bumpthumpwhump
Okay so M verse is fucked, but I do have another series I wrote ages ago if yall would like to read that?
I also may or may not be doing a RnM series- so fuck me in the as and call me mommy so yh.
Uh if you want the marvel one, then tell me. Like actually tell me-
Anyway. Love yall- stay safe dont die cya
A pure word we use to describe the woman who nourished us with her love and affection.
But to me, this simple word holds an enchanting devotion.
The woman who feels the sting of agony when I get harmed;
the woman who holds my tears in her eyes;
the woman who's done so much without asking for anything return;
the woman whose words go unspoken;
the woman who solely yearns a simple "Thank You;"
the woman who breathed life into me for nine months;
the woman who's given me
so much of herself and still has more to provide;
the woman who's as beautiful as a rose;
the woman so innocent and cute like Tom & Jerry;
the woman who knows me more than myself;
the woman who tolerated my wrongs and rights;
the woman who goes through so much trouble and stress because of me;
the woman who's love defies all odds;
the woman who's stronger than tough;
the woman who's God himself;
the woman who I proudly call my mother.
- mother by yashvi shah (“poet me”)
Genderbending a character in the one chill short story I’m working on might be one the best idea I’ve had to work on this story ngl
Here´s all the masterlists to my writing projects and links to other important tags! Some stories might be incomplete, so apologies.
**NOTE: This links will take you back to the old page. I will dedicate to make the individual masterlist posts in the next week. **
You came back a stranger
Albus is an Albino box boy bought by successful business woman, Zarai Montenegro, who orders him to hide his status and assume the identity of Albus Serra, her new assistant. His world will take a 180 degree turn upon meeting Robert Glass, one of his Mistress’s friends and the owner of Sann, a mute box boy with a ghost’s face.
CW// Human trafficking, modern slavery, dehumanization, child abuse and neglect, pet whump, captivity, sadistic whumper, intimate whumper, forced mutism, mute whumpee, burns, multiple whumpees, scarification, depression, dubcon and noncon, self loathing, defiant whumpee, death and emotional whump.
Demon Angel AU (Albino whumpee´s fantasy AU)
It´s getting hard to track this thing, so here´s the compilation. This AU was born from conversations with @haro-whumps and a few anons about Angels that are treated as trophies by their Gods and the one who refuses to be only that and a demon who isn´t that evil.
CW// Body horror, hurt comfort, slavery, hunt for sport, multiple whumpers, burns, demon whump, angel whump, wing whump, winged whumpee, captivity, blood, slightly gore-y and graphic at times and branding.
A white haired boy bows to welcome you to the magical theater where you can live experiences as if you were the character itself. When it´s time to close you´re guided outside by the same boy, so he can go back to his owner and real Master. An immortal magician the boy has no words to name his adoration for, but the man who shares his face trapped behind a wall he´s forbidden from getting close to, has lived long enough to recite how large his hatred for them is
CW// Body horror, chemic burns, magical whump, nonhuman whumpee, creepy/intimate whumper, slavery, pet whump, broken whumpee, immortal whumpee, skinning and psychological abuse.
The Redhead (BBU) [for now only one chapter]
A young pet is bought to replace the one the Hearst family lost in an unfortunate incident. Nor the young boy´s new owners, who all have distinct ideas on how he should be used, nor the older slave with the eyepatch will go easy on him despite his attempts to perfectly fulfill his role as the new pet.
CW// Slavery, human trafficking, child slavery, multiple whumpees, dehumanization, pet whump, burns, child and domestic abuse, minor whumpee.
Scars for redemption
A villain who has a story of being locked in small places, a hero who forgives a villain´s life and a sidekick who finds intoxicatingly amusing to have a villain in the palm of their hand, have a try and fail game of wether or not people can change.
CW// Captivity, hurt comfort, angst, pet whump, creepy whumper, villain whump, recaptured, defiant whumpee, conditioning, mind games and dehumanization.
An old thing
The story follows Roahn, an slave that came to her new owner´s house inside a box. She then begins to tighten her relationship with the other house´s slave: Shy. A tall young man who has been sold a few times over. When their Masters plan for them begin to move into action, they have to be quick witted to let their kids and them escape a life of brutality.
I´m aware it´s incredibly fucked up and it´s not for everyone. If you´re sensitive to any of the next triggers, go with caution.
CW// Non Con, Dub Con, NS*W at times, dehumanization, mentions of pedophilia and CSA, along, slavery, human trafficking, forced breeding, blood, whump of minors, manhandling, creepy and explosive whumpers, physical and emotional abuse.
Tattoo artist AU
Sann´s Sign language analysis by @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi (thank you!!)
Sann and Albus fanart by @haro-whumps
Sann wingsby @haro-whumps
Sann and Albus fanart by @boxboysandotherwhump
Sann dancing and Sann crop top fanart by@boxboysandotherwhump
(my gentle human, thank you so much!!!)
Ray by @cubeswhump
Albus nailed to the wall by @whumpfigure
So Idk if the taglist for The Fall of the Siren still wish to be tagged, but... I have started rewriting the 2nd novella. Let me know if you want to be taken off the list (or to others, if you wish to be added).
@mrs-raven-writes @magic-is-something-we-create @wyldlynxx @jade-island-lives @dc-hollis @leafgreen6 @bathingindirtyteacups @mouwwie @violetcancerian @waterfallwritings @darkcatraphoenix19 @idfkwhatimdoingeither @amandahoyle @crystallized-ink @outcastedangel @overlap @poore-choice-of-words
Here is a snippet from today's writing (actually the last thing I wrote). It's Glorie trying to get Maloi's father to talk about his death.
“Sir, I find that talking about it helps.”
“I do not need to talk to some girl about my emotions,” he snaps in response, quickening his pace. I try to follow but the pain becomes too much and I collapse, crying out in agony. I hear his footsteps slow, then stop altogether. And then everything goes white… then black.
There you are again
Standing in the/Middle of a street
Gutted spilling words/Getting them dirty
Yelling out reasons/Not 6 feet
Held together only/By strips pieces
Think I got some whiplash
I got some whiplash
Think I got some whiplash
Got some whiplash
Think I got some whiplash
There you are again
Leaning over eyes/Staring ever blankly
Mirrors can tell/What innocent soul
Fear gave me/Gargles while draining
Real isn't believed/I'll never know
Think I got some whiplash
I got some whiplash
Think I got some whiplash
Got some whiplash
Think I got some whiplash
Leaves you alone
I hope it leaves you alone
It leaves you alone
They leave us alone
We are so alone
Leaves you feeling alone
There you are again
Painting the same/Scenes graphic stupidity
Hard to believe/Was it really me
Dont tease reminding/Please quit rewinding
Dark feels home/light it's blinding
Think I got some whiplash
And there you are again
There you are again
Part 2 of this month's writing goals!
Went pretty well! 😁 Since I met my total word count goal for June, everything else is just icing on the cake. So, even though I haven't reached 6,667 words for Part 2, it's still a very big win for me!! 🥳💃
How is your writing going this month?
DECAHEDRON is one of Sixty Inches from Center’s June Art Picks! Thank you 🖤 The show is part of Artists on the Lam's 10th anniversary celebration and features 74 local and #internationalartists and over 350 works of art.
View the online exhibition here (main page) & here (artist pages - click on each artist to enjoy their multiple pieces and read their words of wisdom).
Collect their art here & here.
Independently curated by yours truly.
DECAHEDRON (c) Jenny Lam 2021
Me @ the main character in my book: please... just follow the outline, dude...
The main character: