Reblog If It's Okay To Invade Your Ask Box.

Birdy (I)

"Ah, little bird. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. Why're you here today?" [Supervillain] was a mastermind, a chess master (both literally and metaphorically), overall, a really smart guy. But he wasn't too keen on getting his hands dirty. [Villain] bowed on one knee before him. He refused full subjugation, but he was lesser and weaker.

"What do you want [Supervillain]?" [Villain] asked, exasperated. "I'm tired of this back-and-forth we keep doing. Just kill me or let me go or whatever, but end this."

"Finally at the begging stage." A melancholic note of bitterness crept into [Supervillain]'s voice. He liked begging. It meant he was in control. But he hated the sound of it. It was just so... pathetic.

So I just saw a post by a random personal blog that said “don’t follow me if we never even had a conversation before” and?????? Not to be rude but literally what the fuck??????????

I’ve had people (non-pornbots) try to strike conversation out of nowhere in my DMs recently, and now I’m wondering if they were doing that because they wanted to follow me and thought they needed to interact first. I feel compelled to say, just in case, that it’s totally okay to follow this blog (or my side blog, for that matter) even if we’ve never talked before.

Also, I’m legit confused. Is this how follow culture works right now? It was worded like it’s common sense but is that really a thing?

“A villain am I? When I demand loyalty from my minions I reward them with protection. My armies know I will provide for their widows. My workers are all well fed. The children will never know grown men chasing them away for being monsters. What has your king provided for your loyalty?”

Waves slapped the boat as you sat in the bow. You had only been given enough time to pack a single bag.

As you watched the boat leave, you vowed to get back home better than you left. You grabbed your axe and started into the woods.

You started with making a simple shelter from a few trees then set up a campfire, leaving it unlit.

You offended a high ranking noble and got reassigned to the remotest location possible. Two years later and this 'banishment assignment' has resulted in you becoming fabulously wealthy.

Day VI

You felt stiff and sore. Well that would make sense. You've been dead for a while. You look up and there, in the collarbone is a name: Dennis. You looked over yourself. You were... whole? You had skin. You felt normal, aside from the stiffness.

Dennis silently offered you your cloak and staff, which you put on. You pooled your mana together. It felt smaller than it used to be. You pulled with all your might and felt an explosion of power which made you stumble back a step. You imbued Dennis with a bit more power and he visibly straightened.

Where you had laid was dug up and on a stone lying at the end it read, in several languages, as inscribed several times over, "Here lies The Death ringer, owner of a thousand souls. His rebirth will result in untold casualties."

You caressed Dennis skull and gave him a hug. It wasn't particularly soft, but it was comforting to hug someone familiar. When you finally stepped back, you ran your fingers along the engraved name.

"What happened to the others?" you asked.

"Those who didn't fall when you died were hacked to pieces or pulverized. I was the last one. It was the resurrection spell you cast upon me that is how we are as we are." You smiled.

"Thank you." You started walking toward the moon. It was a waxing gibbous. After a while, you noticed it had risen, so you were travelling east. You stopped and looked up. The stars were dazzling. Dennis stopped about a pace and a half behind you. You started walking again and didn't stop until you arrived at the first set of houses. You felt an absurd amount of corpses under the ground, the majority of them human.

You, a necromancer, were always fond of your skeleton minions. Even going as far as to make each one a personalized name tag. Then you were cut down by those blasted heroes, only to one day reopen your eyes and see an Elder Lich looming over you with a very faded name tag.

Caves are weirder and more varied than you think

Do you ever just start writing and then it's a few thousand words later, and you're just like, 'Where the hell did any of this come from? This was not the plan. Wtf?'

Showing 'Anticipation' in Writing

Fingers tapping rhythmically on a surface.

Shifting weight from one foot to the other.

Checking the time frequently.

Eyes darting to the door or window expectantly.

Taking deep, excited breaths.

Biting the lower lip in nervous excitement.

Rubbing hands together eagerly.

Whispering, “I can’t wait” to themselves or others.

Fidgeting with objects, like twisting a ring or playing with a pen.

Heart pounding with eagerness.

Perking up at any noise that might signal the anticipated event.

Smiling slightly, as if imagining the future moment.

Knees bouncing up and down while seated.

Glancing at their phone or watch repeatedly.

Clutching a piece of clothing or accessory tightly.

Standing on tiptoe to get a better view.

Ears straining to catch any sound.

Swallowing nervously, throat dry with excitement.

Humming or softly singing to pass the time.

Practicing a speech or action they are looking forward to.

turning into a dragon really helps in every situation

missed ur flight? dragon. insecure about how powerless you feel? dragon. want to protect the people you love? dragon. just want to be left alone? dragon. become a dragon. you want a hot dog but the power's out and a cold hot dog grosses you out? turn into a dragon and heat that shit up. want girls to be scared of you? dragon. want girls to be really inexplicably horny for you? strangely also dragon. want girls to scritch behind your horns and call you pretty when you start purring? dragon.

it will help you. become a dragon

So for over a month and a half I’ve been told in my Creative writing MA class that my writing is too poetic and abstract to work in the form of a novel and that I need to simplify my meanings and sentences. I did as I was told and lost all interest in writing if I have to write in the same style that every other novelist does. Today I received this note from a classmate and didn’t realise how much I needed to hear it. Don’t change your art just because other people don’t get it. Don’t change your style to fit in with everyone else. It’s your story not theirs.