Writing Group: Embracing the Monster

Hello, Beasts and Creatures of all kinds!

Oh my, what big eyes you have… and what big ears you have… oh, and what big teeth you have! Your fur is so soft, too! It’s like you’re one big, misunderstood teddy bear! What? How could I run screaming from something so cute? Monsters have it tough already. I think it’s time we see them differently, because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

Embracing the Monster

Make sure you scroll down and read them if you haven’t! You may not be eligible if you don’t!

Count on all of you to start Spooky Month off with a prompt like this. But I suppose monsters are a year-round thing, aren’t they? After all, who doesn’t like to sit in the cold basement on a hot summer’s day with a good vampire movie? And it’s never not a good time for werewolves.

But I think this prompt goes a little deeper than that. We ourselves sometimes look in the mirror and see monsters. We see parts of ourselves we wish we didn’t have, parts we try to suppress into nonexistence. For some, it’s surface level. A girl using coverup to hide her freckles that adorn her entire face because she was teased about them in grade school. A little boy hiding a scar from when he fell off his bike in sheer embarrassment that if it’s seen, everyone will know he fell. But maybe one day, the rain washes away the coverup, and she’s complimented for those very same freckles. Or someone shows him they have a similar scar in the exact same spot, making them twins of a sort.

For others, it delves into parts of ourselves we fear to even look at. Perhaps someone is suffering from OCD, or depression, maybe even PTSD. It sounds strange, I know, but think about what an embrace means. It’s accepting, it’s meant as understanding. So perhaps the friends and family of the affected person accept them as they are. This in turn allows the affected to realize they’re not irreversibly broken. It lets them see that they are still human, even with all these demons inside their head. Through the supportive embrace of their loved ones, they can come to accept these “monsters” themselves, and maybe even finally take steps to getting help for it.

Of course, on the lighter, more literal side of things, this prompt could be about transformations of an entirely different kind. A newborn vampire finally accepting their new form when they realize it allows them to do so much. And while they can’t choose when to feed, they can choose who to feed on. Or a werewolf keeping just enough sense to enjoy the feel of the night wind as they bound through the woods in search of dinner, so lost in the melody of the moon that they forget they’re even hungry. Maybe the monster under the bed isn’t so bad after all. Maybe they’re just as scared of you as you are of them. For all you know, they could be your new best friend. They just need a chance.

There’s so many more kinds of monsters to be explored. So many that just need a hug, just like any of us on a bad day. I mean, it can’t be easy living in darkness and perpetually scaring everyone, can it?

So go forth and show these monsters a new appreciation!


Remember, this is part of our weekly Writing Group stream! Submit a little piece following the rules and guidelines below, and there’s a chance your entry will be read live on stream! In addition, we’ll discuss it for a minute and give you some feedback.

Tune into the stream this Saturday at 3:00pm CST to see if you made the cut!

The whole purpose of this is to show off the creativity of the community, while also helping each other to become better writers. Lean into that spirit! Get ready not just to share what you’ve got, but to give back to the other writers here as well.

Rules and Guidelines

We read at least four stories during each stream, two of which come from the public post, and two of which come from the much smaller private post. Submissions are randomly selected by a bot, but likes on your post will improve your chances of selection, so be sure to share your submission on social media!

  1. Text and Formatting

    1. English only.
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    3. Use proper spelling, grammar, and syntax.
    4. Your piece must be between 250-350 words (you can use this website to see your wordcount).
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  2. What to Submit

    1. Keep submissions “safe-for-work”; be sparing with sexuality, violence, and profanity.
    2. Try to focus on making your submission a single meaningful moment rather than an entire story.
    3. Write something brand new; no re-submitting past entries or pieces written for other purposes
    4. No fan fiction whatsoever. Take inspiration from whatever you’d like, but be transformative and creative with it. By submitting, you also agree that your piece does not infringe on any existing copyrights or trademarks, and you have full license to use it.
    5. Submissions must be self-contained (everything essential to understanding the piece is contained within the context of the piece itself—no mandatory reading outside the piece required. e.g., if you want to write two different pieces in the same setting or larger narrative, you cannot rely on information from one piece to fill in for the other—they must both give that context independently).
  3. Submission Rules

    1. One submission per participant.
    2. Submit your entry in a comment on this post.
    3. Submissions close at 12:00pm CST each Friday.
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    5. Be constructive and uplifting. These submissions are not for a professional market, and shouldn’t be treated as such. We do this, first and foremost, for the joy of the craft. Help other writers to feel like their work is valuable, and be considerate and gentle with critique when you offer it. Authors who leave particularly abrasive or disheartening remarks on this post will be disqualified from selection for readings.
    6. Use the same e-mail for your posts, reviews, and likes, or you may be rendered ineligible (you may change your username or author name between posts without problem, however).
    7. You may submit to either or both the public/private groups if you have access, but if you decide to submit to both, only the private group submission will be eligible.
    8. Understand that by submitting here, you are giving us permission to read your submission aloud live on stream and upload public, archived recordings of said stream to our social media platforms. You will always be credited, but only by the author name you supply as per these rules. No other links or attributions are guaranteed.

Comments on this post that aren’t submissions will be deleted, except for replies/reviews left on existing submissions.

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1 year ago

The Reapers Eve Devil
By Moothebloo

It was one more sleep before the land’s biggest celebration, Reapers Night, would be here. All the adults would finish harvesting the last of their crops. Stocking up for the approaching winter. Meanwhile, the children of the towns would play in the streets, the grass, and the hay. From the small friend groups to the gangs of trouble makers, Reapers Eve was the time of gathering.

All except for one child. In the town of Pumpkin Pact, a young girl named Lexi played alone in her family’s backyard that sat right on the outline of a forest. Watching the bugs and cloud stroll by, on their way into oblivion. Lexi heard nothing but stillness.

Snap, snap, rustle, the woods perked.

Lexi’s eyes widened at the trees, frozen in place like a deer. She waited in anticipation.

Rustle, THWACK! “Ow!”

Ow? Lexi was caught off guard by the unusually familiar sound. Raspy, but just like hers in a strange sense.

“Hello? Is someone there?” Lexi letting sympathy get the better of her, couldn’t help but take a few steps closer to the voice.

“Uhhhh… hello?” The voice mimicked back.

Now at the edge of the trees, Lexi peaked into the crevices of leaves and branches only to find a pair of wide yellow eyes staring right back at her. Too yellow to be a human, yet not sharp enough to be a wolf. Lexi blinked at them. The eyes blinked back.

Rustle rustle. The creature stepped reluctantly into the sunlight. Before Lexi, a figure equal to her size appeared with bright scarlet skin that glowed under the light. With horns that stood straight, angled as if they were pointing behind the being. Scaly wings that clumsily made their way through the brambles, with a thin tail that trailed behind.

“Are you a dragon?” Lexi spoke.

“What’s a dragon? I’m just Claudia.” the creature named herself.

“Oh, hello Claudia. Do you… have any friends?”

1 year ago

Sins of The Parents (Chronicles of The Dragon)
By: Makokam

Berri stepped out of her shower and reached for a towel.

She started with her normal hair, before switching to a new one for the fur on her back. Her hair was fine, but the fur…that could be a little stiff at times. And times like these she wanted her hair smooth and sleek. All of it.

So once she was moderately dry, she grabbed her leave-in conditioner and started smoothing it through her fur. She turned her head and twisted to get a better look at the back of her neck in the mirror.

Tears rolled down her face and her heart raced as she wavered between laughing and sobbing. She’d already cut herself twice, but who really cared about that now? No, she had to shave the fu- the hair. It was just hair. Right? But better to get rid of it. She could hide… whatever was going on with her ears.

Oh god what was happening with her ears? Why were they so high up her head now? Why did they look like that?

Oh it didn’t matter. As long as she could keep her hat on no one would know. She could do that. Right?

But the fur- the hair on her back, she had to get rid of that. Her hair and shirt could only cover so much. If it kept growing… oh god what if it spread past her back? It was bad enough it was on her neck. What if it went down her arms? Or got onto her fac-

She dropped the razor and gripped the sink. She tried to breath but any air she took in immediately left in a strangle laugh.

The sink cracked.

She loosened her grip and nearly collapsed. She groped around the floor for the razor.

The hair had to go.

Berri blinked. She set the conditioner down and shook her head.

She went back to her room, sat on the bed, and nuzzled under John’s arm.


“Meow,” she said, swishing her tail.

He chuckled and kissed her head, running his hands through her fur.

1 year ago

Embrace the Pact
By Twangyflame0

The moon was gleamed in almost a blood red light. The Mark continued to run and hide. Hide from us. Hide from himself. Hide from the Beast. Some of the Pack howled in laughter at the futility of this act, and yet the Mark still ran. They heaved through lead lungs as their heart pounded through their ears.

Ba-dump! Ba-dump! Ba-dump!

Their feet were drenched in the mud they had collected over their run. What clothes they had were ragged and partly torn already. The forest and its many brambles had taken its toll on their body. Brambles cut and catch. Branches smack and blind. Roots rise and trip. The ground gave out from underneath and turned to sludge.

Ba-dump! Ba-dump! Ba-dump!

The Chase accelerated. The Beast was so close to the Mark. One could practically taste the other. They almost breathed as one. Their senses intermingled each other as both Predator and Prey. The power of the woods itself breathed power into the connection. It slowly tethered the two. The primordial connection between the Hunter and the Hunted.


The Mark reached the clearing he was meant to be in. The trees bend just perfectly enough to a facsimile of a window with the moon in the center. The Beast prowled close and closer, preparing its hind legs. The Mark couldn’t help but stare at the moon like a deer caught in the light of a candle. And then the moon reached its zenith.


The Beast pounced upon the Mark. The Pack all yelped, brayed, hissed, growled, snarled, and howled in joy and anticipation. The Mark grabbed their head and swayed side to side. They tore off their clothes and fell to all fours. They crawled towards the blood moon, their body convulsing and writhing with every movement. The Beast tried to open its mouth, but the Mark clenched their jaw shut. The moon seemed to grow brighter and brighter as the woods thundered with noise.

Then the Beast finally screamed, the Mark being absolutely consumed.

C. M. Weller
1 year ago

Into the Arms of Lathander (A Divnine Monster Story)
C. M. Weller

The good news was that Gaarsh was no longer sick, and could play with the other children in the temple. The bad news was the same, as the young Bugbear tried to apply everything he had learned at Brother Felis’ knee. If they had only discovered his obligate carnivore nature a year ago, when he was still cute, there might not have been so much fuss.

As it was, none of the others of his age wanted to be anywhere near him. The little ones shrieked and cried about monsters and the older ones egged them on with terrible tales of Bugbear savagery. Every single one of their fabricated tales reached Gaarsh’s ears by way of the mischief-oriented Markl.

All Gaarsh had to do was name his roommate as the troublemaker, but he refused to.

“Many of those stories are correct, at least in part. My people ARE monsters. I do eat a lot of meat, and I can eat many more meats than most intelligent creatures. Other Bugbears are dangerous. I must show them that I am more than those truths.”

“And some people mean to only cause trouble by repeating those truths. It is up to us to teach people to mend their ways, and find the better path,” argued Felis.

“We must walk that path first, ourselves,” said Gaarsh, and went to the altar to pray for guidance.

Sometimes, Brother Felis wondered if he had taught the boy too well about the ways of forgiveness and guidance. He would soon have other reasons to worry about his young Bugbear charge.
Lathander, god of light and new beginnings, evidently chose Gaarsh as one of His blessed. It was hard to miss the golden glow of the dawn lord shining from every tuft of fluff the young Bugbear possessed.

When Gaarsh came out of his trance, he had the ability to use the gifts of Lathander. The earliest and most basic of gifts, but a gift all the same.

1 year ago

A Daughter’s Grace
By ThatWeirdFish, Edited by Lunabear

Paldacer’s ears pinned back, and his tail swished. She… deserved to know the truth. He reached out for the door and caught himself staring at his bestial hand, and it reminded him of his face: not quite human, not quite horse… a monster. He then quietly knocked, and she answered with his beloved’s smile.

“Hey, Shadow.” The teen set aside her broom and stepped outside. “What’s got you so brave that you want to see me in the sunlight?”

“Melka… I… need to tell you something.” Paldacer shifted on his hooves, a storm of fear thoughts roaring in the back of his mind. “Can we walk?”

One of Melka’s equine ears pivoted back to listen to the inn. After a moment, she spoke. “Sure. It’s early enough that nobody will fuss about me being out.” She smiled up at him. “The creek path, right?”

“Yes… that would be good,” Paldacer answered and turned towards the path. They walked together in silence, one unaware of the other’s heavy heart.

“So… what secret truth you’ve got for me today?” Melka asked once they reached the creek.

Paldacer paused as fear slowed his steps. “It’s… about who you really are. Who… I am.”

“Oh?” Melka grinned teasingly. “Am I secretly a goddess?”

A smile twitched on Paldacer’s lips. “I… wish it was something that beautiful….” Melka had his beloved’s laugh, and it both hurt and soothed to hear it again.

“So what am I then?”

“A…” Paldacer nearly faltered, shame choking his voice. “A daughter of a monster. My daughter.” He stared at her as she laughed again with genuine joy.

“Is that all?” She grinned up at him.

“You’re… not… upset about this?”

“Why not? It makes sense. I got a tail, plus your ears.” She flicked her ears as she pointed to them. “I hope I get your shapeshifting powers too. Because that would be awesome.”

“I… don’t know since you are half-human, but… possibly.” He smiled gently. He then flinched when she hugged him.

“I’m glad you’re my dad.”

Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around his treasure. “Me too.”

1 year ago

by Jessi B. Gibb

Dear Ma and Da

The church leaders will be writing to you all about the incident. And I know I’m gonna be in trouble when I get home. Please just listen to what I’m about to say first. The leaders are gonna listen to those boys instead of me and it ain’t right. It ain’t right it ain’t right it ain’t right. Listen.

I met someone at camp.
Meeting em was the best darn thing to happen to me for a real long time. I lit up like a junebug. We got to catch frogs, and eat s’mores by the campfire, and chase fireflies when the sun’s gone down. It was close to perfect. I say close because we couldn’t do none of these things in front of the pastors or their kids. They would’ve hated seeing it. I don’t blame them though. I would’ve hated seeing me if I was the same girl from a few weeks ago.

Her name’s Lizzy. And I love her.

I love her enough to kiss her in the woods. I love her enough to carve our names together on bark. And I love her enough to punch any boy in the face who tries to hurt her. And what those boys did to her was awful. I know you two are gonna be reading the reports that say I broke a kid’s nose, so let me tell you how they hurt Lizzy first. There were three boys who ganged up on her before I got there. One of them had a knife. They done broke some of her ribs and left the word “Dyke” on her wrist.

I ain’t gonna write much more than that. It hurts too much. Ma and Da, you can hate me all you want. Please just know first that I ain’t the monster here.

Last edited 1 year ago by Jessi
Adrian Solorio
Adrian Solorio
1 year ago

The Leviathian
By Adrian Solorio

“Monique!” Ruben yelled from the kitchen. “The hell’s my food?”

At the sound of Ruben’s voice, a shudder traveled through Monique’s thin body. She faltered to the doorway. “I—I didn’t”—she put her shaking hands behind her—“Ruben, you didn’t leave me any money, so I couldn’t—”

Ruben’s face darkened. He took a long pull from his beer, studied Monique over the top, and gulped until the beer was gone, and then he slammed the empty can onto the table. Monique jumped, and he smiled. ”Blamin’ me again, huh,” he said. “Think I’m in the mood for this bullshit. Dealin’ with that asshole of a boss and I gotta come home and hear it from you, too?”

“No”—Monique’s mouth dried, and she swallowed—“I mean, I tried Ruben, I tried. I did my best, but you didn’t—”

Before she could finish, the wooden chair clattered to the floor, and Ruben shot towards her. He reached her, and wrapped his fingers around her throat, and she flinched—but did not scream. “After all I do, you think you’re gonna walk all over me, too,” he yelled.

Monique clawed at his arms as her face purpled. When Ruben finally let her go, she crumbled to the floor, gasping, tears and mucus a paste on her face.

“I don’t understand why you make me do this,” Ruben said. He stared at Monique’s delicate body, splayed like a squashed daddy-long legs. And for a moment, he saw his mother there, but he forced the memory away, and stepped towards the living room. “You want me to leave?”

“No!” Monique grabbed his legs. “No—don’t—”

“Think you’re gonna find somebody better, you ugly twig, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” cried Monique, and she meant it. She knew nobody would love her the way he did. No matter how much he choked or smacked her, she would remain, for life had given her only this one type of love. And so, later that night, as they lay in bed, they shared tender words, gentle kisses, and pacifying caresses, and reaffirmed their ceaseless, senseless cycle of love through hurt & pain.

Last edited 1 year ago by Adrian Solorio
Tamela Redfin
Tamela Redfin
1 year ago

Left in Stitches

By Tamela Redfin

It didn’t take me long to send the recording to Adler. Now it was just a matter of time for Sulfur Cora and the others to hear my findings. While I waited for that, I did as I usually did. Observed the lifestyle of these cyphas. Using what I knew now, it would help me greatly.

I always found myself checking up on Radon Cecilia. Was she staying out of trouble these days?

“He did what?” A cypha asked Radon Cecilia in surprise.

“Yeah, I don’t get it either, Marcy. He just asked me questions.”

“And, you answered them, why?” A male cypha put his hands on his hips.

“Maybe if one of those stupid humans…. It clicks, we have a chance. Think about it, Travis. Marcy.”

“You have heard the rumors about yourself, right?” Marcy asked. “I’d be careful with what you do.”

A strange urge I’d never felt swallowed me. To jump out, and… no Cameron this isn’t your fight. Nor should I. She was a cypha. But she also mentioned her nails had been filed recently.

Radon Cecilia stared at them, “Yes, I know who I am, but as long as Feldspar Augen keeps his pit pats off my cousin, I’m okay.”

“And suppose he does. Sapphira is much younger and much…”

“Silence, everybody!” I shouted out. The cyphas looked at me and Radon Cecilia groaned. “You’re… on forbidden ground.”

“And what is a puny human like you gonna do about it?” Radon Cecilia smirked.

“Come, or I’ll be forced to tell my supervisor about your misbehavior.” I crossed my arms. Marcy and Travis quickly ran off, but Radon Cecilia looked ready to take me down.

“Leave me alone, why don’t you? It’s always you.”

“It’s just where I happen to be, Cecilia. I don’t mean harm, but please go.” After what felt like hours, she finally left.

The feeling didn’t go away. What is wrong with you Cameron? Of course, she’d love the race who is wiping away her culture and ruining her people. Yet I wasn’t ready to let go.

Samurai Jackson
Samurai Jackson
1 year ago

Who We Truly Are
By Samurai Jacksm

I’m in a totally white space, the only thing that I see is a giant cage with a tall humanoid figure covered in shadows, for some reason this creature scares me, even tho It’s caged.

“Are you gonna free me this time?” Says the shadowy figure in a echoing voice.

There is a lock in the cage, and I feel like I could open it, in fact, there is something within me that says that I should open it, even tho this creature scares me, I want to let him loose, but I’m scared of doing it.

“It’s always like this… why do I scare you, I was always with you.” Says the shadowy figure.

There is something about this creature that sounds familiar, I’ve being here before, in this exact situation, I can feel it.

“I’m not evil, I only look like something evil.” The shadowy figure says that while bending over to stare at me in the eye behind those thick bars.

It doesn’t have an eye, it doesn’t have a face, but somehow this thing is staring directly at my soul.

“You always look so incomplete, it’s so sad…” Says the shadowy figure.

He’s right, there was always something lacking within me, something that my soul rejected since I was born, a part of me that was essential to be who I truly was, this creature in front of me is the thing I lack.

“I’m a part of you, I’m the true you, with me you’re gonna be a complete person, if that person is a monster or not is not up to us, but to him.” Says the shadowy figure.

I put my hand im the lock, and I open the cage.

“Who we really are is gonna decide that, maybe I’m the monster for caging you in the beggining.

Calliope Rannis
Calliope Rannis
1 year ago

The Bloodsucker And The Wormeater (Nyx’s Story)
By Calliope Rannis

Nyx was in a miserable mood. Sure, her seat was soft and comfortable, and the setting sun outside was beautiful – but it just made her feel worse. Instead she just sat listlessly, slowly scraping her sharp black nails against the wood of her chair, watching how it splintered and peeled away.

It felt like she was there for a long time, wallowing in her gloom. And yet the light had barely dimmed before she heard footsteps approaching her, with the familiar rustle of crude, scratchy clothes.

“So. What was it this time, my dear?”

“Nothing important Louise,” she replied sullenly.

“That scream I heard told me a very different story, dear.”

Nyx looked up, her hazel eyes meeting with the mismatched irises of her companion. One was a dark leafy green, the other purple as a bruise, set within a face of vivid pink skin, a shock of ragged white hair, and a crown of horns grown from her skull.

Louise’s expression was stern, but her eyes were worried. That genuine concern was enough for Nyx to relent. “Look, I was just,” she gestured to a book flung onto the table before her, “trying to read. That’s all it was.”

An understanding nod. Then a flash of anger. “Fie to that book! It always hurts you like this.”

“That’s hardly the book’s fault.” Nyx looked down at herself again.

More rustling, a creak of the chair, a gentle weight on her lap, and a hand lifted her cold chin up to meet Louise’s eyes once more, now only inches from her own.

“I can tell you a story, if you need one.”

“You don’t need to read me the book-”

“Hah! No, not THAT story. I will tell a story once told by my mothers,” she replied, as her fingers stroked Nyx’s fangs. “A spoken story, that lives and wriggles and leaps. Not some dead tale stuck within leaves and leather.”

Their foreheads touched, and Nyx felt the welcome pricking of horns against her scalp.

“I think I would like that very much, Louise,” she said with a toothy smile.

1 year ago

He’s My Friend!
By: VeryBoringName

The man in dark, sleek clothes banged on the door, no answer, he did so again, yet again, no answer, he sighed to himself and asked himself.

“Why does nobody ever answer.”

He prepared himself, taking a step back, before rushing towards the door with one shoulder braced for impact. The door gave way fairly easily, his cap went flying somewhere, no matter, he didn’t like it anyway, a small booklet with red lettering on the front also dropped nearby, no matter either, he knew the formula by memory.

He took a pistol from his holster and was ready for whatever was to come screeching at him. Instead, he got handed his cap back by a small child, no doubt only twelve at best, next to her, the thing he was after, smaller than usual, no matter, it will be dead soon enough anyway.

“I will need you to remain calm…” He started speaking to the child, who seemingly didn’t notice, or refused to notice, the monster behind her.

“Helen! But my papa sometimes calls me Hela!” The child finished enthusiastically.

He slowly raised his gun, pointing it at the monster.

“I’m not sure if you noticed, but there’s a monster behind you.” The man began, focusing on the child so that his spite for the monster would not taint the message. “I will need to…”

“He’s my friend sir! Papa and mama told me I could keep him! And we’ve become best friends!” The child hugged the monster.

“Hela, whatever you are feeling, it is a ruse by the monster you’re hugging, we need to get rid of them to protect innocent ones like you from them.”

Helen just hugged the monster tighter, so much so it made a barely noticeable, yelp. “He’s harmless, there’s no reason to get rid of him.”

But they needed to be killed, after all… His hand faltered, why did they need to kill them, he glanced at the booklet and holstered his gun. “Just, don’t go around with, it, I don’t want trouble.”

“Thanks mister!” Helen replied cheerfully.

Mehrunes Drejgon
Mehrunes Drejgon
1 year ago

“Awaited Night of the Beasts”
By Mehrunes Drejgon

Incredibly inhuman scream teared apart the night’s air cold and misty. It was indisputably a sign that the night of the hunting had begun.
They’ve happened more and more recently. In the time of each night of hunting, swarms of beasts ravaged through the city, and after them, the hunters, no better than beasts.
Both sides collects the bloody toll, like a plague devastating Yharnam, piece by piece, citizen by citizen.
Yharnam was never a kind place to live, even if people comes here to heal themself and pray because of it, that place gave no happiness or even kindness, even to local people. Only one thing that people care about here is blood, everything revolves around profit from blood healing. You pay by blood, you buy blood. Yharnam is cold, cruel as a view of blood in glass bottles at shop windows.
Human scream, scream of frightened to death man behind wall of meine room.
Silence remains. That was no doubt neighbour, he made a profit from trading on the docks that are now littered with dead bodies instead of water. He always spit when he saw me.
Even saliva ran to my mouth.
You think why he was spitting? Because of the blood, of course. My father was a stranger in Yharnam, even worse, he was a hunter. Yharnams are obsessed with bloodlines. You are worse because of the blood that flows in you, you are better because the blood of the first faithfuls of the healing church flows in your veins. I am worse because I have the blood of the one who was swimming in corrupted blood to protect this city. My mother made this clear to me by locking me up at nights with iron bars in my room.
I hate this place so much. From street resound a scream of unbridled joy.
Yharnam is falling, which all the blinded humans cannot see.
I don’t even feel sorry for this city. The people that lives here are more monstrous than the beasts that they slaughter so ruthlessly, even though a moment ago they were their neighbors, brothers, sisters, parents. No, it doesn’t matter that they are from Yharnam, humans are just like that. Worst beasts, biggest monsters of all. They deserved what awaits them.
More screams of joy outside.
I got up from bed, my whole body ached but I was happy for the first time in a long time, maybe the first time. I broke the door without any problem, tearing the massive bolts out of the wall. Feeling that I was finally Free, I shouted with joy at the top of my voice, which echoed with the voices of the others from the street.
Only one voice in the choir did not match the rest, a fearful voice from above.
Then I gave myself to this feeling of freedom and I did not regret anything I did afterwards.

*Inspired by Bloodborne*

1 year ago

Like A Pez Dispenser
By Marx

Daisy’s bloody hands made quick work of Will’s bonds. She would have expected them to be shaky… unsure… However, they were anything but…

“Are you… okay?” Will asked as he was freed, giving Daisy a worried look.

“Me?” She looked down at herself. “Most of this isn’t even my blood…”


Daisy immediately looked away in shame. “I’m sorry… I know I said I’d be better. I swear I tried! But Sabrina was going to kill you! She was going to kill Rhea! And it wouldn’t have been… fast… I don’t care if she took me back to Alex! Well… that’s a lie… I’d care. A lot. But… I care a lot more about-… I just…”

Daisy slumped even further. “I’d rather you be alive and disappointed than proud of me and dead…”

“I’m not disappointed!” Will suddenly embraced Daisy. “I know I said no more killing. But dealing with nutcases like Sabrina are the exception, okay? You were defending yourself. That’s much different from the… other thing you did…”

“You don’t understand…” Daisy sighed. “She thought I was weak. That I was a victim. And I WAS. Because I was trying so hard to be ‘good’. To be like you and Rhea. But when I made that decision. That I needed to be the old me or you would die. I liked it… I liked it a lot.

“Seeing that defeated look in her eyes right before I ripped her head off, knowing she’d never see her ‘beloved’ Alex again… Feeling her die… Being covered in her blood… I feel… strong again. I felt like… ME…

“I think… I’m a lost cause, Will. I think I’m broken. Like Sabrina clearly was, only aware of it. When you think about it, the only real difference between us is I’m not stupid enough to think Alex actually LOVES me.”

Will broke the hug to make Daisy look him in the eye. “There’s no absolute way to be a good person, Daisy. You saved me from a brutally painful death when you didn’t have to. I dub thee the title of good.”

Connor A.
Connor A.
1 year ago

Hardrock’s Devotion (Sword Isles)
By Connor A.
(CW: Themes of abuse, mentions of sacrifice)

Do you trust me, my child?

“Of course I trust you.”

Then why, pray tell, do you waver in your task?

“It’s just nerves. Emaris outlawed these rituals before I was old enough to take part.”

Those are a fool’s thoughts and excuses. Any devout follower of mine would still carry it out regardless of non-believers’ attempts to stop him.

“…I apologize for my past misdeeds against you.”

There is still doubt in your heart. Have you been conspiring with that demon behind my back?

“No, lord. Why would I listen to the Imp Father’s words when I have your comfort?”

You must understand, I cannot stay in this world for very long. There is simply too much sin. I need a pure vessel, and you are the only one in the city that can meet my needs.

“And it is an honor to serve you.”

Then begin with the opening prayer.

“‘Oh lord, who watches over the world, please guide this humble servant towards you, for sin makes him blind, and you give him sight.”

Take the knife. Now say the invitation prayer and make the offering.

“Oh lord, who made all life, take this humble servant’s blood, for only you can make it pure. And let it be that you can use it as your own, so that this humble servant can be closer to you.”

How interesting. This is the most natural a vessel has ever felt. Perhaps I underestimated your devotion.

“No force in this life can sway me, lord.”

There is still old age to worry about. Prepare the next ritual. Quickly, before your offering escapes. Is this something you can do on your own? Or do you think you will struggle with those pesky “nerves” again?

“I can assure you, lord, I can no longer feel them. Only your love.”

Good. Now, begin.

1 year ago

“Free Boundaries”
By Constellasphere

A call of freedom rang through the night air as a beat up convertible sped down the country road, breaking through the otherwise silent night. The weather was perfect for a summer night and the sky was alight by the moon and stars; all the more reason to travel. 

Nero smiled as Saor pulled himself up and sat down on the back of the vehicle, spreading his arms wide and closing his eyes. His black hair reminded him of the night sky as it blew wildly in the wind, and the feathers that were beginning to grow back on his chest and arms flowed beautifully. It’d been a few months since he’d seen the Avian look so excited, so…free. These night drives were their escape, the only time they could simply exist without judgement. 

“Stretch your wings out, babe!” Nero shouted over the rushing air, glancing up at his love. A nervous look crossed his face, and Saor was quick to glance at the world around them. But once the man confirmed that they were alone and no one else was around this late at night, a relieved sigh came from him. 

Saor’s smile was beautiful; he rarely showed it when he was forced to stay inside due to the features that were too difficult to hide. And when he fully embraced the appendages he had been ostracized for all his life, Nero couldn’t describe how beautiful he was. 

Black wings sprouted from his back, bursting out in a flurry of obsidian feathers. They reached upwards, the very tips pointing to the heavens, seemingly touching the stars above. In the bright moonlight, they were illuminated. 

The Avian flapped his wings, his eyes opening once more and landing on Nero. “Hey, focus on the road!” He chided, his face flushing a bit when he realized the man was staring at him. 

“Sorry, you’re just so beautiful when you let loose.” Saor said nothing in response, simply fluttering his wings and looking away. 

“But I’m a monster…” 

“Monstrously gorgeous-” 

“I won’t hesitate to slap you.”

1 year ago

The Programming (Darkspell Universe)
By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

Lilith would have panted, if she had lungs to pant with. Instead, she stood in the knee-deep, sewage water, trying to ignore the painful ripples and cracks, which now lined her body. In front of her lay her adversary; a pale being, with long claws, but without teeth. She had never seen anything like it, before finding an entire colony in the sewers.

The reptilian hissed, bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds. It was lying on the floor, its legs shattered by her granite blows, but still breathing.

“Congratulations, golem,” it snarled. “You’ve bested me.”

“I know,” she replied, without emotion.

“What now?”

“Now, I end it. Like the rest of your brood.”

She watched its eyes widen, as it crawled backwards.

“But… I never harmed anyone. I never ate or even killed a single human.”

“I can’t know that. Innocent or not, it doesn’t matter anyway. My programming won’t allow it.”

Though if she was honest, she had her doubts. She didn’t want to be just a mindless drone, slaughtering her way through the guts of any old monster. Her clay gears whirred through her limbs, forcing her forward. Her pistols, now empty, remaining in their holsters.

“Please… I… I’m not like the rest of my nest! I swear on whatever god you want.”

Lilith tried to force herself to stop. And stop she did, with her face inches from the reptilian. Then it hit her.

“Your breath reeks of rotten meat,” she remarked. “Human meat.”

“I… That… Those aren’t…!”

“They were people. Some still children. Trust me, the scent was programmed into me, to find monsters like you.”

“I… You…” the reptilian snarled. “I had to eat. We all have to eat.”

“What did you do? Swallow them alive, to digest them whole?”

“I can change! I’ll go after other prey!”

Lilith grabbed the reptilian and wrapped her arms around it, in a twisted embrace. She let her program take over, her powerful arms crushing the reptilian. She heard its bones break, mingled with its rasping final breath.

She dropped the reptilian’s corpse, dusted herself off and left.

Last edited 1 year ago by Alex