User:Bland.spam

Bland Scripts:
Bland Scripts are where I write you a short story including your name and pronouns. You may pick the plot/prompt. This can be used to experiment, or if you're not feeling validated. Everyone is welcomed!

(Please put trigger warnings where applicable for others. I will do anything except the obvious 18+.)"Example:""'Name: Pock .. Pronouns: kit/kits, they/them .. Prompt: Opening a door... but dramatic'" ''Pock was ready; kit had been planning this for years. Kits' whole life was dedicated to this one thing:''

Opening that door.

''Pock walked down the hall to where the door rested. The hallway wasn't long - no, if anything it was the shortest hallway kit walked - but the journey here had left Pock weak and tired. But, alas, kit had finally arrived to the door. It was a wooden door, its cracks and chips showing its age. Pock took a deep breath. They were ready. They were ready.''

Slowly, oh so slowly, Pock raised kits hand...

''The door was open. Pock ran.''

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Post 1
{| class="mw-collapsible fandom-table" !@ !Triggers !Story !Side Notes

@TheAshSystem

 * x
 * Jackson was stood in sunflower's room, preparing for the dance in the room below him. Sunflower's confidence was through the roof in what he was wearing: a black, puffed dress that reached sunflower's ankles, frilly lacing making intricate patterns. God's shoes were slightly heeled, small bows planted in the middle. It almost looked like a medieval gown, and Jackson felt like he was going to a ball. "So be it," god thought, and delicately tied a pastel pink ribbon around their midsection. Jackson spun in a circle, admiring sunflower's get-up with a quiet elation. Swiftly, Jackson turned on god's heel, trotting down the hall to the dance down below.

@Shipaxe

 * fear, horror elements
 * They weren't going to make it.

Phobos was sprinting. Stim's feet were sore and calloused, yet they ran anyways. God's breathing was labored, and he worried they wouldn't be able to hold on anymore.

Suddenly, stim fell.

Phobos scrambled around, trying desperately to stand. But, it was useless, God's legs refused to work, and his arms weren't of much use either. Stim tried to crawl, if to get any distance, but it was futile. The create caught up to them, and they were too far in the forest for stim's screams to be heard.
 * You may send as many asks as you'd like!

@PrinceLuci

 * the word bleeding (not blood)
 * Lucifer flicked the mic on, his feet dangling under the soundboard. As the song started, its head bopped to the music. They wrote this song themselves, something based on their hardships and struggles. The song started soft, melodic. His voice flowed with the tune, calmly hitting all the notes with practiced ease. Then, it came to the climax of the song. It's voice suddenly became raspy as they shouted the notes, their emotion bleeding through their words. His voice shook slightly, but they plowed through. The tone switched to a half-way point, still holding the shrill, angry energy, but softer notes intertwined delicately in-between. Soon enough, the song ended with a shriek, held 6 notes long and passionate all the way through.

Taking a deep breath, Lucifer ended the recording.

@Confusi-skept

 * war, mentions of death
 * Weather shuffled in zir chair, taking a sip from the small mug in their hands. Fluff was seated at a table, cloud's companion across from them, holding a mug of their own. Neon's foot tapped delicately on the cement pavement below it, though it made no sound. Weather watched the noisy massacre below voix, its eyes fluttering with boredom. Faer's friend clinked their cup on the table and adjusted their seat. Weather turned to face them.

"How do you do it?" they asked, looking up at zir quizzingly. "This would be your second world war, would it not? How does it not affect you?"

"Third," was all Weather said, taking another sip.

Faer's friend coughed awkwardly, uneased by the silence. "You didn't-"

"No, I did not answer your question," Weather interrupted, facing back to the battle. "That is because there is none. On the occasion, I'll cry; I'll mourn for those who have to suffer because of the selfish. But when I am faced with it, I feel nothing but pity. Pity for those who are blind to reality, blind to their stupidity, blind to their actions. And it makes me numb, after a while."

Fluff's friend was still, a shocked expression falling upon their face.

"You wouldn't understand," said Neon, "for your life is short. You will die at around 70, my friend, and knowing this means you must live a life meaningful to you." Vae took a breath, if only to smell in aer sorrow. "I, however, live much longer than you. I have no reason to shake off my grief. I can wallow in it all I wish. I have nothing else to do."

With that, Weather shifted in their seat and continued to watch the war.
 * Wow, that got sad, sorry.

@CrazyLace882

 * x
 * There Owen sat, frantically pressing buttons on the screen. It was night, and kyuus light was off, so the single thing illuminating the room was the blue light flashing from the television. Suddenly, the screen faded to black, and red words reading "defeat" came into view. He huffed angrily, throwing kyuus controller down in frustration. Kyuu angrily picked up a paintbrush, violently scribbling out more details on it's painting as it waited for a new round to start.
 * I may have misinterpreted the prompt, my bad.

@Shipaxe

 * x
 * Sat at a smooth wooden table was Pico, his legs swinging leisurely under him. Blam paused his writing to take a small sip of coffee, slowly downing the drink in order to not burn blams tongue. The mug was softly set back on its' saucer, and Pico returned to his writing. Blam read over his poem, smoothing over a wrinkle from the stained napkin blam used not too long ago. It sounded nice to his ears, so blam pocketed it, excusing himself from the cafe.

@ARandomPan

 * fear, minor horror, some repeated phrases/words, implied death
 * Blake shivered, unease wracking its way through his frame. Suddenly, he felt himself falling, falling, falling, until he felt himself land on something metallic. Forcing his aching back to straighten out, Blake arched up, scanning his surroundings. Even though it was dark, he could make out some things. It was like some sort of workshop, metal parts piled where he was sitting. Blake stumbled getting up, but once he righted himself, the lights turned on.

Around him, there were several machines, each towering over him threateningly. Apparently, turning on the lights also meant turning on the whole unit. They all whirled thunderously, the creaks and bangs along with it making a sickening accompaniment.

Blake suddenly felt very, very suffocated, despite the fact that the room was impressively large.

He made a break for the closest door he could spot. His breaths were labored and short. His feet ached, though he had only taken a few steps.

The more Blake ran, the further the door appeared to get. The machinery closed in around him, echoing louder and louder. The whole thing was so dizzying that Blake couldn't tell if he was actually running on the ground or the ceiling.

A loud shhnk! sounded from behind him, and suddenly he didn't have to think of what he was running on anymore.

@Astridsplayhouse

 * x
 * Aster absentmindedly kicked the bass drum at zir feet, writing in some final notes on the staff paper in front of zem. Aster had been working all week on this, and ze think ze are almost ready with the first draft. If ze could just...

Fixing an unharmonious chord with an accidental, Aster cracked zir knuckles and leaned back in zir chair. Hastily grabbing a few necessities for the piece, ze began recording.

It was a slow, melodic song. Ze had been inspired when walking on a hike, watching squirrels pass by zem. It spoke of life long past, looking forward to the future with reverence. It was a song Aster wrote because of some struggles they had encountered. This song gave zem a sense of purpose and longing. Of course, ze were scared for what might happen, but ze knew this song would still be here, waiting for zem. Aster sang peacefully, basking in the tranquil scenery ze remembered from that walk not too long ago.

This was zir safe space. '' Bass drum: Typically the drum that keeps the beat. On a drum set, this is the large drum the percussionist hits with one of their feet. ''
 * I'm a music geek. Here's some definitions to those it may concern:

'' Staff paper: Paper specifically for writing music. ''

'' Chord/unharmonious chord: A chord is multiple notes played at once. An unharmonious chord is a chord that doesn't sound nice. ''

'' Accidental: A note that is not a part of the scale. Examples are A# (A sharp), Eb (E flat), etc. ''

@Altaccount00

 * x
 * Rain skipped along the sidewalk, umbrella in pocket and coat dripping wet. Ae didn't care, though, as ae were having the time of aer life. The soft plip, plip, plip from when the water hit the ground, and the louder shpunk where aer rainboots connected with a puddle was music to aer ears.

Rain couldn't think of anywhere ae'd rather be.
 * Short but sweet.

@Nemosexual

 * mention of death, but this is a misinterpretation.
 * Andy was in a competition to see who could sleep the longest. Gentleself was a strong sleeper, and it provided some good cash. Gentles family was struggling, and gentle was more than willing to do something to help. Besides, gen believed he could beat everyone there.

Everyone lied down, given the count of 30 minutes to sleep. Once that time was up, the games were on.

.. .. ..

Andy slept easily, gentles tired body relaxing greedily. If it weren't for the judges staring them all directly in the face, Andy would say this is the best sleep gen has ever gotten. The beds were nice, comfy.

Slowly, 11 hours in, Andy had started to wake. Gentle's been practicing for this very moment, of course, so gen was ready. He kept gentles eyes softly shut and attempted to keep gentles breathing and heartrate slow and steady.

Suddenly, it felt like all eyes were on gen. He could feel the judges' stare, directly in front of gentles face. Gen tried to keep gentleself under control, but the task proved difficult.

The air around gen felt suffocating, the nearby snores and shuffles making gentles ears ring. Andy could almost feel like gentles eyes were open, making direct eye contact with the man before him. I can't give it up now, Andy thought to gentleself, ''just keep it up. Just a little while longer. You're doing this for your family!''

Andy felt like gen was going insane, gentles composure close to breaking.

Suddenly, a soft horn and a whispered announcement played. "Crox has lost the battle. They will be taking their leave now. Please continue with your eternal slumber."

Andy was shook with dread at the final sentence. What was going on? Was this some execution type contest? Was Andy just leading gentleself to his own fate?

Andy heard distant screaming and crying behind gentleself, gentles ears rapidly swelling and creating rifts and wobbles with the outside noise. A door shut, and all fell silent. Eerily silent.

The snores were gone. The shuffles were gone. The ringing was gone. All that was left was a silence gentle has never heard before. It was the absence of any noise, of any wavelengths.

Was this what it was like when the game ended? Was everyone going to win, because they all were going to...

Andy was sat up, gentles ears suddenly popping. He could hear again.

"Andy has lost the battle! They will be taking their leave for now! Please continue with your peaceful slumber."

What? First of all, that's not what gen remembered the announcer saying the previous time. Secondly, he lost?

"Your eyelids fluttered, and I saw a portion of your pupil," the judge whispered deeply to gen, turning gentle so that gen could place gentles feet on the ground. It was like he had read Andy's mind.

Seeming to expect Andy's refusal to open gentles eyes, the judge opened them himself. "Wakey, wakey."

Andy relented, but still had cried. Gentle was hoping for the victory, was hoping to bring home some money to gentles family.

"It's alright," cooed the judge, helping Andy out of the room.

(This is so funny please--- like you have to remember that during this whole dilemma y'all are just lying there, asleep. Lollllll)
 * Dramatic situations that shouldn't be dramatic are my specialty muahaha

This is so funny please--- like you have to remember that during this whole dilemma y'all are just lying there, asleep. Lollllll

@SliceofPurple

 * x
 * Sage rocked back and forth on rains driveway, watching the sky release tears of joy. The umbrella rain held was positioned so that rain had easy view of the sight, tranquility humming quietly through rains body. Sage breathed in the scent the small storm carried with it, grateful for the work the clouds above rain did for rainself. Tilting rains head down slightly, rain watched the water wash away chalk marks and dead leaves. Seeing the sight made Sage feel a certain connection; it was like the droplets carried away all of rains struggles. That's why Sage loved this weather. It was peaceful, it was kind, it was rain.

@Fayetheweirdgoblin

 * x
 * Faye knocked tentatively on the door, lieges feet shuffling awkwardly on the carpet. Abruptly, the door opened wide, and a confident-looking person greeted pom. It walked in, looking around at the large display of clothing and fabrics. The room was a marvelous sight, almost as if it were taken directly from a movie. Arsyn sat down where the fitter waved their hand to and waited while they shuffled around for the requested materials. Once the fitter had found their items, they brandished them to Faye, who gasped in awe. In from of bee was a navy blue vest, adorned with small, black jewels, as well as a white shirt with various deep colors and depths of 2d stars scattered along it.

Arysn stood excitedly, rising stars arms so that the fitter could asses star size. Just as quickly as that was finished, the fitter started to cut and sew the fabrics so that it would fit to poms size.

It took a while, of course, but for this liege was patient. Once the adjustments were completed and trimmed to perfection, Faye was led to a mirror.

It was like nothing bee had ever seen before. Star felt so... amazing in this suit. Bee looked like something they had always imagined pomself to feel, and that in and of itself was refreshing. It cried tears of joy, blubbery tears pouring down star's cheeks.

It looked like itself.
 * You're alright! No need to apologize for your pronoun count. I don't mind one bit!

@BexTheSageLeafBox

 * x
 * Sage headed outside tired from a long day of working. Blue didn't expect much from the mailbox, but what the contents held left faire speechless.

It was a normal day in Lime's house, huddled up in its room and spending the least amount of time on homework. Abruptly, a small ding sounded from faire phone, so blue picked it up to check.

--"felix check yo maiiilllllllll"

It was a message from faer crush, a random and unprompted one at that.

--"?"

--"wym '?'"

--"theres nothing in my gmail"

--"no i mean like ur mailbox"

--"???"

--"ur house mail, silly. like the one outside ur house. lol"

Confused, but ultimately deciding not to question it, Lemon headed outside to his mailbox.

Sunflower opened it cautiously, suspicious of its contents.

In there was a small package, obviously put together by someone that wasn't the mailperson.

Lemon crept back inside, looking around for their crush to see if they were hiding. No such luck.

Sunflower sighed dejectedly, deciding to just go for it.

A bunny hat.

Its crush. Got it. A bunny hat.

Felix squealed happily, hastily pushing it over faer head and rushing to the nearest mirror.

Lime was delighted, ecstatic, and blue just didn't know what to say. Stimming happily, Sage grabbed faire phone.

--"omg1!! what?112!!??/"

--"ill take it u like it lol"

--"yes!1!?21!! youasdfadfkahsjdfhe thankyuosau"

--"heh ur so cute"

Lemon felt faer heart melt at the message as well as the gift, and decided then and there that they've never been happier.
 * No need to apologize for pronoun count! I came into this expecting that.
 * @FoxBanana
 * capture, repeated word
 * The stairs were mountainous before them, and it was then and there that she decided she didn't want to be there.
 * The stairs were mountainous before them, and it was then and there that she decided she didn't want to be there.

You see, Lior didn't go into this willingly. Its captor, however, could not care less.

"3...2..."

The large gate blocking Lior from the dangerous decent lifted, and he was off.

Quickly, he dodged around swinging axes, falling pillars, and some sort of... hyena?

They neared the halfway point when she had tripped, tumbling down, down, down, until its head slammed onto a larger, flat surface.

Sneering down at them was his captor, a wicked smile splitting its face.

"Round 2."
 * (In response to asker apologizing for pn count:) 4 pronouns? That's nothing. Watch me. /lh/playful

@SereiSys

 * x
 * Avery stood on a chair, stretching aer arms as far as they would go, attempting to place a decoration in the highest area of his house.

It was a month before Halloween, but Avery couldn't care less. His neighbors had already set up their own houses 3 months early, why not he try?

The house was nearly completed; spiders, skeletons, pumpkins and the like placed meticulously all over the house. Aer friends were coming over, (yes, a month early,) and he had to make everything perfect.

Finally finished pinning the final item to the wall, (a large ghost hung high above the doorway) Avery stepped down and admired aer work.

It wasn't much, but it was modest decor. Ae was pround of himself. Look at all that, he did that all by himself!

Three quick knocks resounded throughout the house, and Avery hustled to aer door.

"Welcome!"
 * @Nonbiny ghost
 * x
 * This time, Finn had decided to draw what was outside stims window. The scenery was breathtaking to moth, even if ghost sees it every single day.
 * x
 * This time, Finn had decided to draw what was outside stims window. The scenery was breathtaking to moth, even if ghost sees it every single day.

He started off with light pencil marks, not caring much for detail but more for the shapes and perspective. Music played quietly through moths phone, a nice playlist Finn enjoys listening to as ghost paints.

Stim started with the browns of the trees, then the gray of the houses, then the greens of the leaves and the grass.

Finn felt serene with moths little patterns. This was something ghost attempted to do at least once a week, something he felt helped stim recharge from the week.

An hour or so later, Finn had finished. Ghost grabbed the pen he had prepped before hand, and created small marks that made the piece seem more cartoony. Finn loved it. How could moth not? The best works come from out own hands, after all.
 * Pronoun counts do not deter me. You'll barely notice how much I switch around. /lh /g /pos
 * }