Missy Attempts Writing

Shades of the Past~ my main work-in-progress at the moment. It's a middle-grade, more lighthearted story than my usual fare, but it's a ton of fun!

The world at large turned upside-down about a decade ago, when World War 3 went nuclear. The nuclear fallout caused a number of genetic mutations, including unlocking strange, uncontrollable powers in some, known as Uncannies. Austin Walker’s personal world was shattered when his older brother, Aidan, disappeared without a trace two years ago. When a former schoolmate's older sister who's also an Uncanny goes missing, Austin reluctantly agrees to help her track down her sister—and who knows, maybe he'll find Aidan and the secret to controlling his Uncanny along the way.

Associated tags: #sotp #shades of the past #sotp posting

~

Ascensionism~ this is definitely the most unusual and darkest project I've written to date. It's totally not a shameless almost rip-off of Sleep Token's lore, no, not at alllllll-

"Please. I cannot bear the ruin of my own humanity any longer—" for some, humanity is not a curse. Not so with him—his own mortality haunts him. All he longs for is a way to become something better, something less catastrophic. When the goddess Death appears and offers him the chance to ascend to godhood, perfection— he leaps at it. But ultimately, he must confront the question of what it means to be human & what he is willing to sacrifice in his pursuit of perfection.

Associated tags: #ascensionismcore #ascensionism #ascenionism posting

~

"I— I still cling to the familiarity of my humanity," he choked out, feeling hot shame rising in himself. How filthy and debauched he must look to these gods, who were pure, had been stripped of this baser, animal instinct.

His stomach twisted as he felt vestiges of their disgust bleeding over to him. He swallowed back the too-sweet saliva filling his mouth as he stared at the gold-flecked stone floor, silently begging for a mercy he did not deserve and would never receive.

"And?" Death's voice had become even quieter, if that were possible.

He dared to look up in her direction.

Death had not turned back to face him. She looked smaller than normal, with her shoulders curled inwards, her head bowed. She did not look at all how he had anticipated and every atom of his wretched being longed to run to her, to wrap his arms around the goddess and hold her near, till she looked more like herself, instead of this colorless, muted version of her.

"And I— I do not know if I will ever change." His voice cracked on the last word and it ripped a hole in reality itself.

He could have fought it. Turned his natural instinct to flee off, as he had practiced so often.

But he did not. He allowed the void between atoms and moments and universes to swallow him whole. And he pulled Death after himself.

She did not react to the space between as most would. Rather, she stayed silent, curling in on herself, and not uttering a sound.

"I'm sorry." The words were ragged, torn from his chest like a half-sob, half-prayer.

"For what?" Death finally looked at him and he loathed himself in that instant.

There was pain in her eyes. He'd thought before that something about her seemed older than time itself, that she carried a weight far greater than the universe. And now? Now, the melancholy that tinged her eyes had bloomed into a full-on tragedy. There was sorrow etched onto her face, a sorrow greater than any he had ever felt.

But there was not hatred or loathing, and for that, he detested himself all the more.

"For—" his throat closed off on the words. He revulsed himself with the depth of his own sin. "For daring to fall in love with you."