#munasnook

I need to find my voice again; my creativity has gotten in the way of my productivity, and that's no way I want to live.

Going to try and do 10 minute one shot quick writes without any backspace, revision, or criticism!

My story when I start writing:

World Building One Shot

Hi friends! This is a one shot I just did for some world building. This was supposed to be a super small easy light hearted project but somehow I got carried away and it turned into this. 💙

World Building for Faelin and Manu:

This is in a magical world where some people posses the ability to feel and control Rakka, a magical essence similar to Mako in Final Fantasy. This magical essence can be seen and controlled by some individuals who either:

- Come from a bloodline descending from a people whose blood was filled with more Rakka than other humans. (Vaali)

- Are individuals that Rakka seemingly manifested in randomly. (Kariku)

- Had it gifted by the earth itself, usually through a strong act in service to the earth, balance, or harmony. (Vakkerin)

Vaali: This is a people who are said to have descended from the first people of the earth. They were born from the oceans, spreading out across the land. Their paths across the region left many rivers, and their tenderness for the animals created rich forests. There’s many stories about how the Vaali could communicate, influence, and become one with the spirits of the forest and river. Pure Vaali are totally extinct, and are now (to some) considered a mere myth, despite Vaali bloodlines having Rakka every few generations.

Kariku: Around every century, a small group of Kariku emerge. No one really understands why or how they are born with Rakka, but it isn’t always apparent until adolescence. There has only been one rare instance where a Kariku was able to control and use the Rakka since birth.

Vakkerin: These are people who have done a great service to the forest, rivers, spirits, and earth. They have been given the ability to channel their devotion and love for the earth into understanding Rakka, and are trained by the spirits to learn how to use it. Being given Rakka is uncommon and considered one of the highest honors. A ritual is held when one has shown their love and proves their loyalty to receive this gift. This ritual and the act of gaining Rakka is considered a rebirth.

Juma (YOO-mah)

Juma is an ancient planet and is the closest planet to the moon in their solar system, Kuuhan. (KOO-ahn) Stories from the Vaali tell that Kuuhan was the heart of the Juma, ripped out of the planet by the sun.

Juma has been one of the lushest planets in the galaxy, until a small group of aliens settled long, long ago. Juma was welcoming, but the aliens did not find her hospitality enough. They took Juma as their own, as they sought out a new planet due to the destruction they have dealt on their own. They domesticated or ate the animals rather than befriending them, stripping down the forests for their greed, and disrespected the spirits, warding them off with their own curses. They became known among the Vaali as Rakksa.

The Vaali did their best to avoid war with the Rakksa, but this didn’t last long. The Vaali tried to speak with the Raaksa, to know them, their language, and their home. The Vaali thought maybe it was possible to befriend the Raaksa, and invite them to live with Juma and the blessings of this world. But the Raaksa didn’t want to live on Juma for love and harmony, their love and values still rested on those they had in their old home: Resources. Riches. Renown.

The Vaali held hope for a few more years that the Rakksa would grow homesick. The Vaali couldn’t imagine what life could ever be if it wasn’t Juma, it would be only natural that the Rakksa would return home as well; damaged as it was, it’s still home. But the Rakksa only grew in numbers. They would bring loud ships that exhumed stink, thick air, and crushed whatever laid beneath it. The Vaali’s hope were crushed when the Rakksa began dumping waste and toxins into the rivers, the soil, and burning the tree flesh. They stabbed the mountains, dismembered the earth, and cast dark fumes into the sky.

Juma couldn’t take this anymore. She ached, and her people could not stop the Raaksa. Juma began to cry. Water turned to fire, burning the Rakksa as they bathed and drank. Shards of crystals and space rock shot down from the sky, piercing the Rakksa’s heaviest ships and domes. Vines and stalks communed with ivy, and spat poison onto the Rakksa, entangling them with their arms. The earth crumbled beneath Rakksa settlements, creating caverns that filled with fire water.

The spirits retreated far into the earth to find safety from the slaughter, knowing they’d be protected and safe in Juma’s stomach, taking the Vaali with them.

Juma was still hurt. She was hurt from the destruction of the Rakksa, and the destruction she caused because of them. Juma felt betrayed, by the universe, and by herself. Juma cried again, but was no longer angry. Her tears filled the caverns, solidifying pools of her fire tears into solid black rock. Her tears washed the poison off the skin of the Rakksa’s corpses. Water fell from the cracks of the mountains, filling up the holes in the earth. Juma cried for days.

When Juma could cry no more, she finally looked at herself. The world was rid of the Raaksa’s dirt, but their presence and destruction was undoable. Juma tried to rid herself of their hate. If it were not for the spirits and the Vaali resting in her stomach, she may have destroyed herself. She released her children back into their world, but they could feel her grief and see her destruction all around them.

The Vaali got to work, picking up after Juma. They tried to call some of the spirits out of Juma’s stomach, but many did not want to return to see the remains of what was home. The Vaali and woken spirits worked hard every day to clean and heal Juma, as she loved and cared for them for all of their lives, and will continue to beyond what’s known.

Some Vaali found the remains of the Raaksa’s tools and knowledge, and were turned by their curious nature. This caused another conflict on Juma; the Vaali who were devoted to Juma, and the Vaali who now held ideas for a future like the Rakksa.

If you read this far, hello! Thanks! 💙

I didn’t finish it but I met 1k words for today and I started to get too hooked on small details. I’ll probably come back to it, since there’s a few details that I think need some changing. But let me know what you think!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Hello!

Hi there, I wasn’t sure what to do for my first post so I thought I’d make a quick get to know me! .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚

𖥔 Muna, 20, she/he, WLW, Aquarius, INTP

𖥔 What’s this blog? I’m prone to procrastination, but I have so many projects and ideas I’ve been avoiding for a few years. I’d like to write games, write and illustrate my own comics, make better campaigns for my D&D party, and write some short stories/novels!

𖥔 Hobbies/Interests? Recently I’ve been really into BG3, but I like playing Skyrim, Resident Evil, and SoulsBorne games too! I’m currently replaying Fable, it’s very nostalgic for me. I like to read, my favorite author is Dostoevsky. I’m currently trying to read more fantasy rather than philosophy, as that’s that I’d like to write!

𖥔 Favorite animal? I love cats! I have 2 black cats. But I love squid, jellyfish and bears too!

𖥔 Favorite music? Some of my favorite bands are The Cure, Radiohead, and recently I’ve been listening to a lot of Daft Punk, Björk, and gulu gulu!

𖥔 Favorite movies? My favorite movies are both Bladerunner movies, Interstellar, Pan’s Labyrinth, Stalker, Coraline, and LOTR!

𖥔 Favorite books? Brothers Karamazov, The Vampire of Cuttleburn, and as of recently, The Poppy War! I just started Vinland Saga as well, and I like it a lot so far!

𖥔 Favorite comics? Paper Girls, Ultra Mega, Attack on Titan, and Bungo Stray Dogs. My favorite webcomic on webtoon right now is Nevermore and Deep Sea!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

𖥔 Feel free to say hi, I’m looking for a community to post some of my work to get feedback and get over my fear of sharing my writing! I’d also love to see your stuff as well! And thanks so much for reading! 🪼💙

For wlw webcomic script:

1. Mushroom cottagecore happy lesbians like frog and toad but they are mushrooms in a forest by a river.

But could they also be sprites? Fairies? Bunnies? Sprites or fairies that live in mushrooms would be cute. We’ll see after I make a few sketches…

2. Happy cottagecore witches who care for their garden and live in a cottage in beautiful magical woods

Ah, so peaceful…

3. 2 druids (or one Druid and one… I don’t know) go on a journey together

Hm. Cute, fun, bigger ideas as this is the only one with a main goal / plot in mind rather than episodes with small conflict. Might go into that.

Short story from a few years ago, unedited. (AKA, Try Not To Cringe Challenge for Muna)

It is dark and damp, and smells like a distant memory. As I slowly reconnect with my senses, I come to the unpleasant realization that my mouth is filled with dirt. A sour taste, with hints of blood, grits of gravel between my teeth. I attempt to spit the taste out, and to my disgust, my spit falls down and drips down my chin. The feeling of grime and my own mucus dripping down my neck makes me shudder, I’d rather smell a crow’s blood. I do not know how long I have slept, nor do I understand how I recognize that I have woken here before. As my eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, I realize my face is met with a dirt wall. Worms wrangle through cracks between the gravel, immediately associating this image with a spoonful of intestines fed into my mouth, I press my lips together, attempting to replace this dream with something more pleasant. A tart, maybe. Sweet blood dripping from full lips.

The wall pushes towards me, gravel crumbles into my eyes. I cannot stand this pit much longer, a possible fortune awaits me behind this wall. I reach for my pistol in my boot, the only one that stays with me, even through death. Each movement I make rewards me with a pang, as if all my muscles have been torn, and each inch of my body is kissed with bruises. Elbows bumping into the walls around me sends me into a slight panic. Though I’ve lived in worse conditions, it’s as if this place was meant to welcome me with every bit of discomfort.

I wrap my fingers around the handle. The trigger is so cold it nearly burns me.

I aim the barrel to the wall, take in one breath and bite down on my cheek, and take 4 shots at the wall.
I fall face first, my mouth is met with dry redgrass and mud. It reeks out here, even worse than the underground. One foot still in the grave, I close my eyes before I must travel through this dream again.

When I open my eyes again, I see nothing but two large green eyes and the blurred shape of a nose. I blink a few times, and a few more when she exhales. I adjust myself, propping myself up on my elbow. Red lips peek through gaps of blond hair, clumps of dirt, mud, and blood clinging on.

“I think the hat suits you best,” I say. She pauses before glancing up to the top of my head.

“I could say the same for you; you would need more than moss than that to keep the top of your head dry here.” I brush the top of my head with my free hand, a few more times just for measure, moss tumbles down my back. Her green eyes set on mine again.

She rolls onto her back, stretching her arms out. The moonlight highlights each of her features. So delicate and smooth, sculpted. She looks as if she was carved out of moonstone. Perfect. Her eyes don’t even shrink when she looks directly at the moon, it seems like they might even grow.

“Tonight it is clear. Tomorrow, though... well. Who is to say? I can smell another storm, you know.”

“Worse than before?”

She pauses for a moment before turning her head to me again. As she does, her hair collects more mud. I can’t help but cringe a little when I hear it squelching, almost as if I can feel the cold mud and bugs crawling onto my own scalp.

“Who’s to say, hunter... maybe if you find your horse, we might have a chance to escape. What are we without our hats?”

“What do you mean?” Her face freezes, in a calm surprise. She props her head up on her fist and looks at me with her huge eyes. I can see my reflection in them.

“Have you lost your head again?”
“I don’t understand your meaning.”
“Louis, every morning you wake, decades have passed in the night. Why must you forget every sleep?”

I began my search.
The swan beckoned me. The swinging of its tail disrupted the peace in the water. A shame a creature so beautiful must cause so much suffering.


A song broke from the mountain, echoing to the bottom of the canyon. The voices of each stream in the land screamed its own testimony as it fell to the mirror below. The avalanche erupted in the water beneath the mirror. Thousands of feathers burst from the impact, a chorus sprung from the death of a landmark. Needles of ice sprung out, ripping my skin slightly, exposing myself to the cold air.

Though the mirror is long gone, I can still see myself in the pool’s reflection, through the eyes of Sonya. I drag myself towards her, waiting for her reach. I am crushed by the relentless power of the fall, so cold it burns, pressure enough to melt off my flesh. My eyes begin to cloud with the light of heaven, and the walls that once stared down at me began to close its eyes, wrapping its arms around its self, to become nothing but its own memory. Layers of my skin begin to slidel away from my bone, i have never understood the origin of my purple cloth until now. The water around me begins to mix my lost flesh and draining blood into its own creation, I swallow the last breath of sunlight; I may rest on my death’s eve. The last ring of her voice wraps around my heart, before I am devoured by the fall. without asking, I know her name. I know she feels the same. We have both awakened again, in this dream we can not explain.

I pull myself off the ground, dust off what dirt I can. Sonya’s gaze does not change slightly, rested in the same spot as if I were still there. I slip my gun back into its slinger, a second nature. In three days, I will be free.

The swan beckoned me .I followed, the softly bent neck and elegant mannar it drifts. A creature, that of destruction. I found the swan on land, between a small opening in an undergrowth. Their eyes used to haunt me, I seek them for guidance now. I follow it to water.

I cannot tell if I am horrified or amazed when Sonya sinks into the swan’s neck. I can hear it’s flesh ripping, and it’s bones crunching under her teeth. Her eyes flutter shut, and her tongue dances round the swan’s wound as it struggles.

Writing ideas/first draft of a Halloween session for my party where they fall into a cursed chasm full of slime, undead, and an unfathomable horror…

A strange clicking sound echos off the slick, pale stone walls. Click click… click click… The air is heavy and damp, your breathing becomes manual. The liquid surrounding you has a strange consistency; jelly-like and metallic, green in color. It’s freezing down here, every sound made echos three, four, five… seven times back to you. The odor is sickening; an overwhelming stink of rot, flesh, and other describable things make you want to vomit. A small hissing and bubbling sound can be heard all around you. Moss and vines hang down only towards the very top of the chasm walls.

As you peer closer into the slow, creeping liquid, you see large shadows reflecting from the bottom of the floor. You realize these shadows are giant bugs. What kind of bugs, you cannot tell.

A cold breeze gusts through, wooshing and whipping your hair all over your face. The snapping of your hair against your cold-numbed face stings. You can hear the wind spiraling through the chasm, bouncing off every wall and rock. The green liquid doesn’t budge against the will of the wind.

Above, you see the first star of the night. It will only grow colder the longer you stay here. With no way up, the only way to move is forward.

As you make your first step, the liquid seems to cling to your shoes and pants for a moment. Somehow it feels… weighted. Your only source of light is the moon, now. Full and bright. You begin to feel lightheaded, the stench no longer burns your nose or churns your stomach.

You keep sludging forward, finding what clear rocks you can find to stand on along the way. Is it just your head, or has the clicking changed to chittering? Could just be some singing bugs. But how do they sound so close? The reflections of the stars gleam brighter in the water, and soon all you can hear bouncing off the walls is nonstop chittering and… clacking?

Click click… chtchtcht… clack.. clack…

The pair stars in the pool beneath your feet rise up and meet your eyes, and you only have a moment to prepare yourself to fight. Armor glistens, swords sparkle, and the cries of the undead echo off the walls and hammer into your skull.

Roll for initiative.

End

I’m a first time DM and all of my players are also playing for the first time! I’ve been a player in a homebrew campaign for about 5 sessions, so I don’t have much experience either! This is also 100% freewrite/first draft, but I wanted something to get me back into writing.

This will be the opening to the session, which will be a Halloween episode for my party! I’m currently working out how to sort of fit it into the campaign to qualify it cannon! I’m currently trying to think of lore for this place, but I’m sure I don’t need to obsess about it so much for one session.