Ok this is another writing prompt piece I did not too long ago. Hope you enjoy!

Prompt: Something long forgotten found in the attic during spring cleaning.

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It was never an easy task and Oliver always put it off till the end of his normal spring cleaning, hoping that he could push it to another occasion once again, but this year was not the case. He had planned to leave this house by winter so it was best just to get everything sorted out sooner than later. He stared across the attic space, half filled boxes and trunks scattered across the floors,most of it from his father’s younger years, long before he settled into this place. It had been not long after his parents met that they moved into this house. Many happy memories were made and stored in these boxes, but now that his parents had passed it held the faded pictures of his upbringing and the last pieces of either parent since their passing. Now with a heavy sigh Oliver started to go through the boxes closest to him, as expected they were filled with photo albums and old clothing from when he was a kid. Several of the items brought a small sad smile to his face as he looked at them. He removed those boxes noting on the side of them what they were and reminding himself whether they were to stay or go. He then moved farther into the attic to look through more boxes, these ones holding mostly junk saved for reasons unknown to him but he went through and found a handful of things that were still useful, tossing the rest out and placing the box in the pile for trash. This pattern continued for several hours as he waded through what his father had left to him. Oliver took pause as he got to the far corner of the attic staring at a trunk that looked far more expensive than the rest, it was made of dark wood with large leaves carved into it painted bright green but years of sitting in the dark and dust had dulled its colors. It’s presence made Oliver pause as he looked at it, it didn’t look like anything else his parents had kept. Upon opening it he found inside armor that seemed to belong to his father worn leather scorched slightly along its edges, a long bow the same scorch marks covering most of it the string broken long ago. His father had mentioned how he used to guide people hunting long ago. Looking deeper he found a pair of daggers nearly broken in half, a book scorched almost beyond reading, the words inside were in a language Oliver didn’t understand, a necklace with a symbol that he didn’t quite recognize and a shield with a dragon on it clawed and scorched like the rest. At the bottom was a book wrapped in old leather and as Oliver picked it up and opened it a small photo fell to the floor. Oliver picked it up, finding it to be a picture of his father and three others whose gear he realized matched the pieces in the chest. The words written on the back were in his father’s hand, it read, “The Light of the Blue Forest celebrating before they leave to take on Dragon of Calder pass.” His father never talked about his days before he met Oliver’s mother, maybe this journal held the answers as to why.

Well I tried using some writing prompts to blow off steam. Hope y'all like it.

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Prompt: Write about someone who has long since quit but decides to go another round for old time’s sake.

As he looked down at the empty beer bottle in front of him, Jonas knew this was a bad idea. He hadn’t been in this place in years, it had been their normal haunt when they had first started hunting. He was surprised the damn bar was even still standing. Between the fire that night some 10 years before and the carnage they all endured he was more than a little sad to be sat in front of the blackened mirror barely able to see his own reflection. He looked at the untouched beer to his left and was reminded once again how the memory of this place wasn’t the only thing he had lost since that night. His whole team was gone, passed in many different ways and each one leaving him more than a little sad.he reflected those deaths on the daily as he sat, god life wasn’t fair to this group.

His sister Rose had been the first to go, lying through her teeth when she told him she had things under control. The demon she had managed to send back to the pits had caused her serious injury and when he had finally reached her it was all she could do to hold on till he dropped to his knees at her side. It had broken him to plan her last rites and the others had been barely able to keep him together. After her passing they spent more time at the bar picking up almost any job that sounded like supernatural creatures at work. He never forgave himself for failing her.

Next was his best friend Sam, a building collapse that had buried him alive after they had found that cursed book. It had been almost 2 years since Rose’s death and he had felt nothing but rage as he threw that damned book into the flames and watched it burn to ashes. Sam never had a chance, the paramedics said he had been impaled at least twice through the lung, he’d have bled out even if they had gotten to him. The bar felt darker when they returned the next time. The other members went as far as to suggest Jonas stop hunting and take time to grieve. He brushed the concern off, stating that it wouldn’t help to sit idly while they went into danger. There were only 3 of them anyways so they needed to stick together.

Morgan’s death was something much worse than the others, finding out your dying is often something that destroys a person mentally before the disease can do so physically. Morgan never let it show how shaken She really was. In fact she let it carry her into hunting for longer than Jonas had thought. It was only when treatment stopped helping and she was hospitalized that she finally stopped field work. He had sat with her and Cameron as she took her last breath. Druidic rites were used to bring her hopefully to peace. Jonas felt those days drag by ever slower as he and Cameron were left as the only standing members.

It was what should have been a very careless hunt that led Cameron to the grave. He had been bitten by a vampire due to Jonas not noticing its approach. Jonas had lost the damn thing underground shortly after that. Cameron knew the chances of holding out were slim, the wound in his neck was too deep to fix even if they killed the thing, and being turned was something Cameron could not face. He had seen what that kind of hunger could do to innocent people, so he asked Jonas to make sure it never happened. Cameron bled out beside him a few minutes later and Jonas staked him through the heart to make sure he stayed dead. A final wish for his last friend. 

So now after 10 years he sat at the place that used to be their bar. Thinking back on his old friends and how he missed them. Hoping one last visit for old times sake would soothe his battered soul and maybe give him one last chance to feel that old passion come back, even if it was only for one night. Movement in the blackened mirror caught his attention as he straightened, one more hunt for one last member of the team. He turned as the monster lept for him, the sounds of gunshots echoing in the night air as claws connected with flesh and silvered blessed bullets tore through fur and muscle with little resistance.

 Quiet blanketed the area, looking in from the street most would see the corpse of some wild animal they couldn’t really recognize. Its body looked strange and completely unique. And there slumped against the bar a man clad in dark clothing, gashes raked along his chest and throat, a gun in his hand and the smallest hint of a smile on his face. On the counter sits 2 beer bottles, one empty and one untouched, leaned against the untouched bottle is an old leather journal, on the first page is written “The monster hunter’s guide to death, both our own and that of the monsters we protect this world from. Accounts written by Jonas and Rose Vorrelis, recorded from their time hunting with a team. Hopefully it will make your lives longer than ours were.” And as the sunlight creeps into this burnt out bar where a final stand between the waking world and the living nightmares has taken place perhaps for the hunter there is finally peace in a lifetime of loss.

I swear every time I come on here to check my notes it's like 90% porn blogs that have followed me. So I go through and block but god damn come on! Isn't there anyway that they could be caught sooner? A bunch of them are so obvious!

Okay i have been hunting on this app for ages trying to figure how to disable the vibration for my notifications without turning them off. I scoured google and found several wrong answers. Turns out its under sound instead of notifications. Why? Why was this so hard to find?

Ok so I have been thinking about making some slenderman mochi plushes if anyone is interested. I also plan to make ones based on other cryptids or creepypastas if O can make working patterns. Anyone interested? Just seeing if there is a want for them. Also have an Undyne I also made.