DaWhackbot

I write some fun stuff sometimes!

Here be an account where I post stories I write, post OCs cuz I like them, and like an rt some stuff. Keep in mind - there will be NSFW so be warned.

posts from @DaWhackbot tagged #whackbot

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DaWhackbot
@DaWhackbot

"...Come again? "

"You heard me clearly, Mortal. Release me."

"Release YOU?!" Parroted the man as he points the barrel of a shotgun at the Monster he had just caught. "Sorry buddy - No can do after what you did to them cows."

In it's barb-wired prison, the quadrupedal, white-furred, 6-eyed thing snarled at its captor.

"You kill others for merely sustaining themselves? Damnable ape, may you burn slowly!"

The gunpowder explosion of the warning shot caused the white beast to hiss and shake in shock, making the wire slice in the skin. The chocolate skinned man tips his hat with the smoking barrel of his shotgun to reveal golden eyes glaring at the captured beast.

"That’s Marcus DuBois to you, bitch,” the man corrected as he pointed his shotgun back at the six-eyed quadruped monster. “...And you call seven months of leaving half-eaten cow carcasses around the state sustaining? If ya gonna eat something, at least have the decency to not leave your scraps all across the state!"

The creature’s hiss was filled with spite and anger, but Marcus could see that the grinning face of this chupacabra-esque creature, misplaced in Waycross, Georgia, bespoke of a deeper intelligence.

“...If you release me, I can make it worth your while.”

“Uh, can ya be specific on that? Cuz I ain’t gettin’ head from something that’s on four legs.”

“Stupid A-!!...M-Marcus Dubois, you hunt for a living. I can help you, you know.”

To that proposal, his eyebrows rose like fireworks on Fourth of July. That grinning, bleeding beast must have spied on him to know that this is his profession. Usually, such a thing would give a monster a french kiss from his shotgun, but this was the first monster to offer a deal than plead for its life…

“...A’ight, bet. What are ya offerin’?”

As Marcus relaxed his aim, so too did the beast. The growling turned into a relieved trill.

“I can help you hunt…You’ve seen my work-”

“Yeah,” Marcus interrupted. “Half-Assed work. Keep talking.”

“STILL, I am hard to track. Let me live, and I can lead you to other beasts! You benefit from my life!”

The beast raised its head, fighting against the pain of the barbs sinking into its neck. Clearly, it was hopeful for another chance of life.

“What, and get mauled ‘cuz you can’t eat all that you can catch?! Come on, man…”

The smile seemed to strain on the beast’s face. “My metabolism differs from yours! Not only that, but I can alert you to dangers before you-”

“Cap.”

The interruption caused the beast to stutter and pause, looking toward the disinterested Hunter in hopes of a translation. Noting the beast’s eyes, Marcus sighed in exasperation. “Yeah, that’s false, my guy. If I wasn’t aware of any danger, we wouldn’t be havin’ this conversation. You’d have ripped my throat out by now, right? Look,” Marcus pulls open his coat to show off the trophies of felled beasts - claws, teeth, and even a Heart - dangling before the Beast’s eyes. “I’ve been doing this a long time, fam. I doubt I need a huntin’ hound.”

A low hiss could be heard. The trained eye of DuBois could tell it was from pain; the Beast’s muscles were bulging with tension now. He had a good hunch about what was stressing about.

“T-Then,” stammered the Beast, “I can steal for you! My eating habits will diminish, and I will find you riches beyond your…w-why are you laughing?!”

Indeed, Marcus was chuckling at the best joke he had heard in months. “Bro, I’m a MONSTER HUNTER. I’m already loaded!”

The Beast’s stomach rose and fell rapidly as negotiations were slowly shattering around its very eyes. Its gnarled claws scratched on the ground as its body began to wrench and jerk, reviving the fight against the painful, stabbing, metal rope.

“You don’t understand, Human Marcus!! I’ve seen what you’re capable of, but you have yet to see ME! I…I can be of great use to y-AGHK!!”

The taste of silver and gunpowder stopped the Beast from speaking any further. All of its eyes looked up at the Human, fear and hatred evident in those slit eyes.

“You know,” Marcus smiled, pushing the barrel down on the Beast’s tongue. “A lot of you creatures find a way to beg n’ cry for a way out. It got old konda fast, but you’re really tryin’ your ass off. So how about a deal?” That smile curled to a grin, forcing the Beast to look upon a truly frightening smile.

“You keep talking, and IF I hear a good deal, you don’t get shot. Time’s tickin’, man. Better drum up some good ones before my finger itches…”



build-a-bot
@build-a-bot

A robot who was obsolete before it was even constructed.


DaWhackbot
@DaWhackbot

“You, Xen, are my Magnum Opus”.

That is what my Creator, Sir Anders, said. As a Personal Assistant android, I took care of all of Sir Anders’ needs. Given his age, my existence was almost mandatory for him to get through the day. I understood my purpose to Sir Anders, but not his methods. Compared to other PA’s, I’m little more than a functioning human.

By the time I was activated, the term ‘Personal Assistance’ became synonymous with robotic aid. Some are androids like I am, but with bodies that can withstand months of punishment while I still need daily maintenance. Nanotechnology is about to make a breakthrough in repairing lost eyesight, and the only aid I offer Sir Anders’ ailing body was rudimentary: Transporting him on his wheelchair, cooking his meals, and keeping him company as he read the ancient literature of the year 2029. Sir Anders was always grateful for my presence but compared to the evolving PA units, who's been curing the disabled with relative ease, my efficiency as an assistant is a non-factor.

Despite this, Sir Anders did not opt for a single one of those other Personal Assistants. Even when I tried to barter with him to replace me with a newer PA model for his declining Health, he refused. “Life is an experience, Xen,” I remember him saying on his bed, eyes staring wistfully at nothing. “It’s the quality of your years, not the number, that makes life worth living.” Such words were incomprehensible to me. Sir Anders was dying of lung cancer, and I knew that he was in agony so long as he drew breath. Neither machine nor medicine were acceptable for Sir Anders; no matter what I said, his mind had long been made.

“You, Xen, are my Magnum Opus. Mountains will rise and fall. Trees will be born and unborn. My name will be forgotten, and when that time comes you will forge your own legacy.”

To this day, I’ll never forget Sir Anders’ final moments. The feeling of his frail hands fighting tooth and nail to caress my face. The look of serenity in his eyes. The smile on his face when he passed in his sleep. All I could do was watch as he slowly drifted away.

Hundreds of medical procedures were processed in my head. I was ready to do anything to save my creator’s life. Sadly, every iteration of saving Sir Anders was mer with low chances of success. As an android, I cannot move to make drastic options. I could not make a miracle happen.

“You, Xen, are my Magnum Opus.”

Years have gone by since his Death, and ‘Personal Assistance’ machines have merged into the field of cybernetic enhancement. There was no need for a simple assistant android when cosmetic surgery ensured a longer, stronger life. The line of PA androids were discontinued, and eventually I’ll be the last one left.

I never understood why Sir Anders regarded me so highly. Magnum Opus…Why did he see me as a Renaissance among an endless plateau of progress? Will others think the same? Can I even live up to Sir Anders’ dreams? I can never find the answer to this endless maze of cryptic praise, and yet I continue to walk the Earth, unchanged as the world grows around me. Until I find that exit called Truth, I’ll continue forward in the body Sir Anders created.

His Magnum Opus.



Deacon's captured. With no savior in sight, he has moments before he's mutilated, and used as bait for his Father to save him. With no one else to turn to, Deacon calls to his God Tlalocoatl for aid, and finds that his Faith pays in dividends! With new powers bestowed upon him, he now has to confront the looming threat of this mad Captain Rook before his plans come into fruition!

A continuation of Deacon's Crescent Tail story.

art by jijisama
Can be Read here, FA or AO3