Who Knows - Blog Posts
I don't recommend deleting everything you've done but I do recommend privating posts instead or making them unrebloggable.
Just in case you want to look back at them.
I privated pretty much all of my work and deleted any and all reblogs talking about wilbur for now. Even if things do get cleared up, I most likely won't go back to writing about him since my hyper-fixation died out a while ago. I appreciate the advice, though!
7-year-old cTommy not understanding why his father and older brother leave for prolonged periods of time. It used to be two to three weeks, but as cTechno grew older, the longer it took for Tommy to be able to see his favorite brother. And unfortunately for him, no one told him about the voices that plagued Techno’s mind at all hours of the day.
They’re home once more, Phil shooing off Tommy outside for peace and quiet, and Techno giving him small trinkets he picked up, along with a promise to let Tommy braid his hair later. Tommy, being the good little brother he is, goes to pick his brother’s favorite flowers, only to come back to Techno a snarling mess, lashing out at anyone who comes near him.
Tommy doesn’t understand what’s going on nor why his father and other brother are looking at Techno like a monster; all he sees is his big brother in pain and confusion. He approaches slowly, flowers held out with a shaky smile, and Techno looks at him, slowly reaching his hand out.
The tear of flesh like paper, and Tommy is screaming whether from the pain of the wound or being yanked back so violently away from Techno. Techno, blinking in confusion, looks down to the blood now coating his hand and then to his injured little brother struggling to get back to him.
Phil and Techno are gone the next morning.
-It wasn’t until Pogtopia that Tommy saw Techno again, leaning against the man’s shoulder as he spoke of the places he went, the things he learned. How somehow the blood of his sounder is able to pull him back, not quite distinguish the voices, but calms them. It’s quiet after that, Tommy telling Techno it was never his fault and he never blamed him. Techno holds him closer but doesn’t answer.
-It’s exile and for some reason Techno was helping Tommy, though he had no reason to. His brother doesn’t care, he knows this, yet he loves Techno too much to let him go as easily as he was. It slipped out by accident, what Dream did, how he deserved it, the meaning of the Tower Techno had found him beside. And for some reason that made Techno angry, and Tommy could see how quickly he was losing himself.
It shouldn’t work, Techno didn’t think of him as family anymore, but it was worth a try. Digging his nails into arm, he breaks open the stitches, letting the blood run freely. And it worked. He could see the cloudiness leaving Techno’s eyes, how he rushed over to Tommy’s side.
Techno was flinging insults at him, but Tommy couldn’t care less. Techno still thought of him as a brother, he still loved him. Tommy went to sleep that night with a smile on his face and a weight lifted off his shoulders.
-Tommy had fucked up big time. He probably should have gotten Phil, but he just had to play the hero. He had never seen Techno so bad before, even the blood from the wound in Tommy’s shoulder hardly phased him. Maybe it was because their bond was so frayed Techno needed more.
So, he provoked him. As Techno attacked, he met him halfway. Despite the sword that was ran through him, the snow turning pink under his feet, he threw his arms around Techno’s neck, pulling his face down so their foreheads touched and their eyes met.
It wasn’t working. Still, Tommy muttered reassurances to him. To come back to him, fight it, that he was stronger than this. To not be afraid because his little brother was there to make it all better like always. That ‘I love you, Techie.’
But Techno didn’t love him enough anymore for the voices to be quelled. And that was okay, Tommy understood. At least he tried, one last time. With that thought, he let himself fall.
-It was cold when Techno woke up. He had gotten angry, he wasn’t even sure for, but he didn’t want help this time. He wanted to feel blood on his hands and he didn’t care whose it was. But now he needed to get home. He needed…Tommy. The boy’s name was nothing more than a whisper on his lips. His baby brother, his runt, his family, looking so small curled up like that, almost as if he was asleep and Techno could pick him up and tuck him under the covers.
But he knew what death looked like. Especially when he was the one that caused it. Techno could fight a thousand men in one go to protect his little brother, but this, this was a battle Techno couldn’t win. This time, Techno couldn’t be the hero in Tommy’s story.
And for the first time in his life, the voices where completely silent.
My Fellow Tarnished I still don't know how to bloody use this App so forgive me if I maketh a mistake! But consider mayhaps to check out my Tarnished x Messmer Slowburn Fanfic on Ao3
Hear Ye! Hear Ye! Its is a truly a work that I'm proud of! And It is still in continuation
https://archiveofourown.org/works/59368852/chapters/151410670
I would love to see Ye thoughts on it and expectations! But for now have this! *throws badly drawn Messmer and runs away to write chapter 8*
Needless to say, I followed the wax like will of the wisps and immediately lost all my light.
Eons ago, there was a Great Nothing. Empty, suffocating, ever-hungry Nothing. It was alone in its non-existence, and slowly, the Nothing realized that there was Something—a feeling. The Nothing was Lonely.
And so, it wept.
In its weeping, it Created. Slowly, one by one, the Nothing created stars—twinkling, glittering, warm little stars. The stars comforted the Nothing, humming it to deep, comforting sleep.
Well, the stars shimmered, we have been given a gift of existence.
Should we, perhaps, the stars wondered, give a gift back?
And so, the stars got to work.
---
This was the story of creation, and it was one the child had heard many, many times before. “I don’t see what this has to do with anything.” They huffed, impatient, and the man rested a hand on their head. “It has many things to do with everything.” He started, but before he could continue, the child gave him a quizzical look. “But right now?”
The man smiled, and hoisted his weapon. “Especially right now.”
When the Great Nothing awoke, it was to the sight of many more Somethings than it had made. The stars had given their gift—the gift of life—and remolded it, creating more Somethings to keep the Nothing company.
Upon seeing this, the Nothing once again wept—but found a different Something to be the cause.
Joy.
---
The stars were not the only ones to whom the act of Creating was passed on to, however. Even so, the ability became watered down, with each Creation having less of the ability than that who Created it. Eventually, it was lost to every Creation, save for a select few, blessed by the Nothing itself.
The man was not one of those few. The child was, however. To an extent, anyway—the powers it contained were limited and corrupted, but not by its own hand.
---
In its Joy, the Great Nothing embraced a star—and, in its careless Joy, the Great Nothing snuffed it out. The rest of the stars shrunk away, understanding something new—for this Great Nothing, Creation came easily…
…and Destruction came even easier, even if it did not mean to do so.
---
Not everything was grateful for the gift given to them—some resented the Great Nothing for attempting to end its loneliness. The man was one—the child was not, although it pretended to be, for the sake of survival.
There were not many of the same kind as the man and the child, and the Creations left were dying, slowly.
---
Try as it might, the Great Nothing found that no matter what it did, its Creations still shrunk away from its touch in fear. Soon, the Nothing found that there was a worse kind of Loneliness than being truly Alone. Each attempt to make amends ended poorly, earning the Nothing nothing but Fear in return.
It began to resent the things it had Created.
---
The Great Nothing, itself, is collapsing in despair, the man had said before. We can end its pain.
The child did not believe the Great Nothing would want such a thing, but had no choice in the matter—it learned that long ago.
You must assist me in this, or the Great Nothing will not bless you as it blesses me, the man had said. I cannot move on without you.
The child did not believe it wanted such a thing.
---
And so, the Great Nothing, in its newfound Fury, Created once more—but these Creations were twisted, gifted the ability to Destroy, rather than Create.
Some feel that it is a good thing that the stars put a stop to its Madness, even if it meant that they must do what drove the Great Nothing to Madness to begin with.
---
The man and the child had started out on this journey together.
They did not make it to the end together.
---
And so, the Great Nothing was locked away by the stars, forced to sleep once more, consciousness contained in a small cube, and cast aside.
And so, the Great, sleeping Nothing fell for an eternity.
---
The child kneeled before a wall, darker than the darkness itself, and wept.
“I am sorry.” It said. “I am sorry.”
And so, the child plunged its weapon into the heart of the darkness.
---
When the Great Nothing awoke, it was to yet another new sensation—Pain. Is this, it wondered, what the star felt when it was Destroyed?
There was another Something here—a very small Something. It was weeping apologies, and the Great Nothing felt sorry. It, too, was blessed—it, too, was cursed—it, too, was given too heavy a burden to bear. It, too, had the ability to Destroy. It, too, was deeply Lonely in ways the Nothing understood.
---
It is alright.
The words echoed in the child’s mind, and the cold, forgiving, Great Nothing embraced the child. I, too, am sorry.
And so, the Great Nothing died.
And so, all the Great Nothing’s creations died with it.
Well.
Almost all of them.
---
It was cold. Suffocatingly cold. What had happened? The child remembered finding the cube—so big it was more like a wall. The child remembered doing what the man said it must.
And then?
And then… nothing. The child was floating in darkness.
The child was alone, it realized, and a Loneliness greater than what it had felt with the man began to rise.
And so it wept.
And in its weeping, it Created.
Creating Fear in Your Characters: A Writers Guide
Creating authentic emotions is vital for immersive storytelling, which is why I decided to make this series on how to write different emotions. After exploring rage, and sadness it's now time to delve into fear!
Fear is a powerful emotion that can manifest in various ways, from subtle apprehension to paralyzing terror. Here's a guide on how to write fear effectively, covering different aspects of your characters' behavior and reactions.
Facial Expressions
Fear often manifests first in facial expressions, conveying the initial shock or unease. Describe these expressions to immerse readers in your character's emotional state:
Widened Eyes and Dilated Pupils: Show the eyes widening in response to a sudden threat, with dilated pupils indicating heightened alertness.
Tense Jaw and Clenched Teeth: Mention the clenching of jaw muscles or teeth, signaling internalized stress or anxiety.
Furrowed Brow and Raised Eyebrows: Describe the furrowing of the forehead and raised eyebrows, revealing worry or confusion.
Quivering Lips or Lip Biting: Note subtle lip movements like quivering or biting, reflecting nervousness or fear.
Frozen or Stiff Facial Muscles: Highlight moments of fear-induced immobility, where facial muscles become tense and rigid.
Body Language and Gestures
Fear can also be expressed through body language and gestures, showcasing your character's instinctual responses to danger or threat:
Backing Away or Recoiling: Describe your character instinctively moving backward or recoiling from the source of fear, signaling a desire to retreat.
Raised Shoulders and Tensed Posture: Show how fear causes the shoulders to rise and the body to tense up, indicating readiness for fight or flight.
Trembling Hands or Shaking Limbs: Mention the trembling of hands or shaking of limbs, reflecting nervousness or anxiety.
Covering Vulnerable Areas: Describe your character instinctively covering vulnerable areas like their neck or torso, symbolizing a protective gesture.
Fidgeting or Restlessness: Note any fidgeting or restlessness, such as tapping feet or wringing hands, as signs of inner turmoil and fear.
Vocal Cues and Dialogue
Fear can alter vocal cues and dialogue, affecting how your character speaks and communicates their emotions:
Quavering Voice or Shaky Speech: Describe the voice quivering or becoming shaky, indicating nervousness or fear.
Rapid Breathing and Gasping: Mention rapid breathing or gasping for air, showcasing the physical impact of fear on the respiratory system.
Stammering or Hesitant Speech: Note any stammering or hesitant speech patterns, reflecting the character's struggle to articulate their thoughts coherently.
Sudden Silence or Lack of Verbal Response: Show moments of sudden silence or the inability to respond verbally, highlighting the overwhelming nature of fear.
Repetitive Phrases or Vocalizations: Describe repetitive phrases or vocalizations, such as muttering prayers or chanting reassurances, as coping mechanisms in fearful situations.
Reactions and Physical Responses
Fear triggers various physical responses in your characters, showcasing the body's instinctual reactions to perceived threats:
Increased Heart Rate and Sweating: Mention the character's heart rate increasing and sweating profusely, reflecting heightened physiological arousal.
Dilated Pupils and Heightened Senses: Describe dilated pupils and heightened sensory perception, as the character's senses become more attuned to potential dangers.
Muscle Tension and Rigidity: Note muscle tension and rigidity, as the body prepares for action or defense in response to fear.
Nausea or Stomach Churning: Show how fear can lead to feelings of nausea or stomach churning, as the body's stress response impacts digestive functions.
Fight, Flight, or Freeze Response: Highlight the character's instinctual response to fear, whether it's a readiness to fight, a desire to flee, or a state of frozen immobility.
Types of Fear and Emotional Depth
Different types of fear can evoke varying emotional responses in your characters, adding depth to their portrayal and the narrative:
Startle Fear: Describe the sudden, reflexive fear triggered by unexpected events or loud noises, leading to a quick, intense reaction.
Apprehensive Fear: Show the lingering sense of unease or dread that accompanies anticipated threats or impending danger, heightening tension over time.
Terror: Depict the overwhelming, paralyzing fear that arises from extreme danger or horrifying experiences, impacting the character's ability to think or act rationally.
Phobias: Explore specific phobias that trigger irrational and intense fear responses, shaping how your character navigates their environment and interactions.
Trauma-Induced Fear: Address fear resulting from past traumas or experiences, influencing the character's behavior and emotional resilience in present situations.
Verbs and Adjectives for Writing Fear
Here's a list of verbs and adjectives to help you convey fear effectively in your writing:
Verbs: tremble, cower, gasp, quiver, shrink, freeze, recoil, sweat, pant, gulp, shudder
Adjectives: terrified, anxious, alarmed, horrified, shaken, jittery, panicked, petrified
not really Yandere but just thoughts about being the third Haitani sibling <3
(reader is more masculine and the word brother is used, other than that it’s pretty gender neutral)
Warnings: drinking?
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
It’s not everyday that you get off work early, being an executive means you get held over late into the early morning. But when Mikey lets you turn in early, you decide to go drinking with your brothers.
Walking into the dim bar, you’re already bickering with Rindou, saying that you could down more shots than him; to which the younger Haitani quickly challenges. Soon enough you're halfway passed out in your chair and Rindou’s trying to pick a fight with the guy in another booth over the stupidest reason. Seeing that you three were now done drinking, Ran quickly tries getting both of you out of the bar. Holding your sleeping body up in one arm—your head and arms draped over his shoulders (like a goddamn baby-). Rindou being held under his arm(carry him like a purse king) with Rin complaining how he’s going to throw up any minute. Ran makes quick work getting you three back to your shared penthouse.
Once there, you and Rindou are dropped on his king sized bed. Ran makes short work of taking off both of your blazers and shoes, seeing it as fulfilling his big brother duties—making sure your drunk siblings are comfortable for bed. Putting water and aspirin out on the nightstand for your inevitable hangovers, Ran climbs into bed as his two brothers attach themselves to him. Rin snoring unbelievably loud into his arm and you sprawled out like a starfish drooling on his side.
Ran couldn’t find it in himself to be mad or annoyed though, he laid contently knowing that you three had finally relaxed after a long week. Without a care in the world about Bonten, subordinates, missions, or the ever growing paperwork waiting for you all tomorrow. Just basking in the each other’s embrace as you drift off to sleep.
I literally went through the depths of my phone to find the memes that inspired Shiny Pink Bubblegum Psychopathic Sweetheart (it's NSFW and rated M). In conclusion, my life is hell and the memes on my phone create a swamp of misery. But at least it gives me inspiration!!!! And you can't tell me that there isn't an uncanny resemblance to SatoShoko I simply SHAN'T HEAR IT!!!!
Let this be a reminder that true love is sending each other ridiculous memes that may only be funny to your special person <3
P.S. I definitely described the top meme incorrectly but alas, no one is perfect, especially not me!
Anyone else wish Obey Me had like... collectible figures?? Don't get me wrong, I love Acrylic standees and all, however my affinity for collecting anime figures grows stronger by the day and I yearn for a 3D Solomon on my shelf for me to admire.
One year of this account with only six posts to its name. Slay ig.
Anyways, I'm working on a Mydei fic. Brb in like another month or something idk.
A sketch of the death of milo of croton housed in the national gallery of ireland
Wild story this, all my lecturers were sick today so I just fucked off to go draw in the gallery today
my part for the @kurofai-olympics! presented to you both with and without a background
my prompt was asphodel: my regrets follow you to the grave, which immediately made me think of a certain scene in Infinity...
so do you think wwx would still do the core transplant if he knew why jc lost his core? i think he might
Oh yeah. Actually it might depend on what scenario we're talking about here? Is this an AU where JC mumbles out the truth when feverish or something, or is this a time travel situation? Regardless, the following remain true:
Wei Wuxian loves Jiang Cheng very much and JC being sad in his vicinity is basically intolerable to him
Wei Wuxian considers himself to owe a debt to the Jiang
Wei Wuxian loves Lotus Pier and wants it restored and Jiang Cheng is the best chance they have
Wei Wuxian has rock bottom self worth and sky high self esteem, which means he does not consider himself of value while also simultaneously thinking he knows best and has the right to make decisions for other people
Obviously in canon or in a time travel AU where he didn't find out, he's ripping his organs out. If he does know, it kind of depends on timing. Teen WWX who heard JC's mumbled confession is drowning in guilt and self hatred and does it immediately. In some ways this improves the state of their relationship, because WWX now knows that Jiang Cheng considers him more important than his own life or even the sect. He's extremely upset by this, because "Your brother loves you" is the most devastating blow for either of them, but he is not questioning whether JC sees him as family in the same way as in canon. Wei Wuxian had to really tell himself over and over to consider the transfer as repayment or redemption to be alright with it, but this WWX is possibly trying to invent skin grafts to get rid of JC's scars. This is not a positive, but it does change things. However this also means that if JC ever finds out, not only will WWX have tricked him into a procedure he wouldn't have wanted, he purposefully and knowingly overrode his choice. This creates tension in relationships.
If it's time travelling WWX, if he has just found out and/or they haven't fully reconciled, he's having the same breakdown JC had in the Ancestral Hall and once again rips out his organs, possibly while whispering "Thank you and I'm sorry" because character development is not linear and WWX gets a little unhinged about his family. However if they've worked through things and communicated and hashed out where things went wrong and what they want their relationship to look like now and how they're going to achieve this, I think they can develop healthier habits. Wei Wuxian's postcanon advice to Jin Ling is to let himself rely on Jiang Cheng because being pushed away for his own good will just make him feel abandoned, and to respect JC's decision to risk his reputation to help and trust him to handle himself. As wildly hypocritical as this sounds, I think WWX has pretty clearly done some thinking about where he fucked up on that one. If WWX is able to come to this conclusion on his own without having worked through things with Jiang Cheng, I think he is capable of admitting that the core transfer while done out of love was maybe a touch fucked up. I do believe in these clowns being able to talk about the way they hurt each other and were hurt in turn and the misunderstandings between them. Wei Wuxian's character arc hasn't stopped at the end of the story, there's a reason WWX has that moment after Wen Qing and Wen Ning sacrifice themselves for him where he suddenly understands why Jiang Cheng hates when he does this. I think we can even out the self worth/self esteem ratio so WWX isn't constantly sacrificing himself because he knows best, and trusting JC specifically to make his own choices.
...Or at least that was what I was triumphantly going to say, until I saw a relevant gifset and contemplated Wei Wuxian suddenly being faced with a devastated Babie Jiang Cheng for the first time in decades. Jiang Cheng crying is already kind of a one hit KO for Wei Wuxian when they're the same age, can he really look at Babie JC's lip wobble without folding like a cheap lawn chair? I have long thought about them growing past their old mistakes and was confident that WWX could get there but now I am reconsidering this.
I don’t post as much but hey
My mind is going all over the place in writing a fanfic with ghost as a fucking cowboy who’s maybe a bounty hunter and soap is who’s just there or is he also a bounty hunter or a criminal.
Like ghost will see soap and say hi to him as he makes it into a town and soap will say hi but some times ghost will see soap in the next town which he doesn’t remember telling him or when he’s traveling with the man he caught and has to bring to the sheriff who’s probably price and deputy gaz.
But all he know is that soap is the on the trail which he finds interesting that the man can find ghost or find the area that’s he’s in.
Idk it’s been in my head a bit I might and might not write it out.
Just let me know if y’all do or not
I have a bachelor in drawing shitty comics for dead ships. - also in impromptu gifts for @ladynoblesong
Synopsis for the Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Movie!
me rising from my 4yr ao3 hiatus because i need to make those two men kiss
she res on my urrection till i come. (back. (from the dead))
I finally started writing something and it immediately went to angst
The Wanderer AU
I just watched Avatar: The Way of Water and came up with this bittersweet time-traveling au where Spider chooses to go his own way and practice self-care instead of staying where he is not wanted.
Imagine.
Spider’s last memory is the cold bite of Neytiri’s blade against his throat, her amber eyes filled with fury and grief. Then—nothing.
Yet, death does not claim him.
Instead, he awakens beneath the bioluminescent embrace of the Tree of Souls, his body weightless, his soul adrift. Eywa’s presence is everywhere—vast, ancient, and sorrowful. She tells him that his life was taken before its time, that he has honored her ways, and that she has always loved him. Eywa wants him to live again. To see the world beyond the forests and accept her blessings. He was meant for more.
And so, she gives him a choice: fade into the great cycle, or return.
Spider wakes gasping, his lungs—his human lungs—filling with Pandora’s air as if he had been born to breathe it. His mask is gone, yet he does not choke. Beside him, a presence stirs—an ikran, its sleek form rippling with twilight hues, its golden eyes locking onto his. It was his. Bonded. A gift, not tamed but chosen. Eywa's final gift.
Spider does not return to Hell’s Gate. He does not return to the Omatikaya. He takes to the skies, his ikran, his brother, carrying him over endless oceans and floating mountains, through mist-laden valleys and deep, untouched jungles. Spider becomes a phantom, a whisper in the trees, a shadow glimpsed soaring across the moons of Pandora, a traveling hermit always quick to spin a tale or offer advice.
Stories spread—of a lone human who flies Eywa’s skies and walks her lands without fear, a human who rides the largest ikran ever seen and calls it "brother," a human whose love for Eywa was so strong that she blessed him. Some call him a myth. Others, a ghost. The Na'vi speak of him in hushed voices, wondering if he was a sign of Eywa’s favor or her weapon against the humans who seek to corrupt her world.
Spider never sought out a home, but wherever he went, Pandora embraced him. Not as a human. Not as a stray. But as himself—the human who chose Pandora, and whom Pandora chose in return.
Judge, Jury, Executioner (Applause For The Fall Of A God)
The silence hangs heavy as though the guillotine was raised over his own neck at the sight of pooling blues that shine with a gleam of gold. Eyes glazed and unseeing, pinpricks of starshine glow dimming to shadows of the abyss. The world slows down as panic grows, steadily until it all bursts. The first scream brings about a waterfall of regret and fury. He falls to his knees, his hand reaching out as his vision blurs. His soul was being torn apart. He knew he was forsaken. He had not stricken the final blow, but he had allowed it to fall. He was as guilty as the criminals he once sentenced to the dark prisons below the waters.
He couldn't hear the distorted wailing that echoed through the walls or feel rough hands desperately shaking his unresponsive body as he stared at the corpse, no doubtedly ice cold by now, lay quiet and still at his feet. He hears the faint rumble of a storm gathering outside, the world responding to his grief as the rain begins to pour. Mercury silver raindrops puddling on the roads in murky, muddled blues. At last, his heart can not take the guilt, the agony, and he collapses. His only thought to be allowed to never wake, to be free from the guilt and blood of his God staining his hands like the coward he was, to grovel at the feet of his God like the sinner, once beloved, he is.
me and the other medic teaming up to become besties and contribute nothing to the objective (we are continually uberchaining each other, failing, and dying)
it's ok though because at least it was fun and silly we were playing tf2 as gaben intended clearly
It’s my digital pawprint thank you very much
"Welcome to the Show~!"
Codztober Day 16
Getting what they always wanted
The Shadows of Evil crew is fitting for this prompt, so have Successful and Famous [Actual]Magician Nero Blackstone!
