The most frustrating experience as a writer is having a clear vision in your mind of the story you want to tell but being too afraid to put pen to paper for fear of failing to do the story justice. I’m so scared that my actual execution will fail to meet my expectations that I’m paralysed to even start.
Just realized that in epic they say ‘the wind god’ or ‘sun god’ because of the belief that invoking their name will bring their attention to you and you don’t want that, so titles are used instead
Which makes Ody constantly name-dropping Poseidon even funnier because well they’ve already pissed him off no need to bother with the formalities lol
Fandom creators are like cows, some people think you can just milk them for content, but actually they need enrichment (comments) and a nice pasture to graze on (kudos/likes) and they secretly also like cuddles (asks about their fic/art)
one day I’ll finally write that ridiculously elaborate fanfiction that I’ve been carefully constructing in my daydreams for months and then you’ll be sorry. you’ll all be sorry.
Okay, you know what? After reading this post, I jokingly said we should all just make a pact to reblog it five times a day forever. So I'm gonna do this louder for the people in the back:
AO3 WAS CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS
AO3 IS RUN BY FANS (VOLUNTEERS, NO LESS)
AO3 IS PART OF THE NON-PROFIT, ORGANIZATION FOR TRANSFORMATIVE WORKS
AO3 IS NOT OWNED BY ANY COMPANIES AND DOES NOT EARN REVENUE
Had a break down and spiralled into some old insecurities, so why not comfort yourself through projecting onto your favorite lil guy :3
Content Warnings! : lots of talk of self deprecation, mentions and depictions of self harm, break downs
If I missed anything please let me know and I'll add it to the warnings for future viewers
Right anyways here's 1k words of phantom ghoul being mentally ill
Ah, Thats.. Not right
It wasn't supposed to have him do this, it was supposed to be quick and easy, just fill out the quiz and hit submit. This page shouldnt have popped up.
What happened? what did he do wrong? He filled everything out right, got almost all the answer right. He did it right, why was it wrong.
His face started to ache with the furrow in his brows and frown at his lips, his eyes darting back and forth trying to piece together what could've gone wrong, where did he mess it up. It was at the start wasn't it. He thought the prompt sounded wrong, but nothing else was popping up when he refilled the information.
An ugly feeling started pooling in his stomach, his throat felt raw. Quickly exiting out of the page, and opening it back up, he tried clicking on the test again.
Nope. He's officially, royally, fucked up. Unable to do anything or figure something out he starts to panic.
Why is this happening, he did it right. He was supposed to do it right. It was supposed to be easy. Everyone else did it just fine. Why didnt he. Why couldnt he do it right, he can't do anything right, always fucking up, always doing it wrong, always messing up someone else's day with having them help him, always angering people because he couldn't do a simple task.
It wasn't your fault.
He can't do anything right. why does he even try.
Trying is all someone can do.
He knew it would've messed it up and it did.
You did what you thought was right.
It wasn't right!
Shut up! it wasn't right and it's your fault!
Take some fucking responsiblity for once!
You couldn't figure out something so simple, it's easy, why couldn't you do it!?
...
He's tired of this.
Of here.
He grabs his phone from where it got tossed on his bed, opening Aurora and his' messages
Mr.Bug: rory I messed it up:(
Mrs.Bug: the test?
Mr.Bug: yeah, I don't know what happened
Mr.Bug: I struggled to sign in and then had to sit through the most mind numbing 30minutes of ai voice speach ever and when I finished the test it wanted me to pay like, 100 dollars :((
Mrs.Bug: pits Ant how did you do that 😭
Mr.Bug: Idk! D:
Mrs.Bug: I'm so sorry, phantom, we'll figure it out tomorrow with the group and stuff
Mr.Bug: okay 😞
The sound of his head hitting the wall behind him nearly echoes in the silence of his room. He feels his throat tighten, and his body tense. He doesn't want to cry, he hates crying. It makes his head hurt and his face swell.
He bites his lip in a useless attempt to stave off the break down crawling up his throat. And with the first few tears the carefully curated dam breaks, his hand coming up to rake through his black and white rats nest of a mane, the greasy feeling of unwashed hair making him feel worse. his body shaking, aching in the strain of being quiet.
The walls of the ghouls rooms were pretty well soundproofed, any inside noise thoroughly muffled to near perfect muteness. But he didn't want to risk the off chance that the others grew super hearing. Or his room specifically, just wasn't soundproofed. Knowing his luck one or the other would end up being right. So he kept quite, muffling his strained sobbing behind his hands and a blanket.
His mind goes on a whirlwind of self deprecating thoughts. This has happened to many times, he's been here for to short of a time for that many faults to stack so high. It towers over him, over Swiss, or Aether, even over Mountain, in his mind.
His mind quiets, his body relaxes and hands slide down his face. Deep breaths, blink back the tears, grab your phone and at least warn Aether of your fuck up.
He does so, shakely reopening his phone, this time to Aether and his' messages. The devices clock glaring an ugly 12:34am at him.
Mr.Bug: me when I break down over a silly little test because I managed to fuck it up and you'll have to help me fix it somehow tomorrow :,3
AetherEther: tbh, not that surprised 😅
AetherEther: I'll help you tomorrow
Mr.Bug: I'm so so sorry :(
AetherEther: it's alright
He was hoping for some positive, understanding words. Hoping the way he said it would ease the disappointment. Well, he got the understanding part.
It hated how his eyes swelled with tears as he read the responding messages. Throwing the headphones he had around his neck to the end of the bed and yanking at his smooth horns. Fucking Pits! Not surprised. Not. fucking. surprised.
Oh he knew the older quint didn't mean it like that, he really did, but his mind read the words and all of his insecurities roared. He clenched his teeth and pulled his horns harder.
The ache was a nice distraction from the horrible feeling of crying, but it wasn't enough. He needed more, he needed something sharper, stronger, longer lasting. He wanted-... No
No you can't do that, you promised her you wouldn't, you're better than that. It's been so long, you've done so well you can't ruin that over a stupid test.
Something else then, his nails, his fingers. His hands fall from his achey head to his bare shoulder, digging right above his shoulder blade and scraping up. His nails were to dull in this half glamoured form to break his skin, but the pressure on the muscle paired with the gritting of his teeth was close enough.
He hoped it'd bruise
He wants it to bruise
Do it on your forearm so they see
He digs his fingers into the back of his shoulder, next to where they had ended their journey up.
His nails dug in a bit more than the pads of his fingers this time, a sharper, more welcomed pain
Yes that was a bit better, he wanted more of that, needed more of that kind of pain
A rather harsh sob broke past his clenched teeth, and he curled in on himself. He digs his thumb nail, longer than the other due to a nail picking habit, into the underside of his upper arm. The sting of it was sharper and longer lasting than the previous tries.
As he dug the nail in, anger filled his body. He couldnt do anything right and they all expected that of him. It was expected. Lords below he really was useless. He was tired of this, he wanted to go home.
Wherever that was.
He doubted it was here. He didn't know where else home would be, the pits definitely weren't, here wasn't.. So where did he belong.
Did he belong?
What use was he to the world if he couldn't even do something so simple?
Had a break down and spiralled into some old insecurities, so why not comfort yourself through projecting onto your favorite lil guy :3
Content Warnings! : lots of talk of self deprecation, mentions and depictions of self harm, break downs
If I missed anything please let me know and I'll add it to the warnings for future viewers
Right anyways here's 1k words of phantom ghoul being mentally ill
Ah, Thats.. Not right
It wasn't supposed to have him do this, it was supposed to be quick and easy, just fill out the quiz and hit submit. This page shouldnt have popped up.
What happened? what did he do wrong? He filled everything out right, got almost all the answer right. He did it right, why was it wrong.
His face started to ache with the furrow in his brows and frown at his lips, his eyes darting back and forth trying to piece together what could've gone wrong, where did he mess it up. It was at the start wasn't it. He thought the prompt sounded wrong, but nothing else was popping up when he refilled the information.
An ugly feeling started pooling in his stomach, his throat felt raw. Quickly exiting out of the page, and opening it back up, he tried clicking on the test again.
Nope. He's officially, royally, fucked up. Unable to do anything or figure something out he starts to panic.
Why is this happening, he did it right. He was supposed to do it right. It was supposed to be easy. Everyone else did it just fine. Why didnt he. Why couldnt he do it right, he can't do anything right, always fucking up, always doing it wrong, always messing up someone else's day with having them help him, always angering people because he couldn't do a simple task.
It wasn't your fault.
He can't do anything right. why does he even try.
Trying is all someone can do.
He knew it would've messed it up and it did.
You did what you thought was right.
It wasn't right!
Shut up! it wasn't right and it's your fault!
Take some fucking responsiblity for once!
You couldn't figure out something so simple, it's easy, why couldn't you do it!?
...
He's tired of this.
Of here.
He grabs his phone from where it got tossed on his bed, opening Aurora and his' messages
Mr.Bug: rory I messed it up:(
Mrs.Bug: the test?
Mr.Bug: yeah, I don't know what happened
Mr.Bug: I struggled to sign in and then had to sit through the most mind numbing 30minutes of ai voice speach ever and when I finished the test it wanted me to pay like, 100 dollars :((
Mrs.Bug: pits Ant how did you do that 😭
Mr.Bug: Idk! D:
Mrs.Bug: I'm so sorry, phantom, we'll figure it out tomorrow with the group and stuff
Mr.Bug: okay 😞
The sound of his head hitting the wall behind him nearly echoes in the silence of his room. He feels his throat tighten, and his body tense. He doesn't want to cry, he hates crying. It makes his head hurt and his face swell.
He bites his lip in a useless attempt to stave off the break down crawling up his throat. And with the first few tears the carefully curated dam breaks, his hand coming up to rake through his black and white rats nest of a mane, the greasy feeling of unwashed hair making him feel worse. his body shaking, aching in the strain of being quiet.
The walls of the ghouls rooms were pretty well soundproofed, any inside noise thoroughly muffled to near perfect muteness. But he didn't want to risk the off chance that the others grew super hearing. Or his room specifically, just wasn't soundproofed. Knowing his luck one or the other would end up being right. So he kept quite, muffling his strained sobbing behind his hands and a blanket.
His mind goes on a whirlwind of self deprecating thoughts. This has happened to many times, he's been here for to short of a time for that many faults to stack so high. It towers over him, over Swiss, or Aether, even over Mountain, in his mind.
His mind quiets, his body relaxes and hands slide down his face. Deep breaths, blink back the tears, grab your phone and at least warn Aether of your fuck up.
He does so, shakely reopening his phone, this time to Aether and his' messages. The devices clock glaring an ugly 12:34am at him.
Mr.Bug: me when I break down over a silly little test because I managed to fuck it up and you'll have to help me fix it somehow tomorrow :,3
AetherEther: tbh, not that surprised 😅
AetherEther: I'll help you tomorrow
Mr.Bug: I'm so so sorry :(
AetherEther: it's alright
He was hoping for some positive, understanding words. Hoping the way he said it would ease the disappointment. Well, he got the understanding part.
It hated how his eyes swelled with tears as he read the responding messages. Throwing the headphones he had around his neck to the end of the bed and yanking at his smooth horns. Fucking Pits! Not surprised. Not. fucking. surprised.
Oh he knew the older quint didn't mean it like that, he really did, but his mind read the words and all of his insecurities roared. He clenched his teeth and pulled his horns harder.
The ache was a nice distraction from the horrible feeling of crying, but it wasn't enough. He needed more, he needed something sharper, stronger, longer lasting. He wanted-... No
No you can't do that, you promised her you wouldn't, you're better than that. It's been so long, you've done so well you can't ruin that over a stupid test.
Something else then, his nails, his fingers. His hands fall from his achey head to his bare shoulder, digging right above his shoulder blade and scraping up. His nails were to dull in this half glamoured form to break his skin, but the pressure on the muscle paired with the gritting of his teeth was close enough.
He hoped it'd bruise
He wants it to bruise
Do it on your forearm so they see
He digs his fingers into the back of his shoulder, next to where they had ended their journey up.
His nails dug in a bit more than the pads of his fingers this time, a sharper, more welcomed pain
Yes that was a bit better, he wanted more of that, needed more of that kind of pain
A rather harsh sob broke past his clenched teeth, and he curled in on himself. He digs his thumb nail, longer than the other due to a nail picking habit, into the underside of his upper arm. The sting of it was sharper and longer lasting than the previous tries.
As he dug the nail in, anger filled his body. He couldnt do anything right and they all expected that of him. It was expected. Lords below he really was useless. He was tired of this, he wanted to go home.
Wherever that was.
He doubted it was here. He didn't know where else home would be, the pits definitely weren't, here wasn't.. So where did he belong.
Did he belong?
What use was he to the world if he couldn't even do something so simple?
