Mar 2
i said i might make designs, so here's some sillouette sketches
closeups under cut:
seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from United States
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seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
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seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from China
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seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
i said i might make designs, so here's some sillouette sketches
closeups under cut:
my (first) semi-successful acrylic painting.
my main 'concern' here was, that this painting was actually supposed to become a represenation of what i feel like on a daily basis. you know; the body horror that is really undescribable, truly. words cant really convey how i feel. so i thought; why not do so with art?
big massive fail . it looks exactly the way i i think it looks; a sulking teenagers pathetic attempt at being deep. the arrangement of all the objects around the center also has absolutely no correlation to what i wanted to convey. it may look pretty but its meaningless.
Can’t breathe.
His throat was closing in on him even as his body tried to heal.
Idiot.
He had forgotten about the curse. That he had put on the relic.
Azar managed a cough before his throat closed in again. He mentally flailed around trying to detach himself from it.
He made the thing, he should be capable of…
Everything went dark.
He awoke to something slamming in his chest and Victorius giving him a patented custodian glare.
“What did you just do?” Victorius said.
He pocketed the piece of blackstone, he must have grabbed it from the armory.
“I…” more coughing.
“Forgot about the curse I told you not too make?”
Victorius helped him sit up, medically not the wisest thing. But it was better than Azar having a death flashback.
Thank small blessings that he didn’t start spitting up blood.
“Five things you see?”
“I’m not having a panic attack,” Azar said.
Victorius’ hand found the back of his neck and his fingers running along the scar hidden there.
“I see myself drowning in my own blood.”
What would have been his death. His healing just couldn’t take the injuries anymore.
If not for the spear piercing his throat.
“In the now.”
“You don’t have to feel guilty,” Azar mumbled. “I see the snow.”
@goldenthroneresident
(To think it started as cookie bribes and hide n seek games. Now… holy shit what have I done. Read tags for context.)
"did the power just go out?" - @c4garuda ( ryu )
❝ aeons, not this again. ❞
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 as darkness enveloped the entirety of the space station in its embrace. thankfully, backup generators were set into motion as quickly as a minute, yet it wasn’t a convenient situation to be undergoing nonetheless. as the genius emanator ran to & fro between hallways & rooms, she began to wonder if perhaps it was time for her to build a new space station to be able to overcome these unfortunate circumstances but, in doing so, it would mean admitting to defeat at her latest model, & she would hate to be caught with her tail tucked between her legs when being confronted with the reality that her first try wasn’t the ultimatum.
how undignified.
“ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐚 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬, ” one of her several puppets informed her as madam herta took a moment to recollect herself amidst her thoughts of coming up with a better solution to counter these outages. she whisked the mini version of her away as she ventured forth towards one of the several glass windows that encased the station. lavender hues as sharp as razor blades narrowed when they caught a glimpse of the outside ⸻ stars & far away planets were all where they were supposed to be, but she knew better than to believe the unknown hadn’t come across a bump on the road.
she just wished she could see it with her very eyes & point an accusing finger at the culprit.
𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 ⸻ one she had never heard of before ⸻ & caused her to jolt around to try & see through the thickness of the shadows. a silhouette appeared but not much more was present to her vision, which only made her vote heavily on needing to come up with an alternative to combating this occurring annoyance.
❝ unless your sight has betrayed you, yes. the power is out currently, & we will have to wait until the magnetic waves of the cosmos balance themselves once more before it decides to rain its mercy on us. it is not your common outage. ❞
𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 to fill in the gaps for those who knew lesser than her would sometimes lead her to speak more than she should, & she had foolishly assumed this individual she could not see was someone employed under her.
❝ i do not recognize your voice. state your name & occupation if you may. ❞
So I wrote a Next to Normal prequel fanfiction about Dan confronting Gabe’s five year old spirit whilst Diana was out of town, yesterday 😅. The title is lifted from the song ‘Mama, Let Me In’ from 25mm which inspired a lot of the fic itself with the whole being outside the door thing - it’s a very loose link because the song is about something different, but I also took a lot of inspiration from The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances from the first season of the 2005 Doctor Who revival because that storyline is peak and I just get Gabe vibes from the titular child for some reason. Originally I was going to make it less ambiguous about whether Gabe was really a ghost or just a hallucination by Dan finally succumbing to the temptation of opening the door and seeing only a set of tiny wet footprints on the front step, but I took that out to add to the mystery as well as to more easily lead into N2N itself where you’re never quite sure (I’m of the belief that Gabe is simply a personification of mental illness but I wanted to give you the option if you don’t see the character that way because either interpretation is valid 🙂). If you’re interested, it’s very angsty with canon typical warnings, but it’s only just over 1600 words long and I just wanted to talk about my process - I already posted the link but here it is again if this ramble has convinced you to check it out 😁:
Don’t You Hear My Bang And Shout? Summary: When Dan is left home alone with a four year old Natalie whilst Diana’s staying with her parents, he expects life to be normal with nothing noteworthy occurring. But of course, he never expected an evening with his daughter to be interrupted by a ghost from the past knocking on his door, begging to be let in. But there’s no such thing as ghosts… right? Whatever’s happened… he… cannot be back. Can he?
My brain randomly for no reason: if there truly is a god, than he must like using the same plot thread over and over again, as it is clear throughout history as it is clear now that humanity seems to desire leadership and when their leaders are corrupt, they lash out and attempt to dismantle the system only to create a new one, thus repeating the cycle. And then, when this cycle is called out, you are labeled insane, delusional, or too radical for realizing the truth where so many cannot— not because they do not have the intellect to realize it is the truth, but because they do not want to sacrifice the small semblance of control they desire to have over the lives of themselves and others.
…
Me: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!?!?
My brain: Can we watch mob psycho again and eat chicken nuggets?
Me *extistential crisis mode*: sure, I dunno man, you’re weird
What an fantastic match between Asuka and Rhea!!
Wait omg, Asuka mist Rhea!!!! And now kairi beating on Rhea!
IYO!!!!
aventurine thought process - puppy, by glass beach
that fucking moment when you realize
"these days i fear the love in everything"
is aventurine coded because he's learned to treat relationships as a gamble where you give and take and backstab one another. to fear the concept of love because it was taken from you and slaughtered before your very eyes. to fear the idea of vulnerability and love because everyone you love has died and that misfortune will extend to everyone else. you fear yourself like you fear the love of others because they want to either take advantage of you or they will die being kind.
fear your own luck, fear your own heart, and play up your façade, lest you be led on or watch another person you love bleed to death in your arms.
