Hi, I'm Frog or Void! I am 19! I'm relatively new to Tumblr, though I was in here in 2020. I am trans masc, and I use he they pronouns bc I change between being a guy for sure and being non binary and areas in between. Guy, boy, man, person, dude, any of those identifiers are fine all the time!
• FREE PALESTINE!!
~~ This blog is the first time I've ever put my art on the Internet! I hope you like it!
( If anyone thinks that I've shared too much about myself, please let me know!)
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× I am not fat myself, or plus sized but anyone who spreads any sort of body hate or bs will be blocked. Fat is just a word and fat is beautiful. - I will simply block people I do not want to follow me.
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My personal tags so far:
voids fantasy world (stuff about my OCS, races and world)
welcometovoidsart (my art),
voidsthoughts (personal/original posts where you can learn more about me),
voidsimportantshit (drawing tips, ways you can help Palestine, food recipes and money saving tips)
voidwritestoo (any writing that I've done, maybe for English class, maybe part of my fantasy world)
Some of the art I've done that I'm proud of!
} All my personal tags and more importantly, my art tag, are tagged below for easy access!
This is the beginning of a story I started a while ago, about a star flipper and the meaning of importance. It'd be a lot to finish it and put it on here but I'd like to try to do that at some point!
Voids Fantasy World : The Sunrise Warriors 🌄 the main story
ok in an attempt to feel better and more creative, I'm going to talk more about fantasy world stuff and see what I might change around! Also I will maybe tag you @ovenstavern, bc maybe you would like to read this, I'm not sure I hope that's ok.
When I was a kid, I spent the majority of my time thinking and acting out the Sunrise Warriors. These warriors were modeled after the Amazons, and had a matriarchal society, with women serving as warriors for the kingdom. This race is a sort of fae, magical race, but is much more like humans in terms of height and build.
The lore surrounding this races creation is something I kinda planned out but also kinda didnt. The idea goes that the goddess of war wanted her own race, a race that would fight for her and bring her power with their wars and battles. She chose a human to make into something so much more and to begin a race that would bring her glory. This was ancient times, the beginning of civilizations. She chose a young girl that she was satisfied with and imbued her with power, shining like the sun, the way the goddess shone with anger and power.
This young girl accepted this power and it was passed down through the centuries, creating a mighty race of female warriors who bowed to no one and rarely lived in peace. They were perhaps not cruel and not unwise, but they brought glory to the goddess of war all the same.
Relatively early in the Sunrise Warriors creation, they began a war with the humans, full of bitterness, revenge, misunderstandings and foolishness for decades upon decades. This war was waged in planes next to the earthly reality but not quite, and kept hidden from the rest of the world as governments and powerful men killed and hunted, with increasingly advanced magical technology.
The war goddess reveled in this millennia war, full and satiated. And if she intervened and managed to keep it going? Well, thats her right as a goddess. Death breathed in the power left after the war goddess consumed the energy, and Death was also quite happy to let this war continue for eons.
Until destiny and prophecy began to take hold, and a human child begins unweaving this war. She (or he, haven't decided), comes into this story, touched by other worlds and begins bringing things together and her actions do not make the war goddess happy.
Not. At. All.
The Sunrise Warriors magic begins to wain, being consumed once again by the angry goddess. Whatever the human child seems to do cannot convince either the humans or Warriors to seek peace, but there are some that listen. These choice characters that the child brings into play sets in motion something that can't be stopped and both Death and the goddess are very, very angry.
Everything is pulled into the orbit of this war, though not the war of humans against Warriors, but the war that the war goddess and Death begin. The Tiny Puddle People, with their portals cannot be left out of this tale. The Flower Faen, the Teel Fairies, even the tiny creatures of Minimoss Forest all have a role to play. Finding Life, fighting War and Death, all hanging in the balance, swirling and circling around one tiny human.
Introducing my English class journal! That looks very similar to my personal stories journal!
I have a bunch of journals but really this is my journal for this year and it's really helping me write more. Every English class I get to write like a little prompt and it's great to go back to my roots. I've developed my writing style so much with just journaling over the years. I wrote a shit ton when I was younger. Now I've got other, arguably less healthy, coping mechanisms! Yay!
Faeries are a great class of people, diverse and wild as humans. Species and sub-species, different magicks and lifestyles, all generalized by human folklore and legend, which is to be expected. Humans tend to stereotype that which they don't understand quite often. However, don't mistake this passage as my attempt to rectify this ignorance. I think it is best that humans remain in the dark about a great many things. This is my attempt to focus my research as to help me in my pursuit of what interests me. The events gripping the magical world compel me to research more about relevant species as much as I can.
Teel Faeries are what most humans would think of as real, traditional type faeries. They are a delicate, beautiful species, with a sparkling blue magic and a tendency to live in very specific environments. In my studies, I have found that there /must/ be at least ten mushrooms within the vicinity of the settlement, a small stream, plenty of moss, magic teel mushrooms, a small waterfall, and a general feeling of peace in the air. They flit over the moss covered branches, drink the drops of water dripping from moss, play their tiny harps and lutes and tend to their teel mushrooms, which keep them in tip top magical shape and health. The blue spores wafting from the mushrooms constantly seem to be enough to do this. The faeries tend to the mushrooms, assuring more generations of mushrooms to come, and the mushrooms share their magic with the faeries. A most harmonious relationship, which can be expected from Teel Faeries, really.
There is a similar species of fae to the Teel Faeries, that most individuals tend to mix up. The Tiny Puddle People do have some similarities to the Teel Faeries, such as living around water and also interacting with Teel mushrooms (which is all I will say about the TPP and teel mushrooms. I would prefer to stay out of such business until I am no longer able, thank you very much) but to those that look beyond cursory glance, they are very different.
Tiny Puddle People (TPP) are more industrialized and integrated into human society. They live in ditches, puddles and -during desperate times- pot-holes. Teel Faeries mostly live in forests and fields, where their requirements are met. TPP are not the type to need a curated environment. They thrive and grow where they are, and live anywhere with puddles. Only one in ten streams houses a Teel Faerie village, but TPP are absolutely everywhere. I do not feel it necessary to delve deeper in the Tiny Puddle People, as they are a subject of particular interest to me, and I require no more organizing of my thoughts for this specific species.
The Flower Faen are perhaps one of the most dangerous fae I've come across. They are the spirits of flowers, like the human myths of dryads. They hibernate in the winter and pop back awake in the spring. They are a pure and simple race, but prone to revelry and dancing, with not a care in the world. Like Dionysus and his satyrs, they live for the pleasures of this world.
All creatures in this world are meant to be balanced. A bit of darkness in the soul, a bit of light, these things keep us stable and aware. We're well prepared for the pull of doing something evil, and yet still know that we are good. The Flower Faen has no such balance. If they fall to a dark impulse, they fall hard and fast. They have nothing to turn back to, and so become demons. Demons that want nothing more than to tear down their fellow fae, such as the incidence of the Flower Wars or Blob Attack of 1504. Every flower fears becoming a demon, and falling prey to the dark, so they drown their sorrows and live lives of extravagance and constant motion.
I would go on, to speak about the Sunrise Warriors, but they have plagued my thoughts and consumed my every moment lately and I grow tired of that blasted people. This war with the humans has become something else entirely. I fear that other influences are manipulating events from the sidelines. I- I worry about Charlie. I fear I've sent him into more danger than I realized. I thought I understood what the prophecies were saying but-
Blast. The trogs I've been following for days now are on the move again. I must end this passage for now.
Erm I am not sure but maybe @ovenstavern would like to see this? I wanted to expand more and put down what I'd written years ago. Maybe you'd be interested!
I'd like to introduce my writing journal!! It's my journal for a ton of my writing for the past probably 5 years. It's not full, but I just wanted to give a little sneak peak, because I'll be posting some stories from this journal and I wanted people to see where they're coming from!
Mold spores, a lion eating a gazelle, deer bones laying on leaf litter.
The mold spreads across the peach like vines. Spores dance through the air, whole universes contained within, alive and happy. The mold grows in fractals and circles. It slowly eats the peach and gives life back to the earth. Spikes of mold reach upwards in the air, blue dots alive like entire oceans. The fuzzy peach skin blends with the fuzzy mold like a mirror that shows what is in the past and future.
The lion grips the gazelle with it's strong jaws, struggling to hold on. The gazelle stumbles, once, twice. It's enough. The fight is over as it falls and the lion has its triumph. The gazelle lies on its side, breath puffing into the cold air. Light suffuses the scene as the lion begins to tear into the gazelle. Blood sprays onto the gazelles belly, dripping down its fur. It soaks into it like wine on a carpet. The gazelle begins it's last breaths. The lion is hungry. It creates its life from the warm blood of a dying creature. The red meat comes off in strips and shreds, clinging to bone and sinew. The rest of the gazelle herd is long gone. It is quiet here, in the deathly stillness of the morning.
Stark white glares out of brown leaf litter. Bones, stripped and broken lay on the forest floor. Deer legs that danced on air, touching the earth for eternity. Beautiful and lonely, the skull sits away from the rest of the bones, a brave testament to life. A deer disappears in life. It runs away and leaves only traces. In its last moments, the deer says 'I was here.' A life fleeting and scared, bravely lies for all to see, white and bare among the leaf litter.