Original Work - Tumblr Posts

APATHY

The middle part that

My mom's so sure

Makes me look aged.

The girl my age

Who has over 2k followers

When I don't even engage.

The minor social interactions

That haven't left any space

For the happy ones in my brains.

The opinions about

How numb I am

People just have to shout.

The things others are doing

That make me feel like

I'm not even persuing.

This is to let you know

That I do care

But I don't care enough.

sit down, child, and listen.

There are things, child, that you will not understand. You will ask and you will be denied; you will slam your fists against closed doors and beg them open. They will not respond. You will live with this.

There are people, child, that will drain you. They will come into your life and they will take time you cannot afford to give. You will entertain them until you learn that they leave just as quickly as they come. You will regret time lost. You will live with this. 

There are loves, child, that will shatter and shape you. You will love your parents and they will pass. You will seek shelter in faceless lovers’ arms. You will not find The One, but you will meet someone you adore and put the work in to love. You will be content. You will live with this. 

There are lives, child, that we all must lead. Yours will not be perfect nor pretty, but it is yours. You will strive to be happy and sometimes you will come up short. You will cry and scream and laugh and learn. You will live.

*+.Forgotten Sky.+*

Chapter I :

{Morning Sky}

You haven’t heard , have you? No? It doesn’t really surprise me… after all, you and I are just spectators of this world, able to see it both bloom and wither away. You’ve just got here… so please allow this humble narrator to serve you throughout this lecture and explain this situation.

At Glossopharyngeal Academy Hm? Yes, I am aware it’s a plenty weird name, but who am I to judge? I am merely the narrator… not the author. Complain to her if you can’t remember it later. What was I saying..? Ah yes. At Glossopharyngeal Academy, a name that only a drunk doctor playing darts on a human body could ever give to a school, a rumor has spread like a weed in a flower garden. It was based on the unfortunate death of a first year student by the name of Avery Shiloh, who was killed by a fellow classmate, that pushed her off the school roof in a fit of rage. This incident took place many years prior to our tale and it disappeared like thin strings of smoke in a storms ruthless winds, but somehow someone remembered it. The new rumor slowly began corrupting the whole school until not even a soul was unaware of the name of ‘Caelum’ and her story. Let me see if I can recall it…

Every morning, as the sun begins to arise, the figure of a black haired girl will wonder around the rooftop asking if anyone is there. But beware that if you don’t answer in her favorite language, you will suffer her faith.

Avery was- forget it. I am a respectable narrator, keep on reading for your informations. I shouldn’t chitchat with the reader.

Our tale has its beginnings in a chilly early autumn morning. The freezing air painting uncertainty in the students lungs. Strings of aa yet to be identified sensation sewing through their every muscle holding their members tight against their bodies. As much as they yearned to drown themselves in the cold and rigid new uniforms, to hide from that feeling, they didn’t. They couldn’t. It was just an irrational fear; ghosts, legends and monsters are just peoples’ imagination… right? And even if spirits were real, there’s no way they’re as people describe them… “How bad can they possibly be?” A thought that sung in the first years’ minds in unison. Even though the minds of two of the new students, played the same tune. A girl and a boy. And to respect the cliches.. the girl was scared of the possibility of ghosts in the school and the boy was swearing his eternal friendship with her.. or any other things other writers say. But leaving jokes aside, the truth is… the blonde boy with disheveled was the one scared out of his mind, shaking from each and every joint. If he didn’t have human form, he might be mistaken for a jelly during an earthquake. On the other hand, the girl, calm, more than a statue, was trying, not really that much, in all honesty, to make the jelly-human relax.

“Enzo, please, stop it. You look stupid.”

She says without too much emotion, for a few seconds placing her hands on Enzo’s raised shoulder, in a failed attempt to get him to stop shaking. She removes her hands to straighten her clothes some more, if that was even possible. Unlike our scared jelly’s, whose clothes divulged emotions happily, ruffled, his head dug in his shoulders and his pupils as contracted as they get, allowing their azure color to shine through, the girl didn’t show a drop of fear. Hair of the same color as Enzo’s eyes perfectly tied in a ponytail, not a rebellious strand dared to ruin. Neither did her uniform have any wrinkles, even the fibers seemed to be systematically aligned. 

“W-W-What!? You’re telling me that you aren’t scared, no, te-terrified that we are… we are going to.. be in the same school with… g-g-ghost…!?”

Cries out Enzo, playing the buttons of his uniform in between his trembling fingers. Pinching the bridge of her nose the girl sighs, but before she’s able to add something, a voice gentle and steady covers the school yard.

“Good morning, my respectable students and parents. I am more than honored to welcome you to our school.”

All of the participants’ eyes dart towards the source of the sudden sound. A stage- it’s not really a stage.. How should I appraise it…? Should I be a polite narrator or.. say my true opinion…? Honesty is always the key.. right…? Anyhow, the cube with stairs that held the place of a stage. Everyone’s eyes dart towards the so called stage, but while doing it the girl’s eyes glide towards the roof by accident. Her blood runs cold, freezing in her veins. On the railing, dangling its legs carelessly, a foggy figure waves at the girl, after it’s saw the figure leaps backwards evaporating on the roof.

The eyes of the shocked girl widen, her eyebrows furrowing and lips parting slightly. A sharp breath, that felt cooler than the one before, cuts into her lungs.

“Are you o-okay…? G-Grace…?”

Hearing her name turns towards Enzo, who, at sight of the shock on her face, starts shaking even more. Grace murmurs a “yes” before turning her attention to the “stage” again.

Ahhh… I don’t feel like talking so much! What a sadistic author; not even having on mercy her poor and ever loyal narrator! Ugh… enough with the complaining.. or else I’m never going to finish this…

To no one’s surprise, the one making the announcement was the principal. A well respected and renowned gentleman, mainly known for his habit of implementing unusual rules, to keep the students in check. Most were reasonable.. some weird.. but some were… questionable… Some were saying he was nuts, while others said he was good and slightly (more) chaotic. 

With the legend of Caelum covering the school like the thin layer of ice on shallow a body of water, under the merciless rule of winter, the principal’s punishments became harsher, bit by bit. Of course they were no longer go to the five classes while wearing a fish shaped hat to taking a test with the grade above.

I suppose I will allow you to discover the rest later on, because if I told you everything from the first chapter, I would lose my job, wouldn’t I?

—————————————————————————-

Yay thanks for reading! See you next time!

*+.Forgotten Sky.+*

You can read chapter one here Chapter two:

{Imaginary fish}

“How many times do have to tell you? Ghosts aren’t real.”

Sighed Grace, even if gradually started to believe an altogether distinct story—one she was not going to admit to her blonde friend—this dreadful school was succeeding in making her believe the existence of living dead. She closed her eyes and heard Enzo attempt shakily to respond, but his words had been substituted by a screech rather than understandable words. His legs stopped circling the little pond, as if the grass had grown over his shoes and tied them to the damp, cold soil.

“A-ACK!! WHAT’S THAT?”

He cried in one fearful breath, Grace's face started acquiring on the hues of sheer perplexity. The boy with hair as if of gold thread indicates to something rectangular of shape laying just beneath the small body of water’s surface. The movement of the liquid mutilating the even edges, making them tremble in an irregular manner, a distorted, almost human like face peeking through the waters. It rested under the shadow of the old ebony wood bridge decorated with carved flowers painted shade of red, lightened by the never ending cycle of passing time, an ashy cat tiredly swaying its tail to the beat of the sky’s murmurs. Enzo clutches the song, playing nervously the buttons of his uniform between his fingers, to the deaf beat. He glanced at Grace, with eyes that only divulged a mimic of taintless horror to plaster itself on the boy’s face. To his despair, the friend he oh so much trusted, mirrored his facial expression — a sight seldom observed to such unimaginable extent —. Grace’s mouth opens a little, a short sigh escapes. Leaving room for much interpretation she throws her cardigan at the trembling blonde boy, the buttons hitting with a pok. Not asked if he wanted to be a clothes hanger, but not given another choice either, Enzo wrapped his fingers around it tightly, not daring to let it touch the ground. Grace advanced forward, kneeling before the pond, her gently entering the water, watching it part for a few seconds under the pressure of her fingers. Like vines her fingers attached to the picture frame, but for an unidentifiable reason the water refused to part ways with it, a dome of water forming over Grace’s hand.

“How dare you try and take my precious photo, human?!”

Cries out an high pitched voice, even if it was far from possessing any sort of force, the two first years’ fall to the ground. A wind of confusion and terror respectively nail the blue haired girl and blond boy to the soil. And I can happily announce Grace’s cardigan still hasn’t touched the grass and instead was kept up in the air by Enzo’s stiff arms. And there. Right before their very eyes, it skipped atop the greenish, still water. A being with petals of incarnadine roses scattered on its head, the water glueing them the blueish skin. Horns and a tail of lilac smoke raising to the cloudless sky. The light azure porcelain skin filled with long cracks.

“Vanish from before my eyes!”

threatened the being, though the intent would have certainly shone through better if it wouldn’t have had the height of a fork and held one in its tiny hand. The two friends stared at each other, a bow of dread taking a hold of their throats, that neither can swallow away.

“Stop ignoring me, silly humans! Begone!”

“W-what… what are you…?”

Grace questioned, the ribbon of fear of the yet to be known desperately trying to take back the words just spoken. A laugh that caressed their ears with a sanding paper meekness arose from the fish-like being.

“I’m Astra, of course, you mindless mortal!”

The water of the pond moved faster. As Astra stumbled running towards the confused and frightened first years, another voice sliced the silence.

“You had your fun, Astra. Leave the students alone.”

———————————————————

Yay!!! Thank you for reading!~ Hope you liked it!!

Now this is an illustration I am definitely happy with but will probably hate later. It’s a plant with an almost jelly like middle and it’s rind is a natural gelatine substitute. I called it Meisai and it’s one of the many plants featured in my kickstarter fantasy journal project you can check out below. 

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/739131116/a-guide-to-flora-in-nueve-estrella/description

You will find here a list of all my projects/stories that I posted. -> edited each time I add chapters ;) 🔺All of my work is original, please do not steal or copy. If anything might seem plagiarized it is an unwanted coincidence, please notify me. Thanks :)🔺

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

🍄 - 𝓜𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮, 𝓟𝓸𝓹𝓹𝔂

My lovely persona <3

Meet the artist.

🪻- 𝑷𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔

Introduction

Pansy n°1 = F*cking writer’s block.

Pansy n°2 = I love English.

Pansy n°3 = "I'm tired".

Pansy n°4 = A little catch up.

Pansy n°5 = Reality ? No thanks...

Pansy n°6 = Oneiric inspiration.

Pansy n°7 = My mind's safe space.

Pansy n°8 = Who are my / our Husbandos ?

Pansy n°9 = I'm "over"-everything.

☎️ - 𝓑𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓗𝓸𝓽𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮

Cigarette and Beer

Part 1: Asylum

Hey friends! Here's the first in a two-part original story. I first wrote this back in 2012 (I was 14 at the time), but I took some time to make some significant edits today (a full decade later), so hopefully it turned out okay. Anyhow, please be nice, and enjoy!

Alone I sit, suffocating in the near-silence as I hear nothing but my own thoughts and the ticking of the clock on the wall in the distance.

Click. Pat, pat, pat.

A woman enters my vision, hand gently lighting on my shoulder as she dodders down into a crouch. “How are you today?” she asks. Her eyes are blue, but not like warmth and joy and summer. Her eyes are as stormy as a summer squall, rain held back just barely. I continue staring blankly at the white-washed wall across the room, holding back my own inevitable tempests.

After a moment, she heaves to her feet, turning to leave as the mist begins to cloud my eyes like the fog at the end of a waterfall. As she closes the door, one single droplet escapes, landing in my lap. “I didn’t do it,” I whisper, only to be met with echoing silence. She’s already gone.

Every day is the same; breakfast, lunch, dinner, sleep. Everyday I remain on my bed, legs crossed, eyes on the white wall, locked away within the prison of my own mind. There is nothing to do but think, always think. Occasionally I hear the faintest sound of clomp, clomp as someone plods past, likely to the family room; they have a visitor. I never receive any visitors.

I have all but lost count of the time when a noise cuts through the silence of my mind, new and unexpected. Far off, as if miles away, I hear my brother; he is calling my name, trying to reach me. No, he cannot be here. I must have finally lost my mind. This place meant to heal those who have gone mad has, finally, unhinged me. I blink, and his voice is at once louder, closer. Once more, and I hear the stomping of many feet. The guards are rushing. I have never heard them in such an uproar before.

Crash!

I flinch in my seat as the door is flung open wide. I glance at the intruder as if through a haze, my ears ringing as he utters my name. The sound of a sigh as the mirage steps closer. The dam breaks as the monsoon that I’ve fought for months finally escapes my eyes, pouring like waterfalls down my face.

“They said you killed him,” he breathes, “Did you?”

“No,” I croak, my throat scratchy and soar, as I speak for the first time since I entered this room.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he pronounces before his voice falters. “It’s not going to be easy, though.”

One month later, and I’ve finally escaped my white prison. Rough hands reach for me, grabbing at my hands, arms, shoulders, feet. I feel the cold bit of metal around my wrists, as they tug me through the building, yanking every so often on my arms. At the court, question after question are hissed at me. I breathe in, knowing this is the last time I will breathe outside air, and begin to answer slowly, calmly. Regardless of the truth, they already seem to have decided my fate. I know my family sits nearby, a mere twenty feet away, but I dare not venture a glance. From the corner of my eyes, I watch as my mother rests, so still and stoic one might mistake her for a statue. At the sound of the jury, my brother’s head drops. I knew I never stood a chance.

Alone I sit, suffocating in the near-silence to the sound of the ticking clock on the wall. There had been too much evidence. Nothing to protect me from the sharp slices each piteous glance made in my heart. Nothing to defend me from the shame placed upon me for a murder I did not commit. It doesn’t matter that I did not know about it, had never heard of the victim; I will spend the rest of my life in this place, this white-washed prison.

Every day is the same; breakfast, lunch, dinner, sleep. Everyday I remain on my bed, legs crossed, eyes on the white wall, locked away within the prison of my own mind. There is nothing to do but think, always think. And no visitors; I never receive any visitors.

The Moreau Manor.

This is part 1 of an ongoing series I'm doing. :D

It was cold. empty and cold. To be fair it was raining outside. But this was a different type of cold, I could feel it in my soul. A dark looming presence that invaded something I used to call home. All the furniture, appliances, and clutter were completely gone. The rooms were locked. Even hers. Granny always said that the house was filled with mysteries, curses, blessings, and even secret rooms. No one believed her of course, I chose not to believe her but something inside me screams that she was telling the truth. I mean.. what other than a curse can cause the tragic calamity that rained and assaulted my family?

I promised. I promised her I would never come back. But when I found out that I inherited this very manor, I couldn't control it. It felt like it was beckoning me to come home. To solve whatever the mystery this house once held was.

When I stepped inside everything was cleared out. The living room, the guest room, and the dining room. All except the kitchen. I don't know whether or not the rooms we used to live in were also cleared out. I'd have to check soon. The kitchen was dirty. Piled high with unwashed dishes, rats scurrying across the floor, Food leftover in the fridge that hasn't been cleaned out since I left. But there were a few letters both hung on the fridge and scattered across the counters.

One read: "Evelynn, please. You cannot keep everyone here. It is best if you let them go and move on. For all our sakes." Signed, Frank. Another said: "Frank. If you have something to say, say it to my face. Do NOT scribble it on a piece of paper before you leave for work. Coward." Signed, Evelynn

My grandmother's name is Evelynn. And Frank is my Uncle. I've lived here for years yet I never realized any tension between them. Could this be after I left? Or perhaps I was just too young to recognize it?

I picked up more letters and decided to decipher my question. "You know I don't have time to stick around. Listen, everyone here is only going to suffer the longer we stay. I know you miss him but it's not worth risking the happiness of our family." Signed, Frank. "You have all the time in the world when you get home. Yet you choose to ignore your family and close yourself off in your room. You have NO RIGHT to judge me when you yourself have never done anything to interact with our family. We are staying. That is final." Signed, Evelynn

The rest of the letters that I found were either burnt or scratched out. As if someone did not want anyone else to read what happened between them.

I pondered for a moment, trying to understand what Uncle Frank meant by 'Everyone is going to suffer the longer we stay.' and 'I know you miss him but it's not worth the happiness of our family.' It didn't make sense, our family was happy here. What could he possibly mean? Does he know something we don't?

My grandmother was always a happy lady. A cheerful force of nature that could brighten everyone's day. So why was she arguing so deeply with Uncle Frank?

It seems I might have to delve a little deeper to uncover the mysteries of this house. Along with the secrets my family might have kept from me.

The one on the top is the old one,

The one on the bottom is the new one!

!!PLEASE DON'T TAKE MARKIS' CHARACTER DESIGN OR DAWN'S!!

I thought I would redraw these 2 bc I freaking love them!

I cannot truly say my younger self would be disappointed of present me and future her because I do not know her I never will get the chance to know her because she herself no longer exists

I love you, you know

I love when you kiss me in public

I love when you show me off and love me loudly

you do not care who sees

You do not care what any of them think

Or what they might say

Your focus is entirely on me

And I love it

I love how you always hold my hand when we are walking

You tell me I'm pretty even when I do not know how to respond

I love that you are so sure about me

I love that we have let each other go and yet we still came back to one another

It means it's real

That you could see how bad I self sabotage my own happiness

And how want me anyway

And chose me anyway

You have picked me over all the other girls you may have liked before

I love it

And I love you

Even if I do not know how to say itI hope you know it deep down

I love you

I love us

How tall are some of the characters

that's a good question! I've actually thought about it before, so here's the list of their heights and ages!

Mark: 5'3, 30

Angelo: 4'9, 28

Charlotte: 4'7, 27

Dylan: 6'1, 31

Phil: 5'5 ft, 29

(There are other characters too, I just gotta conceptualize them first)

(repost of the mindtrap switch with better images)

(hi tumblr I've been dead agaaainnn) so buncha things:

1. my MT! AU is now it's own project: Mindtrapped! (very creative I know)

2. Most characters have received redesigns and here's the list of their new names!

MT-Peppino -> Mark Aaituti (yeah he's samoan now)

MT Theo/Noise -> Angelo Adlawan

MT-Hazel/Noisette -> Charlotte Uzuki

MT-Vigi -> Dylan Amspoker

MT-Phil/Pepperman -> Phil Mcree (yeah no change in the name lol)

ANYHOW what use are these names if not without faces??? so here they are, new and improved (1st: Mark, 2nd: Angelo, 3rd: Charlotte, 4th: Phil, 5th: Dylan)

Repost Update: currently trying to reorganize my blog so it's not as sloppy and stuff, again it's been like forever and I finally waa able to get most of their references and lore done! my ask box is always open andddd I look forward to your questions!

I am unique, but I am not different

I am separate, but I fit in

I have my own views, but I am not ignorant

I am not too curvy, but I am not too thin

I am not too quiet, but never have I shouted

I am who they want me to be, but I cannot conform

I am compared over and over, I am constantly doubted

I am not allowed to over express myself, yet I am expected to perform

They boo and they cheer

I cry and I sneer

They beg and they demand

I conform although I do not understand

I do not know what more they desire

I do not know what less they need

I do not know how to put out this fire

I do not know how much now remains still me

It spreads and it burns

No matter how much I fight, it always returns

And I yearn, and I yearn, and I yearn

But deep inside I’ve always known

That in attempts to reach their impossible throne

I will inevitably be left alone

They think they know me

They think they can control who I will turn out to be

They think that eventually they’ll find the pearl

If they can pressure me into the role of that perfect teenage girl

I highly recommend buying this outfit for Skarlet 😳she’s so cute!

Here’s some Skarlet screenies I took!

you are a god.

you weave fate into constellations, threading tapestries of destinies. you breathe life into dying kingdoms, and let thriving ones burn. it has been this way for eons, unchanging, as most gods are. it does not matter what wars are waged, or which immortal dies, for the gods never change. perhaps that is why you take such pleasure in granting human wishes.

your crown is made of stars, each one a dream undreamed. when they fall, hundreds of wishes are granted, and yet only some would be worth anything. for the humans wish, and then they revolt against tyrants, against lords, against entities more than they could ever know. you watch on from above, amused.

change has always been a god’s undoing.

me: haaa maybe I should skip doing a Halloween special this year. I have no ideas coming at me. writers block galore.

comment I recieved this morning on Autumn Howls: I love the variety! If you did something this year, I'd look forward to it!

me: FUCK I HAVE TO WRITE NOW

The Lone Knight

A Dark Souls inspired OC