#Tbh I might still end up writing it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr has a low social media market share in South America.

#Tbh I might still end up writing it

amethystina · 16 days

Text

Strangers From Hell fans, I have a question

So. I've so far only written one fic for the fandom but I do have an idea for a second one. My problem is that a couple of weeks after I had come up with it, I found that someone had already written a very similar fic (that I ended up reading).

The basic premise is an AU where Moon Jo ran away from Mrs. Eom's orphanage and maybe isn't quite as unhinged as he is in canon. I mean, he's still Moon Jo, obviously, so he won't necessarily be good, but it would explore the whole "nature vs. nurture" thing, and see where someone like him might end up if he got away from a person who was clearly a bad influence on him.

So my question is if you all think it's too specific of a concept for me to write about, too? Or can I get away with saying it's my take on the same idea? Or should I link to the other fic (which I admit I don't have on hand right now but can no doubt find again) and explain that we just happened to come up with the same concept, but I'm not trying to copy them?

I suspect that the stories will hit a couple of the same beats but, from what I remember, there will still be quite a few differences. If nothing else because of different writing styles, characterisation, etc.

What do you think?

#Strangers From Hell #MJJW #Amethystina Writes #Or technically not I suppose #I'm trying to figure out if I should xD #Because a part of me wants to #But I don't want to make it seem like I'm stealing someone else's idea #I'm just REALLY fascinated by the thought of writing a Moon Jo who developed outside of Mrs. Eom's influence #I admit that the story would be less bloody than Until Death Do Us Unite #Well #I mean #There would still be murders #But not quite as many? xD #Tbh I might still end up writing it #Just for fun #So I guess the real question is if I should POST it #So yeah #Please let me know what you think!

27 notes · View notes

tei-to-tei · 1 year

Text

so... had kind of a rough week

decided to haphazardly finish some fanart i sketched for @douchegrayson's ROTTMNT fic, Hold On, Pain Ends

this is based on a scene from Chapter 6, but I'd hate to spoil

anyway it's a wonderful read, written by my very first online turtle friend ;u; she also has another ROTTMNT story Saudade that i think people should check out if they want to~

P.S: potential internet strangers, it's okay if you prefer to erase some of the text if you decide you want to reblog this, but if you do could you please leave the links to the fic?

thank you <3

#rottmnt #ao3 fanart #rise donnie #rise raph #i don't really know how to tag this tbh #plz ignore the shoddy coloring i finished this while on hold with a bank #aki thank you for writing such a cute story ok?#and for keeping up with mine as often as you do <3 you're the best #for those of you still reading these tags #i might end up still posting more ao3 fanart before the animatic #im sorry #i can't help it #teidoodle

85 notes · View notes

ambalambs · 9 months

Text

I ended up writing a little something on Asra for once and maybe its late enough now I dont have to be embarrassed to post it and have too many people see it xD but idk I just felt like sharing cuz he's fun to explore and ive been consumed with his voidsent's backstory lately. Again im not good at writing but im having fun with it :'D also Leon belongs to the lovely @e-dragoons u3u

Asra finally slumped himself down against one of the many trees on the Sharlyan campus. It was a particularly warm day so the shade was welcome. He took a brief moment to take in the scenery, the sounds of the nearby river rushing along, the birds in the tree above him, the wind in the reeds and leaves. For a moment if he closed his eyes he could almost trick himself into believing he was back home in the forest.

But reminiscing was not why he was here. He quickly gathered up the reeds he'd harvested and set about weaving himself a basket. It was a silly thing to be doing really, what with the more modern cultures having plenty of shops with baskets already fully made and available for purchase. But Asra needed something to occupy his time. Leon and the rest of the scions were conducting their heroic daring-do in the library and he was of no use in such an environment. Probably more of a distraction really. So he resigned to a moment to himself on the grounds and once these reeds growing by the river had caught his eye he knew exactly how to waste his time.

He expertly began to braid and weave the strands together in smooth and quick motions. It had been some time since he'd made anything quite like this but the fingers never forget and as he let them do the work his mind was left to wander.

He was suddenly reminded of the time he made his first basket. He was so young, a small kit at the time. His older sister had sat him down and helped teach him claiming they had to hurry up and make some while the berries in the meadow were ripe.

Thinking back now it seemed like such silly timing for a lesson when they should've just gotten already made baskets if they were in such a hurry.

But at the time he was too young to question it. So he followed her instructions as best he could and crafted a basket of incredibly questionable durability. But he was so proud and his sister seemed satisfied enough with his work that the two immediately set out to gather their quarry.

Once their baskets were filled to the brim, although some berries being consumed along the harvest, they began to make their way back to the village. But tragedy struck when the bottom of Asra's basket had come completely unraveled, spilling the entire contents of the berries within. It was only then did he realize he had been leaving a trail of berries along the entire trail and had been stepping on them the entire way. Feeling heartbroken at the loss and embarrassment that only a young child can experience, Asra had begun to cry. His sister had quickly ran to his aid and did what she could to dry his tears and gather whatever berries could be salvaged into her own basket. She somehow managed to calm him down enough to guide them the rest of the way back home and by then Asra had calmed down and the two were able to sit and enjoy the berries from his sister's basket. As they munched and Asra observed his destroyed basket mournfully, his sister promised to help him get it right the next time.

Asra smiled softly at the memory. Such a memory of his sister brought up others then. Small moments in their childhood. Most happy, some sad, some just silly. Moments that felt like an entire lifetime ago.

"You miss her." Asra jumped slightly at the familiar and unwanted voice inside his head. He suddenly realized his lapse of focus in the moment. Moments like this when he almost feels as though he's alone and forgets to keep the wall up in himself against his unwanted passenger were rare. He quickly ran a check over that wall and catching the small window that had formed within it. The wall itself was still firm, keeping the creature at bay on the other side. But it was there and it was watching and had gotten a full view of his reminiscing.

Asra paused in his weaving then and did a quick scan about his surroundings. It didn't seem like anyone was around to hear his mad ramblings so he judged it was safe to respond outloud.

"I do, yes," he said softly. Funny how responding to the voidsent lurking in his mind aloud made him feel less crazy. Anyone to witness though would no doubt feel otherwise.

There was a pause then. Asra held his breath as he waited for that brief wave of exhaustion to run over him. The telltale sign of the voidsent feeding off his own aether while his emotions were full of sadness and longing for those halcyon days. However that feeling didn't come and Asra, though suspicious, let out the breath.

"You claim to miss her but that seems awfully silly with how you little rabbits live," the voice finally continued. Its voice was uncharacteristically casual. Although in hindsight it had been as such more often lately, Asra noted. "When I found you hadn't you already left her?"

Briefly Asra tried not to think about the moment it had "found him" so he quickly shoved that memory down. He instead looked out at the water in the river before him rushing by, chewing his cheek in thought.

"It's different now, I think," Asra began. "Before, its tradition and my duty to return home every few years so it was always guaranteed I'd see her again. But now..."

Asra paused. Now...yes what about now? He glanced in the direction of the library. He thought about Leon then. Of all the places they'd already journeyed, the lives they'd saved, the lands they'd seen that he could never have dreamed existed. Before, when he was first burdened with this occursed creature bound to his soul, he believed he was still serving his duty to his tribe by taking the danger with him out of the wood. He even kept his forest name in the foolish belief that he hadn't technically left the wood if he was still protecting it by leaving. But things were different now. Felt different. The thought of leaving Leon and the scions caused more pain in his heart than the thought of never returning home now.

"But now it's harder knowing I may never return at all. That it means I really will never see her again," Asra continued. He waited again for that feeling of the voidsent feeding knowing this wave of emotions was ripe for the picking for it. But again nothing came.

After a moment the creature spoke again, "I see..."

Suddenly a flash of a memory that was not his struck Asra like a lightning bolt. He jerked at the suddenness of it, his hands gripping the half made basket in his hands. It was just a moment of a memory. As if he was looking briefly through another's eyes at a young man. His hair jet black, his eyes a soft green. He'd seen eyes like that before. They were a near match to the ones he'd seen belonging to his unwanted passenger but instead of the pale sickly green that matched that of moss on a pale corpse, these were soft. A color more akin to grass dusted by the frost of an early dawn. The young man was looking back at him and he flashed a bright grin, a laugh escaping him. Asra felt like he had to squint just looking at him. The man was so bright. Like he was a beacon of light.

But then there was a cascading wave of emotions that came crashing down upon him all at once.

Love. Admiration. Pride. Hope. Love. Pain. Loss. Grief. Grief. Grief. Love. Hollow. Anger. Betrayal. Hate. Rage. Rage. RAGE. RAGE.

And then there was one word that almost seemed to scream through his mind: Brother.

Just as quickly as the flash appeared it was suddenly yanked away. Asra gasped audibly at the abrupt absence of it, gasping for breath that he didnt realize he had been holding. It felt as if someone had struck him across the head and he was reeling as he tried to recover. It was only then did he realize the loud hiss that was ringing in his head. Asra found himself reaching out for that wall between them in his mind and felt himself recoil. It was not just the wall he had made now, no. There was a darkness enshrouding it, keeping himself at bay.

"I-I'm sorry," Asra stammered, not exactly sure what he was apologizing for. The brief moment of accessing a memory he wasn't supposed to see? For whatever caused these emotions that were clearly the voidsent's from a life before?

"Keep your pity, little rabbit, and leave me be," the voidsent snarled. The casual nature of his words before were now gone and the familiar animalistic venom had returned. Asra winced at the volume of it as it rang through his mind.

He tried to take a moment to compose himself then. Steadying his breathing and recollecting his thoughts. There had been times when the voidsent had let its own memories slip through. They were mostly ones of its mortal life, moments of its cruelty even then. They were never like this though. Something unbidden and so rich with emotions. So strong.

Finally after a moment of silence Asra glanced down at the crushed basket in his still tight grip. He relaxed his fists and tried to smooth out the weaves, finally sighing heavily as the tension in his mind began to calm. The voidsent was silent, curled within a corner behind the wall it had reinforced. Asra chewed on his lip a moment.

"Im sorry...It's hard losing someone you care about," he said. Not really sure why he felt the need to say it considering all the torment this creature had put him through. But all the same whoever that man the memory was, he...was good. Asra had felt certain of that and the man deserved some kind of word.

The only reply Asra received was a guttural snarl. He half expected more. Maybe a tear at his aether but again surprisingly nothing came.

Asra waited a bit longer, the silence becoming painfully obvious that this would be the end of their exchange for the day. He took one final glance at the library and the surrounding area around him self consciously hoping nobody witnessed whatever it was he just experienced. When it seemed he was in the clear he quickly straightened himself up against the tree, wiped the tears that were not his from his eyes, and tried his best to return to crafting the basket in his hands.

#might end up deleting this tbh im so self conscious of my writing lol #still have that feeling where i feel silly about posting stuff too lol but alas #throws this into the void and runs away #lambs tries writing #asra fyth #oc ramblings: asra #final fantasy xiv

8 notes · View notes

creaturefeaster · 1 year

Note

I remember a while back you talked about color quest writing and that you were going to share the story by the end of the year. Is this still happening? I know you have a lot on your plate Im just so curious

Oh, it is definitely still happening! Probably a little later because of some really unforseen events o_o but, monthsssss of work have already been put into this iteration of the story, and I'd really like to get out at least a small chunk of the beginning out to you guys by maybe January or February.

I think the biggest hurdle is figuring out the best way to share it with people. That, and I want to include some visuals here and there where I can in the written form, so I have to be mindful of that as well. Much to think about still.

#I might end up asking for some help with drawing up visuals tbh #because even though I'm trying to go light on drawing bc of carpal tunnel #it's still. A LOT. to draw even sparsely #so i have to go through the additional process of seeking out help at some point. if that is even plausible.#ugh + bluh but I'm not gonna think abt that so early in the morning #I'm just excited about how the story has finaally solidified #its taken years since the restructure. but it's so much more... comprehensible from when i was like 14 #my ass really jumped into this huge story writing project at that age with NO prior storywriting experience #and it showed soooo hard #to me at least. idk. i know some people liked it but i was never satisfied.#OKAY RAMBLE OVER THIS IS TOO LONG #brambleramble

31 notes · View notes

notthestarwar · 1 year

Text

Snippet from: When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. Chapter 5

Ghost Mace speaks to past Jaster (alive) and tells him what he knows of Jango's future, in the life he lived.

Mace's brow stiffened. "When we realised what we had done, we tried to find him but we could not."

"We tried to find the True Mandolorian's but the survivors had fled in all directions. We did try and see justice done, there was an overhaul of our internal mission preparation process. We changed our training. Dooku left the order as did his apprentice."

"None of it could make up for what we did. Years after the fact, I learnt that Jango was sold in to slavery by the governor. It took him years to escape. I learnt of the weight of what we had done in helping end the True Mandolorian's. In leaving Death Watch unchecked."

He meets Jaster's eyes. "We are here to discuss why we haunt Jango, but it would be remiss of me to not tell you that your son has haunted me every single day since the day I left on a mission to retrieve him; to attempt to offer reparations for what my peoples neglect brought down on him, and came home empty handed."

" We thought him dead, but I did not forget him. From that day, I've carried the weight of what we did to him. I have often thought of him over the years." Mace shook his head.

"You hold no blame here, but we just might."

And isn't that a thing. His son haunting a Jedi even before that Jedi might haunt him.

Jango is tangled up in something here far beyond Jaster's reckoning.

Mace is laying out the constituent parts that when put together, make Jango in to the man that is responsible for the death of every single person standing in that warehouse. Jaster isn't sure where that leaves him, because once he's done hearing this story, in the years that lay ahead of them yet, every single one of these horrible pieces is going to fall in to place. Tragedy after Tragedy ready to be pasted and slapped on to the boy he loves, his son, in order to make him in to the man that did this.

How the hell can Jaster stand by and let that happen?

There are no rules that apply to Jaster, not anymore. He doesn't care about morality or the ethics of fucking with a future that's apparently already happened. He has no care for his own code, not now. None of it matters.

Jaster is Jango's buir, before all else. He has been from the day he stepped in to a smoldering farmhouse and against the odds saw signs of life dancing across his HUD. The Ka'ra gave him Jango and by god, it can stand back while he brings his son back from the abyss.

Mace is watching him. "Jaster, you had no hand in making Jango Fett the man he became at the end. You did not abandon him, you were taken from him. I need you to know this. You should know that none of this was your fault. "

Jaster doesn't care. It doesn't matter if its his fault or not, he is responsible all the same; because he wants to be. He didn't fall in to parenthood, he walked in to it willingly. For Jango, there is no monster that Jaster will not face.

The ka'ra has given him one last gift. The opportunity to see Jango's life after Jaster, and a few precious years in which to try and change them. It may not be in Jaster's power to save his son from himself but by god, he'll die trying.

He looks at the Jedi. "Tell me the rest."

Some of my thoughts below the cut

Some of my thoughts (because clearly rambling in the comments hasn't been enough for me lol)

I had a lot of fun with this one. I've written about ghosts before but with this one, I went at it from another angle. In this au, ghosts aren't bound by linear time. If you do something that leaves a ghost tied to your soul, they are tied to you in the past as well as the future. Jango and Jaster are both Force Sensitive (tho with a Mando understanding of it. They call it 'star touched') and so can see ghosts.

In this fic, moving in with Jaster sets Jango on the path that brings him to the prequels. Once he's on that path, the ghosts that'll be tied to him in his future, can move freely along the timeline, with each of them pulled to a particular version of Jango. Jango will obviously be responsible for the deaths of quite a few people, there are his bounties, the Jedi and the clones and so on; but when the first ghost appears he's just a kid. The story deals with Jaster coming to terms with the fact that his kid, who he loves beyond reason, even if he stumbled upon him quite by accident, one day becomes the person that will make all these ghosts.

At first there's only one ghost in their time, but Jaster can't let it go (tho he knows he should), he needs to know what happens. So he keeps asking until she admits that she isn't the only ghost and that they are tied to Jango as he's responsible for their deaths. Then, he keeps pushing until she introduces him to the others. She gathers them in a warehouse (so Jango doesn't see) and takes Jaster there.

In the part of the story this snippet is from, Jaster has just been confronted with an excessive number of people (including children) who are all tied to Jango as he's responsible for their deaths. He's had a (understandable) freak out, and ghost Mace has taken him aside and offered to tell him what he knows of Jango's future, and how it led to the death of so many people.

What follows is a buddy up adventure between Mace and Jaster (unlikely duo) in which Jaster tries to come to terms with what Mace has told him, and the horrible events that led to Jango becoming the man that would one day be responsible for all these ghosts. While he tries to save Jango from himself, long before he needs saving.

The idea behind the fic is the inevitability of a tragedy. There's a feeling when you're watching a tragedy play out, that it's all so unnecessary, that it didn't need to happen, but you only know that because as the audience you know that they are in a tragedy, the characters don't know. So what if a character did know? Jaster is served advance notice, will having that allow him to save Jango, or will it just feed in to the fulfillment of this prophetic future?

I wanted to explore the fact that there's only so much one particular character can do, in trying to prevent the end another is headed towards and also, the power of familial love, even when it's found somewhere unexpected. Jaster isn't Jango's blood family, he didn't even know him till he was an older child, which I think makes his love for Jango in spite of knowing what he will become, all the more powerful. The glimpse of Jango's future is disgusting to Jaster, it goes against all he believes in, but its Jango so he can't hate him for it, he loves him too much and so, he's determined to save him from himself. He's willing to do the impossible.

Then there's Mace: so in this au, Mace is sent out shortly after Galidraan, when it becomes clear to the order that they've made a mistake, to find the survivor they left in the hands of the Governor, and to right a wrong. He isn't successful, he looks everywhere but he can't find him, and in the end the order write him off as dead. In this au, Jango was 18 on Galidraan and what Mace sees as his failure to save someone that was little more as a child, and suffered so greatly thanks to what the order see as their own neglect, haunts him for the rest of his career.

Its that idea of 'the one case you couldn't close'. It's at the start of his career and he goes on to do amazing things, Mace is peak Jedi, he invents a new form, he's one of the youngest Jedi to be elected to the council, he ends up heading that council, but he is still human (or near human lol sw complicates everything. he's 100% human in a fallible/emotional/sapient sense) I think that as a Master Jedi he's very aware of his own weaknesses, and he tries to work through it, he talks to it with other Jedi, and he certainly doesn't let it affect his judgement, but he can't forget it all the same.

So it's this version of Mace that ended up meeting Jango in the arena. Which I think adds such an interesting angle.

#Jaster Mereel #Mace #I've been thinking about this one (and a part of chapter 7 which i might post as another snippet)#cause i saw a poll talking about who was responsible for Jango's death and I've got a lot of opinions about that #that can not be contained by a poll lol. it's something i explored in this fic #pretty much. i think that Mace had no choice but i don't think he'd agree with that. i think he'd struggle with having killed Jango and #how he killed him. (decapitation. a particularly violent move. which i don't think he had a choice in. but yeah think he'd struggle)#i think that Jango pretty much ensured his own end and was too intelligent to not realise he was doing that so i think that was a #self hatred/survivors guilt/'i have lived past my end' kind of thing #i also think that Jango was only the person that always would have brought death upon himself like that because his past made him so #and i think his past was bad enough to make him that because it suited the greater narrative to have him end up like that #it suited palps ends pretty much. did palps know he was doing that or did the universe just work in his favour? who knows.#still worked out well for him #the poll got me thinking about Mace which got me thinking about this fic but writing about the fic has me thinking about this fic again #kinda tempted to go through it again and give it a bit of a face lift. old once over. shine it up a bit #I've always hated that it's 17 chapters tbh. want it to be 15 or 20. i don't think I'll address that this time tho.#might just try an edit however #has this???? no i won't say it. not to curse it but... the editing/ read back block may... be shifting. possibly.#considering an edit hadn't seemed so possible in a while.#there are so many things i need to look over once i can lol I've posted things still in draft state #that's cool tho. no problem. not thinking about that just thinking about how nice it would be to give this old thing a shine #Mace is so ready here to absorb all the blame for everything on the order (and by extension him) but its really not on them

10 notes · View notes

hopefromadoomedtimeline · 10 months

Text

Sometimes he wondered if he deserved a break. If he could allow himself to sleep and take it easy while someone else saves people from danger. He, just for once, could have someone else take the plethora of responsibilities that came with being the world’s last defender.

Only a single day. That’d all it be. Even an hour would suffice and then he’d make up for it by putting in twice as much effort as before. But that was him being selfish, wasn’t it? Selfish thoughts for a man who wanted to do nothing more than rest.

That was far too generous for someone like him.

He was exhausted. And he was alone. And he knew no one else would help if he didn’t. He also knew that even if he wanted to he would never be able to ignore the anguished cries of those fleeing for their lives and desperate pleas out for someone to save them.

Was there anyone out there that was going to save him? If he should fall, would anyone catch him? If he were to cry out for help, would anyone answer his call?

More selfish thoughts. He’s their savior, they’re not his.

He can rest when it’s over, no matter how long it takes.

Still... part of him wonders how nice it would be just to close his eyes for a little while.

Everyone was a little selfish from time to time, weren’t they?

Perhaps there was a day where he could afford to be selfish.

...He looked forward to that day.

#drabble tag #tbh this was gonna be me writing an open for trunks #and i still might do that this was just something i ended up writing a small little ditty

14 notes · View notes

silhouettecrow · 10 months

Text

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 189

Adjective: Resonant

Noun: Moon

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Resonant: (of sound) deep, clear, and continuing to sound or ring; (of a place) filled or resounding with (a sound); having the ability to evoke or suggest enduring images, memories, or emotions; (of a room, musical instrument, or hollow body) tending to reinforce, or prolong sounds, especially by synchronous vibration; (technical) relating to or bringing about resonance in a circuit, atom, or other object; (of a color) enhancing or enriching another color or colors by contrast

Moon: the natural satellite of the earth, visible (chiefly at night) by reflected light from the sun; a natural satellite of any planet; (literary) (humourous) a month; anything that one could desire

#im rather late this time cos my gf and i got home pretty late #and then we still had to eat before going to bed #and tbh i did end up falling asleep for a bit before getting around to making this #but i find this prompt rather interesting #especially since one of the combos of definitions basically boils down to 'the moon makes noise'#which i find fascinating (and i would probably take it to mean more specifically that 'the moon is singing')#so i might have it figured out what direction i want to take this prompt #thanks for reading #writing #writer #creative writing #writing prompt #writeblr #trying to be a writeblr at least

2 notes · View notes

taonpest · 1 year

Text

I was 11 when I started drawing more seriously. And I drew one (1) shitty comic page and I thought to myself "gosh this is so SO hard I'm never doing that again" look at me now I'm making that mistake a hundred times

#my stupid thoughts #I'm not 100% making it #I couldn't write shit tbh skksks #but still #anyway uh #if this isn't another sign that I'm a masochist skskskskks #making this comic is a lot of suffering but also a lot of pleasure #(reassuring everyone who might be worried)#I'm always aiming for perfect and I shouldn't because I always end up disappointing myself ksskks #I'll try to be less perfect

4 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

winesoakedwool

#SheepLit

coast-edits

COAST EDITS

saintphilomena

𓃹

art-pieces-i-had-laying-around

Cream Cheese Frosted Jackalope

art-pieces-i-had-laying-around

Cream Cheese Frosted Jackalope