#journal entry kinda

[szynkaaa]

His travel companion asked him if it really was necessary to kill every single enemy they encounter, so he decided to push the yaoguai back into the ground

based on the One Piece scene with Luffy and a zombie

[dreadfullyinquisitive]

"You know, one good thing about the AMA is how it brings people together."

[theatrum-tenebrarum]

Lampyris noctiluca (common European glow-worm) commonplace entry. ☀️

Did you know that the organic molecule called 'luciferin' is in part responsible for the fireflies' bioluminescence? Yes, it got its name after the mythical light-bringer, Lucifer 🤍✴️

-Heidi 🖤 (@theatrum-tenebrarum)

[southernroach]

thinking of roach's coping mechanisms and i kinda think that he would have a log of all of his scars. maybe in his journal, written along the edges as if they were afterthoughts to his actual entries.

the first couple entries are clinical. they list:

the body part

the general weapon type (gun, knife, rope, whatever)

if he got revenge

all the usual stuff that he would find important

just enough to document them, in case they fade or to use as a story for later. every time he dots a period, it's with a warped sense of pride.

and then one day he gets a scar from someone protecting him. they had pushed roach out of the way a second after someone screams about a sniper through their comms and takes a bullet. roach ends up falling onto his own knife and gets sliced for it but that’s nothing compared to his savior.

when he goes to write the entry, it’s noticeably shakier, scribbled over and smudged like he couldn’t decide what to write and then got far too frustrated for what should be gratitude.

he’s seen people die but it’s never been for him. he makes sure that guy’s name is clear, makes sure the ink dries before allowing his hands to touch the page.

then another one happens. an enemy tosses a cooked grenade. they have a split second to react and the guy upfront turns around, looks him in the eye, and slams his palms into roach’s chest.

roach crashes to the ground, barely notices that he got hit with a nasty piece of debris until he’s crouched behind a wall and realizes that what’s dripping down his body is too hot, too thick, to be sweat. and another entry appears.

the scar, the location, his savior’s name. how it felt to look someone in the eye moments before death, knowing again that it was for him. another messy entry, cut only by the pristine printing of those names.

he’s lucky he doesn’t have to write one for every close call but even those have lost that naive arrogance from before.

the more it happens, the more he survives and other don’t, the less it becomes about the scars.

[heliomanteia]

In my universe this is a "taps the sign" but for elves

[sleepinglionhearts]

Hobonichi updates 🖊 📖

[ljubimaya]

One day I will learn how to draw me and B*ji, and some of mymoots's selfships

[king-midas-fortnite]

📿

Journal Entry

Ask: A dream your character believes is prophetic

I have this dream so often. I have had it hundreds of times since Jules was born, and I'm likely to continue having it for the rest of my life. 

I know what is coming every time the dream begins, and yet I am powerless to stop it. The painful irony in how little I am able to sleep these days, but yet somehow never being able to wake myself from it in time. 

Jules comes to me in this dream while I am standing in the same spot I was with Marigold. I am in the field behind our home, my hands brushing against the plants there as I go, turning the overgrown weeds to precious metal. I am trying to reign in control over the curse when she reaches me. 

There are only a couple things that change.

Sometimes Jules is young, my little girl just barely taller than my knee. Sometimes she's the young woman she is today. 

Sometimes, I reach for Jules just as I had my first daughter. My body moving as if I don't know I will kill her as I did that day despite my mind screaming in anguish to stop.

Sometimes, I try to back away from her, warn her.

The end does not change.

Whether I embrace her or she reaches for my hands to comfort her selfish husk of a father, I kill her. Just like Marigold, her skin turns cold and lifeless under my own, and her body glistens under the midday sun so horrendously beautiful as if her death by my hands is not an atrocity. 

Sometimes her face is frozen in pain, sometimes an expression of anguished betrayal, and sometimes it is placid. As if she knew it would happen. 

Regardless, I am only ever able to wake after I look at her from on my knees. 

I have to believe that this dream is a manifestation of my guilt. In much the same way the Underworld's shades used it to torment me in the visions they inflicted on my undead mind that could not sleep, it is my soul reminding me what I lost. What I still stand to lose. 

Marigold has told me as such when I have confided in her. (And how cruel fate is that I know a version of myself that bares her name. I care deeply for the woman, but saying that name aloud for a person never gets easier.) I have to believe this to be true. 

However, I can't. Not fully. There will always be a part of me that believes it's a sign that I am destined--cursed, to repeat the same mistake. To kill the person I love the most. It is why I stayed distant from Jules most of her life. I still largely regret my conscious decision to miss out on her formative years, but I also wonder if she only turned out as good as she is because I wasn't there after all. 

I want to be closer to her now. I am trying to be, but I am still afraid that this dream is more of a prophecy. I will always be afraid until it either happens, or I die again and she is truly safe from me.

Reminder: these are not "public" to other Tumblrverse characters. Okay to reblog, but please do not roleplay on journal entries!

[mephiles-the-jester]

billford fankids,,,,they dont have names yet,and also explaining their backstory is convoluted when i type it out,,,so im just putting them on the screen for now because i think theyre neat

[burbs-are-fake]

There's something about hands

Pulling a thing-

A machine

A tool-

Apart

Gently,

Oh so gently,

And putting it together again

Better

Fixing it by breaking it

With attention

With care

Yes, something about hands

And the want-

For hinges

a motor-

To be pulled apart

In the same way

[cryolyst]

~

[crediblebombthreat]

had a day off about a week ago. walked around the city, looking around in the white woman boutiques and buying an overpriced coffee. didn't want to sit inside so I decided to sip my coffee out in the center of the square. a bird hopped out from the brush and looked at me in the eyes, expectantly. I jokingly said "nah i ain't got nothin on me brother" and it chirped real fuckin loud and then hopped away. ???

[shadowwizdaily]

The Shadow Wizards of the Day are Spellcasting Heartless from the Kingdom Hearts series!

[technicolorxsn]

love how there are pretentious video essays that just repeat the book and meander and ramble about house of leaves. it's what zampanó would have wanted. it is not, however, what I want

[yuuugay]

The bunny project

Wanless Journal entry #23

My day wasn't supposed to end up in a wild chase to find that stuffed rabbit Caine lost. (Note: Give the kid advice on how to not lose his things. Or other people's things.)

We did end up finding the rabbit near a bunch of small cats who tore that stuffed animal to it's last threads. I said to the kid to take it back, but Caine insisted his friend, Claire, wouldn't mind. Why he made that decision without Claire's input, I don't know. Nevertheless, I just offered to make him a new one. He was skeptical that I could sew and make things because in his words, "You just don't look like the type of man to do, like, crafty things, you know?". Like yeah, whatever that means. But I couldn't help but check my appearance earlier and I still don't get his point. But who cares, I don't know what someone "crafty" is supposed to look like.

But alas, it happened. And it...wasn't bad. The kid was happy. He gave me some weird card of Tallys(?) as a reward, which I just stuffed in my pocket. I was more annoyed he put his ENTIRE NAME on that damn board. Careless brat. Did no one teach him that his name could be used against him?

(Note: Force Red to give Caine lessons on magical name manipulation.)

Either way, I haven't gotten to sew anything for a while now that I have enough money not to refurbish clothes, so I might've pricked my fingers a few times. I had to use my only pillow to make that rabbit, but that's not really relevant, I'm used to sleeping on a flat surface most of the time anyways. Shery looked at me some weird way when I mentioned that fact, just like the time she found me sleeping on the floor one day. But her concern is not of my concern.

Gods, that girl cares too much.

But to end this stupid journal, that Shery, once again, somehow convinced me that I should do.

It...was fun. As long as he's happy, I'm hap- Why is this so embarrassing to write? It's not like anyone's gonna read this kak but me. I set up multiple enchantments so no one, especially Caine could find and open this book. Not that I'd expect him to read through people's things. He's a good kid.

[itsawildsaltychip]

Where's Jordyn? They're usually up at this hour, are they still in bed...? (Jordyn as my OC not disposable girl 😭)

Not a vent post but something I drew during my flight back home because I realized there's no angst art for ANY of my OCs whatsoever.

The words on the drawing are from the journal entry of Fainéant Girl from the niche vocaloid song series, The Post Traumatic Manifesto.