Latest Posts by dwoality2123 - Page 8
Just thinking back to "Eyewitness" and the amount of patience Philip had, putting up with Lukas' dumbfuckery. But, seriously, I love Philip Shea's character.
"You're into me, that's what's happening."
— Philip Shea
There was no clear time to be told. No exact date, exact time, exact moment that would be able to tell people. It was this...
Poison.
This slow killing poison that settles in the gaps of your jonts, the spaces in your muscles. It flows with your blood, following the set trail set by the veins. Until it reaches your brain.
If you asked, you would not be given a clear answer as to when everything cleared up and the thought came.
It was something that was planted long before the time came. It slowly blossomed, the poison as its water that tarnishes the soil it growing on.
It seeps into your being, poisonous, inky black blob of venom that crawled into the crevices of your body, your orfices and settled into you. Blending in with the crowd in your system until it leaked into your soul, painted your heart, manipulated your mind.
It was the blueish, the purplish, the disgusting array of colors that appeared on your skin as the bruised formed from another hit from an unloving and unlovable and disgusting and cruel and demonic hand. It was the bright and angry red that shaped itself as a hand that cupped the entirety of one half of your face.
It was the leakage of dark red blood that tasted like iron and smelled like it from your nose or your split lip or a cut from a bottle shard. Or the torn walls from where it slipped outside and slipped back once more.
This poison.
It takes several forms. It could be that droplet of blood that fell on your desk with a "plink". It could be the next person you talk to. The next hand that slots itself in your hand and it feels so so so wrong. It could be that stripe of saliva somewhere on your skin. It could be that look of a parent so unlike a parent's.
It could be the glinting of a silver blade that blinds you and cuts you with it's sharpness, and that blood that drips from your hand to the matress. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another.
Until.
Until it forms that big wet puddle of red. Like wet paint leaking across the surface of the canvas and spreading. Or blood on a tissue that spreads and leaks onto the bottom.
It could be that void in your chest as you stare at the opened and lifeless eyes of an abuser. Eyes that opened a minute before the final breath was taken. Fear etched onto them. That same fear you saw in your reflection. That same fear you saw reflected into those cruel, cruel orbs.
It could be the steps you took as you walked out.
Or it could be the tiny splash of water from when you dropped the bloody knife.
Or it could be that feeling in your chest you can't identify as you watch the crime, your crime, your sin, reported in the news and printed in the papers and talked around.
Or it could be that sickeningly sweet feeling you felt as you moved forward. Or the faint regret as you looked back.
Or that happy, giddy feeling as you left and started new.
Or that ghostly, cool touch of a hand that explores your every part with a burning, seering, hot pain.
Or that feeling of fear and relief when you woke up and your heartbeat's loud beating of thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thumo, thump...
I got the Cursed book written by Thomas Wheeler and illustrated by Frank Miller and lemme tell you, the book, the cover, the font, the illustrations are AWESOME. I haven't read it yet, but it looks so awesome!
Imagine if Zuko's role and life and bloodline was taken even more extreme by the developers and writers and decided to make Zuko a descendent of Avatar Wan by making Sozin a descendent.
Got Krita and decided to draw one of my previous art but decided to change the whole color scheme. The lines are awful and terrible, I'm not used to not having full control of where my pen lands on the screen. I usually just move the screen and not really my hand but that's hard with a PC and a tablet that has points to mark the location on the screen. But I'm figuring it out.
Zuko's Hell
In the darkest of nights,
The quietest of moments,
Amidst the harshest of cold winds,
Laying in the loud of the silence
The moonlight glints
The abyss grins
The shadows grow
The eyes stare
He stands petrified
Breath shallow and ragged
Eyes wide in terror
Mouth open in horror
In the past, he visits
In the present, he is
In the dark, he lies
In the pain, he lives
He hears laughing
He smells burning
He sees smiling
He feels he is hurting
A ghostly touch
Yet so painful
He cries
He begs
No one listens
Everyone laughs
They point and stare
Now they whisper and glare
The past of his
A lesson they teach
Experience he has
Pain he befriends
He remembers, words from him
He recalls, cries of his
They talk, the begging he did
They mutter, the sinful deed
Burning hot white pain
Tears streaming down his other eye
He sees, atop of him, his father
Grinning with a wild look in his eyes
Of many things, he wonders
Of his sisters crazed giggles
Of his uncle's cowardly response
Of his mother's absence
Of his father's abuse
Of his ignorance
Ignorance that caused the death of many
The losses of his
He cries
He sins
He watches
He tries
He helps
He rages
He whimpers
He wakes up
He's in another hell
And he thinks,
Only the demon of their hell
Finds it to their liking
He smiles
He's tired
He ages
He's alone
Once more
One last time
One more moment
He dreams
I took my stance
And paid a glance;
I brought my hand down,
And fire danced around.
I brough him flames,
And they marred his face;
I am aware of the cruelty,
And the tragic beauty.
A tragic tale,
Told by people that wail;
Though, I will not regret,
Lest I fall to my death.
"He cupped my face so gently, so caring. His touch one of a loving father.
He other hand came to atop my head, like he was patting me for a assurance.
Then it came.
The searing hot pain.
It burned and burned, a white hot burn. It was so intense, like the sun came down to Earth and visited me, touched me with it's flaming hand and painful touch.
Then...
Nothing.
Everything was black, and for a millisecond, I was scared, frightened. Begging for my mother's comfort.
Next thing I know, I woke up, numb with anesthesia.
I was confused, moment of pain that occured before momentarily forgotten. My hand came up to my head and brushed against cloth. The bandage, hiding and obscuring the burn that was surely there from view. Memories flashed before my eyes and tears welled up in my eyes.
Hours later, I was told the news regarding my banishment and the fool's errand that my father sent me on.
That was three years ago, I'm sixteen now.
I still don't know who was in the wrong."
Character A: I thought he (MewTwo) was wearing a really big ass plug.
Character B: So, he was just masturbating this whole time?
Character A: OKAY, LOOK, MY REPLY WAS BAD BUT YOURS IS JUST—
Sometimes I wonder if you're me but 10x.
Character B: 10x what?
Character A: Everything.
Character B: Yeah. That's why you're crying out mommy/daddy everytime.
Character A: NAH MAN
Everyone else: . . .
Character C: *appears* Is it innocent or sexual again?
Character D: Nothing's innocent about them.
Childe: I have no friends...
Scaramouche: Finally, you got something right.
"What kind of unforseen yet completely predictable stupidity have your ruined my day with this time?"
— Squidward
I use Pinterest for my base, credits to the artist of the base.
I use Pinterest to find my base, props to the artist.
Dabi: I'm going to take you out.
Hawks: Like, as in, a date, murder, or garbage?
Gwi-nam: I learned some very valuable lesson from this.
Gwi-nam: Death isn't real and I'm basically a god.
The only reason I tagged Muraskibara was that this was meant to be a fanart. As you can see, it did not work out. The base pose was from Pinterest though I forgot who the original artist was.
Shigaraki: Can you keep a secret?
Dabi: Do you know anything about my life?
Shigaraki: No I do not. Good point.
War arc
Shigaraki: *looking at dancing Dabi* Well, now I do.
Scaramouche: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my flaws! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!
Nijimura: Whenever I'm feeling sad, stressed, or angry, I look at a picture of all of us.
KnS/GoM(+ Momoi & Haizaki): *touched*
Nijimura: And think, "if I can keep all of these little sh!ts in place and alive (especially Haizaki) and continue being in Teiko, I can do anything."
Luffy probably: *jovial* I should be dead, but I'm not.
Sabo: *amused and bemused* Everyone thought I was dead, I did too. But I'm not.
Ace: *surprised/relieved* I'm not dead!
*panicked* I'm going to die!!
*fucked* I am dead!!
Kaeya: Hey Klee,
Klee: Yes, big brother Kaeya?
Kaeya:Life is like a bomb. It takes a lot of things to make, but it takes only one tiny step for it to be lost. That's why, you need to be careful. Understood?
Klee: I...understand.
Kaeya: Good. Now, let's go check up on Albedo.
Klee: Yey!!