leventar - 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫ˢʷᵉᵉᵗ !
𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫ˢʷᵉᵉᵗ !

stolen nectar,    misadventure  .ᐟ

262 posts

I Need To Be Better About Utilizing The Characters On My Directory And Expanding On Them Instead Of Making

i need to be better about utilizing the characters on my directory and expanding on them instead of making new ocs from scratch every time so i’m thinking thoughts about azula and katara as demon slayers ……….. yeah.

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More Posts from Leventar

10 months ago

🌺 send this to ten blogs you think are wonderful 🌺

what if i told u i was ur biggest fan …….. what then!!!! WHAT THEN !!!!


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10 months ago

aesthetics for the entities, part i.   created by @sagamemes.

                         ▍ KAMO, CHŌSŌ.

[ i.  the buried. ]    weighed blankets.  drowning.  the comfort of a loved one’s weight.  soil and sand piling on top of you.  hugging so hard it hurts a little.  cramped hiding spots.  letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool.  walls pressing in on you.  not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little.  dragging the last second before you have to inhale.  lonely subways.  feeling like one with the earth.  a layer of dirt on you.  looking for something below.  cardboard boxes and tiny pillow forts.  hands calloused from digging.  knowing that your purpose is just below the surface.  entering your final resting place before it kills you.  a storm drowning you out.  dust and sand speaking to you.

[ ii.  the corruption. ]   insects.  a close imitation of the natural course of life.  an illness in a community.  a rag that dirties more than it cleans.  an untreated wound.  containment.  breaching containment.  unbreathable air.  fungi.  one with that you love.  one with what loves you.  a corpse unfit for a glass case.  hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings and legs.  honeycomb patterns.  an ecosystem within a person.  a curse passed on.  the hubris of a scientist.  an ugly death where a glorious one is owed.  blood on a handkerchief.  parasites.  something pushing up the sewer.  a mask to keep something out.  trypophobia.  knowing you belong.  death weeks after impact.  fever.  food that’s gone off.  pandora’s box.  death behind a glass.

[ iii.  the dark. ]   shadows.  lights that turn off by themselves.  the feel of cold marble.  a beaked creature in the night.  the difference between seeing darkness and seeing nothing.  touch of something you can’t see.  hiding under a blanket.  white, clouded eyes.  months without going outside during sunlight.  pouring dark.  unscrewing lightbulbs.  black matter.  light sensitivity.  a starless night.  time before light was created.  a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to.  withering plants.  a world without a sun.  footfalls in an empty house in the night.  a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should.  desperate reach for a flashlight.  clothes that hide your shape.  staying unperceivable.  winter months in the north.  an empty church.

[ iv.  the desolation. ]   senseless pain.  warmth of faith.  wax where skin should be.  a blazing fire.  heat without a source.  the third or fourth tragedy in the family.  losing everything you’ve ever held dear.  so much to live for, gone so soon.  the smell of gasoline.  touch that scars.  coffee cup that never goes cold.  scorch marks on wood.  inescapably warm air.  a child born in fire.  death of a loved one.  a candle without a flame.  an altar in the middle of the woods.  animals with burnt fur.  plastic explosives.  burning hot metal.  sweating in an interrogation room.  never touching a loved one.  disfigurement.  a kiss that ruins you.  the scent of burning fat.  a tattoo that terrifies its viewer.  the agony of hellfire displayed as art.  auburn hair.  little clothing in cold weather.  a ripple in the air.  trying to cool down in vain.

[ v.  the flesh. ]   body horror.  factories.  a hunger for something more filling.  never quite happy with how you look.  the terror of an animal waiting for slaughter.  a very good meal.  the liquid of a perfect steak.  fighting your worst survival instincts.  a twisted bone.  long nights working out.  more than one heart.  appearance that shapes like clay.  a bag of bones.  bone broth in a pot.  knowing to fear pigs.  the butcher’s shop.  plastic surgery.  something alien inside your body.  a hunger in the gaze laid upon you.  unwitting cannibalism.  forgetting what you used to look like.  being admired for your appearance and appearance only.  teeth marks on skin.  scars from wounds that should’ve killed you.  cooking in scarcity.  fenced in with one way to go.

[ vi.  the end. ]   the last page of a book.  nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares.  a skeletal hand.  the grip of the grim reaper around your throat.  existential pain.  ivory dice.  flatlining in a hospital.  gambiling with death.  as old as the universe.  soul and spirit tied to an object.  a dream where you die.  closing your eyes for the last time.  the plead of a dying one.  knowing the fate of someone you know and being unable to prevent it.  a thousand cords tugging you towards your end.  skin that’s freezing to the touch.  an act of desperation.  someone’s life for yours.  an eternity spent alive.  the cost of your selfishness.  watching your own burial.  causing your own burial.  the smell of death.  numbness to fear.  words from someone gone.  meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe.  multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

[ vii.  the eye. ]   googling something you shouldn’t have.  eureka moments.  the unforgiving lens of a camera.  witness reports.  hidden libraries.  eyes of different colours.  feeling of being watched.  a death recorded in tape.  a tragedy you can’t watch away from.  endangering yourself for knowledge.  truth.  analog records.  a symbol of an eye.  a watch tower.  compulsion to document.  turning on recording devices without thinking about it.  saving the evidence before the person.  extracting information.  truth or dare, without the dare.  a thirst for knowledge.  books that speak to you.  coordinated shelves.  cataloguing systems.  voyerism.  police report you can’t put down.  reasoning your way out.  smell of old papers.  books that read you back.

tagged by. hauntfilm tagging. @ilfateds ( tetchou or seiko ), @rottedfigs ( stiles ), @ategod ( maki ), @zeitkeist ( yuuta ), @sgterso, and you !! ( i'd tag more but tumblr literally won't let me after five </3 )


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10 months ago

❙⠀ ⠀ 𝒊.⠀ TACHIHARA, MICHIZOU.⠀⠀⠀.𖥔 ݁ ˖⠀⠀“⠀⠀don’t look at me like that.  you know i’m right.  you get it.⠀⠀” ⠀⠀[⠀. . .⠀]⠀⠀@starspurn .

nothing short of aggravating with how well he could read her. just a simple downturn of brows, slightly furrowed with the faintest of wrinkles in - between, obsidians glinted with a slight narrow. to the world, gin was unresponsive and unfeeling, impassive with the expressions, hardly made up for the loudness of her actions. even those were silent, skillfully navigated in the shadows with the ease and quickness of death's linger. perhaps it was just the metallic zing of her blade the only sound out out of her, the only tangible thing to grasp. but tachihara, much to her dismay, had taken root, rendered himself a force not easily removed from the confines that pesky, beating little organ that demanded to be felt. she was no ghost, no scepter, but a breathing, human entity in his hold, in his eyes. previously deemed a weakness, perhaps still, but she'd foregone the caution that'd come with it. something about their hands being interlaced with the grim reaper, the nature of their jobs, and she'd lost the point in pretending any distance would prolong their lives. you know i'm right. it echoed in her mind. and instinctually, her head shook. just once, out of defiance.

this was no game, no light - heartedness in the confines of the rec - room or their own spaces. there was no laughter to be heard from others, just the sound of cocked guns and knives bristling against fabrics, the wind hitting the building around them with violence. it was a storm brewing, they'd known it would happen prior to setting out. they were cornered, for once. gin could see no way out of it and it angered her so, scared her even more. they'd just been looking at each other, speaking with just their eyes, unreadable to the crowd that was closing in around the perimeter, getting away with the barest of communications right under their noses. her mask was bloodied from the lives she'd taken moments prior, hands wet from the crimson, and yet she still felt the selfishness to reach out to him. she wouldn't just yet. there was only one person getting out, if any. they both knew it. he knew it first, and yet he still came with. you are out of your mind, she shot back, just with a glare that he'd read all too well. eyes darted towards the wound on his neck, where a blade must've kissed it from before. it wasn't vital, but still concerning enough. so she finally reached out to press against it, knowing he'd fight her off, knowing he'd been pleading her to leave. but she would not. “ not going. ”


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