#do not ask me why i wrote this i truly cannot fucking tell you

[khuzena]

This bitter life.

pairing: Blade x g/n!reader

Part 1, Part 2.

Summary: Life is not fair, that is the truth every being must accept. Yet, there’s a part in Blade’s mara-struck mind, that he cannot accept this type of ending, he will not allow it, but he has no right to deny fate itself.

In other words, you die and he’s miserable.

Cw. It’s very fluffy trust me, Reader is absolutely fucked, you die, unrequited requited love, not proofread, very slowburn, character development, terminally ill, ansgt only bcoz fluff is for the weak, life is unfair.

A/n: You already know what it means when I upload a fanfic. If you don’t, my only warning is, shit’s going down.

(wrote this bc bladie won the poll for my other fic of which character u guys want a fic for next 🥳)

Days pass by, Blade didn’t come back to the Stellaron Hunters HQ to watch over you. Silverwolf keeps messaging him, telling him he needs to come back for another mission but he’s stubborn.

Silverwolf: Come back here, we’re having a meeting

Silverwolf: oh come on I know you’re seeing this

Silverwolf: Istfg

[seen by Bladie]

His phone shuts off and he just stares outside your window, he knows you’re not getting better anytime soon. He sometimes feels a twisted, aching feeling in his chest when you give him that feeble smile to pretend you're okay, when you both know no amount of medicine will save you, you could no longer hold a glass for more than a minute because your muscles fail you.

He feels sick.

This misery of his never going away.

“I have to go.”

He expected that you’d call out for him, “Okay, take care.”

So he leaves, he wishes he never looked back.

He was gone for 3 weeks, on another mission to exterminate more and more foes of the Stellaron hunters and gather more Stellaron with Kafka.

“Something on your mind?” The blood on his hands could never be washed away, he wants to go back to that stupid Clove-V planet and talk to you.

“None of your business.” Kafka is surprised, it's the first time he sees Blade so irritated (he mostly is but not to this extent)

Kafka doesn’t ask again and they finish their mission.

In 4 days, he rushed to see you. You stopped replying to his messages, only a tiny ‘seen’ message pops up every now and then and he hates to admit it, he’s dying to see you again.

“Doctor.” Your door creaks open, another visitor it seems.

”Is it you Blade?”

He nods, but with a tightness to it, he sits beside you again, mold was already building up on your sink, your lack of mobility making you lose the ability to do normal tasks.

”Are you okay?”

”I wish.” How could someone act so carefree on the brink of death? He doesn’t understand you, no, not at all.

He wants to reach out for you, to comfort you but he doesn’t know how to comfort you. He doesn’t understand why he wants to comfort you, he understands why he cares so much, he doesn’t understand why he’s feeling this way, he doesn’t even understand himself.

But when you smile at his hesitance, he realises, maybe you do.

He doesn’t reach out for you, he’s always an arm's length away from you, never close yet never too far. “You haven’t eaten, you’re going to die.”

Even if you eat, you will never get better; but he wants you to.

“Maybe, but I’m fine with that.”

”With dying? You’re a fool.” He doesn’t want to accept that you’re going to die, that you’re okay with dying because he’s not.

You’re a fool, a bastard, for trying to understand him but he can never understand himself nor can he ever truly understand you.

“You better not die,” his eyes desperately tried to never meet with yours.

He doesn’t want to look into your eyes, he doesn't want to accept the truth. That your eyes no longer beam with excitement at his words, that the sparkle in your eyes had dimmed.

“I know I will,” he no longer hides his worry, his fear, his desperation to keep you alive.

So he asks again, “What do I do?”

Like every other time he asks what ‘can’ he do for you, you repeat your words, “Just keep me company.”

He nods, sitting beside you. The tension in the air is obvious, neither utter a single word in this deafening (yet comforting) silence.

Blade cannot accept that you’re giving up, you’re not allowed to give up, he won’t accept it.

He drapes a blanket over you, “Feeling better?”

“A little.” Your throat burns, but you want to talk to him, even when you’re dying, you want to understand him.

”It hurts.” He doesn’t know what to do.

He wants to understand your pain, he wonders, if your pain is as worse as his, that it hurts so much you’d rather pass. That maybe, you’re the same and you wish to die too.

Neither of you will truly understand the other, but you try.

“I got sick when I was a child, 7– no, 8… I don’t remember,” he pretends he doesn't hear the rasp in your voice, “Just… Medicine made the progression slower.”

You could almost cry, “I wanted to study medicine, I wanted to heal others of their pain.”

”I don’t want to die.”

He doesn’t want to hear your desperate cry, he doesn’t hear it.

“Blade, it hurts,” he’s never wanted to shut off his ears when you spoke what he never wanted to hear, “Can I give up?”

He doesn’t want you to, but has no right to deny you peace.

”Is it okay if I give up?”

No, he won’t let you give up. You were there when he was sick, you did not look at him with hatred in your eyes, you treated him like any other person, something that has never happened in years. In your eyes, Blade was just a man.

So he doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t want you to give up, of course; but what can he do?

“It’s okay, right?”

”If that’s what you need.” He holds your hand out of instinct, “Then give up.”

He wants to yell at you that you’re an idiot, that giving up is for the weak but it’d be hypocritical of him to do so, I mean, he’s given up on life a long time ago, what’s he going to do? Tell you inspirational shit to keep your will to live alive?

“Thank you.”

No tears escape him, not a single choked sob leaves his throat but when your eyes lock for one last time, you understood him and he understood you too.

You two were just the same.

He squeezes your hand and rests his head on your stomach, when you don’t flinch, he realises you’re gone now too.

He can no longer understand you by your words, you can no longer speak to him, he can’t understand your past or who you truly are.

But how could you, how did you do it?

A single medical book rests on his hand, he may not understand what you truly are, but he’ll read countless books for you. He’ll play your favourite stupid games for you.

Maybe then, he’ll understand the only person that truly knew him, who gave him company in this miserable life of his.

What a pathetic, miserable, bitter life.

Note: DEF OOC BUT WHO TF CARES (I DO AND IM EMBARRASSED) but its okay right?? Like i wrote this in just 2 days (5 hours everyday) Whatever whatever i think its okay i feel sick I haven't ate lunch yet bye wuahhshdsj

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[celebrityworshipsyndromee]

Something I wrote a year ago

All at once clarity and horror harmonised and I realised why I cannot drink, why I cannot fuck, why I cannot go out and stay there. It’s because I do not truly desire it, but I think I do because I see you doing the same thing and something inside me detonates. I hate you like a brother. I want to show you that I can do the same; but bigger and bolder and better and more sex and more drunk and more out. I desire it until I lose vision of myself completely, no longer an autonomous entity, but purely as a metric measured against you. 

I cannot tell you but you look terrible. I declare it to myself instead, footnoting that it is because of me. You are fixated on the rings under your eyes but I hadn’t noticed them, I’d noticed your eyes first. They’re not there. Iced over, void and tired. I imagine all the fucking they’ve seen; first person shooter. Come for me. I imagine I am you, with someone bent over a bed. I imagine you asking me why I made you into a character. Why didn’t you make me into one? I’d reply.

I hate everyone as much as I love you. I hate myself the most. I think these things have to be true to love you. You invented new forms of torture, tailored especially to me, out of love. We're ill-fated, prone to destruction, Vanishing twin syndrome. Except instead of one twin absorbing the deceased other in the womb, it was actually that one twin existed before the other, and the second spawned from its ribs like Eve. I grew in your likeness. To hate myself is to love you, to love myself is to hate you.

[nikethestatue]

so confused how people see Az as an entitled fuckboi but still ship him with their beloved Gwyn when:

1. This man pined over Mor for 500 YEARS. Not days, hours - YEARS. He is 540 and pined over Mor for 500 of those??? Insane.

2. The reason he moved on from Mor was Elain - this is not debatable, that is canon text. Cassian (you know, lord of bloodshed, the MOST reliable narrator, Velaris fashion police) even notes Az has moved on. Nesta knows WHY Az has moved on. Az clearly shows he is at the very least, attracted to elain (obsessed, head over wings, but potato potahto I guess)

3. This man was tortured by his family. He does not have good self esteem. He already thinks his position as spymaster/lead torturer is bad, he is ashamed of his own hands and struggles with feeling worthy on a GOOD DAY. He knows it’s wrong to have feelings for Elain (bc she has a mate and he was ordered to stay away from her) but HE STILL HAS them. He can’t help it, he loves her?? Is that not the most heart wrenching thing youve heard?? How is he entitled when man himself doesn’t feel worthy of even touching her NECK???

Like how can you read that bonus chapter and say “yeah Az is an incel he is a fuckboi only lusting after elain” like this dude is clearly torturing himself with the feelings he has for her ?? How is he only after sex?? Do we want to whip out Cassian & Rhys’s POVs about their mates? The same thoughts.

It boggles my mind, truly, to attempt to understand gwynriel. elucien - I don’t ship but I do understand. They have been declared mates…that’s about all they have but at least that is there.

How can they be out here saying Az is evil incel fuckboi but then ship him with Gwyn… a priestess that was SA-ed and going on her own healing journey?? It makes no sense.

“Oh but elain needs light and azriel is just darkness she won’t be able to understand him” idk seems like it’s been said multiple times they understand each other without a single word.

“Elain can’t handle his darkness, Gwyn will heal him” … heal him how exactly? Through her laughter and song and pliable bones? Like she is not a therapist. She is bad with secrets (canonically). She can’t even leave the library. So what makes HER capable of handling “azriels darkness” like ?? What is she going to do someone please genuinely tell me? I would ask a gwynriel but they will get angry and tell me I’m a monster against SA victims or some bs.

Also what the actual hell is this so called “azriel’s darkness”?? Why we doing this “I can fix him” mentality in 2024? Sure man has got self image insecurity issues but it’s something HE has to fix … himself…

All I ever see from gwynriels is the craziest shit they are trying to pass off as theory because they literally hate elain!!? They ship elucien… only so it gets elain away from NC

They send her to spring court to be with tamlin and the flowers. They send her to day court to be with sunlight(? Even tho the night court has… sun…?)

They say she will turn evil. They say it’s only lust between them. They say she looks bad in black (this girl is described as having beauty to bring kings to their knees… I don’t think people care that she allegedly cannot pull off black)

They hate elain because elain is beautiful and kind and sweet and NOT a warrior and they don’t connect with her. And the loooooove azriel bc honestly a man who doesn’t say anything is just easier to shape to someone’s own fantasies. And they looove Gwyn because she is pretty enough (not devastating beauty) and vague enough that they can self insert.

And elain is also still a character in development. But the few things we know about her were apparently dammning enough that they have written her off completely.

But the fact is she’s the only character relevant enough and has shown an interest in azriel that is reciprocated. So why are we even fighting still? It’s been over since SJM wrote “death and the lovely fawn” even after she made her mated to Lucien.

He is only an incel fuckboi when it comes to Elain though. It's never with anyone else. With Gwyn he is a gallant hero.

Yeah, I never understood what qualifications Gwyn possesses to 'heal Azriel's trauma' especially considering her extremely, EXTREMELY limited life experience. She is 28, acting like she is 13, because she's lived in a closed environment all her life, had her basic chores, but everything was taken care of for her. Then she moved to the Library, where she is in the same situation. Not denying *her* trauma, but she barely dealt with it herself, and until Nesta, didn't do a very good job at it either. She only just began functioning, though still unable to join society and doesn't want to leave the Library. Even to go to a wedding! And this is the person they think is going to 'heal' Azriel's darkness? Can 500 year old 'darkness' even be healed? I feel like Azriel is what he is and I don't think there is much 'healing' that's going to happen. He is essentially Lorcan--he'd thaw for his girl, he'll be friends with Cassian and Nesta, and that's pretty much it. And the girl who'll accept him, who already accepted him is Elain.

Also, GA girlies need to remember that it's not a woman's job to 'fix' a guy and his 'darkness'. It's Azriel's responsibility, if he so desires.

Will never hear an Elriel talking about Elain 'healing Azriel's darkness'. Homeboy better take care of that himself because there is Dusk Court shit to take care of.

[chiyoso]

yes, there was absolutely no need to make this, but i wanted to, just to show how deep my love is for the writing fandom, and those who i've encountered along the way.

i. 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 — @teapartyspilled

SFW, R-18; Genshin Impact Writer.

♡ letter ! nat, i don't know how many times i've said this, but that day, the day where i read your alhaitham oneshot, you truly, truly had inspired me that time, back then i was still in contemplation to return to playing genshin, i wasn't that much of an alhaitham nerd even, but that- that fic, it seriously broadened my views towards writing and fanfiction by so, so much. you literally opened a whole new world for me, inspired me to the point where i began pursuing writing too, i cannot stress that enough, and with that, thank you, thank you and thank you. i hope you're doing okay nat with how life is going for you, ILY, stay safe.

♡ recs; iconic lyney angst/pt 2. Scaramouche Angst Series (heh made me hate scara for a bit, Alhaitham oneshot that kickstarted it all for me.

ii. 𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐄 — @ainescribe / @lychniis

SFW, R-18; Genshin Impact and Honkai Star Rail Writer.

♡ letter ! AINE. One of my first few supporters who supported my first work (Cynosure's Ascendance), wrote so much sweet things to me in my time of need, and also a fucking AMAZING writer. how the fffuuuck did you even manage find me??? SHIT like, i was no one, i was new to tumblr, and then somehow you managed to find the very first fic i wrote where my inexperience was VISIBLE to everyone, even to you—whose fics left me mind fucking blown from how skillful, poetic and your words can be. Fuck Aine, thank you for your continuous support to me, even if i haven't been so damn interacted, ilysm ilysm ILY.

♡ recs; This made me cry (i love you neuvi, zhongli). THIS made me cry harder. THIS STOPPED THE TEARS. THIS was so fucking impactful for me (zhongli oneshot).

iii. 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — @wanderingconstellations

SFW, R-18; Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rail Writer.

♡ letter ! YUAAAA MY CRUSH. MY WANDERER. HEHE. YUA YUA YUA was one of many smut writers that kickstarted my obsessions towards Wanderer/Scaramouche, AND the one who made me think “Mmm... maybe I can write smut for Scara next time,” so YEAH. YOU'RE A WHOLE ASS INSPIRATION TO ME TOO!!!! Let's not forget your sweet ass asks and interactions with me, making me all blush n' all that. I've been noticing your absence lately too, I hope everything outside tumblr is okay, and I wish for limitless opportunities of positive choices to you!!! (I miss you and I hope you're really enjoying the banner I made for you <3)

♡ recs; Threesome with Wanderer & Scaramouche that keeps satisfying me til' now. Breeding w/Scaramouche after he consoles you (My ask). Manipulating Bully!Scara (My ask). Lyney HC THAT MADE ME BLUSH SO HARD.

iv. 𝐅𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐎 — @fueledbysano

SFW, R-18; Tokyo Revengers, JJK, AoT, Bluelock Writer.

♡ letter ! i plead guilty, your honor. i haven't interacted with you as much, but i really, really genuinely loved reading your tokyo revenger works robyn. you're actually one of the reasons that made me explore more of my writing styles, hence the creation of my hsr fic 'the mara's will' - i created it just perhaps a few days or weeks after reading your if/then series, you inspired and impacted me a FUCK TON TOO. you're also the main reason why i started to take things a bit more seriously and realistically in a writing aspect, given the message you telling me about the words power hold? yeah, that message changed me. thank you for existing and being a writer, robyn. <3

♡ recs; her if/then mikey series. i had a long ass manila mikey-crush phase because of this HNNH. THIS manila mikey bday oneshot hit fucking home.

v. 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐙 — @antimatterz

SFW; Honkai Star Rail Writer.

♡ letter ! HIII!!! hi enyoo!! i haven't interacted with you a lot, but as a reader (AND FAN) of your works, i seriously SERIOUSLY love the way you write, as well as the poetic goodness you bring in your works!!! your specialty? bringing so, so much comfort with a set story. i was in a state of spiraling depression and was going through a rough breakup when i read your fics, it was after the blade banner too, (the start of my blade obsession cough) so reading your self aware AUs, genuinely impacted me so much at the time, hence inspiring me to make that one jing yuan self aware au comfort fic. you're one of those impactful writers, please remember that! thank you ily <3

♡ recs; all of their self aware hsr AUs (heh) they're all SO comforting it hurts. AND her normal fics, i envy your poetics so much hnn. THIS SELF AWARE BLADE ONE IS MY FAVORITE OUT OF ALL.

vi. 𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐖𝐙𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐙 — @meowzfordayz

SFW, R-18; Demon Slayer, Jujutsu Kaisen, MHA Writer.

♡ letter ! fuuuck i haven't interacted with you in awhile too, BUT PLEASE ALLOW ME TO PRAISE YOUR WORK IMMENSELY. i also... couldn't find your tanjiro poetry fic, i wanted to include it in too hnngh. okay but PLEASE KNOW YOUR WRITING IS SO- IT LEAVES ME SO SATISFIED SO MUCHHH!!! i don't know how to word it, but its just... your writing genuinely leaves me full of emotion depending on the genre, like you know how you eat good ass food, your mouth wants more but you can't cause you've been well fed? YEAH THAT, but with emotions. I FUCKING WANT MORE FROM YOUUUUU RAHHH, another explanation is like- the warmth is addictive??? the bubbly, gushy feelings after reading your fic- its so addictive, its why i suddenly yk, come bursting your notifs at random times PFF sorry!!!

♡ recs; my emergency req (sanemi) fuck i was such in a low place at the time. THIS ONE WAS SO FUCKING HEART WARMING AND i just ADORE his characterization here RAHHHH. your honor, if i were to die, let it be near my man sanemi shinazugawa, ty. POETRY W/TANJIRO.

vii. 𝐕𝟑𝐋𝐕𝟑𝐓𝐅𝟎𝐗 — @v3lv3tf0x

SFW, R-18; Writer for a lot of fandoms heheh.

♡ letter ! fuck, you're kinda proving to be my no. 1 most interactive mutual pfft, i've seen you hover eagerly around my blog, always quick to gnaw at my updates, reblogs, all that—WHICH I FIND HEAVILY ENDEARING AND YOUR SUPPORT BRINGS NOTHING BUT GIDDY, ACCOMPANIED WITH DELIGHT. that and you are so damn underrated its insane, no matter what, you are an amazing writer, and i hope numbers won't stray you off from that opinion of mine. genuinely, when you sent off that gojo drabble of a depressive reader pov, shit, did i mention i had a crying spree at the end? i first felt happy finishing the fic because it was inspired by my words, then the dread settled in, the shittiness of my situation, cried a fuckton, then after i calmed down, i went something along the lines of “fuck, shit, that was a good ass crying session” THEN i asked for an alternative good end (since i'm not the type to push people away) FUCK IM RAMBLING OMFG NOT AGAIN

♡ recs; at my time of need, you put out such a HEAVILY comforting satoru fic- or drabble, either way, this one is close to my heart. here's the alternate end to the 1st link nnh.

viii. 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐘𝐒𝐌 — @vampyrsm

SFW, R-18; Jujutsu Kaisen, MHA, Obey Me Writer.

♡ letter ! its like im writing to a celebrity who doesn't know my existence, but you do. fffuuuuuckkk can i just say how much of a SKILLFUL WRITER you are????? the research you have to do for cor unum, perhaps even greek mythology to your other fics- you put so much calculative thought into your work and word building its INSANE. i aspire to write like you (tough aspiration considering my consistent burnout) BUT EITHER WAY, you're so admirable, i love how you handle gorey, realistic topics, and even if its just fanfiction? the realism is just so scrumptious, you're one of many major inspirations why i've decided to try and handle sensitive topics like cor unum too! and with whatever you're going through- prevail.

just like how sukuna would.

♡ recs; cor unum. cor unum. cor fucking unum. did i mention cor unum? this is a series i fucking wait for EAGERLY in each update (sukuna x you). greek mythology x bakugo is hot as hell HNNGHHFF.

more tba.

[laputaindefrenchgirl]

and i'll forget you but i'll never forgive you.

This is love letter to Taylor's latest album, The Tortured Poets Department : The Anthology, which is an absolute masterpiece.

I don't know here I'm going exactly as I'm writing this, but I have a strong intuition that some things need to be said. I need to, at least. I spent a major part of my late teens listening to Taylor Swift's music and when Red came out in 2012, that was it for me.

The Tortured Poets Department holds the standard of greatness even higher if that was possible. It is written about all these things that we imagined, lived, went through, and survived.

Taylor is a Cancer Moon (so am I), and it is in her 8th which is linked to transformation, sex and legacy. As I studied astrology (still do), I realized that the power of a Cancer Moon is linked to feeling the absolute truth, even more as an artist. It's a powerful placement, which might seem petty to some idiots, but it is not because it's coming straight from the heart. If there's thing one thing that I love the most about Taylor, that is her powerful writing. It's incandescent, it's pure, it is real.

I'm writing poetry in my bedroom everyday, and it's both inked with my tears and drops of my blood straight from my heartbeat. I'm passionate about all that lived, am living and what the future holds for me. The words are pouring and my strong solar powerful self cannot keep it bottled up. This is selfish. This is selfless.

Back to TTPD, the fact that she wrote Guilty As Sin? is so important to me. The ? is soooo relevant because it's asking for validation. When she writes

He's a paradox I'm seeing visions, am I bad? Or mad? Or wise?

I cannot help but absolutely get it. What is imagined can be created, so am I guilty for it? It's a daily thing of what am I to do with all these fucking feelings. Sometimes I'm feeling even more culpable for not having lived any of these things, what I felt in my dreams, but it's so intense, so I question further, are they visions?

I keep recalling things we never did Messy top lip kiss How I long for our trysts Without ever touching his skin How can I be guilty as sin?

It always felt funny to me how as women we can barely articulate our fantasy without feeling a hint of shame. For men, it's different. Their obvious sexual needs uphold the eventual shame that could come with the act of imagining something that never did or will never happen. It's not to be questioned. I never truly understood why unless the fact that we are living under a patriarchy? Yet that never stopped my subconscious to be feeling the ghosts of his fingers and how they can be my salvation, I know it in a deep intricate way. It's a soul connection, it's a pretty sight, it's more and it's getting difficult to speak about it without sounding like a poetess from the 1700s or Maria Callas.

The song that instantly stood out to me in this album is Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? and every verse, oh my.

So tell me everything is not about me But what if it is? Then say they didn't do it to hurt me But what if they did?

Each time someone did hurt me, they somehow always end up using that line "everything is not about you" but what if it is, in the most heart-wrenching way? Some of us just are in the spotlight for whatever reason, and it is truly not up to us to change the intensity of the lightning. It's shameful to make us wear that burden. So yes, it is about me, it always was, and now, you want me to go away? Once you get that, there's nothing to fight for anymore.

"Who's afraid of little old me?" I was tame, I was gentle 'til the circus life made me mean

It's a thing that I feel in my heart of my heart. I don't wish anyone wrong but I have to fight back so many times, in the end they have to own the fact they made me this monster they judge. I won't let you get away with it. It's not bitter, this is justice. It's too easy for them to just break my heart time after time and then to come back as if I was what I acting the way I was for no reason. No, no, no.

You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me So all you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs I'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all said?

These lines hit a little too close. I always cry in silence when I'm bleeding, figuratively or not, or/and when i cry out of pure rage they look at me as if it was a fucking play. Slurring "she's crying, playing the victim, begging to be the center of attention" and I can't help but feel theirs arrows piercing my skin once more.

Who's afraid of little old me? Well, you should be.

I have been doing multiples therapies, and I always feel stuck with the concept of forgiveness. Maybe it's so hard for me to forgive others because I have never been forgiven. My insecurities make it hard for me to really know, but all I can say is that I don't want to forgive someone who's done me dirty and who will again. Fuck you.

The Prophecy is so beautiful. Sad, sorrowful and yet filled with the purest of light. You can't help but project yourself your very own prophecy. I know mine, I know mine. And how many times did I wish to change it for the curse of my strength to dim a little.

Gathered with a coven round a sorceress' table A greater woman has faith But even statues crumble if they're made to wait I'm so afraid I sealed my fate

That faith, we're taught about in churches or any temples you'll grow with, a greater woman must have it but what comes when you can't find it? And I waited and waited and waited. I used to be afraid that I might have become the statue instead of finding the one that will make me believe in the magic of the universe.

Hand on the throttle Thought I caught lightning in a bottle Oh, but it's gone again And it was written I got cursed like Eve got bitten Oh, was it punishment?

The feminist subtext is powerful. Why is it always a woman who sins before a man could ever think of it? Silly. You think you wrapped your mind around the truth, and no, it's gone again. Pardon me sir, we are sinners, this is why we can't access to that holy view. Unless we are virgin and pure, obviously. Obviously.

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope A greater woman wouldn't beg But I looked to the sky and said Please.

The in-between. Neither a sinner, neither the saint. Too much yet not enough. Begging is the last straw but it is human. My Cancer Moon understands that ; it is in my 9th house in my chart which the house of philosophy and wisdom. So when any sort of strong kind of emotion penetrates me, I tend to interpret it as the truth. I fight very often that idea, because it feels as if I would go mad if I do. I try to rely on others things than my emotions, but my instinct and my truth are often screaming in pairs. Please.

Down Bad is another song that hits the right spot. It caught me right on time on the already iconic "fuck it if i can't have him" because there is nothing more to say after that. Fuck it, really.

All your indecent exposures How dare you say that it's— I'll build you a fort on some planet Where they can all understand it

I think strongly that when you're in love, you don't have and don't want to anyway, justify this love to anyone but your lover (eventually). It's a sort of bonding that have been depicted, sung, written about and played, yet, when it happens to you, it feels like the very first time in the whole universe.

Tell me I was the chosen one Showed me that this world is bigger than us Then sent me back where I came from

Loneliness. So many things in the world are lonely, and love should not be one of them. Gods, could you believe that I have never been in love? I'm scaring myself. Imagine when I will be. I'm too intense.

The beats of I Can Fix Him (I Really Can) are so sexy. I felt the drums under my skin and it made insert myself into the story.

His hand so calloused from his pistol Softly traces hearts on my face

The perfect opposition, fantasy that a tough man can soften for you when he caresses your face. For some reason, I linked this to Wildest Dreams because if you know he's bad, you still want him in that golden age romantic scenario.

He had a halo of the highest grade He just hadn't met me yet

To be honest, this probably the trope that I dislike the most. The whole "let me heal him, he's bad but he will be good". If I take him bad then I don't want him to change. But I absolutely sunk into the whole vibe, the whole "what if" that I never let myself indulge in.

TTPD is about all the heartbreaks which we went through, and also the ones ahead of us. There's beauty in what is wrecked. There is truth into our secrets fantasy. There's nothing fair in being hurt for free. There's no forgiveness and yet there is healing. When you write your own story, you take back the narrative, and it doesn't have to be pretty or soft or fucking fun. It's your story and it is the greatest power of any poet or writer. You take back your power and you close the bloody seal, for now at least.

And also, let's speak about My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys because it is so sad how well Taylor spells what feeling used is like. How when they have what they want, they throw you away. So easily.

Cause he took me out of my box Stole my tortured heart Left all these broken parts Told me I'm better off But I'm not

Sometimes people eviscerate you so well that you seem to be empty after the affair. It can be a clean cut, or a messier one, but once what they took or worse, what I gave, is gone, it feels like the world is over for real. Nobody really stole my heart, but I gave it a time or two, and when they leave you empty handed, it's so ugly.

Once I fix me, he's gonna miss me Once I fix me, he's gonna miss me

Ain't that the only road to be headed on? When you try by all measures to fix yourself and when they can't grab drink your soul or eat your heart anymore, it's over. The utopian desire that this man was healing too as you are healing yourself, but if he's not? He will miss me. For sure he will. Of course he will.

I am a creative, a burning sparkling little thing, and how could you I not realize sooner that my whole life is rooted in feelings? I have been so tough on myself. Listening to TTPD is the kind of process that reminds you that it's not only you that take all these invisible bullets. We all someway do. To be able to write about is freeing. This is the only act of letting go that I know.

am i allowed to cry ?

All these emotions, made up scenarios, really love stories, the laugh of your past lovers and the mistakes done in the middle, they are the beauty of the joy and despair you can find in The Tortured Poets Department. And more.

Thank you @taylorswift for making me shine, sing, cry, heal, and for inspiring me to write my own little stories as well. They wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where I've been raised neither. I'm inspired forever. Thank you for reading if you did. Until then. xx

-Audrey

[aboutnavi]

I never do this, and I've zero awareness of anything that is happening in the marauders fandom etc. because I actually do not spend that much time online, but now I'm pissed so congratulations, I'm mad and I will rent about it.

First of all, I won't get into the whole "white supremacist"/"fascist" allegations, because 1. I feel like you people actually don't know what fascism means anymore and I blame internet brain rot for this so I would genuinely recommend going back to school* - and yep, this is me being polite because you people truly don't wanna hear what I genuinely want to call you because calling your argument stupid is apparently stepping over the line and english also limits myself from the portuguese horizons of names that you people probably wouldn't understand; 2. Because this post about Regulus already said everything it needs to be said and I won't repeat myself - I would recommend reading but as of lately I'm actually doubting you people reading abilities, so maybe do try to read, but give it a good one ok ;)

Second of all: coherence people. You cannot come over tumblr dot com with #anti(insert ship) and then 1. expect people not to react and 2. tell people to "be polite" while you actually make your whole page about hating a certain ship. Let me give an example: I particularly don't like certain couples in the marauders fandom. Have you ever heard of me saying shit about them? Have you EVER seen a post of my on tumblr dot com pissing on people who like them? Is any of my mutuals, friends, or casual followers even knows what couples are they? No. Because when I don't like something, I shut my fucking mouth and I move on with my life, dedicating myself to things that I actually enjoy. That is called not being a bitter loser - see, now I'm actually not being polite, which is different from calling your argument stupid on a tag. Now I'm calling you a bitter loser on the actual post.

"Oh, but I miss when the fandom was like this and this and this and now is all about this and this". I actually don't even have words. Hold my hand while I walk you through this: did you ever thought about not engaging with what you don't like??? See, I don't actually engage with the Harry Potter fandom in general - there is only one couple I read from the original story of the books, and no one knows about it, because I don't make posts about it and I rarely even speak about them. I don't like the Harry Potter fandom. I don't even really respect them. Do I make posts about them? No. Do I cry my eyes out about how the fandom should focus on this one couple I enjoy sometimes? No.

Now, when it comes to Harry Potter, I actually do participate more in the marauders fandom. Do I like all of the marauders fandom? No. Do I spend my precious life hours making posts about those parts I hate and wish it was different? No! You know why? (& I know this must be really difficult to understand): Because I get my stuff, I move to the corner of the fandom where there is people, authors and ships I do like, and I thrive myself in being in the environment that I enjoy, ALL THE WHILE letting people be happy in their own little fandom-corner because, again, I'm not a bitter loser who spends time and time and time again dedicating my whole page about "how the interpretation of these online people I've never met about FICTIONAL CHARACTERS are not fulfilling my idea of "canon" or my own idea of said characters".

And I have great news!!! On ao3, you can actually filter things to not show you ships or dynamics you don't like. Crazy right? Almost like you can actually be part of a fandom and only read certain authors, ships and stories. I know, I know, super duper insane.

"Oh but I don't like the way this author wrote this characters, what should I do except go on tumblr and be a bitter loser?" Oh thank you so much for asking! Have you ever thought of opening something called Google docs? It's magic, I swear. You open and there is a blank page, and then you use your two braincells and you... (dramatic pause) WRITE A STORY YOURSELF! Isn't that great? You actually have freedom to do whatever you wish with whatever characters you like because no one really takes canon seriously and having your own story means you can exercise those brain juices and be creative and expand on the original world building and give attention to characters who rarely appeared on canon. You can even murder very bloodily that one character you really hate. And the best part? When you post, you actually can create a community with people that also likes to read the same things at you and have similar interpretations of the characters! You build your own fandom corner, isn't that so beautiful?

* I will leave it here, also, this:

[alpaca-clouds]

Ugh, I thought we were over this

So, I posted a story yesterday and... oh boy, it made some people very angry. Or rather made them perform anger, because let's face it, this is just usual performative virtue testing.

This is one of the comment I got under it:

Now, you might ask what the horrible lesbophobic thing might have been, that I did in this story?

Are you ready for it? Yeah, I wrote one character who recently has been confirmed via word of god as a lesbian as bisexual. DUN DUN DUUUN.

For context: The character (and the sapphic ship I wrote her in) has been around forever. And I have been writing her in this ship for a good two years now. The shipping was never confirmed until this year's pride month. And neither was the character's sexuality. So, I - a bisexual, who also knows at least two bisexual women who are a lot like this character - headcanoned this character as bisexual.

And no, the word of god confirmation does not change anything about it. Just like a character getting confirmed as heterosexual will not stop me from writing a character as gay. I mean, my fandom origin story was centered around Digimon and...

But no, the reason why I am talking about this now - other than venting - is how much purity testing is happening with a ton of lesbian fiction and if we are totally honest also queer women in the real world.

As if a character in a lesbian relationship is less worthy of this, if she had been in a relationship with a guy before. Doesn't even matter if she was in that relationship because of comphet or becuase she is bisexual, pansexual or something along those lines. She is no longer a Gold Star Lesbian.

And yeah, this is a big thing folks worry about. Also in the real world. Gold Star Lesbians, a word they use unironically, to talk about women who only ever have been with other women and not a single man.

At times it goes even further. Before I have written fanfictions, I wrote quite a bit of original kinky smut fiction, where I once got a comment on a lesbian one going: "This is not actually lesbian sex, because they are using a dildo!"

Now, I am a trans dude, who lived as a woman for most of his life. I was also always bisexual and yes, I had very gay sex with women. And let me tell you: It often involved dildo's and other toys. Because... that's what a ton of lesbian sex looks like.

This usually is also the kind of people you get the narrative of "trans men are lost lesbians" and "you are not a true lesbian if you have sex with a trans woman with a dick" comes from. It is also the kind of people who will go to non-binary fems and say: "You cannot use lesbian for yourself, because you are not a true woman."

Mind you: These people are very much the minority within queer women spaces. Surveys have found they make up something between 3 and 10% of lesbian women hold this kind of thought. But boy howdy, they are a loud minority. Loud enough that I generally so far have felt a lot safer in queer men spaces, than in queer women spaces.

Do gay men have the same sorta issues going on? Yeah. I definitely have heard gay men argue that if another gay man enjoys fucking a trans man's pussy, he cannot truly be gay. But... well, at least I have not heard about them going on about Gold Star Gays.

But no, really, people. This purity testing needs to end. Because for the most part, you are only hurting other queer women and fems through it.

[localplaguenurse]

Idk why but I’m suddenly remember the part where wifey thought Morax died. Anyways I’m cursing the fact that the gods saw it fit that I think in pictures because my god. The desperation, the way Wifey would hesitate for a split second to fully process that their supposed dead husband is right there standing. Wifey would basically crash into his arms and hold him tight, fisting their arms into his clothes as their put their ear on chest and as the steady beat of his heart reassured them that he’s here and not dead. Then, the dam breaks and a horrible sound erupted from Wifey as they cling to him desperately as if he would disappear if they’re were to let go and as sobs wracked through Wifey, Morax swears he will never be the cause of their despair again.

Tldr: why is it that your fics like to wack me over the head with a baseball bat when I least expect it. I wrote all this with tears in my eyes and I’m getting the post crying headache

Oh that’s so sweet and not actually how I saw that scene :3 in a good way? Bad way? I like yours but I’m gonna make everyone’s day worse!

Something that only kind of came up a couple of times and I wish I expanded on a little more is sometimes wifey’s anxiety can present itself as anger. This is because I based it off of my anxiety, at least at the time because I was dealing with some shit. A lot of built up frustration and stress. You only really see it when they yell at Wei Jin for packing their things and when Morax crash landed and they snapped at Xiao and Li Lei. I wish it came up a little more for both character building and because like, hey, this is how anxiety works sometimes.

So picture this. You’re wifey. You hear your husband is dead, which causes you to have the worst panic attack of your life, to the point you pass out, and all you can think about is how the rest of your family will react and how one of the few people from your past is now gone. You’re not even thinking about how him dying means that you might die as well.

You go home, and on the journey there you’re wondering how long until your children hear, how long you have left before you’re gone, and how you’re going to cope with being in your home without you husband there.

And then he’s standing there, making tea, like the horrific news of his passing is not spreading through Liyue like wildfire. He looks up at you, and he sees you’re an absolute mess (how could you not be?). He calls your name out, softly.

You realize it’s really him. It’s Morax, your husband, alive and well.

And you start to scream at him.

It’s the first time you have ever truly raised your voice at him. You’ve had disagreements and squabbles in the past - even happily married, no one can go 2000 years without a little conflict - but this is completely different. You’ve never been this furious with anyone, much less your own husband. You don’t even know what is making you angrier. Is it because he scared you into thinking he was dead? Is it because he didn’t tell you? Is it because of how you found out? Is it because you don’t know if your children and grandchildren know what’s happening? It doesn’t matter because it all bubbles to the surface and you cannot stop yourself from asking him what the fuck were you thinking?!

And then you’re out of steam. Tears are running down your face but you don’t know when or why you started crying. Your throat and head hurt from the screaming, and your whole body just feels awful. Morax stares at you, speechless, horrified. You don’t know if he’s horrified by your reaction, or because he’s the reason you’re like this.

You sink to your knees and just... sob. It’s all you have the energy to do. You feel like shit because of your panic attack earlier, and you feel like shit for yelling.

Morax at some point snaps out of his stupor to step forward. He sits down next to you, and it kills him when you initially flinch away from him. He’s murmuring, telling you that he’s sorry, he didn’t mean to scare you, it’s a complicated situation, and you have every right to be as mad at him as you are, but please, my darling, deep breaths.

He holds you close for the rest of the evening, and the house is dead quiet. You cling to him in your sleep, and he stays up all night running his fingers through your hair. He’ll never forgive himself, and there’s a part of him that hopes you don’t forgive him either. He had already brought you to anguished tears when you two had first gotten married, and he made a promise, a contract, to never let anything hurt you and to give you a happy life.

He feels like he failed you. 2000 years of married bliss, nullified in an instant. It doesn’t matter to him if you forgive him. He’ll still hear your grief clear as day for however long he has left.

[amiharana]

5, 19, and 29 for the ask game !!

(ask game from here)

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

hmm i don't think i actually have any KDJFKSDF uh but i love it when i write stuff and the word count ends in a 0 or a 5 (e.g. 1490 words). it rarely happens in the fics i write but i try so hard when i write like. discussion posts for homework to make it so that it ends in a 0 or 5.

oh another thing i'm weird about when writing is using adverbs? i read somewhere a long time ago that you shouldn't use adverbs while writing and just rephrase the sentence to say what you meant directly. i think it was talking about academic writing like an essay or research, but it stuck with me so bad that now, i naturally cringe when i write an adverb in fic. these days i'm trying to not be so weird about it because i think you can still use adverbs just sparingly LMAO idek why that sort of thinking stuck with me, because sometimes, an adverb is just the best way to write what you want to convey. just use it wisely!

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

okay so when i was little, i actually really wanted to be a fashion designer. like my parents bought me a shitty little lightbox for tracing and clothing silhouette stencils, and i kept a notebook where i pasted all of my shitty little clothing designs in (i have no idea where this notebook went). that's what baby amihan thought they were going to pursue and grow up to be, so i invested a lot of time in that as a kid (insert Does He Know? Paul Dano Meme).

but one day at my elementary school, they introduced this thing to the 4th-6th graders called "junior olympics" and it was basically just a little competition with four categories/events, those being (1) math test, (2) spelling bee, (3) oral performance, and (4) writing a story. you can see where this is going, right?

they had us all apply for at least one event and even as a kid, i hated math so i was like no ❌ to the math event, and the spelling bee and the oral performance ones made me nervous because i was very shy and introverted as a kid. that left only the writing event, so i was like yeah why not?

the writing event was basically writing as much of a story as you can within a certain allotted time, and i truthfully cannot remember what the first story i wrote was BUT what i can tell you is that i won first place each year from my 4th-6th grade years like i ate that shit up! i do remember in 5th grade, my submission for the story-writing that year was a piece in which i killed all of my teachers in fantastical ways. KJDHFKJSDJKFD like all of them got murdered on the school campus by some sort of fantasy creature, and i remember ending the story dramatically by killing the principal via got eaten by a dragon because i LOVE dragons and i was in a big dragon phase at the time (i was reading so many books with dragons in them omg). but guess who won first place? 🥳 yours truly.

and winning three times in a row really did it for me. i was like wow it is so much fun to write silly little stories and then receive validation for being a good writer 🥰 and for a while, i actually ended up wanting to pursue being a writer! in elementary school, i started getting my parents to buy me composition notebooks and regular spiral notebooks simply just to write my silly little stories in, but i never finished them or i would tear out the pages and rewrite it because (1) it wasn't good enough to me or (2) i didn't like how i wrote it. some of you have seen me post my math notes and have told me i have nice handwriting; how do you think i got such nice handwriting? 😁 from tiny 9 year old me putting in The Work carefully and painstakingly rewriting every damn word so that it came out perfect like the absolute fucking cycle path she was ☝️👹

but yeah, i still have those stacks of composition notebooks and stuff that i go through and reread every couple of years to visit my inner child; she still lives in those pages and i like to pay my respects to her. i pay homage to that kid everytime i write my silly little fanfics now 🤍

as for what came after, i started writing more and more fanfic the older i got and the more media i became interested in. if you've ever seen my ao3, i only have a few things properly uploaded but my google drive is chock full of half written fics and documents with like up to 80+ pages of informal conceptual writing. part of the reason why i don't have many finished fics is because i attended a college prep school after elementary and it just. in hindsight, i wish i never let my parents talk me into doing the entrance exam for that school 😹 i'd probably be a lot happier and more sane right now if i did. but here we are! now i'm a bio major and writing about all the creative ways a dead bird and amnesiac elf can be intimate with each other for funsies! can i get an Amen hallerlujah 🙏

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

it's probably from the undiagnosed mental illnesses and the endless uncontrollable imagination i've had since i was a child that's always outrun the cruel grasp of reality. KJDFHKSDHJFKDJS no but i just get so easily inspired by everything around me idk ☝️😳

i've talked about it before in a different ask game answer, but because i have so many different interests that are extremely unrelated to each other, i have a wide array of experiences and knowledge to pick from. the analogy i used back then was arranging all of my interests on a color wheel and picking at two opposite interests like they're complementary colors, e.g. the fact that i am a huge bts fan and am a major revalinker simultaneously. at the time of writing this, i was listening to 'daechwita' by agust d and i suddenly got this imagery of link killing his past self who's grown too arrogant to keep himself humble and it's so delicious to me. or like, i don't know how to elaborate, but just. botw link spiritually killing his predecessors so that their achievements don't drive him insane. yum.

when the inspiration well runs dry, i just take a step back from writing for a bit and let what i've already written marinate a little. i did that recently with the fic i had planned for revalink week d1 (don't get your hopes up just yet, i'm not gonna work on it until after my finals next week are over), and when i reread my outlining again i was like HMFGHMFHGMF. delicious. can't wait to work on this 😋

in terms of getting ideas, they kind of just come and go? the best way i can explain is that i'm quite literally a prophet of the revalink gods. should they desire to bequeath upon me the sacred words, then i shall gladly receive it and share the word of the gospel with you all 🤍

[khuzena]

This bitter life.

pairing: Blade x g/n!reader

Part 1, Part 2.

Summary: Life is not fair, that is the truth every being must accept. Yet, there’s a part in Blade’s mara-struck mind, that he cannot accept this type of ending, he will not allow it, but he has no right to deny fate itself.

In other words, you die and he’s miserable.

Cw. It’s very fluffy trust me, Reader is absolutely fucked, you die, unrequited requited love, not proofread, really slowburn, character development, terminally ill, ansgt only bcoz fluff is for the weak, life is unfair.

A/n: You already know what it means when I upload a fanfic. If you don’t, my only warning is, shit’s going down.

(wrote this bc bladie won the poll for my other fic of which character u guys want a fic for next 🥳)

For all of Blade’s life, life has always been and will always be truly and utterly miserable.

If he were asked to recount the many times he wished he just died, he would lose count. From a promising life with the high-cloud quintet, from being the renowned crafter of weapons, to being just Blade. His pain does not give him the liberty to dream of a future, he does not have the privilege to close his eyes and dream of his youth when he is only constantly plagued with the thousands of screams who scream his name.

For a man who does not have the right to love, the right to dream and wish for death, just this once, the Aeons were kind enough to give him you.

He met you in unforeseen circumstances, he was gravely injured after another fight with some soldiers on some planet. Blade knows that he won’t die now, but he feels like dying. His stomach slashed by a poison so advanced it eats him from inside out, but oh how kind of the gods to bless him you.

”Hey, stay awake!” It was the first time in his life he’s heard a desperate cry, not out of fear for your life, but for his.

You did not know him, neither did he know you but it was like second nature to protect him.

The destroyer of worlds, the monster from the Stellaron hunters, the exiled one, you only saw a dying man.

He felt a damp cloth pressing on his stomach, “Please hang on.” Just who were you to tell him what to do? You just had to be there at that exact moment. Through blurry eyes, he could not make out what your face looked like, not like he could ever remember.

Blade could remember your voice, it was loud yet soothing, then he felt bandages wrap around his torso as someone carried him. He lost consciousness that night.

His eyes flutter open, was he really that weak to fall under the influence of that poison?

“You’re awake.”

He groans and sits up, his spine hurts like hell. “Who the hell are you?”

”Hey buddy, no need for hostility, I’m the one who saved your life.” His eyes follow you when you roll your eyes at him, ignoring his shit and jotting down whatever on your clipboard.

He stays silent when you come closer to him, your face getting a little too close than his liking, “Can you say ahh?”

Blade hesitates but he obliges, for the first time in his life, to a stranger, something in him tells him to trust you. “Ahh…”

You turn on your penlight and point it at his throat before sliding it back into your pockets, “Good, good” Blade doesn’t know what you’re doing when you stare in his eyes for 2 minutes, must be you inspecting something.

”You’re all fine, I’m surprised that you heal fast. Anyone who takes in such poison and exceeds 4 doses would die in an instant.” He thinks you’re weird.

…

In just 3 days, Blade was out of the hospital, Kafka tracked down where he was and was relieved when she found out Blade was alright.

“You’re really reckless, Bladie.”

Blade only scoffs hearing her words, it may be the truth but who cares? Certainly not him.

Just as the two were leaving the hospital for good, you followed him.

”You…” He saw you panting and gripping your knees from the exhaustion of chasing him down, he left without even informing the nurses.

He doesn’t know why you followed him, “Can I atleast have your name?”

Kafka blinks in surprise before turning away, as if she wasn’t witnessing whatever bullshit was going down.

”Excuse me?”

”Your name.”

”Why do I have to tell you?”

”I saved your life for fucks sake!”

Blade rolls his eyes, narrowing his eyes at you but he just gives up, “Fine, Blade.”

”What?”

”Do I have to repeat myself?”

He’s really mean, but he doesn’t scare you, which surprises him. You don't flinch at his words, but whatever. He thinks that he won’t have to see you again. (You almost crack up a laugh, who the fuck name's their child Blade?)

You don’t push him any further and let him leave, you want to learn more about him.

So for the following days, you ask people if they knew who that ‘Blade’ was, where did he work at, what he truly was because which idiot would end up wounded in a ditch at a place that’s practically considered a warzone in your planet. Not only that, but you were also intrigued and curious about his ability to heal fast and resist the poison.

You don’t find any information regarding that strange man, but one thing’s for sure, he’s dangerous.

Like clockwork, Blade comes again to the planet “Clove-V” to exterminate some pests because some idiot decided to mess with the Stellearon hunters. Gut a soldier, gain information, leave– is what he’s supposed to do.

Blade stares at the bloodied sword of his, “This goddamn poison again.”

He feels weak, clutching his stomach and he needs to leave before anyone catches up on him again. So he leaves the building only to drop unconscious.

Again, he is back to that familiar hospital room where he was just a few weeks ago.

”You’re back.” You scrunch your nose again, the squeaky writing on the clipboard hurting his ears.

He’s too tired to say something snarky, but he sighs in annoyance.

”You look worse than last time,” his gaze never leaves you when you come closer to inspect his throat and eyes like last time, “How do you keep getting in situations like these?”

He stays quiet, but you keep persisting with him to give you an answer.

Was he an assassin? A murderer?! One of the IPC slaves– no, no, he looks different from them, a little too proper (but bloodied), maybe from the Xianzhou luofu? So when you heal his wounds, you can’t help but ask, “Are you a murderer?”

Must you really force an answer out of him?

”Do I not look like one?” Were you such a fool to ask such an obvious answer?

You sat back down on the comfort of the cushion chair, “I didn’t want to assume”

”Now you know.”

“Yeah.”

He’s curious, when you find out that he’s a murderer, you’re not afraid, you do not run away or distance yourself, “Why do you kill people?”

He stays silent again, you don’t know the specifics, but you know the answer.

“I’ll get going now,” clearing your throat, “Just use the call button if you need help, one of the nurses will attend to you.”

And again, for 2 days, he is out of the hospital.

“You really keep ending up in that hospital, don’t you?” Kafka laughs, throwing away the Blade’s admission.

As they left, he could see you staring at him from your office. It was embarrassing enough that he caught you watching him leave so intently, Blade saw the curtains immediately close.

Again and again, he keeps getting wound up in that same hospital, might as well be stuck there forever.

”I’m no longer surprised you’re here again Blade.” It’s weird, when his name slips out from your lips, it sounds less scary (people often associate his name with fear and murder, but you call him like he’s any other man)

8 visits to your clinic, you might as well be his personal doctor.

“I know you’re a murderer but do you constantly have to be injured every month? I’m starting to think you’re getting injured just to see me.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” He scoffs.

”I was merely jesting.”

He cocks his head to the side, he sees you more often than he meets with Sam. You turn on your penlight again, unlike his first visit, he obliges without putting up a fight.

“Nothing unusual, you’re good to go.” You speak in between coughs, which surprises Blade. Lately, you were sicker than usual, pale and run-down.

”Are you okay?”

”Excuse me?”

”Nevermind.”

He should mind his own business, this is strictly a patient and doctor relationship. But he can’t help but wonder, if you looked that sick, shouldn’t you be on leave? You leave his hospital room without a word, he’s still curious.

He left, but this time, he didn’t see you looking out from your office window to watch where he was going.

Months pass by, by now he would’ve forgotten about you. But in the back of his head, he’s still wondering how are you? It isn’t for him to inquire about your personal life. He is still tempted to know more about you, so, he ends up wounded on that planet again (much to silverwolf’s dismay, he was supposed to be on a different mission)

He wakes up again in that hospital room, your coughs were loud enough to wake him up, “You keep coming back, I should just give you medicine so you don’t have to always end up here”

In truth, he just wanted to see you. It was unlike him to think about someone this much but he can’t help but be curious (worried, but he would never admit that.)

He felt the back of your palm press on his forehead, good thing he didn’t have a fever, “Your temperature’s okay.” He is worried, you speak in between coughs he could barely register your words. For a moment when you touched his skin, he felt his mara quelled, even for just a mere second.

“I want to ask, who are you really?” He’s taken by surprise by your question, something he expected but not one he expected now.

”I’m a stellaron hunter.” Oh.

A stellaron hunter, huh? “Why did you become one?”

He asks himself, why did he become one? Other than for when that day comes, he will be free, he will die. He can’t form a full answer, “I don’t know.” It’s better to give an answer, to lie, rather than be someone who cannot answer such a simple question.

“I see.” But you see through him, but you’re not close enough to him to question him about who he truly is. So you’ll know him through medicine, you’ll heal him to get to know who he is if he cannot give you a clear answer.

You gave him your name, because after 9 visits, he should know your name already. “What?”

”My name.”

He nods along, he’ll make sure to not forget it. You were sure he’s okay now, his vitals are back to normal, but before you leave, he calls out your name.

“You…” There was a look of confusion on your face, “Nevermind” He wanted to ask about your health, why were you still working? By seeing your current health, you’re close to death at this point. But he keeps his concerns to himself; after all, what does he know of you other than a doctor?

But even months pass by, he still wants to understand you. You do not look at him with contempt unlike his victims, and even if he had visited 12 times now, you did not seem annoyed; maybe even thrilled with the company.

He does not care for hobbies or games, he’s not like silverwolf whose life revolves around games and other things, he’s not like kafka who takes pleasure in playing with her food (her victims), he’s definitely not gentle and kind like Firefly.

So Blade does not understand why you’re fond of things like these, a monopoly board? Really? It’s stupid, very. But it’s the only way you two can understand each other, even if it means wasting time like this.

You rolled a 6 and landed on a community chest, “God damn it.”

He squints his eye when you got a card that said ‘Go to jail’, what the fuck was this game even about? “I don’t get this game”

He really doesn’t, but he rolls another and lands on some unclaimed property and buys it, “No shit, but you’re a lucky bastard.”

“I don’t get why we’re playing this stupid game, even checkers seem more appealing.” Finally getting out of jail, you rolled a 5 and landed on his property, going bankrupt. “You know what? Fuck this game.”

He doesn’t even understand how he won, he’d much prefer if you two read in silence or something. “That was a stupid game”

“You’re stupid.”

”Excuse me?”

Then you two go at it and fight again, but it was fun. The most fun he’s had in years (as if he ever knew what fun truly is)

But life is not kind, time is limited and you cannot trade gems or blood for 5 more minutes. He’s known that rule all his life, to never get attached ever again because he’ll be miserable, he’ll lose himself the way he lost who he truly was when he was still Yingxing. Yet, humans will always be humans; mortals, immortals, they are the same. And he is no exception.

After his 23rd visit for the past 2 years– going 3, he remembers small details about you. You studied at this university for a few extra years because you kept getting a failing grade, you like roping him up in stupid games (you tried to make him play twister once, it was you who got a twisted ankle), you like reading and everything else.

For all his cursed, miserable life, he slowly found reason, a part of him feels human again.

“You don’t look good.”

A stifled cough escaped you, “You think?”

You were on sick leave, he found out where you lived after asking forcing one of the nurses where you lived. Blade found you on the couch, sprawled with only a thin blanket covering you. He doesn’t care for anyone, just this once, though, just this once.

”Have you eaten yet?” It makes you laugh at how caring he is, the most unexpected side of him, after all.

You shook your head, “No.”

A cough seized you so suddenly, Blade’s worries did not go away. He doesn’t know how to cook, much less how to take care of a person.

”You have a fever,” he hands you a glass of water, but it was not enough to ease your pain.

You wish to close your eyes, but even the small contracting of your muscles ache, when you drink, it hurts, when you move, it hurts. It hurts to live at this point but you endure, “Why did you come?”

“I had to.”

”Why exactly?”

”Just shut up and let me take care of you.”

You could only faintly chuckle at his words when he gets a warm cloth to put it on your forehead, “What else do I do?”

Nighttime came but he has not left yet, he can’t leave just yet, “Tell me.”

There was no use, whatever he did would not help you get through with this illness of yours. “Just tell me.” You did not have the energy to argue or talk, but he did not get the hint so he continued to pester you for an answer.

”Can you please stop talking? I need to sleep.”

”Fine.”

Tomorrow came, only Blade was right beside you, staring intently at you; a part of him afraid you won’t wake up again.

”You’re awake.” Blade always had that nonchalant expression, but his eyes were heavy with worry. Were you dreaming or was he really right beside you and worried for your well being? A part of you wished you still were, having company is the best when you’re ill.

You coughed softly, “Yes.”

Why didn’t he leave? Was he worried? You must be insane to think that way, he is just your old patient who just so happened to always end up in the hospital under your care.

The man in front of you sat beside you and stared at you for a while, not knowing what to do, “What do I do next?”

Ah. He rarely shows emotion on his face but his pupils dilate for a split second, you can’t die but you were so close to dying, he’s no doctor, he has no expertise in taking care of anyone but for just this moment he wished he did.

“Just keep me company.” He nods.

Note: cries cries cries bc the full fic is so long i have to make it into 2 parts :((( im abt to post part 2 pls pls wait 😔😔😔

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[speedwalkingtheplanes]

i lie on my back and i refuse to look up

i set my gaze on the stars, an unblinking staring contest with all that is behind and before, except for Her. i lie on my back and let myself get settled before i finally speak my first words. “good evening, Moon.”

i don’t like to look at Her when i speak with Her. i admit that i’m not entirely sure why. perhaps it is because She frightens me. perhaps it is because i believe i frighten Her. perhaps it is one of a myriad of other reasons that, at the end of the day, matter very little because when you stop and think about it, i’m still not looking. She is nowhere near my field of view, as i intended, so what does any sort of reason matter? “things have been quite shitty as of late. i got fired. not sure if i can pay the rent this month.”

i do not look at Her, and yet i talk to Her still. i air my sorrows, my joys, my woes and successes. She knows of my hills and my valleys and my rivers and my canyons because they escape from me unbidden. every landscape and texture of my soul swallowed up by the night sky. or perhaps it is my heart, or my brain. or all three. or maybe just me. "but i went on a date. it was nice. he was nice. he wore a tie, he bought me my drink. and he didn't even get mad when i spilled it on him, he just laughed and told me it was okay."

i can always feel Her looking down at me when we speak. when i speak. Her gaze is soft and cold. maybe this is why i do not look. of course, how would i even know this? if i cannot see Her, how can i feel Her? if i do not look, how do i know that She is even really there at all? maybe this is why i do not look. "i don't think there'll be a second one, though. i don't know if it's him or me. maybe both. but probably me."

i am not afraid to look at the stars. the stars do not speak. they never have. i doubt they ever will. logically speaking, how could they? the stars we see are millions of lightyears away. by the time we see them, they have already burnt out and died, long before we ever existed. dead things cannot speak, even if we still wish and see them as alive. but the Moon speaks. She is alive, and i fear Her voice. "my relationship with my family isn't getting any better. my sister got into yale. full ride, too. i don't even think our parents are proud of her, just disappointed in me. disappointed that i didn't do the same. i'm proud of her."

i fear Her voice and yet i talk to Her still. why do i speak at something if i fear that it will speak back? am i truly so desperate to speak to something that can speak back that i willingly ask questions to One that i know will have answers? i fear Her answers. i do not think they will bring me the closure or even the apathy that i crave. "although i guess i could just be projecting. after all, i'm an outsider looking in. how can i tell what they're thinking? of course they'd be proud of her, she's their daughter. and why would they be disappointed in me? they already told me that i'm no longer their son."

i speak because She listens. i know that, somewhere within me. i don't know if i know that i know it, but i do. that was confusing. do i ever confuse Her? would She tell me if i did? should i tell Her that She confuses me? "i feel like everyone around me is happy for something. for life. my date laughed with a genuineness that i never could. my sister is going to her dream school for free. my parents have a child worth being proud of."

as those words leave my lips, i finally turn up to Her, and ask the one question i have always been the most afraid of. "what about me?"

there is silence for a moment, before Her voice echoes through my thoughts. WHAT ABOUT YOU?

this is why i do not look. i turn my gaze away from the Moon, stand up, brush off my jeans, and climb down from the roof. 

I wrote this a while ago, and I didn't really see any need to do anything with it. But, fuck it, here it is.

[fff777]

Watched WayV on joox live :3 (220104) (220208)

220104 Episode

I always knew Alexander as that guy who could speak a million languages (including Cantonese) from U-Kiss so it was cool seeing him get so excited about being able to speak different languages.

I didn't know anything about Ginny but her being like "我都係廣東人啊!" had me like YEAH!!!!!! Truly the Canto crowd today!!!!!! 4/6 of the people there can speak it.

And Xander being like "hehe our managers won't know what we're saying >3" No but he's so right

Omg but Xander bringing up Cantonese again like he is REALLY excited about people speaking Cantonese and like high key me too dude!!!!

Also Xander really switching between English, Cantonese, and Korean all chill. He's not the one who has to type subtitles anyway lol. Meanwhile Ginny is very professional keeping things in Korean :P

Dejun: I'd love to cover a Cantonese song but we don't have the copyright

林子祥 SUNBAENIM guys I'm crying X'D

DEJUN SANG 大哥 by 衛蘭 I'M GOING TO FUCKING DIE FROM HAPPINESS OMFG Janice Vidal was my favourite Cantonese singers ToT

I hope Yangyang and Qian Kun aren't feeling too left out ^^;;

WayV pets spotlight

Dejun doesn't mind Bella being clingy :3

Kun: I already know how to do so many things Kun flex

Next level

Yangyang's outfit is cool btw :3

Qian Kun & Yangyang: 你識唔識講英文? Kind of a flex but also I wonder if that was what Dejun was whispering into Yangyang's ear at the last minute XD

DEJUN DEADASS NAMED THREE NCT MEMBERS WRONG. I know he just got tongue tied though :P

Kun mentions both the Czennies and Wayshennies :3

Ten is unanimously the sexiest WayV

Xander asked for the point and Dejun was the go-to guy to demonstrate XD I don't know why but he fits that vibe :P Without Ten he is the representative for dance I guess :3

I know this is a lower budget show and Xander was like "guys can you get a shot of them again with the legs"

Omg Ten choreographed part of Miracle?????? Makes me love it even more now <3

When Yangyang said Kun was the cutest member and made him do cute poses at the camera and Xander was like "you're just teasing him." FINALLY someone stands up for this injustice XD

They had to pick the member who was coolest when angry and Kunyang pointed at Xiaojun and the little guy was just sitting like this while everyone laughed

Oh nooo Yangyang said that Dejun is cute when he's angry so it makes him want to mess with him TAT Dejun cannot live under this roof

OH RIGHT Kun's birthday is New Year's :3 It's nice that the show got him a cake :3

YEAH the Canto crew sang Kun the 福壽歌 (basically Cantonese Happy Birthday)

Xander so miffed that Yangyang was so good at English and didn't say anything because he did all the English heavy lifting for the day XD

Their final greetings still mentioned keeping safe during the pandemic, time really goes by so fast.

220208 Episode

On Kun's behalf Yangyang promised all Weishennies red pockets ^^;;

Hendery: 很大的煲 Except he said 很大的 in Mandarin and 煲 in Cantonese because he didn't know the Cantonese word for Cantonese and let me tell you, that is how a lot of Cantonese people speak Mandarin XD They just substitute Cantonese words in and hope people get it.

LMAO he was talking about 盤菜

Yangyang's pictures are pretty detailed, kudos :P

Ooh I actually didn't know Xiaojun played guitar :3 Hendery said he plays sad songs a lot

Kun's pictures of Yangyang were cute!!!!!!!! The way he wrote it as "Yangyang's day off" :3

Also the way Kun was like "Yangyang has a lot of clothes but HE GOES SHOPPING FOR MORE!!!!!"

Xiaojun's pretty and dense eyelashes in the spotlight :P

寫揮春!!

Kun explaining the arrangement in Turn Back Time :3

Xander keeps getting 99 team second guessing by being like "which version is it???"

Hendery finding the tiara after the wand and was like "哇, 這是one set 喔!" He was so excited about dressing Yangyang up as a princess.

Oh man I enjoyed this soooo much because like Xander, I was just so excited about seeing a bunch of Cantonese/Chinese speaking peeps together haha <3 <3 <3

[xsadcorebenji]

the only truth to my life

is just an endurance test

zeus had

eagles devour prometheus’s innards

repeatedly for an eternity

for simply bringing

the gift of fire

(“stolen” i mean ripped from the hands of such ugly tyrants)

and i wonder

is it

so bad,

that visceral physical punishment over and over

at least

someone loves you prometheus

you brought us all

a bouquet of fires

a crisis hotline person i called to keep me company

told me

that they commend me for just going through so much loss

please, i never asked

for such an endurance test and i didn’t ask for strength

i am doing my best not to be as bitter as so many people

i really try my damnedest

i don’t care if

a goddamn person in the world loves me anymore

or thinks anything kind for me

i just don’t want to be

anyone i’m blood related to

just too radically different peoples

i am so tired

i had a good night last night

and a good day during the day

but can the universe stop

fucking destroying itself after a cycle of two days every third day

there’s only so much

i know i get angry and i’m a rather difficult person to be with

but

i wish you saw me for the kind parts

i work so terribly hard to be kind however

i cannot tell what you’d consider kind from your perspective

i just never wanted to be like my family

kinda why i always just joke and talk about everything regardless of how comfortable or conscientious it is

i grew up with no one except for ppl who just bottled themselves up and turned themselves into landkinds

and they consider me

the biggest landmine

in this life

i worked very damn hard

to be someone unlike them

and i have friends who love me

and i don’t know

so many ppl want someone to tell that they’re proud of them or all these very kind things

i don’t want kind words,

i just wanted someone to love me deeper than i can love me

just hold my hand

from time to time

my thoughts always goes to a younger different version of you from the early days

whenever i am tired and lonely

i once had someone

who wanted to hold my hand during

good times and not so good times

hold my hand

just hold my hand

i just wanted

someone to hold my hand

during all of this

you once told me

during a day when i as reacting to an article i found infuriating

wrote a whole vent to the world

and you told me

you loved me because i always stuck to my guns regardless

just brazenly

and it’s hard to forget about

therapist

says i don’t really give a chance to let ppl to grow to love me

and i truly don’t

i loved that you wanted me around

even when no one else

really wanted me around

a hand to hold

i cried my entire life

for a hand to hold

still crying it seems

i don’t know or care to know who you are anymore

i just

really terribly miss

that person who loved me

all the time actually

just a phantom memory

a phantom heartbeat

i write so many metaphors and all these fantastical romantic soliloquies

i wish you never loved me sometimes

name a worst drug than the oxytocin produced by the warmth of romantic love

there isn’t one

what a terrifying addiction

and my goodness

the withdrawals

are exhausting

terrible night

just ironic

how you can be so fucking aggressive

and have someone reassure and shoo away all the guilt you have festering

and me,

i have to stand there

constantly and just let everyone think i’m a monster

a bastard

and just because

you think my partaking of psychiatric medication is an inconvenience for you

christ

christ

it is horrifying unfair

how easily

everyone wants you just because beauty standards

what good heart do you even possess

fucking god i never saw it

blood strings between us

and me

no one

loves me

like that

i miss

my old night stand lamp

telling each other good night after talking on skype

and reading 1q84

into the late hours

after you fell asleep

this lamp next to me

sleeping next to you over skype

who was the person who loved me so terribly

who was that person

she loved me so terribly

i loved her

too

but

i think i must’ve imagined everything

it just sounds so insane

especially now

in a world where everyone is so hurt and burned out

just no love or curiosity for one another

or rather

no curiosity for me it seems

i loved her

i didn’t want

anyone else

who even were you

why did you want to know me so much

who was that person

i don’t even know anymore

i’m so sad without her actually

i can still have fun

i can still laugh

and i can still cry and i can still have fun and i can still love myself

but she’s gone

she’s gone

that person who loved me is gone

i wish i could call her

i wish

i knew where to find anyone like her

she’s gone and fox is gone

and i am the saddest i’ve ever known

baby

the person that loves me doesn’t have a name anymore

i can only name myself but it surely is getting boring

baby

i loved her

who even was she?

that person

who loved me

please

hold my hand

my heart and chest hurts a lot

and i just don’t want to be alone

baby

where are you?

i am so alone

i want to love you

i wish you’d

show yourself anyone

someone

please

someone hold my hand please

tell me you love me please

i’m so tired

of watching everyone sympathize with that terrifying person

and me

i have

no one but a mirror

o god

my heart hurts

[damien-mlm]

if you asked them, they'd deny it all

DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT

HEAVY VENT, talking about some of my past mentions of child abuse, CSA, suicide and self harm I cannot stress this enough, do NOT read if you feel like you can't I will never hold it against you if you don't read this, I promise I just really need to get this out there

Not fiction, real life events

Let me preface this with the fact I've been trying to open up about myself, and I'm drunk at the moment

This is hideous, this is your last warning

Fuck, how should I even begin

There’s so much

Back in August, I first started to write out fiction as a coping mechanism

Making up angsty and gut-wrenching stories, putting my characters through hell

I put a little bit of me in each one of those

And I still haven’t told the whole story yet

Back then, I also said this

And it still stands

I’m tired of being tired

And I was almost gone in September

Only a handful of people know this, not even my parents know

Not that they would care enough to help, anyway

I’ve been on the edge of this cliff many times

Each time I was pulled away, either forcefully, or by sweet words that meant nothing in the end

Performative kindness, only meant to be seen by others, never to be actually executed when truly needed

I’m not worth their kindness, I never was

My whole existence was a whim

My mother wanted to get showered in praise and attention

My father wanted to prove himself as a man

That was it, that’s all they wanted

I was just a byproduct of it

And when it wasn’t what they thought it would be, they hated me for it

I had ruined their lives by existing, and they made sure I knew

What fucks me up the most is that, thanks to PTSD and C-PTSD, I barely remember anything

I just have bits and pieces, and they are all a fucking nightmare

It’s impossible for me to form a timeline of the events, it’s all jumbled and mixed together

In the two poems I wrote, I mentioned this

I wasn’t lying

And it fucks me up because I feel like I can’t even trust myself

The typical “Are you sure that’s how it happened?” “I don’t remember it like that” “Maybe you are misremembering things” get so much more painful because of this

No, I’m not sure

I don’t know anything

My life is a lie

But then, where do all the nightmares, all the flashbacks, come from?

Where do the scars come from?

Where does that involuntary fear response to their presence come from?

I’m so sorry

I dragged you all into this bullshit

I’m not special

I know I’m not the only one who’s suffering

I feel like I’m being selfish

I shouldn’t be here

I should’ve died back when I first tried to

13 years ago

That should’ve been it

So that nobody else had to witness this fucking wreck

I don’t even know why I’m around anymore

I said it was so that nobody would hurt over my departure, and that still stands

But maybe there’s something else?

I’m not sure if it’s spite, or hope

And I’m still afraid of actually telling what I do remember

I don’t want pity

I want understanding

I want to be loved and cared for

For who I am

For what I am

Not for who I was supposed to be

Not for what I was supposed to accomplish

To be loved for me

For being

I’ve been writing this for about an hour, and I've barely said anything at all

Don’t be scared now, I’m not ending myself tonight, I know I sound extremely ominous, but I promise you I won’t do that

I always say it’s a long story and I never actually tell it

I did mention I came to be as a whim

That wasn’t a lie

What’s baffling to me is how long it took me to actually find out

December 25th, 2018

I got to know the true reason why my parents had split up

I was 1 year old, so I had no notion of this, thank fucking god

But apparently, my mom couldn’t stand the fact my dad gave me, a baby who needed help to survive, more attention than her

So, she asked for a divorce and kept me

It sounds fucking ridiculous, I know

And I wouldn’t have believed it if I wasn’t me

But I am me, and I know how much she loathed me for years

I just never knew why

Turns out it was just for being a human with needs

It made so much sense to me

And to my dad, well I ruined his marriage, I was the reason why the love of his life had left him

And he might deny it, but I know he still resents me for it

Everything about him tells me he does

Both of them placed the blame on me

Not only for this but for everything that came after it

It’s all my fault, my doing, my mistake

When my other relatives would whisper about them, it was my fault

I wasn’t a good kid

I cried too much, I was too loud

I was too dramatic

I was too much

And now I’m not enough

And I don’t think I’ll ever be

It’s hard to talk about this when it’s all mixed up

Most of it is gone

But I remember a few things

I remember my mom accidentally burning my arms with her cigs too many times for it to be accidental at all

At one point, I just stopped trying to get close to her

I remember my dad making fun of the way I cried, calling me a Disney princess in the way I sobbed as a kid

I remember this was in front of other adults too, whenever I went to him for comfort

I remember I grabbed a knife and slashed my bedsheets once; I was too small, and I didn’t know how to express my own anguish

And my mom made me sew it back up and use it still

I remember I moved the living room chairs to make a bed for my plush dog as a kid

And my mom woke up from her nap and was enraged by the mess I had done

She slapped me so hard I fell back, turning, and hit my head on the edge of the wall

I had a huge bruised bump on my forehead

“If anybody asks, you tripped” she said

She must have learned that from one of her boyfriends, and I know exactly which one

This man was so vile, I hope I never have to see his face in front of mine again

Because I’m still forced to see him now and then

Flashbacks are involuntary, after all

He was abusive towards us both

That sick piece of shit

He took my innocence away from me

Stole it away for reasons I still can’t understand

I’m sorry to be so crude about it

But there are certain positions I just cannot do

They just take me back to that moment

“There’s a big man behind me, doing this to me

And there is nothing I can do to stop him”

It is the best way I can describe it without actually saying it

First time I tried to tell my mom about this, she said

“Yeah, maybe”

That’s all

I mean, what did I even expect?

I can’t place dates, but I’m pretty sure all this happened between the ages of 7 and 10

I started hurting myself at 11, back then I was convinced I deserved the pain

I was a bad kid

I deserved it

I got found out at 12 and everything went to shit, as if it wasn’t enough already

I got sent to a psychiatrist, and the lad said I needed anti-depressants

My mother refused

She had a better idea

To avoid me cutting myself, she would strip every single ounce of privacy I had

No room I was in was to have its door closed

No, not even the bathroom

Specially the bathroom

She would stand on the doorway and watch me intently as I did what I had to do

And when I showered, the curtain had to remain open too

That’s not all, but it’s all I can say for now

I don’t have the strength to keep writing right now

I won’t be sleeping tonight; I opened a bottle of wine and I have to clean this fucking house before it’s too late

My dad will come over tomorrow around noon to check on my progress, he said so on a voice message

I wish I wasn’t here

I wish I wasn’t

[chubby-chikorita]

I posted 2,889 times in 2022

That's 417 more posts than 2021!

46 posts created (2%)

2,843 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@chaoticgouda

@lesbiansagainsttheatre

@wizardpotions

@elytrians

@vamp1rate

I tagged 180 of my posts in 2022

#shut up chika - 61 posts

#chikas special interest - 53 posts

#queenposting - 39 posts

#listen chika - 20 posts

#kakegurui - 9 posts

#chikas family lore - 7 posts

#chikas dad lore - 6 posts

#he he i have friends - 4 posts

#no but really - 3 posts

#haha - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 97 characters

#my entire mental health is riding on a research project that i am absolutely not smart enough for

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

you know you’ve truly murdered cringe culture when you watch cringe compilations, not to cringe, but because you think the people in them are cool

3 notes - Posted February 11, 2022

#4

now fellas… is it gay if a girl asks you to feel how cold her hands are?? and you’re both physics students??? and girls??? and you barely know each other?? and you’re wearing pride laces??? and she gets you to feel her cold hands??? fellas???

3 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

#3

y’all ever take a sip of water so fuckin crisp it makes life worth living?? like damn, i might be worthy of love

3 notes - Posted January 15, 2022

#2

welcome to yet another rant about capitalism! please note that i literally wrote this on mobile just to vent my frustrations and it’s definitely not my best work, but i make some decent points, so i decided to post it anyway.

you know what pisses me off?? what really gets my goat?? the fact that normal people have to pull together to coordinate our purchases because we can’t trust the rich. we cannot give ourselves the most basic luxuries because we’re babysitting billionaires who will exploit it for money. we’re sat here quibbling over our individual carbon footprints, while they’re pumping poison into the atmosphere. why the fuck are we jumping through hoops to avoid plastic while they’re dumping toxic waste directly into the mouths of whales?? regular people are doing what they can to save the planet, at the expense of their own comfort and money, while the rich sit back on their hoard of wealth and tell us to just buy reusable bags. and don’t get me wrong, that is making a difference, but how much of a difference can it make, when spoilt politicians keep dragging their heels and just won’t do their bit? we can recycle til the cows come home, but until there is actual legislation, systematic change and at this point a fucking revolution we won’t see shit. we’ll buy greenwashed tupperware and they’ll sell it to us and throw the leftovers into landfill. we’ll stay home and clap out of the windows to our relatives in icu and they’ll drink cocktails with their buddies and chat about their holidays. change doesn’t happen until we call out hypocrisy, especially in the rich. a guy doing a litter pick with a plastic bin bag is doing a hell of a lot more than a selfish politician who made his hoarded fortune in sustainable tech. the worst of us are doing more than the best of them. fuck the rich and, most of all, fuck politicians. they don’t care about us.

19 notes - Posted February 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

girl help i am drowning. there is no sign of land. you are coming down with me. hand in unlovable hand.

22 notes - Posted February 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[kipperlillycopperkettle]

thg mean girls au is so fascinating to me

i. have no explanation for this, because like. i don't even really like mean girls, okay? i think it's heathers without the teeth. like, if nobody gets killed, what's even the point? also like i don't think it's even that funny and maybe that just bc i saw it meme'd to death before i ever actually saw the film but all that to say:

i realized cady is a nickname for arcadia, which is a greek name, and then i was like ‘that would be a good two tribute name’ and instead of, i don't know, adding a two tribute named arcadia to my hunger games spreadsheet, i promptly wrote 1,900 words of an au in which the mean girls are in the hunger games, and then i was like. wait i don't actually even care about mean girls. why am i writing this. and stopped. however what i did write actually kind of fucks so it just gets to live in eternal limbo in my drafts now ig. also it's in second person for some reason i cannot explain. another thing i cannot explain abt this fic.

also wren is karen i just needed to give her a more hunger games-y name to make it work in my brain

“what are you doing with the pack?” the girl from seven asks quietly. you’re at the fire-starting station, whilst regina and the others are at the throwing knives station. you can see regina out of the corner of your eye, cleaning the underneath of her nails with a knife blade. you try not to shiver at her gaze, which is trained on you.

“what?” you ask. 

“i mean, listen, no offense,” the girl from seven goes on. “but like, you seem way too nice to be in the career pack.”

you blink at her and stifle a laugh. this is what they wanted when they put you in the games, isn’t it? “i’m from two,” you say. “i can think of six ways to kill you with those sticks you’re holding.” you can hear your own voice, and the threat sounds dull, as though you’re simply reciting it from memory from a textbook. you run your tongue over your teeth and remind yourself that the district seven tributes are rarely a threat, and this one is simply pushing the limits.

that should be enough of an explanation. but the girl from seven only laughs, throwing her head back and showing her teeth. regina has taught you that the bearing of teeth is a threat. so what the girl from seven has done should be a threat. but it isn’t.

“damian, get over here!” she calls, and her district partner, large but clumsy, half-runs over from where he’d been chatting with the trainer at the edible plants station.

“what?” the boy who must be called damian asks. “i was busy learning which plants you can and can’t eat. okay, mostly which ones you can’t. turns out most of them will kill you. who would’ve guessed?”

you snort a little at this — ‘<i> it’s the hunger games, after all, </i>’ you think to yourself. ‘<i> of course the plants will kill you. </i>’ — as damian settles his chin into his hands. “i told you two girl was too nice for the pack,” she crows, almost proud. 

damian eyes you like you’re some kind of muttation on display. “ooh,” he croons, in a perfect imitation of [caesar flickerman figure], “janis, do we have a full blown career in our alliance? the sponsors will just eat that up!”

regina’s gaze on you is icy, and you know every second you spend with the pair from seven, the more of a threat you are. “no,” you say cooly. “you don’t. stay away from me.”

you stand up and walk back to the other girls, where gretchen and wren immediately mob you with comments about the pair. the both of them, apparently, are into the same gender, and your nose wrinkles appropriately at that. nevermind that the thought of kissing another girl makes your toes curl and a shiver run down your spine for reasons you can’t quite explain. you hit the target three times with the throwing knives, and all the while, regina’s cold, hard stare is trained on you. 

you pretend the target is regina, and you aim another knife at the target.

it lands right in between target-regina’s collarbones.