whyshouldntiwrite

[whyshouldntiwrite]

TW VIOLENCE AND REFERANCE TO FORCED WING REMOVAL

She has her back turned to the detective, and the bell's broken, so she doesn't notice him walk in as she takes her jacket off. On her back, there are two scars.

She was always tense around him like she had something to hide, especially when he brought up the local organized crime. He knew there was something there, he just didn't know she's a victim.

"Hey, Draxine." The detective's voice is low and full of concern. These scars were older, but she got them within the last two years. They couldn't have been from the last four months, or he would've noticed her not being used to it. She jumps when his voice reaches her ears. She turns to look at him bedore speaking.

"Hey, Detective, what can I get you? She decides not acknowledge the scars her open-back dress showed him. No wonder she always wore a jacket when he was there, she wanted to hide her shame from him.

"I'm thinking a neopolitan today."

"Alright, then, I'll get that." She turns away from him again and goes to grab a bowl.

"So, how did you get those scars?" He calls out to make sure she hears him from the back. She knows he won't leave it alone so she gives a vague answer.

"I let a secret slip."

"Did you report to the police?"

"No."

"Then what?" She goes silent for a moment before the door opens and a familiar face walks in.

"What's the... oh. You didn't tell me someone was here."

"That's because you weren't supposed to be here for another hour, Ricardo."

"I just wanted to know early, can you blame me?" Draxine gives a deep sigh before responding.

"No, I can't, however I can blame you for not telling me you're coming early." She looks at detective Aldrich and sees that he recognizes Ricardo, not as a friend, but as one of those he's meant to investigate.

Ricardo offers to come back in half an hour and Draxine agrees. He leaves and there's a minute of silence before she hands the detective his ice cream.

"So, you work for them, then? That would explain how you know so much." She sighs again and her hands tighten around the counter's edge.

"I do."

"What's your role then? Did their opponent give you that scar?"

"No, they did."

"Why?" After he asks there's a moment of silence as she reaches back over her shoulder and her hand falls flat against it, toward the back.

"A songbird only sings for her master. Otherwise, she gets her wings clipped."

He says nothing as he finishes eating his bowl of ice cream. He realizes based on the scar's position it's not just a metaphor. She used to have wings before they got forcibly removed.

He pays her before asking one last question. "Do you miss flying?"

She looks back at him with a pain in her eyes. One that resembles loss. She doesnt need to say a word for him to know, she cared deeply for flying and she is struggling without it. He nods before leaving.

[whyshouldntiwrite]

I hear the door open and turn my head in that direction. In my kindest voice I ask: "How can I help you?"

"Oh, well, I just could swear I've been cursed with bad luck." This person has an annoying high pitched voice. I wouldn't wouldn't be surprised if she was, however, she's not. Which means I have to do some bs fake ritual.

I realize I have to respond as well. "Alright, well let me just set the cleansing ritual." She doesn't say anything, but she did move out of the way, so I assume that means this person understood. I begin setting the candles into a circle and have her light them. I tell her "it's to get your energy into the candle, and your energy will hold the curse's energy." She'll believe that, right?

I hear the lighter click, so I assume she does while I grab for a flower. I set us both in the middle and say some bs things and when we're done I smile. "With that, it should be cleared."

She responds to my statement "Oh, thank you! Now I can finally go to my date tonight without worrying!" I nod, go behind my desk and grab a geranium and hand it to her. I call her stupid with a flower. Does she know that? No, otherwise she would have reacted. She smiles, thanks me again and walks out after paying.

What is it with people? Do they just think just because they have an issue that they're cursed? I'm also 90% sure that I'm not the only person willing to remove curses nearby. I suppose I am the only person who'll bs them and play along with their false ideas. Maybe I shouldn't have opened this place as an open mystic, just as some person who can happen to see the future here and there.

Oh well. I have to close so I can go to the bar/Cafe and talk to my friend. I walk up to the door and leave, listening to check that I'm locking it properly. I don't usually have lights on and the candles go out on their own. What a frustrating day, usually at least one person is right, however today no one was. Oh well, a good drink will make me feel better.

[whyshouldntiwrite]

People always think ace means aroace. It doesn't. I just want to have a partner without people going but aren't you asexual?"

Yes, I am, but that doesn't mean I can't have a partner. In fact, I've had several. None of them were my forever, but that doesn't mean I didn't love them, they just weren't my soulmate.

A lot of them because they couldn't handle my "no sex" rule. That's always frustrating. I just want someone who will work with me on that. I just want a partner who will love me without that, is that so wrong? Is that so hard?

I suppose I can go without. I've gone this long without, and I can continue like this. I'll just keep dressing "like a slut" and just keep talking about the things I like and wait for the right person to come along.

[whyshouldntiwrite]

Hey, can y’all rb this if it’s okay to send you messages asking about your ocs, cause on god I wanna interact with y’all but I am terrified of being annoying lol

[whyshouldntiwrite]

Welcome to My Friend and I's Magical Realm (They Also Have an Account)

I originally made this to respond to one of their posts with the same scene from the other person's perspective, but then I decided why not give this a go on my own?

Here I am now, posting about our OCs, world, and mythology. It's nice to meet y'all, and I hope you have fun! I at the very least someone is entertained by this whole thing.

@malholdingcontroller

[whyshouldntiwrite]

The Mirror and Me (A New Feeling)

I look in the mirror and smile. I can see my fangs in it. I can see my body in it. I can see my face in it. My eyes, which take me off guard. I know, strange, but that's how it is. That's how I am.

I'm glad they removed silver from mirrors, I can finally see my reflection after a long time. I look so different. I look so much older and yet I've aged so little. It's been a while since I've turned. It's amazing for me to be able to see myself in the mirror

I noticed my face first. All the features are shifted. My nose is smaller, my lips are lighter, and my skin is paler. Then I notice my eyes. They've changed. My eyes, which were once a shade of hazel, are now silver. Then I noticed my body. It's aged by about 6 years, despite hundreds having passed, and it's thinner.

I remember coming home. I remember seeing dad and him just knowing. I remember the feeling, which is returning at the memory. I remember the pain, the increased sensitivity of all of my senses. It's all still there, I'm just used to it now.

My reflection, though? It's a new feeling. I haven't been able to look at it in a long time. I missed it. I still do. Is this reflection even mine? It's so different. My hair hasn't changed, and that's about it. AM I really that different? I suppose now I can put on makeup and do other things without the struggle.

[whyshouldntiwrite]

A Stranger in a Room

TW MENTIONED LOSS OF AUTONOMY

I hear something in the background as I zone out. I see someone with a glazed over look in their eyes, clearly not all there, but it's in a different way than me, I can tell. Their in a hypnotic trance. I see a smile creep on their face as the person they've been talking to puts them under.

I know they agreed to it. I overheard them talking about it with this person, it's going to help them, but it still makes me anxious. My own memories creep up on me. I see myself losing my autonomy. I see him messing with my head. I wish it could just go away, but it can't, so I just carry it with me.

Maybe someday, someone can teach me a way it can be used gor good without my anxiety spiking. Maybe, all it'll take for the fear to go away will be someone's presence. Maybe I just need therapy, but that sounds expensive.

The person I'm conversing with must have picked up on my zoning out, because they pointed it out.

"Ser, hey, focus. What do you want?"

"Sorry."

"It's fine, just tell me what you want, and don't focus on it. I can see how anxious it's making you."

[whyshouldntiwrite]

TW DOCTOR DEALING WITH A BAD DAD

I look at this man. He cannot be serious.

"What did I say?"

"I'm sorry, did you just tell me... periods are a scam?"

"Yes."

"You're telling me that your daughter, who is bleeding out of her vagina, clutching her stomach in pain, and very moody, isn't on her period?"

"Yes. That's why I came to see you, to figure out what it really is."

"Sir, I don't know how to tell you this, but... she's on her period."

"That's not-"

"Another doctor can have you." I walk out of the room and walk up to one of my coworkers and explain the situation. His jaw drops. He nods and heads in there, i give him a peice of chocolate to give the girl, because she looked like she was about to low up on her father. I can't handle that. Not again.

I remember dad telling my sister about that. He thought periods are a myth too, but he admitted he was wrong when she got hers. This dude would not. My dad may have been awful, but he wasn't that bad about that.

[whyshouldntiwrite]

TW MENTIONS OF DEATH AND (MANY, INCLUDING SEX, HARMING, AND REVIVAL CURSES

I look down at my body, standing in front of the mirror. I run my hands across my tattoos and I think back to how I got each one. Each curse I've collected. The first through the most recent.

The first one, gods, how long ago was that? I look to the tattoo of a cat eye. The one I chose for the revival curse. I'm still waiting for the final death. Still waiting for the final time I die before it's permanent.

I look to my tattoo of a peacock. A flightless bird, reflecting what the curse does. I can't use my wings without immense pain. Sometimes I wish I hadn't taken it. I miss the feeling of the air against my body at a high speed.

I run my fingers across my stomach, just above my most frustrating curse. It's a curse that hinders my existence, but it's also helped me not be shy with my wife. A tattoo that almost looks like the mark if a sex demon, fitting since it gives me the same hinderence they have. It's at the very bottom of my stomach, just above my crotch. Only difference is that I have a bunny ear shape on top.

I feel my wife's love as soon as she walks into the room. I'm still getting used to feeling that joy she gets whenever she walks into the room and sees me.

"What are you doing, love?"

"Just... looking."

"Well, can you come back to bed, I want more cuddles." As soon as she finishes that sentence, I walk over and we do exactly as she asked.

[whyshouldntiwrite]

TW MENTIONS OF DEATH

I wake up to the feeling of my wife on my arms. I don't remember when I fell asleep. I think we were just watching a movie together and I guess I did. I almost wish she woke me up so I could've spent more time together. Maybe then I wouldn't have dreamed of the same thing over again.

She knows me, though. She knows I needed a break. She knows I've been tired for days. It's 2 am and I realize that the tv's still on. I turn it off and hold my wife closer to my bare breasts.

The feeling of her body on my flesh is a comfort. It reminds me she really is there, and not just for now. She's here for the rest of my existence. She won't leave me. She won't hurt me as many others have.

Nights when my head screams of bloodshed and death. Nights when I see my own body freezing. Nights when I hear gunshots and see myself stabbed. Nights when i feel electricity flowing through me. Nights like these when all I think of is the time loop and every death.

I bring my hand up to my wife's hair and run my fingers through it. It's grounding. The feeling of her petite figure in my arms. The feeling of her being right there. Knowing that she wants to stay. Knowing that she'll protect me, as will I protect her.

I love her so much. I'd divorce her just to remarry her. She's not just a distraction as so many others have been. She isn't just here for my body, she's not here for control, no, she's here because she loves me. She makes me take care of myself and probably wouldn't be happy to know I woke up at 2 am.

I'm finally calm now and I decide to try sleeping again. I pull her closer to me and I close my eyes, the feeling of her against me. Her warmth better than any blanket in the world, I can finally drift off. In the morning, I'll have to thank her.

[whyshouldntiwrite]

I've seen it a hundred times, that beautiful look when he sees me. A smile that takes his lips that I can't help but smile at myself. Those eyes that hold so much love that I never knew someone could hold.

It's a wonderful thing when he comes to class, brining me lunch because I forgot it. The way the students noticed the rings on our hands. It's funny catching them watching his streams in class.

I won't lie, they've learned to take advantage of my love for him when I catch them doing that. How could I not, though? His beautiful, kind eyes, his wonderful long hair. His wonderful fun personality, his voice that reflects this.

Everything about him is amazing. I can never find the words to express it but it's true. I could give him the world and it still wouldn't be enough.

The only problem is he stares at me sometimes when he cooks. This is the third time this month he has almost set the kitchen on fire.