Speed

I’m Angry. Can You Tell?

I also write poetry. I prolly write more poetry than anything else really.

Anger is easy to feel.

Easier to manage than abandonment,

Easier to manage than bitter disappointment,

Easier to manage than crippling despair.

It is so easy to feel fiery fury,

And expect justice to soothe those flames.

It is so easy to be in denial

To cling to it.

To let it have you think things can be different,

That it can be better.

If only you are are angry enough, 

Passionate enough to command change in every facet of the universe.

So yes, anger is easy.

Easy to swallow,

Easy to let burn,

Easy to pull out and use as a shield.

It is easy as it is empty.

Fruitless in its gains

Barren in its answers

A tempting, hellish, warm, void for the lost who cannot deal with the cold, unfeeling nature of life.

And yet to embrace life as frigid is to surrender.

It is to resign yourself to a dreary, insipid existence,

An existence of the same ruthless, unwavering pain.

Rage cannot change circumstance,

But submission will yield no revolution.

Be enraged,

Angry,

Pissed,

Fucking furious.

For you burn bright as you do, if only for yourself.

  Be weary and disillusioned when there is nothing left but Death’s waiting hand,

Be weary and disillusioned when you can do no more. 

Yield your rage when there is nothing left to burn.

It is easy to be angry.

Easier than holding expectations,

Easier than nobility,

Easier than infinite patience.

And for peace, it is just.

Rating cat activities

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Thanks everyone for the prompts! I decided to try and knock these all out in one go:

@thegirlwhotrashcans: remember, you asked for it. au, nobody dies, wwx and yanli bodyswap. they’re married to lwj and jzx. 100% crack. bonus points if jin zixuan completely loses his shit and lwj looks very calm but loses his sh*t after everything is back to normal

@alightbuthappypen: Competency kink! One or both of them (when I say ‘them’ I mean wangxian obvs, I know what I’m about) getting hot and bothered about the other being amazing. On a nighthunt maybe? Or anywhere else that strikes your fancy!

@hearteyeswangji: WRITE MORE P*RN

I think I can manage that. With a few tweaks, accidental seriousness, and broad, ridiculous fix-its tacked on. I have no idea how long this might be. Let’s try it in installments? I’ll reblog and add on as I go. Maybe it’ll be fun. We’ll find out.

Disclaimer that this is just gonna go for it with no revising and no beta readers, so pls do not hold me to any conceivable standard of coherency thx

–

WILL INCLUDE: wangxian, xuanli, let jyl and lwj be friends agenda, canon divergence, fix-it, everybody lives, arranged marriage, bodyswap, light angst, getting together, Attempts at Comedy, eventual (light?) wangxian smut

The Sunshot Campaign has just been won. Everyone goes over to Jin Guangshan’s house after the Nightless City banquet, to Negotiate Stuff, and some hasty political marriages happen resulting in Xuanli Wedded Bliss and Wangxian Un-confessed Wedded Tension. Then, suddenly…a curse befalls our brave heroes.

–

Wei Wuxian wakes suddenly, feeling odd. He’s sleeping on his stomach for one thing, which is not his usual, but he feels warm and comfortable enough that he doesn’t think it strange. But then there is the scent of peonies and gardenias, which is both familiar and alien, somehow. It makes him open his eyes. 

Which is when he sees the hand before him on the bolster. It is slender and elegant. Small. Pale. Familiar? Wearing a jade bangle. He pushes himself up a bit, startled, only to see the hand move when he does. 

The hand. Is his hand. He stares at it. The shock of it, coupled with the early hour, leave his mind working very slowly.

Keep reading

if anyone needs me i'll be frothing at the mouth thinking about the origin of language and interspecies communication. happy wednesday.

I’ve done it for Good Omens, I’ve done it for Sherlock, now here’s one for RTD era DW characters

Everyone friend group should include:

A bimbo

A mean bisexual

An even meaner lesbian

A she/they

A he/they

A token straight that’s on thin ice

An astrology bitch with who has everyone’s birth charts memorized

A short king

Listen, MDZS/untamed/all-the-other-ones-I-dont-know-them-all is sad. Like it hurts my feelings sad. Such fucking angst, right.

But sometimes I think about Wen Ning and i get extra sad cuz he's so PURE AND NICE. And he's also the Ghost General and I dont even know man, just the idea of that happening, the forced shedding of innocence and shit, breaks my heart. This also goes for Lan Xichen. Hurt my feelings bitch, goddammit

I mean he definitely got the nicest one 😌

Running from Empty Meadows to Barren Fields

So, I’mma post my first thing here. It’s kinda awkward, I don’t know why; I’m just weird like that. I’ve decided to go with a safe option, it’s been published before, technically. My url’s sorta a lie. I got shortlisted in this contest and got shoved in a book with the others who were shortlisted and the winners. But yes, the story - here:

The mutilated carcass that lay before here had belonged to a young man, a boy really, he could not have lived for more than fourteen years.

She sits down. The ground beneath her is hard and dusty, it’s fertile crust pounded away by fleeing families and the men who march after them. The grass that struggled to emerge grew scattered and brittle, stained brown by the harsh sun. She wonders who it came to this.

She has memories of frolicking in lush meadows. Back then, laughing smiles glinted in a golden sun. Her youth was a perfect, though humble, one. But she turned twelve and whole realms fought over bruised pride. Her own kingdom was wrecked into pieces that nobles still fight to command today.

The politics of it all does not concern her. No, she has been personally wronged by the bastards who stole a chunk of her heart. Wretched shrieks pierce the air. Skin blisters in the heat of burning homes. Blood runs cold at the dead toes curling in the fire. Lungs itch from the pyre’s ashes, from what is left of Mother and Father. Eyes are scorched dry by the searing need for vengeance.

The rumble of distant thunder drags her out of the past. Her hands are sticky form congealing blood. Her eyes are still dry. She feels hollow.

She huffs. Gnawing emptiness ruined her life. It chased from her from her only home with nothing but Rael and the essentials in hand. It would smother her lest she stopped running from it. For now, she has eluded desolation. She has never stilled long enough for it find her.

The crackle of lightning breaks her brooding. Her skin is drawn uncomfortably tight by the drying blood. In the distance, the dark overcast is lit up by flashes of light. She smiles bitterly at how that reminds her of Rael, her darling brother. Her shoulders sag as her guilt strikes her. She fed him lies and he ate them all up.

“I just can’t stand that village anymore Rael. I need a fresh start.”

“That’s a brilliant idea, Maeve. It’s just what we need.”

He did not know that she learned to track down army camps and kill with stealth. He did not have the slightest clue that she revels in the blood dripping along her forearms or how sated she felt from it. They lived happily like that for years.

It was perfect until she turned sloppy, until she was caught smirking amid dead brothers-in-arms. She failed to find that lone survivor and eventually retreated back to Rael. She did not catch so much as a glimpse of that soldier for weeks.

She realizes then that he must have sought to destroy her, for her last beloved lay gutted and wretched before he lunged at her.

She killed him easily, far too easily for a man clever enough to evade her. In her rage, she dissected him as he had her brother. She let his blood dry on her skin and watched the red film crack as she held yet another funeral.

Warm rain shocks her out of her memories. It washes away the dried blood and gore. She sees the thunderstorm approaching from afar, violent and unstoppable as she is.

She sees how ruthless she has become. Her restraint, her humanity is gutted, wretched, and burned away, its ashes blowing in the wind, as her family is. Now, she carves into bodies and shatters bones. There is too much pleasure and power to be taken from torture to settle for an easy kill. She conquers evil, those who wage war for dominance. She owns life and it brings her untold ecstasy. And she has no remorse for any of it.

But the boy before her now was so young.

The storm finally arrives, and it is wreaking havoc. The ground fails, to take in the downpour, and so water runs across the surface. The rain beats down the tufts of grass rather than helping it prosper.

She that that the ground’s fertile crust just might grow back in a few decades of peace.

The rain is too warm, the air is too think, and it feels too much like fresh blood now. It thrills her. She looks back at the boy she mauled. She cannot bring herself to flinch, and despite her qualms, euphoria takes her.

It's 10:52 and I just woke up from a nap. Why am I napping at night, you may ask? It's cuz I'm a HEATHEN.

But no I been thinking. What the fuck is up with people going the Egyptians couldn't build the pyramids, they didn't know calculus. That's a thing right? Tell me if I'm wrong.

But I'm be operating under the presumptions that it is. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW IT'S NOT A THING. MOTHERFUCKING AUGUSTUS CAESER BURNT DOWN THE GREAT LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA. Also, like, if Isaac Newton discovered calculus in the 1600s, some 600 years after the dark ages, how come the Egpytians couldn't do it? They got together in 3100 BCE and production started in like 2500 BCE. Good timing to figure out what calculus is.

These are my thoughts in this fine evening. I must study now and hope to find sleep in a few hours. Good night.

So, India is dying.

Look, I know a good number of you are from the US and things aren't amazing there either, but my country is literally on the brink of collapse. So I'd love it if we could talk about that for a minute.

If you can't do anything else, please just read and reblog.

A second COVID wave has taken out the healthcare system. There are no more hospital beds. There's an oxygen shortage. There's a critical vaccine shortage. The Central Government has thrown its hands up and is passing the baton to the State Governments to do what they can.

There are over 16 million covid cases. A record 330,000 new cases reported yesterday - comparable to the US at its peak. 187,000 dead as of today.

There is no plan.

Mass cremations are taking place. The cremation grounds are running day and night and they are short on wood. People are watching their loved ones die while waiting for a hospital bed, and then they're unable to give them the proper burial rights.

Hospitals are overwhelmed. Patients are being confined, two to a bed. They're the lucky ones.

We are on the verge of people dying in the streets.

This is the second-most populous country in the world. The largest democracy. A country that encapsulates over 15,000 years of recorded human history and has endured everything from famine to invasion to colonisation.

We might be at the end. This might be the thing that does us in.

People are dying.

People are dying.

People are dying and there is no plan.

More good news? Variants are popping up. A double mutation strain has shown up. It is resistant to current vaccines. This will not go away. This is the devastation they warned of when the anti-maskers were out protesting the minor inconvenience of covering their face in public.

My country is on the verge of an emergency state. Our government has failed us. This is as dire a situation as it ever could be.

Look. I don't do much with my life. I write fics, some of you have read them and that's pretty much it. I spend my days with my head in the clouds because that's where I like to be.

But two days ago, my grandmother tested positive, had to be taken to hospital and the ambulance caught fire.

She barely made it to the urgent care she needs.

So, here I am, using whatever meager platform I have to cobble this request together. Because I have to do something.

If you can, donate.

Or spread the word.

Help. Please.