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You’re a Queen When No One is Watching-
Why is it, in the late darkness of night,
When beasts roam my bedroom floor and monsters reach out from beneath my bed,
When everyone sleeps, but for the wild imagination lurking behind my eyes,
When I’m at my loneliest and most vulnerable,
My most wild, euphoric, depressed, inspired and wisest self,
That I am at my most beautiful?
When I decide I will no longer attempt to succumb to sleep’s blissful embrace,
When I enter a room with Alice’s looking glass,
And see the circles beneath my eyes, the gentle curve of my lips, and sharp lines of my once full face,
Why do I look like a goddess of war, the judge of your soul beyond death, the unstoppable, raging force of a true queen...
Why does the real me choose to show herself when there is no one there to see the rawness of being a real human being...
When no one is there to love the part of you that you love yourself.
The you you hide,
To save that last little bit of light from the darkness of others...
A bedtime thought...
The farther I look
the further I walk
down the only path I see for myself
I realize that my happiness shall come from the love of my passion
yet my sadness will come from the lack of anyone to share it with
for this path has no one else to walk it with me
no one else to share it’s delights
I shall be happy, yet I will be sad
I will be alone.
Remember when you read for fun, instead of escapism?
Good times.
no shape, no form.
I stare at the vanity
Yet, My eyes aren't looking
All that is there for me to see is a figure
It blurs and blurs I still cannot figure
No shape, no form
I must reform
How? It’s said souls flow into creeks
Taking the shape they please
But I cannot fit into a mold
I have no definition
Nothing worthy of attention
Maybe this is how it’s meant to be
floating around with no destiny
I'll do that for eternity
I'll latch into what I find in front of me
Till one day it tells me it needs me
I don't know who I am
But maybe that's fate
For I aspire to elate within everything
Nothing in this world and its luxuries
Can limit me
I simply am free.
THE OTHER SIDE
theirs this wall made of iron and steal blocking me of the far near I'm no brave man to climb all for I fear the fall Lost, I always seem to walk around its edges What is behind, I ask myself too many times maybe a gleamy forest withholding lilly fields but in my mind it's dark full of starving wolves that lurk curiosity is a sin, I need a redeemer some say it is liberating to be a dreamer but is the freedom worth the injury?
DAYDREAM
‘’They say a soul with a vivid imagination can live in their own world…I just never thought id get so lost in mine.’’ - Joud Aburashed
THE LETTER (by joud abu rashed)
Words: A single distinct meaningful element of speech or writing, used with others (or sometimes alone) to form a sentence and typically shown with a space on either side when written or printed. Words are a way to express one’s self, they show emotion, they might hurt someone, end relationships, start wars, they can be used as a weapon, since words are an important factor of both freedom and democracy, but most importantly words impact people, either negatively or positively depending on the situation. the war has ended a year ago marking a new age of democracy, it started since poverty was spreading like an illness due to the evils of monarchy so naturally the people protested their rights using their words but they weren’t heard the government was deaf to their pleas so a war eventually broke out in order to gain justice. Chaos and confusion that’s was how I lived after all I was a child an orphan who lost both parents and any sense of peace or security I ever had. I was lost, starving, with no will to live in this cruel world. Along with the bloodshed, something happened or rather someone came and rescued me.
His name was Ashton Arlert, He was a kind man with a heart of gold. He took me in, provided me with every necessity. He taught me how to read and write, how to use a gun and protect myself just in case I find myself in a difficult position, but most importantly he gave me a will, a will to live. After years of suffering the war ended which lead me to decide to live a normal life, so I moved out to pursue my own career as a ghostwriter in a small company. You see after the war there was a huge decrease in people who knew how to write, which meant ghostwriters (especially for letters) became widely popular. My job required me to listen to people, to observe and analyze their emotions then find the right words that fit the message they want to present. I had my own life, friends, responsibilities, etc yet Ashton never left my mind, he was like a father to me and I never showed him how much I appreciated what he had done towards me so I decided to write a letter to him. I was a professional writer with tons of experience yet I struggled with it (ironic isn’t it). For days and days all I would do is stare at an empty piece of paper with a cramped hand longing for words. Needless to say I was frustrated. I wrote and I wrote as if I was running out of time but nothing, just nothing. Everything I wrote would soon become another crumpled piece of paper in the trash, till one day while the smell of my morning coffee was mixing with the smell of ink coming from my pen I suddenly found the words that I longed for. I ran to the post office with the feeling of relief in my lungs and a hint of excitement in my eyes. It was a quite night when he received the wax sealed letter, he looked at the handwriting a sense of nostalgia flooded him. He held it with his wrinkled hands as he read it with tears flooding his ocean blue eyes. The letter simply said “Thank you, Ashton, for everything. Sincerely Nadia” A simple phrase that’s all it took to bring a grown man to tears.
(Idealism is a disease) by joud abu rashed
Idealism is a disease
Once it enters your system it feeds off of your mistakes
It spreads like a wildfire making you quake
Symptom after symptom you start to hallucinate
A thought becomes a reality
There’s no real definition of actuality
All you can do is live in brutality
And endure that cruelty
There’s no one to blame but that little voice in your head
Making you wish on sweet death
Whispering to you as if it was your own closest friend
The doctors say there’s a cure
One that’s pure
But there’s a price
First you have to apologize
To the body you forced to idealize
A vulnerable state of you past mistakes
Drowning you in a lake
The water reflects an image of grief and regret
As it overwhelms you slowly you start to forget
A cold breeze of acceptance washes all over you
A warm feeling is new
A smile takes over you
Now you are cured.
this poem speaks about my struggles with anxiety and perfectionism. I hope you find a sense of comfort in it
𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡. 𝟏𝟎 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐀
The Wyvern, a magnificent creature with its sleek, serpentine head and a menacing hiss, was determined to escape the encroaching civilization. Its two powerful forearms clung to the walls as it scaled with its rough, twelve-meter-long body covered in earthy brown scales. Four clawed legs supported its weight as it traversed the urban landscape, its thin, leathery wings allowing it to glide over chasms and obstacles. These wings, when not in use, revealed the wyvern's rugged, flexible skin along its forelegs and ribs. Along its spine, a striking crest of bristly, vibrant red fur added to its camouflage in the crimson forests, making it nearly invisible among the foliage.
Adorned with a wooden mask resembling a barn owl, the figure confidently taunted the pursuing guards, their heart-shaped face pale with buff and grey colouring, large forward-facing eyes, and a painted downward-pointing bill. They sat astride on the wyvern, the dark beige panelled skirt reaching their knees and paired with black tights, black boots, and sage green leg warmers trimmed with white fur. Their sage green top boasted long semi-bell sleeves, complementing skintight black fingerless gloves that stretched up to their elbows. An umber brown waist-length poncho, adorned with feathers matching the mask, completed their ensemble. Their untamed black hair was woven into a thick braid, and adorned with small golden bell earrings on their semi-exposed ears.
Behind the mask, a pair of concentrated eyes flicked to the side, catching sight of others aligned with their cause. Their previous taunting expressions transformed into looks of determination as they raised a finger towards the guards, tracing an intricate spell in the air. As the spell took shape, plumes of fire spiralled out from the centre of the circle, effectively halting the advance of the plague-masked guards.
The air was split by a piercing whistle, causing everyone to turn and see another of the masked companions motioning urgently as the beastly demon hurtled towards the ground with sinuous grace. As they looked ahead, they were stunned to see familiar figures a few yards away—the residents of the Owl House, deep in conversation and oblivious to the danger. Taking a deep breath, the person ran their hand along the sleek fur of the Stokala, suppressing a yelp as it vaulted over the residents, soaring briefly through the air. They saluted the residents as time seemed to slow, eliciting stunned looks in return before the beast accelerated and disappeared around the corner.
note. yes, I did use the yaelokre aesthetic/character design for some elements in my book; credit is provided and I will include the link to the one I used
The reason I wrote this book is my love for the series, along with a small idea of sharing my thoughts on other series through writing. While some may find it unusual, I genuinely enjoy taking the time to work on chapters and review my writing to ensure it flows smoothly.
Feel free to read this only if you are curious; negativity and hate comments will not be tolerated.
𝗅𝗎𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍
－
Xen really didn’t know what to do.
Though, that wasn’t a surprise to anyone.
So, to recap, she was hit by some weird comet-like thing, and it turned her into…well…this.
Green hair that apparently can catch on fire but not burn, neon green eyes that Sandy thinks might shoot lasers, and finally, she can fly.
“Sandy! Help me get down!” Xen wailed, acidic tears rolling down her face as she hit the ceiling.
“I’m—ugh,” Sandy groaned, avoiding a stray drop of acid-tear that melted straight threw the floor. “I’m trying! Just— calm down!”
More tears streamed down her face, and she felt half-bad for freaking Sandy out, but also, she was literally turning into a…thing!!
How could she not panic and cry?! Like, her tears are acidic now!
“It’s really not that bad! I saw a guy with like, chicken feet or something! At least you’re still you!” Sandy assured.
“It isn’t the same! My hair is on fire!”
Sandy groaned, looking toward the door where Nyxx was.
“Hey, you just gonna stand there and be useless? Come over here and help me!” The girl nagged, glaring at the other.
Nyxx only blinked, seeming a bit weary. “The extraction team will be here soon to help, so we should just try to keep her from blowing up.”
“Extrac— what?! What the hell is an extraction team?!”
“They’re really the only people able to help her right now, since she’s a bit of a liability right now.” Nyxx explained, ignoring Sandy’s spiraling.
Before she could say anything else, people in something close to hazmat suits came rushing in past.
Sandy didn’t even have time to comprehend before they were setting down some triangle thing, which unleashed a weird tech-y looking rope that dragged Xen down. Then, the rest of it turned into a cage, trapping her inside.
“What are you doing?!” Sandy screamed, pounding her fist on the cage. “Let her go!”
“Sandy, stop.” Nyxx demanded, coming up behind her and holding her back under the arms.
Sandy only kicked, nothing but fear and rage fueling her mind and actions.
“Get off me, bastard!”
Suddenly, a thick pink mist clouded the room, exploding from the hall. The anger she felt just seconds before disappears with the fog, leaving only a mild sense of disorientation in her senses.
A sigh, then, “Thanks, EVA.”
Sandy had not time to react before she was drug back to a chair to sit. She could barely stand, much less notice the team of weirdos take her friend out of the room.
Xen, meanwhile, was curled into a ball. Tears continued to run down her face, and she was lucky enough the be able to wipe them away. The people who were taking her away weren’t slow at all, as the moved with impressive speed.
All she could focus on, however, was just how ruined her life was. Her hair was on fire, her tears are burn through stuff, she can fly, and probably a shit ton of other things that will make everyone avoid her. And just when she was starting to get settled too…
She wanted to scream, and rage and throw a fit like a child. But she couldn’t.
Whatever had happened, it nearly killed her.
The idea of even going outside now, was terrifying.
On the outside, the team was making twists and turns, and Xen was pretty sure they went down an elevator at one point. That is, until they put her in a room. Minutes passed with the cage still glowing around her, but was finally removed.
The room she was in was almost stark white, with nothing but a small bed inside.
“Where am I?” Xen shivered, looking around wildly.
“Apologies, but this is the only way we can assure both your safety and ours for the time being.” A voice called out, coming from the ceiling.
Xen noticed a camera in the corner, and instinctually backed away.
“Please I— I don’t know what’s going on. You have to help me.”
The voice returned. “Of course, that’s what we’re here for. Just try to relax for now, we’ll be sending in Dr. Stein shortly to run some tests.”
Stein? Tests? What are they talking about?
“Wait! Who- who are you?”
“My name is Gideon, I’m EDEN’s most developed and effective AI.”
Okay. Great.
What does that mean?
Xen didn’t respond, and instead curled in on herself. If she was gonna be stuck in some room to get tested on, she might as well be comfortable.
—
Coming back to her senses, Sandy was instantly raged.
“What the FUCK?!” She shouted, shooting up and looking around crazily.
“Relax there, kid.” Mustang chided, blowing smoke out of the window.
Sandy turned to him, eye twitching. “Why the hell are you here? No, wait, actually, where is Xen? Tell me. Now.”
“Is that how you ask?”
Glaring, Sandy took a deep breath. “Please tell me where Xen is, fuckface.”
Mustang nearly choked, holding back a laugh. “Well, you certainly are spitfire, aren’t ya?” He chuckled.
“Now, bastard.”
“Ah, sorry kiddo, I can’t. That information is classified.”
Once again pissed off, Sandy stalked up to the older man, ripping the cigarette from his hand.
“I don’t fucking care if it’s classified, you ass, my best friend’s hair literally turned into fire. So you’re gonna tell me what the hell you guys are doing to her, and maybe, maybe, I won’t burn this whole fucking building down. Sound fair?”
Mustang stared, his eyes narrowed and slightly amused.
“Hm, guess I really don’t have a choice, huh?”
Not replying, Sandy met his stare equally, with Mustang recognizing the similar determination from his youth.
“Fine, fine, but I really can’t tell ya. Only agents and students get to know were Anomalies are put.”
“Anomalies?” Sandy raised a brow.
“Sorry, classified.” Mustang shrugged.
What the hell was this guy talking about? Anomalies? Like some alien shit? And only agents and students knew where…where the…
Widening her eyes, Sandy looked back to Mustang. “How do I become a student?”
“What?”
“A student. I need to be one here. That’s how I figure out what’s happening to Xen, right? So, what? Do I gotta, fill out an application? Take a test?” Sandy asked, rambling as many ideas popped into her head.
Mustang blinked, then while smirking, he ruffled the girl’s hair. “You’re sharper than you look, kid. Alright, ya wanna become a student.”
Ignoring the obvious lack of personal space, Sandy straightened. “Yes.”
“Then follow me. I’ve been looking for a knew lackey anyway.”
“What? You mean—”
“Yes, kid, I mean I’m gonna be teachin’ you. Now hurry up.”
Time felt like it was going too fast, and the nerves in Sandy’s body quickly stacked up. Inhaling, she grounded herself, then began to walk after the older man.
One thing at a time, Sandy, just roll with it.
—
New chapterrrrr!!!! Sort of, idk, just take it
@3xen
𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾
It wasn’t Red’s original plan, it wasn’t even his plan. Ada thought it was a good idea to undermine him by implementing her own plan, which, as you might’ve figured out, completely went to shit.
“Impressive plan, Ada.” Red commented, snark lacing his tone.
Ada groaned, thumping her head against the wall. “Shut up, Red!”
Meanwhile, bullets whizzed past them, and the men they were facing off against were shouting orders at each other. The duo had been backed into a corner, with nothing but a flimsy column shielding them from the onslaught of gunfire.
“What about now, Ada? Have another imbecilic plan yet?”
“Red! God! Shut up!” Ada shouted, glaring at him.
Was Ada technically his upperclassman? Yes. Was she also a lot older than him, being nineteen? Also yes.
Did that mean Red was going to treat her with respect?
Hell. No.
“Well, if you haven’t got any spectacular plans, shall I take the the lead?” Red grinned smugly.
Ada rolled her eyes, frustrated. “Fucking— whatever. Do your shit, Red.”
With a triumphant huff, Red scanned what he could of the warehouse. There were many foot soldiers, all aiming their weapons and firing pointlessly. Red felt a bit of offense, clearly, these people weren’t taking EDEN, or it’s members seriously.
Hm, then, he should remind them, just exactly why EDEN is at the top of the food chain.
Jumping quickly to the next column, Red drew their fire, leaving Ada behind. If he were to initialize his plan, he’d need a distraction. Turning on his earpiece, he connected his comm straight to HQ.
“EVA?” Red called.
“Thats me! What d’ya need, Reddy?” EVA responded, her voice cheerful.
“I need a little diversion, I don’t suppose you could cook something up?”
“Yes! One-hundred-percent! You can count on me, Redsters!”
With that, the call cut, and a few seconds later, something dropped from the ceiling. Red assumed it was some kind of security drone that delivered it, as that was EVA’s whole thing. It was a small disk, but managed to let out a mist so thick that even Red had a hard seeing through it.
However, EVA had done as asked, and he would not let it go to waste.
Running through the fog, Red strained his senses to hear anything around him, and see as far as he could. The fog shifted around bodies, and Red even smelled the particular odor of the soldiers. He would make quick work of this now, lest he miss watching Tales of Gothicka and Mephistopheles, with Nyxx and Moon.
One after another, the fifteen-year-old slashed through legs and stomach, occasionally throats. The smell of blood was slightly irritating, but he ignored as best he could. These foot soldiers really didn’t know what was coming, huh? Some distance away, he heard more struggling, easily figuring out it was Ada.
Perhaps she wasn’t completely useless, after all.
Slicing through the last man, Red quickly grabbed him by the throat.
“Tell me, sir, why are you attacking EDEN students? Were you paid? What about this warehouse? I heard you were smuggling illegal contraband into Acheron and Spade, but I must know why.” Red interrogated, his voice seemingly calm and docile.
The man was sweating bullets, which Red wasn’t surprised by. He had that effect on people, making them nervous.
Red didn’t know why, though.
“Hurry up now, if I remove this blade you’ll surely bleed out in minutes. And that’s being generous.” Red stated, twisting the knife in the others’ gut just a tiny bit.
The man yelped, gripping his hand onto Red’s forearm. “Stop! Agh, fuck!”
“If you want me to stop, then answer my questions.” A dark look washed over Red’s face, and his eyes went cold.
“I-I don’t know, really. They just—urgh” The soldier panted. “The people who employed us— just told us to get the cargo from here to the extraction—point. I didn’t know about no Even kids or whatever..”
Red stared, and to others, it was one of malice and inhumanity. His eyes were seemingly empty, as if any emotions he could’ve felt in the past or present, just evaporated. Ada despised that look.
The fog had cleared enough for her to spot Red, and exactly what he was doing.
Little brat, she thought.
She stalked over to them, glaring holes into Red’s back.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Ada shouted.
Red didn’t respond, and instead, just kept aiming that look at the man. Ada may not like these guys, but even she had a little kindness. Kicking him in the back, Ada was able to call Red to attention.
“Wake the fuck up, shorty. We’ve got a lead. Now stop torturing that guy.” Ada commanded.
She knew, however, that he words meant little to Red. As he would only take orders from Captain Silver. And occasionally Nyxx, though even he had a hard time with Red.
Red slowly turned his head, his expression devoid of any feeling. Ada felt herself shiver a bit, from just how cold he looked. She knew it was better to pretend not to be nervous, but she couldn’t help herself. That look…
Red snapped back to the present, once again letting his instincts take control. There was an internal groaning in his head, he’d definitely have a lecture later.
Standing up, and removing the blade from the man’s gut, ignoring his wailing, Red looked to Ada. “Apologies, I seem to have spaced out a bit. Now then, let’s get going, shall we?”
Not waiting for an answer, Red walked away, cleaning the blood from his knife with hand cloth. Ada, on the other hand, just rolled her eyes and called for backup. That man was still alive, and he would be as long as The Butterflies get here on time, so she could save the real interrogation for later.
Red, looking much more forward to weekly binge night, practically beamed. Though, his version of beaming was an uncaring face and lazy body language.
After about an hour, Red finally made it back to his apartment. It was quite spacious, being more of a loft than an apartment. Before he and Nyxx graduated from student to agents, they’d talked about moving away from the dorms. Although it was sometimes nice, being able to get away from the school was also very freeing.
So, with only a minor struggle, Red and Nyxx successfully moved into their own apartment. Currently, the boys were renting it out from this old couple, Maurice and Delaney, they were kind.
Walking through the front door, Red closed it behind him and slid off his shoes. He took off his blazer and threw it on the back of a chair, leaving only his tie and a white button-up, as well his plaid red and black pants. Hopping over the back of the couch, Red landed a few inches away from Nyxx, who was already comfortable in a tank-top and sweatpants.
“You’re just in time, Moon was already starting to complain about you being gone.” Nyxx remarked, shoving a fist full of popcorn in his mouth.
“Oh dear, how would I recover.” Red replied flatly, though Nyxx recognized his tone as humorous.
Huffing a laugh, Nyxx grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. Moon, quickly, flew down from his perch, transforming from a bat to a human in seconds.
“Which episode?” He asked quietly, sitting in between the two older boys.
“Episode thirteen, I’m pretty sure. That’s where we left off last week, right?” Nyxx looked to Red for confirmation.
“Correct, we ended on a cliffhanger between Gothicka and Princess Angelicka fighting over Unicorn Joe.”
Moon nodded, while Nyxx hummed in response. He clicked on the episode, and Red felt himself instantly relax.
Though to others, he might always seem on edge, but within the walls of his apartment, sitting with two of the most important people to him, Red couldn’t be calmer.
—
So, not exactly an update-update, but I’m trying to figure out Red’s character so just enjoy regardless❤️❤️
Also, he is indeed of sassy lil bitch with no empathy skills, that much I’ve figured out
Satosugu has 4,000 fanfics on ao3
Nobamaki has 500
I will rectify this transgression
I'm going to write a book and make it really good and the story amazing and everyone will love it and then I'll write the sequel where everything will be gay and I'll piss off all the straights and I will grow powerful
My little sister started reading my story with a creepy villain and she came over to me to talk about the story and went:
"I don't know how long it takes for a body to decompose, bUt-"
Character: And by the way...you look ravishing.
Me: Stay the fuck away from her you creepy ass bitch.
Me:
Me: Oh, I wrote that.
Is there anyone else that when they get hit with inspiration act dramatically for no reason?
Like I recently got a story idea, and when I did I was looking up as the thought was formulating and then when it finished, I slammed my head forward really hard. Knocking my headphones to the floor, and then giving myself a mild headache from how hard I slammed it forward.
Helpppp
So I just finished the NaNoWriMo story I was doing for school yesterday, and then last night I thought of another fucking story.
Long story short, I've come up with the plot, 11 characters, their names, and their pasts, and I created a playlist for my MC.
Me: Alright, time to write.
My brother: Hey, want to play a board game?
Me: Oh, I can't, I'm writing.
My brother: C'mon
Me : Well, iF yOu iNsIsT
This just happened
Me letting my friend read the prologue to my story: "So, what do you think?"
My friend: "Uh...I like... the words..."
Me:
My friend: *Blushing because she knows how dumb she sounds*
Me when I create an independent Fl that thinks she needs to do everything herself then create a ML that helps her break out of her shell and then I kill him off while she sobs and says "Please...I need you..." while he dies in her arms:
People know I write, but they don't know I write Fanfiction. So, they keep asking me questions like: "How many pages are you in? What's the name? How many do you have?
I can't answer them without giving away I write Fanfiction...
I posted it on Ao3 yesterday for Snipe's birthdayyyy
Okay so maybe I did start a new writing while still having multiple WIP and a two-part thing for tomorrow (Hint: Who's birthday is it in Mha tomorrow?) and not having the second one done because I can't get into it. BUT it is angsty annnddd with one of my favorite characters with one of my favorite trios >:) (Hint: what is one of the angsty trios in Mha?)
Oh right
WOWIIEEE CHAPTER 5!!!
it has the playlist in this one :)
WOWZERRRR
~~PROPERTY OF RAY SMITH~~
Memories are the foundation of what we base our perception of reality and even our own selves off of, and those memories ultimately make up who we are and how we interact with our external world. Recently, I feel that I've been forgetting many of mine. You always expect that when you forget something like a major memory, you can feel that something is missing. I've learned that often times you don't even notice you're forgetting something until something comes up to suggest that you should know what it is, but you simply don't.
Like waking up in a bedroom you don't recognise after a night out of drinking. You can remember going out to the bar with your friends, you can remember talking and laughing, and you remember this person you didn't know coming and talking to you. You know you keep drinking with them, but you don't actually remember much past that point. You can assume you slept with whoever you were talking to before your memory runs a blank, but you don't know for certain.
Next comes what I tend to think of as the most terrifying part of the process.
Later in the day you talk to the friends you went out with again, and they fill in some blanks for you. You now know you actually went to a hotel with someone else who wore an outfit absolutely blindingly neon orange, definitely not the person you remember talking to. You look through your phone, checking your camera roll and texts. You see a couple videos of yourself very drunkenly dancing with your friends and someone wearing neon orange, but there's always too much movement and poor lighting for you to recognize a their face. You also see some texts from an unknown number talking about how wild last night was, and how they are they ran into you. Based on all the information you collected, you assume this unknown number is the person who was wearing neon orange, the two of went back to the hotel and slept together, and they left before you woke up.
When you retell this story in the future you say that you were talking to this really cool person who you got bored of after 10 minutes before your friends, being the saviors they are, dragged you away from them and you all started dancing. It didn't take long after that for this really attractive person with admittedly bad clothing taste started dancing with you. One thing lead to another and you ended up sleeping with them in the hotel, giving them your number before they left.
The actual events of that night looked more like this: The person you remember talking to got wine spilt on them and left the bar in a huff. Shortly after your friends dragged you up and you all started dancing. Next, you see your brothers ex in the bar, and drag them up to start dancing too (you had always liked this ex). The two of you leave the bar together and stumble drunkenly through downtown as you talk about your brother. By pure bad luck your brother spots the two of you while driving, pulls over, astounded to see the two of you together. His ex says they have a hotel room booked, and your brother agrees to give his ex a ride there, and offer's you his couch to sleep on. By the time you get to the hotel your brother and the ex don't seem to be very broken up anymore. The ex gives you the room key, and you stay in their hotel room while your brother and the ex meant to go back to your brother's place first, but don't quite make it that far. The text you receive the next morning from an unknown number is your brother, who's number you never saved out of spite.
The human ability to completely forget memories without a trace and rewrite memories scares me more than death; more than life.
I am no author, but I need to get this written down. I don't want to forget who I am.
⭐️✨Hello!✨⭐️
Welcome to my blog! You can call me Star ⭐️
(Was previously TheSkywalkerLegacy)
My pronouns are she/they <3
I will post about whatever my autism is hyperfixating on, which is currently Cole from Ninjago and Four from Linked Universe :3
I am mainly in the Ninjago and LoZ fandoms <3
Other fandoms I will interact with include Mouthwashing, Genshin, and life series/hermitcraft/empires SMP content!
I am a very proud lesbian and I support the LGBTQIA+ community! This is a safe space <3
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Hatred is thick, a red fog that clouds judgement, and hot, burning in one’s veins. Hatred is fire, burning and passionate, easily able to swallow you whole if you don’t set it aside. Hatred spreads like wildfire, rousing and loud, the clap of thunder.
Where the cinders and embers that light the fire are impatient and desperate, grabbing at whatever they may find to remain alive, hatred is patient. Hatred is a seed pod, hiding in a stagnant bog, content with discontent and relishing in it, waiting to flower and spread its venom. Hatred is a destructive thing, poisoning the one who harbors it just as it poisons the others surrounding its host.
Yet it is disgustingly sweet, to the point where it is delicious. Hatred, while clouding the mind, gives focus. It sends you on a hunt, after the object that created it. The festering bud, once awakened, sends you on the path of ruin.
Hatred is something demons love to toy with. After all, men are more likely to destroy the things they hate themselves. They won’t find excuses or search for sacrificial lambs, instead opting to take matters into their own hands.
I am far from a demon. The enduring powers in my family, fighting defiantly against the weathering of time, have taken root in me. I have very little in the way of demonic gifts, but I can light a spark. I can smell the budding seeds of hatred in one’s heart, feel the feeble heat on the palms of my hands, and I can stoke the fire.
Small hatred goes a long way.
Deep Water Prompt #3148
The farther back your demonic ancestor lived, the less of their power you had access to. I could do little more than smell hatred, thick, cloying, delicious, which was handy in its own way.