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Tidal Wave
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I've got a hurricane in my head, I can't feel a thing, but it's better than dead
welp... other people double post so why can't I?

So by month three, he had let it go. He still went to her place, still kept everything tidy, but the panic was mostly gone. He just went through the motions of the day. He tried not to think about it. He tried to think that one day she would just come back to him.

And then she did.

Sixteen almost fucking killed her.

Rodent King
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All the darkness from that minute of eternity spent beyond the veil crept out from his heart. Crushing, suffocating. Any emotion he had left in him was drained and replaced. The cold, colorless world of apathy had become a familiar place.

The sketchbook in his hands crumpled into a funnel of wrinkled papers. Deep inside this gloom, a single person entered his thoughts.

Suzume.

A heavy sigh gave way to a sliver of emotion.

Where was she when he needed her? Why had he left her behind....
Tidal Wave
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I've got a hurricane in my head, I can't feel a thing, but it's better than dead
He gave her a playfully shocked face when she mentioned him starting shit with the groom. "Uh! Me? I would never!" But of course he would.

Rodent King
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I killed off my first character today

Brillant, brimming - there's a light at the end of all these memories. Aoi's expecting hell, or wherever people like her go when they die. Instead, she finds heaven in the face of a daughter she hadn't seen in ages. Still young, still beaming, and not blaming her for a thing.

Aoi's last act before death takes her....

Is a smile.
Feline Overlord
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Chibi Magician
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Pure Gremlin Energy
Born when hoarfrost clung to hanging branches at the height of his parents’ success, the first breaths of life suggested a fanciful world for young Jackson Hoar. Brought into the world by Kristen Hoar and conceived with the assistance of Benjamin Hoar, the child’s life was promising. Both parents were prominent in the world of business with the holding of a successful company capable of reigning in funds beyond one’s imagination. Always, the pair craved the opportunity to raise a child, an individual to grow, learn and carry on the powerful legacy of the Hoar Family. The jaded eyes of his mother portrayed weary happiness and the soft sparkle evident in the darkened hues of his father proved everything well. The opportunity finally arrived to raise their dearest child, to lift him up beyond the realm of stars and assist with the carving of a magnificent future. Unfortunately, the notion of a happy family unit would be as short-lived as the morning frost on a sunny winter’s day.
- Jackson Hoar's Application (WIP)
last edit on Jun 17, 2021 23:12:27 GMT by Chibi Magician
ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
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pronouns"that bitch" still works tbh (any OK!)
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a verb in perfect view.
hit fin on a thread today and have been emo ever since so have a few random snippits i liked prose-wise
Evil exists firmly in the form of a funeral.
They’ve never learned how to be personal, barely ever learned to be a person, children forged into something sharp and deadly born into a war whose incitement they never quite had a say in—
It really is fucking fairytale, isn’t it?
It’s a shame this version’s plot skews Grimm.
last edit on Jun 18, 2021 22:15:09 GMT by selkie
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Rodent King
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"Hold that pose." Xander instructs, sitting down on the ground with his legs crossed. The moment his pencil hits the paper, the world fills with static. He's lost in a sea of white noise with the beautiful brunette acting as his guide.

It's a slow process that requires Xander's full attention. He takes in every detail on her face. Every imperfection that he sees as flawless - it's all captured inside his pencil and released onto paper. Meloetta herself graces Xander with inspiration, transforming Sumi into a muse that tears him away from an artistic slump.
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So, too, is Death possessed of infinite strategies and a gaunt nature.

Dangerous, this ritual. What she invokes from the rage of flames may not be entirely within her control. Worse still, it could erupt forth and drag her elsewhere. But she's prepared for that. A part of her might even enjoy the trip. Perhaps the Underworld could be more home than this modern day Thebes.

trying 2 get back 2 writing after doing nothing for 3 weeks ajkdhfka
might scrap who knows

last edit on Jun 22, 2021 6:18:03 GMT by PHIMBO
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still lactose intolerant
He breathed out again, running gloved hands through his silver hair. While he had slept, he still felt tired. That burdening blanket of weariness dared not to leave him be. Perhaps it was sadder to say he was growing too used to it. He saw small waves travel across the water as he looked up, picked up by a rather strong gust of summer wind. Crimson eyes reflected dark red in the lake's clear surface. And if he looked at his reflection, he could see another figure there. A ghost.

The skirt of her white-spotted sundress fell to her knees, the fabric catching in a nonexistent wind. Silver curls, the same color as his own hair, laid gently on her bare shoulders. Dainty hands were held in front of her, fingers curling in a small pose akin to prayer. Sapphire eyes looked nowhere. Her reflection was clear in the lake, but no one stood beside him.

“What do you want to do?”


She said to him.

He still didn’t have an answer for her.

She faded away with the waves.

Tidal Wave
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I've got a hurricane in my head, I can't feel a thing, but it's better than dead
Luka's.. Enemy...? The thought of his name being compared to that piece of shit made him gag. Visibly. "Forget about saving the world kid. I don't need you." It was true enough. What could this kid possibly offer him that would help his cause. At least he had found some thing.... He guessed. "What can you do to help save the world? Stay the hell out of my way for one." That was really it. Kyou didn't need a damn thing the boy had to offer. He didn't need money, and he really didn't care about status. He didn't need rich or powerful allies. Literally everything the person across from him had to offer, he refused. He didn't need any of it.

the narrative
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i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
if i had a nickel for every time i went emo over writing a redheaded soldier who wants to matter so damn much struggling to admit their most personal insecurities to someone, particularly when those uncertainties are somewhat triggered by their own love for a dark haired witch who wears a ponytail, i'd have two nickels. which is not a lot, but it's kind of weird that it's happened twice.

So she lifts the cigarette to her lips and drags it, and she wonders if tobacco does much against a vampire's heart. ( Cheesy, she knows, but it's a more reasonable conclusion to make for the pang. )

"I don't know," is her quiet response. She doesn't know if it's a lie to him or to herself, or if it's a shred of honesty from the armor. Cecilia wants to say that it's easy—you keep moving, and she has an eternity he does not, so it is only expected—but then she remembers the night of his attack. And how prepared she had been to storm heaven and hell itself.

It is easy to say you can stomach losing a person. It is harder to live with the thought.

"Maybe be angry," is her eventual follow up. She blows the smoke away, letting the musing simmer. "At them. At whoever pulls the trigger. At myself." For allowing it to pass. For making it pass. For letting it affect. It's a warring conflict and Cecilia can't quite tell who stands on the winning edge.


edit: some other lines from my last few two posts in this thread bc i like them, dont perceive me

Maybe that kind of thing doesn't start with a choice. Maybe it just blooms, and you go from there.

This is one thing few understand about love: it is the uninvited guest who crashes in once, and whom they decide to let in every visit after. No matter if they'd broken the window the first time.
She burns in her anger until she's forgotten what it's like to exist without it.

It's selfish and it's stupid and it's illogical, at its very heart. And here she is, wondering why it's so damn hard to believe in someone who actually stays.
last edit on Jun 26, 2021 13:19:02 GMT by CEL



coming soon.
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still lactose intolerant
Perhaps he wanted that change of pace, searching for that excuse to try it out. Perhaps he was there to make up for some mistake that he couldn’t name because he’d made too many. He felt nothing. He felt pained. He felt as if his own skin barely fit his body. He hadn’t eaten that day, convincing himself he wasn’t hungry. He hadn’t slept last night. Nightmares had plagued his vision whenever he closed his eyes. He put a gloved hand to his forehead, bringing down the rim of his hat, so it covered his tired eyes.
Tidal Wave
aliasAkira, Tsunami, Tsu, Aki
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I've got a hurricane in my head, I can't feel a thing, but it's better than dead
I'm not sure if it's allowed but this whole thing is amazing. so... it's my intial post, the reply from my friend, and then my response again. please enjoy this monstrosity lol
An Edit: I have the author's permission for that middle piece so thanks for that <3

He just hoped that it wouldn't be so much that he wound up losing Rei over it. "The only thing I won't do, is give you up... So if it comes between Kyou's safety and having you... I will choose you." It would just be a really hard decision to make.


He didn’t like it, necessarily, but he understood. If they didn’t fight, there was no meaning. Right after, however, a particular phrase escaped from Kaelis, and a giggle escaped from Rei. “Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and hurt me? Ehehe…” Good lord that was such an old song, but it very much made Rei smile right then.


Sixteen's expression just... flattened. Oh he knew it too. It wasn't like he hadn't known. "Rei..." His future husband. The walking fucking meme generator. The project just shook his head. "I was trying to have a moment here..." He sighed and started walking. What a loser. Being Rick Rolled by his own fiance... What the hell was his life coming to?
last edit on Jun 27, 2021 0:04:08 GMT by AkiraTsunami

the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
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i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
don't mind ya girl, emo over a thread on main as she still tries to remember how to write for literally everything else she owes

So she focuses now on something else: on ideas and allowances, on being wanted and being loved, on having quiet mornings and simply... living. Maybe not together, and maybe not in the same timeframe, but alongside still. It's not always waking up beside, but its knowing there's space in the bed. Separate orbits, but always with the same intersection, returning point.

A romantic might say: ever in sync, even miles or oceans away. She can't help but wonder if that actually lands true. If that's something she can allow, or want, or even consider.

An immortal loving someone touched by time, in all their complexity and uncertainty, is always tinged with bittersweet.


last edit on Jun 28, 2021 4:21:39 GMT by CEL



coming soon.