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aliasThe Moustachioed Greek
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D-d-digimon!
Andrea did not fancy herself enough of a special snowflake to think that she was above accountability. Even so, having one's own faults brought to light was never a pleasant experience. If it was, then a lot more people would be going to therapy willingly.

"It would make me the bad guy." She replied after much hesitation. "But... I did what I thought was right... at least at the time." She added with a discomforted wince, realizing that those words did not belong to her; they belonged to horrible people who justified their awful deeds by claiming to have a noble goal.
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
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i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.


What is the price of revolution?

A mother lost in the fight to salvage a future for a generation beyond her reach; detention cards for acting out in an attempt to right injustice with a violent swing; a thundering cry of rebellion in rock-n-roll succession, dashed as soon as it could even come; the technicolor banners of a manifesto the great majority scorn in the interest of self-capital and comfortability; to give your heart and then some more to the abstract dream of freedom and liberty and the American dream on its tombstone until there's nothing left to give—

To enter the heart of the enemy in bold confidence they won't shoot first.

not from my last post, but part of my last batch of them last night and i think abt this passage a lot



coming soon.
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
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i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
doubleposting but since its been awhile im p sure its chill and, like, i’m pretty sure this is the most romantic thing i’ve ever written or will ever write.

"Garnier, I've never felt forced to pick a damn choice with you in my life."

Somewhere in the distance, the lanterns continue to drift to their highest peak.



coming soon.
the chalk prince
aliasyuan
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existential execution is just a fluke in evolution.

Thian leans into the kiss, it's something Val's wanted for the past few months, ever since their first, but upon thinking about it —

Val pulls away from Thian, eyes wide. His expression is panicked. "Wait— hold on— I forgot how...!" he says, and it's very evident by the look on his face that he's very serious about forgetting how to kiss someone.

Smooth, Garnier.

Very smooth.


aliashannyfish
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「我等の天下だ 神など要らない。」
"but i would never readily sacrifice our people to a war when the cause of it was something of our own making. i don't think i'm a coward for thinking of what is the blood running through the veins of this kingdom first."


from a rapidfire ver of what turned out to be a fairly pivotal thread after all. ty for everyone who made me feel validated for it i'm so proud of my bby boy. nine years of existing and he grew a spine.
last edit on Dec 28, 2022 7:59:29 GMT by hanny
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She waited for the lie to reveal itself. For his hands to stray further, for his lips to lower to hers, for his eyes to betray desires he had insisted he no longer held for her.

She watched him and waited for this, but the world simply paused and stood still, refusing to meet her expectations.
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
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i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
For now, though, the new daimyo of Shimoyama stands at the edge of the shrines as the rest of the province gives their closure, her heart heavy in her chest and her sorrow an empty song within her ribcage, and waits in the background until her work begins.

She will mourn her family when it is no longer a spectacle and the world is no longer watching.


for a post written in a van in a parking lot and while 60% blacked out i actually rlly like this one



coming soon.
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Do forgive me I've seen the treasure's in the bloom but right now I'm just not strong enough for you
Nothing but the words she continued to gnaw upon until blood dominated her palate existed presently. As if the strings of fate urged her forward, Tanith surged forward - a curious mixture of contrasting worlds, and halted closely to the Ivory Guard, sensation of peril steadily blossoming. The taunt directed itself at one individual solely: the progeny of the forsaken Meager King.
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Why do we sleep where we want to hide?

She leaves unspoken the words of worry that if he scorned her she was unsure of how she would react – the whispers of madness spoke different each day. Some days they soothed and calmed, others they riled. Today she sat on the precipice of the unknown, and they quivered with anticipation.

rickroll requested
aliasRinse, Oakey
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SIGMAR BLESS THIS RAVAGED BODY!
Alcohol wasn't his first choice when it came to beating that sharp wistfulness from his mind, but it was a close second. The first was violence — picking fights with people much larger and stronger than him. Asking and goading for more until he could hardly think past the adrenaline lashing through his veins and the pain seeped deep into his muscles and bones. Bruises, split lips, stab wounds, and fractures — all those familiar, physical hurts — were far preferable to the sick, ugly gnawing that could coil within. Those aches ate at him from the inside out, unable to be pointed to and patched up. Couldn't be laughed about and prodded at. Every time he got beaten to a bloody pulp, those wounds — no matter how ugly or severe — eventually healed. Would become just another scar. They were nothing. But those other, nameless pinpricks of ache never seemed to mend. Could only be chased away and distracted from. Shoved aside and forcibly forgotten about until something inevitably tore them back open; made them raw and angry again.

an original powers rp
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scarlet
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A photograph of her had graced the Kalosian newspapers after her husband's death, veiled in black lace so as to shroud her dry eyes from view. Long, loose golden curls had fallen down her back, careless and lacking artful presentation, as she'd descended the steps of a church neither of them had ever frequented. Sinners knew better.

Elisabeth stood now as a pale imitation of that infamous portrait, this time her face exposed to reveal an enigmatic expression that concealed her true intent as well as any lace. A hardness manifested itself in her, as if her features were sculpted of alabaster stone.
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Do forgive me I've seen the treasure's in the bloom but right now I'm just not strong enough for you
the twilight marketplace is a place of solace for xylina, has been for years (it feels like her life restarts after the death of her mother, needs to learn to live again). she cannot count the times she's moved through the sea of souls, a specter floating over the teeming waves without any resistance since she's intangible. since the funeral, the witch has grown more palpable — a possibility she did not expect to manifest. over time the joy in everyday acts and the seemingly mundane restore her sense of self. there are even occasions where the melancholy ebbs away and for a mere moment former peace blossoms in her bosom.