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Excerpts From A Novel

sdkvnklweanl;
aliastanzaku, tanz, tan-tan, egao, protag, chapel, tbotc
pronounsshe/her
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co-dependency bros?
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maybe wallace being my fav was foreshadowing
“I defended his existence, but accepted his death, that’s all.”

- the promise (snap studio)


【 POKEMON EVOLUTION: TERRORS 】
(latest update: 8/28 wall of update)
aliasmori, manon, saki
pronounsshe / her
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i know you see yourself as a fighter. well, i see myself as one, too.
But Sally doesn't care if Gillian phoned Gary last week and asked what on earth he was waiting for. It doesn't matter if he's had the aunts' address folded into his coat pocket ever since that phone call. By the time she runs down the bluestone path, it doesn't make a bit of difference what people think or what they believe. There are some things, after all, that Sally Owens knows for certain: Always throw spilled salt over your shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can.


Practical Magic, Alice Hoffman
Rodent King
aliasditz
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Mouseearned bits
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Mouse
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where fears and lies melt away.
Those tears, too—a symptom of the rot. There were other words for it, of course. The children, in their ignorance or innocence, called the affliction age, but in this, as in so much else, they erred. Age was not decrepitude. Tan’is himself was old, hundreds of years old, and yet his sinews remained strong, his mind nimble—if needed, he could run all day, all night, and the better part of the next day.


No; time passed, stars swung through their silent arcs, seasons gave way one to the next, and yet none of these, in and of itself, brought harm. It was not age but rot that gnawed at the children, consuming their bowels and brains, sapping strength, eroding what meager intelligence they once possessed. Rot, and then death.


- The Emperor's Blade by Brian Staveley
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henry
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Don’t talk to me
“He’s awoken by the crash of broken crockery hurled into the forests. Bottles whirling, full and empty, detonating all around. Hands that smell of a heavy night. Now what, he says from his bed. Now what. The woman who gave birth to me and never lets me rest. The woman who made me has lost it completely and come to corner me from her night.”


Tender, by Ariana Harwicz.


I really didn’t like this book when I read it two years ago, but I still think about it a lot? So I’ll give it some credit. I don’t think this writer has ever written anything about motherhood that wasn’t deeply twisted. Reading her work is like watching an arthouse horror movie in both the best and the worst ways possible.
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As at least cruelty was a thing that could be pointed out, confronted. But this belief, this absolute conviction that this evil they were doing was good, was God’s work — how, she wondered, how could such a dark conviction ever be overcome?


"Can a god be both slayer and shepherd? Reward and vex? Does your god only do good?"


-Slewfoot: A Tale of Bewitchery by Brom.
pronounsshe/her
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"...you'd run across a girl kind of like her every now and then. Breathtakingly beautiful, very popular with the clients, nothing but the top class of patrons, but basically unfathomable. They'd have an almost unnatural sort of beauty, the sort of beauty that made you wonder if it hadn't been nourished by all the misery and misfortune in the world."


Yamasaki Asami's face and body, on the other hand, evoked a kind of perilous fragility that made you feel as if things were on the verge of collapse, as if the center couldn't hold and the axis had already begun to tilt. When he was around her, he was in a constant state of mild anxiety. His heartbeat would speed up, and he was never truly at ease.


"Do you understand? You've got to love only me."

I know.

"Everyone says that, but they don't really mean it. You're different from everyone else, though, aren't you? Only me. I'll give you everything, but I've got to be the only one you love. Do you understand?"


-Audition by Ryu Murakami.
pronounsshe/her
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scarlet
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I have never understood, and still do not understand the notion that a woman must first endure a victimhood of some sort—abandonment, abuse, oppression of the patriarchy—to be monstrous. Men have always been permitted in fiction and in life to simply be what they are, no matter how dark or terrifying that might be. But with a woman, we expect an answer, a reason. But why would she do it? Why, why, why?


He howls questions to me: Who are you? Why are you doing this? I didn’t do anything to anyone. I don’t deserve this. Why me? This is a failing of men. This same violence, applied to a woman, she does not ask why it is being inflicted upon her, she only struggles unsuccessfully to free herself and grieves the fact she has grieved her entire life, one that she understands fundamentally and innately. That violence simply occurs.


-Maeve Fly by CJ Leede.
rickroll requested
aliasRinse, Oakey
pronounsShe/Her
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SIGMAR BLESS THIS RAVAGED BODY!
"Oh, it's you." My voice barely shook. I could not bear to look at him and went back to sit on the bed where the light was dimmer. Actors on a stage, playing out this premeditated performance. He knew his part well. I did not even know my lines. Anger made me itch. I wanted to look up at him with welcome in my eyes, but shyness and embarrassment had frozen all sensation. Encased in ice it glowed there inside me.
The Enchantments of Flesh and Spirit, Storm Constantine

an original powers rp
Rodent King
aliasditz
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Spoilers for Wind and Truth I just love the contrast here.


It was magnetic, taking not only her breath and attention, but her soul and mind, which longed to just once create something so beautiful. It was the pinnacle of all artistry. This was the height to which creations could rise. This was what you could… could…

Do you need me to take control? Radiant asked.

Please! Shallan said, tears in her eyes.

Radiant took a deep breath, acknowledged the pretty tower, and moved on.
- Wind and Truth by Brandon Sanderson

last edit on Nov 21, 2024 18:37:58 GMT by Mouse
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