They say the abused become the abuser. And you have gone through hell.
But what is standing in front of me is this beautiful, fragile woman that holds broken things so gently as she has never been held, who melts her energy into making them intact. Until there is no power, no more love left to give.
I keep waiting.
I keep waiting for a dog so hideous to pass by on our evening walks that you will not pet. I keep waiting for a sunset too plain that you feel it too futile to paint. I look around for a child far too overbearing for you to comfort— But whenever I inquire you, all I hear is that you've been all of those things, and you won't let it happen to anyone else. Too hideous—too plain—Too overbearing—
You love fixing broken things. You attract evil because it latches on to sweetness, sucks it until evil becomes a lovable thing and the source becomes sour and stale.
I believe, sometimes, that is why I am your lover.
But I am no different from when you first met me. You may not have noticed this, but even though you hold me, pour yourself into me, you never attempt to glue me together. You never attempt to fix me. You just bleed into my vacant parts, unafraid of the surrounding filth.
Who did I murder that was so bad, what days did I feed my hungry cat so well that I am held dear to a person like you?
My sweet, sweet Caroline. How could I ever repay your love?
-exerpt from my upcoming villian×hero book🤭💋
"You can't be a lurker on tumblr." Yes, you absolutely can. I've been quietly reblogging things since 2014 and I haven't interacted with anyone in years.
Despite it all I will live. Life wants to fuck me over? I will live fucking despite it. Pushes me around beyond my breaking point and further? I will live despite it.
Even though something is clawing at my insides, even though I realize how intolerable my pain is when I sit down and let everything sink in, even though the cookies I tried to bake tasted like frozen butter, even though dad hurt me again and mom didn't quite understand again,
I'm going to go on despite.
Why?
Because one thing bigger than my self-pity is my ego. And I am playing the most egotistical game with life.
And I will win. (Also my cat is rlly cute she makes me want to live)
I hate how pretty I look when I cry.
More so, I hate how I love how wonderful my red nose , red cheeks, and slight swollen eyes make me look. All that makeup and I would never achieve this.
It's like my face is mocking me, you bloom here in sadness as you belong here in sadness.
"Yes, I'm a murderer. Be it for Good or Evil, I play culprit of several last breaths- Nothing can justify that- Yet somehow... I crave warmth."
"I blame the cold that rests within my core, for it makes me tremble and yearn for even a speck of fire. Perhaps it's why at the end of the day, I always find myself melted in your embrace. For I am a parasite. A parasite that leeches off your love," his eyes meet hers, "Stay away from me if you feel dire need of affection. Cryogenic knights have no love to offer." His tone is more direct this time, a vain attempt to seem intimidating. "Besides, Heat only melts ice."
Context: he's made of ice but she's made of Fire lmao, I love yin n yang tropes
Tumblr has so much potential 😬 it's kind of sad
“Do not lose hope. Please believe there are a thousand beautiful things waiting for you.”
— Unknown
I love myself- I love myself so much. But it gets lonely when it just me, just me who loves me.
If this pain chooses not to leave me
I hope I end my life
I hope I don't force myself to live through it all with the false hope that I will find peace and love and dreams coming true
I hope I can give myself the privilege of death and not force myself to live for others
Oh my goddd im in my teenage depression phase 😦
"Will you just tell me what your fucking problem is? You're acting crazy, you know that, but you think you can still pretend everything is fine? Spit it out!"
"I'm— I'm being haunted."
I've said the forbidden thing. And I'm waiting for the ceiling to fall on top of us or for the ground to swallow me whole, but all i see and feel is the horror on their faces. Why isn't Celia, the Celia whom I murdered not doing a single thing? It is only when i lift my head to see their horrified faces once again that I understand.
I understand to such a degree that I break into maniacal laughter as the world spins around me. Both me and the woman haunting me— we share a common goal now.
I want to We want to torture the people who made me murder her. "Maybe Celia's not haunting me. Maybe I'm posessed by her. For I've never understood a person this much before!"
"You watch your mouth, new prince. Before I—"
"Before you strip me off the 'chosen hero' title? Well to hell with your fucking special play, your uniqueness. Curse you and that royal blood— After all, what kind of chosen hero, What kind of God' s favourite hold's a knife to a young woman's innocent throat? All in the name of 'erasing cursed heritage?' In the name of the cause, you ruined me! You all have forgotten yourselves! Even declared yourself king, at the expense of making me a murderer. At the expense of the love of my life— no, the life of my love!" Celia uses her powers now. No, her presence is stronger. She uses it to shut me up, ofcourse. Frightening, how love is enough to shake the souls of the dead, aswell.
After all, I only confessed my love for her once she was incapable of loving me back.
"Lock him up. Cut him until he swears by the blood."
I pray she will use her powers to intervene, and save me from the torture. I hear no objection as I'm dragged away. What a creative manner to reject me, my celia. I will admire you from hell
"Will you just tell me what your fucking problem is? You're acting crazy, you know that, but you think you can still pretend everything is fine? Spit it out!"
"I'm— I'm being haunted."