inkbloodpages

[inkbloodpages]

I’m plagued by poetic thoughts, feelings, and experiences, but I’m a terrible poet.

[inkbloodpages]

I call myself a guy

If I got married I’d rather be a husband than a wife

But if you call me a man, I’m gonna stab you in the eye

I like my hair long, I like a clean shaven face

I had no qualms flirting with a lesbian (her name was Grace)

My boobs are as big as my face

But I’m still not a woman, make no mistake

I guess I’m something in between

A little bit he and little bit she

Whatever I am, I’m unequivocally me

#pride month #genderfluid #nonbinary #genderqueer #gender #aaa #poetryblr #my shitty poetry #writeblr #poemblr #shitty poem

[inkbloodpages]

Hear me out:

Bluegrass siren who lives in lakes and rivers and lures redneck fisherman to watery graves. He does occasionally get caught by fly fishermen, but he could outfish anyone.

#writing prompt #shitty cryptid #siren #my bad ideas #bad idea #fantasy #fantasy ideas #hear me out #let him coo

[inkbloodpages]

Whoops, my hand slipped…

“It’s been three days, Gaius. Three days! I’m not just going to keep sitting idly by while my- while the crown prince of Camelot dies in his sleep! I am supposed to be the greatest sorcerer to ever live, I know I can fix him Gaius. I don’t care about the consequences, I am not losing him.”

“I understand your feelings, Merlin, but you mustn’t let them cloud your judgement. What will the townsfolk think when all their loved ones have died of some mysterious plague, while their prince makes a recovery? They’ll suspect magic, or some cure hidden away for only the nobility.”

“I don’t care.”

Merlin walks away, slamming the door behind him and barely resisting the urge to lock Gaius inside his room. He rushes to Arthur, half-collapsing onto his bed. His legs have grown week from reading instead of sleeping, but it doesn’t matter because he doesn’t want to spend his time anywhere but here.

“I will find a way to heal you, Arthur. I don’t care what it does to me or the kingdom, all I know is that my purpose is saving you. And I will fulfill that purpose. Until it kills me.” Merlin takes a deep breath, bracing himself on his knees, and places his hands on Arthur’s chest. He doesn't bother with incantations, he has no idea what he’d say. Instead, he feels. Feels love and anger and sadness, everything that means Arthur. He sees the first time they met, he sees every adventure they’s been on, he sees him alive and vibrant and full of life. And he pushes it all into Arthur’s chest.

Then he immediately collapses om top of him, arms prickly and numb like he’d been in the cold too long. His brain is a fog, and he’s only moderately aware of the words tumbling out of his mouth. “Please, Arthur. I need you, Arthur. You are my life, Arthur. Please. Please. Come back, come back to me Arthur.”

It feels like years before the man beneath him stirs. His eyes fly open, and Merlin regains all control of his body at once, leaping up to join Arthur on the little bed, hugging him. A wayward tear falls from his eye when Arthur hugs him back, weak arms holding him as tightly as they can. He looks up to say something, but all words are knocked out of him by Arthur’s intense stare. Before Merlin even thinks to be scared, Arthur is pulling him into a kiss. Merlin feels like fireworks are going off, and he’s sure he distantly heard something explode. But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is him and Arthur and how right their lips feel together.

When one of them finally pulls away, Arthur’s smile wavers. “You, uh, you have magic?”

Merlin feels as though a needle pierced his heart. He sits up, “Yes. But I use it for you. Only ever for you, Arthur. Everything I do is for the safety of you. And sometimes Camelot, but you are always my priority. And I have never hesitated to kill anyone who uses magic for darker means, I-”

He is cut off by Arthur’s hand over his mouth. “We can talk about this later. I- I understand why you didn't tell me. For now, just get back down here so I can kiss you again.”

*just think about the most general scenario - not what you write or draw or read more about. just what pops into your head. general idea.

#it feels weird to write fanfic on my phone- #this got away from me #long post #merthur #merlin bbc #merlin

[inkbloodpages]

Oh my god how dare you make me want to write a fic when I’m already in the middle of one

king merlin after meeting lady guinevere and sir lancelot’s baby and falling in love: arthur. i want a baby.

king arthur, not looking up from his paperwork: …what?

merlin: give me a baby.

arthur, sighing: merlin, you studied to be a physician. i don’t think i have to be the one to tell you how impractical that is.

merlin, rolling his eyes: this is why i’m the brighter side of the coin

arthur, finally looking up: wha-

queen merlin using magic to transform her body: i. want. a. baby.

arthur:

arthur:

arthur: *stands up from his desk so fast his chair topples over, multiple parchments flutter to the ground, his tunic is already off*

#technically two but we don’t need to talk about it #merthur #merlin #merlin bbc #I want to write it so bad damnit

[inkbloodpages]

I’ve been having the urge to write a Merlin fic, so I decided to use a prompt generator for some ideas…

…It’s a little hard when the source material is already so fucking gay

#writeblr #merlin #merlin bbc #merthur #fanfiction #fanfic

[inkbloodpages]

My fatal flaw is that I feel the need to learn both Spanish and Navajo just to write a book accurately

#I should already speak Spanish #I'm constantly surrounded by people who speak Spanish #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writer things #help i hate this #i am my own worst enemy

[inkbloodpages]

Writeblr Introduction:

Name: Aja

Pronouns: He/She/Ze/They (whatever you feel my vibe is, there are no wrong answers)

I write the occasional shitty poem, and I have a few wips that I’m planning on posting about. I’m currently starting to work on a queer cowboy novel (with ofmd vibes), so I’ll probably talk about that.

@A_Human_Tree on AO3 (I swear, I’ll update eventually)

#writeblr #poetryblr #poemblr #writing blog #archive of our own

[inkbloodpages]

I met the devil’s son a couple years ago. He told me about his dad, the weight of his inherited name, and for a moment I thought we matched. He had the charm of his birthright, and he entranced me at once. I nearly threw my life away just to throw myself at his feet. And for my affection, my much too intense bloom of love, he only offered the disinterested lust of his father. I didn't realize until I was holding my heart inside my chest that you can't match souls with a devil.

#sort of poetry #angsty #i hate myself a little bit #just a little bit #religious trauma #ex boyfriend #Lucifer #poemblr #poetryblr #writeblr

[inkbloodpages]

Mother tells me I’m a woman, but she raised me like a man.

I’m my father’s oldest son, and his only daughter.

I’m my sister’s older brother, and my brother's older sister.

I wish I could tell you that I know who I am.

All I know is I’m not a woman or a man, but a secret third thing.

A people pleaser.

#shitty poetry #shitty poem #genderfluid #childhood trauma #toxic masculinity #people pleaser #nonbinary #i think i’m funny #poemblr #writeblr #poetryblr

[inkbloodpages]

Everyone is born with a soul. Most are bright at the beginning, like mine was. But they can grow dark. They can rot and fester and you can tear it apart piece by piece if you’re angry enough. If you’re violent enough.

And I was. I learned darkness from a young age, was fueled by pain and anger. So I tore apart my soul, I tore it apart and burned it. Anything to keep those unnecessary feelings out of my body. All I had was anger. Anger and a profound emptiness, an emptiness I mistook for loneliness. An emptiness I’ve tried to fill in every way available to me.

But I learned to get better. The bits of my tattered soul fought to love, to glow brighter than the darkness consuming the chasm I’d created within myself. It started to grow back. It was nurtured by the loving hands of the people I surround myself with, and my soul grew back.

It’s not perfect, but it’s strong. There are holes and there are parts that aren’t as bright as others, but it won’t be torn this time. It won’t give up.

And I’m tired of it. I miss being soulless. I miss being able to do what I wanted with no moral repercussions, I miss being able to watch movies without crying when a character died. I feel love a hundred times stronger with a soul, and loss is much the same.

The sting of betrayal hurts so much more when you know they did it despite your newfound soul. I grew a beacon of purity and goodness on my own, and she still spit in my face as if I was nothing. But I’m not nothing.

I am many, many things, but I’m fighting to become a better person. I grew a soul that I hate from the ashes of my old one, and I’ve kept it. Despite my pain, it’s made me want to do better. It’s made me the person I am. The good, loving, strong person that I am. And I will fight, long past I’m tired of it, because I’m going to win no matter what. I will be good.

#writeblr #totally didn't cry writing this #mental illness #childhood trauma #supernatural #kind of #that’s a little bit where I got my idea of a soul from #that's a stretch though

[inkbloodpages]

I can barely even write 1.5k at this point. I wrote like 500 words yesterday and patted myself on the back. Your brain is mean, and you wrote a very good amount

me: I WROTE AGAIN TODAY CUS FINALS ARE OVERRR WE'RE BACK IN BUSINESS BABYYYY IM A SUPER WRITERRRR

my brain: you literally wrote 1.5K today thats like pathetic ew rmb when you used to write 5K per day

me:

my brain: ur useless ur not good at anything

me:

me: *cries* wwwwhy do u always make me feel bad

[inkbloodpages]

This is true for pretty much every single fanfiction I wrote during quarantine. I read some of my old writing recently and wanted to chuck my computer off a roof

moodboard for when you write something late at night and get really excited about it only to read it back the next day and realize it is utterly incomprehensible

[inkbloodpages]

Chapter One- Defying Gravity

"Jackie.", I say. I try to say more, but my nose burns, and my jaw is threatening to tremble.

"No, June. Don't. Please. You know I can't let you do this." Her voice is shaky, and her nails are digging into my hand.

"Then come with me. You're just as miserable as I am. I know you are," my jaw has stopped threatening and started doing, so my voice shakes as I continue to speak, "Together we can be unlimited."

"Don't fucking-," Tears are streaming freely down her face now. I stop myself from wiping them off, " Don't you dare quote musicals to me right now."

I laugh, and the tears begin to fall. We're laughing and sobbing, clinging to each other like the world will fix itself. And isn't that the way it's always been? Me and Jackie against the world, beating our circumstances into submission. But it's all different now. I'm tired. I'm done fighting. I'm just ready to be free. To be gone. And it kills me that I can't be gone with her. I feel like I'm performing my own brain surgery, cutting the tumor that my family has become out of my brain. But it's connected to her. And I have to take her out with the tumor.

"I can't stay, Jackie. You know I can't do it. I'm getting out, one way or another, and I'd prefer the route that doesn't involve pills and a body bag."

"Promise me you will come back. Even if it's just to visit, promise you will come back to me." She's still crying. All signs of fighting are gone. I'm looking up at her, but I still see her for what she is, a scared little girl. Her grip on my hand hasn't loosened, and half my fingers are tingling or numb, but I don't care. If taking all feeling from my right hand is her way of saying goodbye to me, so be it.

"Jackie-"

"Promise."

"I promise I will visit you."

She lets go of my hand, and I feel like I have just been pushed off the world's edge. I taste blood as my teeth slice through my bottom lip, trying so hard to stop the sobs threatening to tear from my throat. I feel like I'm floating out of my body as we climb out of the tree, not feeling the pain in my lip or my hands as the bark digs into my palms. The sadness seems to float away, too, replaced by a deafening numbness.

She says more, but I don't hear. It's not until she hugs me that I return to my body. My tether to the world has returned, and a wave of anxiety crashes through my senses. What am I going to do without her? My lip continues to gush blood as I chew at it, ripping at the edges of the new wound. What am I going to do without her?

The question echoes through my mind, the only thought I can think of before she speaks.

"June. The sun is setting. I have to go home." I try to speak, my lungs fighting against my ever-tightening ribcage, but all I can manage is a sob. I hug her tighter before I let go, hoping she understands all the words left unsaid. She doesn't say goodbye to me before she walks away, and I don't blame her.

#original character #original story #misfit kingdom #mentally tired #mental illness #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writeblr