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scarlettaagni · 11 months

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Ellipsis Hush

@redacted-metallum illithidposts enough that I just looked them up to see what’s up and now I am diseased. Realized Eclipse DnDified 1:1 would be a failed ceremorph and he’s such a freak and asshole I keep thinking about it

Ordinary city guard “Ellipsis” Hush was shot in the head in the woods on a pursuit and an illithid larva crawled into the wound as he was dying, which brought “him” back but stunted its ceremorphosis, leaving his memories unchanged but also giving him the impression there was nothing after death, which completely broke him as someone seemingly born with Catholic guilt constantly striving to be a good person to his own detriment and now thinking it was all for nothing and that he was just a terrible person the entire time. A self-fulfilling sentiment constantly reinforcing itself since the process also completely eliminated his filters, self-restraint, impulse control, and ability to derive pleasure from anything short of physiological stimuli. A “if this is what I am with no restraint then I was just a monster the whole time, really” sort of situation, along with a “if I’m going to be punished anyways after trying so hard to be a good person then I’ll do whatever the hell I want if it’s all the same”.

Still unclear if “Ellipsis” is the larva with all of his memories or if it's still HIM with brainworm (singular), not that it actually affects anything.

After a few months of hoping that a world shattering epiphany would just fade away and he could be normal and happy again, Ellipsis ran off from his family and all responsibilities to murder (for fun, and food) and loiter and wander all he wishes. He really loves offering to play piano for free at taverns because everyone in his life discouraged him from pursuing a bard class. So legally he’s missing and waiting on being declared dead. “Ellipsis” was a nickname he acquired after the escape for his very long awkward pauses in conversation, and he’s hush-hush about his first name. He also makes up a million names on the fly like Luno Umbra, Eccentra Veil, Isi d'Tranquil, Kal Amar, or Osupa Grave, etc.

Illithids hate him for not being an illithid, and everyone else hates him for being an illithid and separately an asshole. His party hates him too but he's their ride (stole his and his partner’s carriage to live in on the run) and distraction/interrogator. He’s stupidly close to being that Adversary legend illithids fear except he's not full-illithid at all, which somehow doesn’t do much to alleviate these accusations cause he’s the same guy he was pre-ceremorph (which illithids really hate), just a worse person because the promise of an afterlife being ripped out from under you does that.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, Ellipsis completely denies being an illithid in any capacity. He DOES eat brains but insists it’s a choice that has nothing to do with his psionic powers that suddenly started manifesting after his accident. It also just happens to be a coincidence if he doesn’t eat a brain every few weeks or more often he starts feeling real shitty. Also just happens to tap into illithid mind frequencies like someone intruding onto a private radio frequency.

Poor suckers like failed ceremorphs don’t have the tentacles to slurp brains out of skulls so he’s gotta crack those babies open the old fashioned way: incredible violence (with that clawed glove he calls the can opener).

He wanders around, killing random people to satisfy that craving, usually as a result of getting into a bar-fight or accosted for loitering or any confrontation about his other behavior, and keeps the brain-eating detail on a need-to-know basis even if he’s more open about the murder thing. Like the party will have to kill a guy and Ellipsis will drag him away like “I know a guy” and just eats his brain in private and tosses the body down some pit in the woods. The guy he knew was himself.

Ellipsis calls his mind/psionic energy reading ability his brain radio, and can feel growing storms of psionic energy in the environment.

He’s also just some cheesy motherfucker who actually doesn’t like lying because he’s really pissed that life itself is built upon lies and made tolerable only through them, so he’s just shamelessly truthful and blames others for not getting innuendos (blatantly admits to murder but phrases it carefully). To him, lying by omission is not actually lying, everyone else just needs to be more specific and ask more questions. He’ll say aloud he had someone for dinner or regarding an NPC he “talked to outside” and then nobody else ever saw again that he picked his brain, and when his party learns about the brain-eating thing and get big mad, he’s just like “??? I told you, y’all are just dumb”

The man could gaslight a curse into not fulfilling its parameters, he loves fucking around with semantics and definitions to get his way.

That funky fit of his is a slightly cut-up guard uniform from his old city, but a shirt is supposed to go under it. It’s his hot girl summer, so he won’t.

He has a very nice poncho/cape thing he wears over it almost all the time to further conceal himself but it doesn’t want to be drawn right now so that’ll be later

Ellipsis’ face is quite recognizable and his eyes freak people out, so he wears that veil. His eyes are an off-putting icy blue which doesn't totally disconcert people, at least until he tells them they used to be black. The ceremorphosis would have turned them white but it stopped at a light blue.

He has no clue how to answer if asked whether or not he’s undead. He acts like it, but it wasn’t like he was brought back with magic. He was dying... then he wasn’t. That would get you his patented ellipsis...

#nerd stuff #my art #scarletta doodles #OCs #AUs #DnD #Eclipse #Ellipsis Hush #illithid #trypophobia #injury

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solidaritytek · 1 year

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If you need rancher songs my pinned post has a link to my rancher playlist :D

Specifically good ones would be Woke up new - The mountain goats, Magnolia - The hush sound, Like real people do - Hozier, Ellipsis - Larry and his flask, In our bedroom after the war - Stars

My rancher playlist is the most important thing in the world to me I need everyone to see it

Oooh! Thanks for the heads-up! I'll definitely check it out!

I love finding new music, and I am more than happy to find other ranchers fans!

#Shut up Lavi #aromanticwhore

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rebfile · 2 months

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In the soft caress of the ocean breeze, her hair dances—a dark cascade of whimsy, alive with secrets whispered in windswept strands. Her eyes, a pair of fathomless pools, hold within them the serenity of still waters and the twinkle of a starlight serenade. There's a hush about her, the kind of quietude that speaks louder than the clamorous fray of the everyday. Clad in the easy azure of a sky just kissed by dawn, her shirt sports the silhouette of palm trees—those lanky harbingers of sandy tales and sun-soaked memories. She is not just standing there; she embodies a pause, a deep breath between the sentences of life's perpetual narrative, her gaze an unresolved ellipsis tinged with longing for chapters unwritten, horizons unexplored.

Oasis in Blue

In hues of tranquil seas she stands, Amid the whispering of sands. A soft mirage, she takes her place, Beneath the boughs of palm's embrace.

Eyes of depth where stories swim, A symphony in silence grim. With every breath, the air she weaves, In the gentle rustle of the leaves.

A spirit draped in sky's own thread, Where morning's dew and dawn are wed. She, the break in a ripple's crest, A heart in quiet chest.

Leaves and warmth upon her traced, In fabric's fold, a landscape graced. A single moment's peaceful lease, Her stillness speaks of softest peace.

#woman #ocean breeze #azure #serene #palm trees #tranquil #poem

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sgtjbbhasmyheart · 3 years

Text

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Two

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2921

Warnings: bad language words, blink and you’ll miss the angst, just some fluff

A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

You awoke with a start, feeling as if you were late for work or something important and forgot to set your alarm. Your heart beat an erratic tattoo against your ribcage. Scrambling for your cell phone, you blindly reached across the side table near your bed in a panic. Unplugging the phone, you brought the device an ungodly closeness to your face. It was only 6:17. On Saturday.

Your pulse throbbed behind your eyeballs, and a strange stickiness coated the inside of your mouth. Did you drink that much last night?

How could you not? Timmons was a fair boss, and you enjoyed your job, but that dude loved the sound of his own voice.

The quarterly business dinners were mandatory for all employees, even for the P.A.s. Typically, they weren’t so bad, but last night, Timmons felt the need to toot his own horn for landing a massive contract with Stark Industries slash The Avengers. He went on and on about how great it was for the firm.

He was like a giant kid in a candy store with his ramblings. ‘We will be promoting the face of The Avengers and everything that goes with it,’ he spouted off like the firm was god’s gift to public relations.

You groaned at the reminder of last night’s presentation. The contract wasn’t even in effect yet, and you were sick of the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Timmons could be a real buzz kill.

Rolling to your back, you brought your phone up to tap the screen to read the emails you received overnight. On display was a text from 11:04 by someone named James. It read: “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Your mind went back to last night again, trying to recall who this James was. He must be significant if you plugged his contact information into your phone already. Had you met someone last night?

Drawing a blank, you clicked on the text bubble to pull up the thread. Briefly scanning through the numerous texts, everything came rushing back. In an attempt to text your sister, Robyn, you mistakenly texted this mysterious, James.

You felt like an utter buffoon when you learned he wasn’t Robyn. You always did have a way with the cute boys. Probably why you were single. You groaned out loud as you read on.

You im safely inside my apartment. Pretty sure no one followed me home

James Did you triple check the lock on the front door?

You yes dad yeesh

James There are a lot of bad people out there. Just want to make sure you’re safe.

You sounds like you watch the news too much but its sweet of u to care

James I know from experience.

You r u the bad guy or have u been the one mugged?

James Let’s just say I have friends that have dealt with the bad things of the world.

You right i almost forgot ur a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie

James Did you ever send your sister a text?

You shit thanks for reminding me i have such a crazy story to tell her

James Only good things, I hope.

You oh yeah all the good things an enigmatic yet handsome stranger cares more about my safety than any of my ex-boyfriends ever did.

James My ma raised me right.

You id say

James_ I hate to cut this short, but I think you need your rest. Especially if you’re meeting your sister tomorrow._

You i dont want to agree but ur probably right

You whats ur name btw?

James My name? Why? Do you plan to continue texting me after tonight?

You duh ur fun to talk to

James Oh.

You or not its cool if u dont want to

James It’s James.

You nice to meet u james im (y/n)

James Nice to meet you as well.

You my sister just texted me back and were still meeting at 9 i should go

You goodnite james

James Goodnight, (Y/N).

Oh. My. God. Had you seriously drunk-flirted with a stranger and offered to keep texting him? You had no shame with a few drinks in you.

You brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and sighed loudly.

What did you know of this James? He had a New York area phone number. Check. He could have been a real dick about your mistake but wasn’t. Understanding. Check. He worried about you getting home safely in your inebriated state. Caring. Check. Not too forthcoming with the nine to five. Secretive. Check. His mouth looked so soft and plush, and his eyes were made to drown in. Gorgeous. Check.

A heat simmered beneath your skin as you recounted the shortlist you’d made. Were you lusting over someone you’d exchanged less than forty texts with? Had you somehow woken back up in high school?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you stared at the screen displaying the message thread. Were you really considering this? You nodded your head to answer your own question. Where was the harm in a little shameless flirting? If worse came to worst, you could always block him.

With your mind made up, you began typing into your phone, constructing an apology.

You Good morning! First off, I want to apologize for the way I behaved over text last night.

You Though, I do like to imbibe in the occasional drink or two, I am, by no means, a lush.

You Please take everything I said with a grain of salt. Apparently, I get loose-lipped and cheeky with free wine. 😐

You Again, I’m sorry and understand if you wanted to cease our correspondence for my behavior.

You blew out a breath and tossed your phone aside. It was up to fate now and a stranger named James.

You laid in your bed for several minutes staring at the ceiling, contemplating between whether to send a ‘haha just kidding’ text and what the weather would be like, so you could forego shaving your legs in the shower today.

Your phone chimed during the pondering of hair removal, indicating a new text. You knew it was James proclaiming you a freak and to forget his number, but secretly, you hoped it was Robyn canceling today.

Seizing the phone from your mattress top, your heart’s beat increased with each second you went without looking at the screen. Finding the courage, you flipped the device over to read the message.

James Quite the formal apology, Ms. Professor.

You smiled at the text. It didn’t tell you to pound sand or eat shit. No, it was teasing and in jest. You sighed in relief.

You Cease our correspondence too much?

James No, no it was perfect if this was 1863, and you were breaking up with me via telegraph.

You Stop!

James Exactly! ‘Never speak to me again!’ Stop. ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ Stop.

A belly laugh disrupted the tranquil air of your bedroom. You quickly thumbed out a reply once you caught your breath.

You You’re incorrigible.

James I’m glad to see you are using proper capitalization and punctuation this morning.

You Ha!

You When you are buzzed and/or tipsy, capitals and periods be damned. Like you’re so perfect when you’re drunk.

James We all have our flaws.

Was he implying he was a sloppy texter when drunk, too? You shrugged it off as him being cryptic again.

You What are you doing up so early on a Saturday? I didn’t wake you, did I?

You were suddenly stricken with guilt. You should have waited for a more reasonable hour to send out rapid-fire apology texts. Not at 6:36 in the morning. You didn’t want last night’s behavior hanging over you, though. Better to clear the air now than later. You could always ask for forgiveness again if you had disturbed his sleep.

James I had just gotten back from my run when I saw your texts. I have training this morning.

You Oh, right. For your hush-hush, super top secret mission/quidditch game.

You You ever gonna tell me what you really do?

James_ Maybe. Someday._

How far away was someday? Was he planning to text you until you both died or until he got bored? How did texting relationships even work?

You Or is it one of those situations where if you told me you’d have to kill me?

James 😈

You There you go again--being all mysterious.

James Keep ‘em guessing and coming back for more.

You Has that strategy worked well for you in the past?

James Got you to text me again this morning, didn’t it?

You scoffed at what he had suggested. He was correct, but your stubborn streak would deny everything.

You The only reason I texted you this morning was to apologize for acting like a drunken fool last night.

And to squash the curiosity burning in your veins. But he didn’t need to know that.

James Oh.

The reply caused you to furrow your brow and your stomach to drop. You regretted not adding more levity to your last text. Of course, it wasn’t the only reason you were drawn to him.

You I appreciate that the selfie you sent wasn’t a dick pic. And you genuinely seemed to care about me getting home safely. Thank you.

You And maybe- a teeny, tiny bit- is honestly interested in getting to know you better.

You waited on pins and needles for his text, watching the pulsing ellipsis on your screen. Was he just humoring you?

James Hook. Line. Sinker.

Reading his response generated a flush from your jaw to your hairline. You growled in embarrassment. You fell for the oldest trick in the book. He baited you for a compassionate answer, and you delivered beautifully. Hook, line, and sinker, indeed.

You You’re an ass. I take everything back.

James Don’t be mad. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but you played into my trap wonderfully.

James If it makes you feel any better, all kidding aside, I want to get to know you better too.

James I fell asleep with a smile on my face last night and woke up with one this morning.

James Because of you, (Y/N).

A flutter broke apart in your chest. You hadn’t time-traveled back to high school; no, this was junior high territory.

You You’re lucky you’re so damn charming, James.

James Doll, you have no idea.

The subway ride into Manhattan usually gave you the chance to get a little reading in since it took nearly fifty minutes from Queens. Not today, though. You spent the entirety of the train ride texting back and forth with James. It was mundane stuff, but you were getting a grasp of who James was as a person.

You Favorite color?

James Black. You?

You Blue.

You Favorite ice cream flavor?

James Chocolate. Yours?

You Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.

James I didn’t realize we were getting specific.

You We weren’t, but that’s my favorite.

You Favorite movie?

James I like the classics- The Wizard of Oz, It’s A Wonderful Life, Frankenstein.

You I have too many to list, so don’t ask.

You Okay. Lightning round because I’m almost to my stop.

James Where are you going again?

You paused your reply for a brief second, wondering if you should divulge your destination. You’d known James less than twenty-four hours; although, it felt like weeks after this morning. Where was the harm in telling him where you were meeting your sister? There were nearly nine million people in this city. There was no way you’d ever bump into each other.

You A bakery in the Upper East Side called Two Little Red Hens. Ever been?

James Don’t think I have.

You Well, since you like chocolate, they have a fantastic cake called Brooklyn Blackout. Super rich but delicious.

James Sounds right up my alley.

You Cats or dogs?

James I’m gone too much, so cats.

The answer piqued your interest. Maybe he was an athlete. Wouldn’t it be practice and not training, though? Or he’s FBI or CIA.

You Socks on or off for sleeping?

James Off.

You Silver or gold?

James Silver.

You Morning, noon, or night?

James Night.

You How do you take your coffee?

James Room for sugar and creamer.

You Boxers or briefs?

James Boxer briefs.

You laughed out loud, looking around the subway car to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Per usual, they weren’t.

You Touché.

As soon as the train stopped, you gathered your purse close to your body and made for the exit. You followed the crowd of fellow passengers through the turnstile and ascended the stairs onto street level.

The morning sunlight caressed your skin like a warm blanket. The humidity wasn’t too bad, yet, but the threat of afternoon thunderstorms still hung in the air.

Even with the reasonably early hour, the sidewalk was stuffed with people, carrying to-go coffee cups or shopping bags. You fought for your little spot of real estate on the grimy concrete.

Stopping at a red traffic light, waiting to cross, you typed out another question for James.

You Pineapple on pizza--yay or nay?

The light changed as you finished, and the throng of pedestrians around you guided you across the street. You spotted Robyn outside the bakery as your phone dinged with a new text alert.

“Wow, I’m surprised you made it on time,” Robyn said as you hugged hello.

You looked at the clock on your phone. 8:58. “You and me both, sister.” Glancing back at your phone’s screen, you giggled.

James What kind of monster puts pineapple on their pizza??

“What’s so funny?” Robyn asked as you accompanied her through the bakery’s door.

With a grin on your face, you punched out a quick reply:

You Well, it was nice knowing you, James. It was a swell friendship while it lasted--a whole 11 ½ hours.

Robyn elbowed you softly in the ribs with a look on her face, seeking an explanation.

“Ow,” you grunted. “What?”

“You tell me. I half expected a zombie to walk through the doors today after your text last night. Not Suzie Sunshine.”

You both edged closer to the counter as the line in front of you dwindled.

James Say it ain’t so, doll! Pineapple on pizza? Really??

You let out a low chortle as you skimmed the text. You glimpsed up at Robyn as you shuffled forward in line again. “Believe me, I’m pretty hungover,” you replied, shoving your phone in your back pocket. “It’s a funny story. I’ll tell you everything when we sit.”

Robyn stared at you warily, still trying to figure out what had come over you. “Okay,” she conceded, stepping to the register to order.

With each of you supplied with an iced coffee and a peach ginger scone, you found an empty table by a window along 2nd Avenue and proceeded to tell Robyn about James.

When you stopped to catch your breath, remembering the whirlwind the last twelve hours had been, you peered at your sister for her reaction.

She stared at you like you’d grown a second head. She shook her head in disbelief. “(Y/N), what where you thinking?”

Your brow pinched in confusion. Was she actually scolding you? You crossed your arms over your chest. “I was thinking about how my big sister is always telling me to meet new people and how it’s time I thought about settling down.”

“Not like this it’s not,” she hissed. “This is how your body parts end up in someone’s freezer!”

You choked on the piece of scone you shoved in your mouth before she started ridiculing you. After coughing to clear your airway and taking a sip of your iced coffee, you leered at Robyn. “Oh, my god! Dramatic much? Have you been binge-watching Dateline again? Jesus Christ, Robyn, he’s harmless,” you countered.

“You think you’ll be so careful, but you’ll let one little detail slip, and he’ll find you,” Robyn said before taking a pull from her coffee.

“You mean, like, how I was meeting you at Two Little Red Hens at nine o’clock?”

Robyn’s mouth popped open in an O. “What the hell, (Y/N)?” she stage-whispered. “Are you trying to get yourself kidnapped and sold into sex trafficking?”

“Please,” you drew out in one long syllable. “He doesn’t know what I look like. How would he snatch me?”

“He could look you up on Facebook.”

“Without a last name?” You shook your head, no.

“What about a reverse search on your number?” Robyn asked, pushing the plate holding her scone away. “That’s a thing.”

“Perhaps, but it seems like a lot of effort for a mistake I made. It wasn’t like he was seeking me or anyone else out.”

Robyn huffed out a breath and folded her arms in exasperation. Always the protective big sister. You could tell you were breaking her down, though.

“C’ mon, Robbie. It’s all in innocent fun. I’m not saying I’m hoping he’ll turn out to be Mr. Right, but the banter is fun,” you remarked. “James is charming and witty and nice to talk to.”

Robyn shook her head once more, frowning. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You reached across the table for her hand and squeezed gently. “Me too.” You smiled slyly, remembering last night’s dinner and Timmons gushing about The Avengers. “If not, I know how to get ahold of a couple of centenarians who know chivalry isn’t dead.”

Chapter One | Chapter Three

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#drunk texting is(n't) bad for your health #dtibfyh #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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unlockthelore · 4 years

Text

catch me, won’t you?

Part 6 of Know-It-All a.k.a the modern AU snippet series that no one asked for. To find other parts of the series, follow the know-it-all tag.

shijimeikme#1231 — direct message with nenehime#1113

nenehime AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

shijimeikme what is it I’m studying

nenehime are you really studying??? (¯―¯٥)

shijimeikme fair

shijimeikme what is it

nenehime I’m coming over

shijimeikme okay??? but the screaming ( ¬_¬)

nenehime i messed up

shijimeikme bad enough that you gotta scream???

shijimeikme did you text aoi???

nenehime no not yet she’ll do the thing

shijimeikme the protective best friend thing where she defers to murder first?

nenehime it’s almost scary that you know that

shijimeikme been hanging out with u guys long enough

shijimeikme alright ima clean up, tell me what happened

Nene was hard pressed to stay where she was while waiting for Amane to wake up. The sides of her phone case pressing uncomfortably into her palms as she gripped it tight enough that she could hear the plastic cracking. A slight fumble to keep from breaking it resulting in her phone smacking against her face and only Amane’s soft huff reminding her not to groan in pain. The throbbing on her forehead reminding her of the contrast, his lips soft as they brushed against her skin, leaving a kiss that was quickly drowned out as he sang the last line.

Looking her in the eye.

Just like —

She wanted to scream or kick out her legs or do something. Staring out the window as the evening sunlight slanted through, lightening the dark blue curtains and running over the carpet to the edge of Amane’s bed. His arm loosened its grip around her waist and Nene could move a bit easier but she stayed where she was. As much as she wanted to rant and rage, she found herself just laying there. Looking around the room and memorizing every inch of it.

His telescope in the corner.

A number of books on his shelf, rearranged in sequence, with a soccer ball propped up beside them. The dust collecting on the trophy hidden behind it. Posters of his heroes on dark blue walls, a mosaic painting of the Apollo 11 moon landing, the light catching and making the moon shine. The glare catching on the dark screen of his television, a shelf beneath it with books and games organized on either side, his system tucked away in the cabinet.

How many hours did she spend here playing games with him when they should be studying?

His slight grin when she won and rubbed it in his face only to start up another game while she wasn’t looking.

Would that all change because she knew now?

Looking down at him, her breath hitched when he started to shift and his eyes slowly opened. His cheek brushing against her chest as he raised his head, resting his chin against her chest and staring up at her with sleep-glazed sunset eyes.

“Yashiro,” he called, voice husky with sleep. “What time is it?”

Nene’s eyes widened and she fumbled for her phone, pressing the home button to see the time and another message from Mei.

“About five,” she said, shifting from beneath him as carefully as she could as he rolled to the side. “I should start heading home.”

She chose to wisely ignore the way that his voice made the back of her neck warm or twist her stomach in knots when he looked her way. His eyes were oranger than gold, or was it golder than orange? If she got a better look. Zipping her bag shut with more force than necessary, she downed the thought before it could grow any further. There was no way she could do that. Being that close to him —

Standing up abruptly, her knees almost buckled but she forced herself upright, picking up her phone from where it laid beside him. Amane lying on his side and peering up at her with a soft grumble, his fingers curled in the sheets.

Why.

She pressed her phone to her chest, holding it tightly, trying to slow the racing of her heart. He looked so vulnerable, small as he curled up in a ball, his eyes squinting to avoid being blinded by the light. Wide eyes that looked up at her with trust and fondness, faint dark circles beneath them showing he could use a bit more sleep, and his smile. It wasn’t teasing or cat-like but wide and warm, crinkling his eyes at the corners and stealing her breath away.

Oh no, she couldn’t do this.

“See you tomorrow, Amane,” she blurted out, gripping the strap of her bag and hurrying downstairs.

Tsuchigomori raised his hands as she flew past him, peering at her curiously. “Where’s the fire..?”

“I just have to head home, parents… y’know.”

Lying to him was so difficult. Not only because he was a teacher but he always seemed to just know. His hum was judgmental and she could feel his gaze on her back, analyzing her with a scrutiny that might have made her crack if she looked back at him. Tugging her shoes on, she stood and bowed deeply.

“Bye!”

Throwing open the doors, she looked down at her phone, squinting against the glare from the light.

shijimeikme#1231 — direct message with nenehime#1113

nenehime I came over to amane’s to hangout and he was so tired so I tried to cheer him up then we were singing and it was all nice and he kissed my forehead and said he loved me

shijimeikme …. Just like that

nenehime well… yes… and no…and kinda??? It was part of the song

shijimeikme but he kissed you

nenehime my forehead

shijimeikme which is a part of you

nenehime hnnnnnn I knooooooow meeeeeeei

shijimeikme are you still there???

nenehime no I’m leaving

shijimeikme did you talk to him before you left

nenehime does saying see you tomorrow count

shijimeikme baby no

shijimeikme hurry up and get over here

nenehime AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

shijimeikme see now the screaming makes sense

Throwing her phone into her bag, she hurried off as quickly as her legs could carry her. Amane’s voice repeating like a song she couldn’t get out of her head.

koulest#0206 — direct message with hanako#0724

hanako i fucked up

koulest to the surprise of no one

hanako kid ur killing me

koulest wh

koulest I’m olny few years younger thn u

hanako and shit at spelling too

koulest I’m going back to bed

hanako wait kou no listen

koulest whaaaaaaaat???

hanako so how would you cope w/ falling asleep on ur crush

koulest ….. what did you do

hanako so yashiro came over and tsuchigomori must’ve said something to her bc she was trying to get me to stop studying

koulest to be fair you don’t take breaks

hanako hey hey that’s not the point

hanako stay on topic

koulest mmmmm you didn’t deny it

hanako kou

koulest alrgiht alright damn so what

hanako I was sleep deprived kinda and she played this song and we were dancing and

koulest wait how sleep deprived

hanako stAY ON POINT

koulest HOW LONG WERE YOU AWAKE

hanako LONG ENOUGH TO KNOW I FUCKED UP

koulest you know what??? fair

koulest continue

hanakoshe played fly me to the moon

koulest soft but mmm think theres more to this

hanako look up the lyrics

koulest ohhhHHH fuck

hanako does your brother even let you curse???

koulest if you and I wanna survive he better not find out

hanako anyway we were singing

koulest ….

hanako kou

koulest you did a duet w senpai

hanako why do you still call her that but not me

koulest because you might be older than me grade-wise but up here we’re the same

hanako did you tap your head??? you know I can’t see you right

koulest HUSH

koulest okay, so how’d this lead to you falling asleep on her

hanako I got comfortable and… she was telling me to take a break and I was gonna just lay down and when I woke up I was on her

koulest did you do anything to her

hanako WH no what do you take me for

koulest (;￢＿￢) do you really wanna know

hanako killing me

hanako anyway I was faking sleep when I woke up bc I was trying to figure out how I got here

hanako and she’s messing with my hair

hanako then I “woke up” and she was on her phone and said she had to go

hanako and idk if she actually had to go or no but we didn’t talk bout it

hanako and idk if I made things weird cause this isn’ the first time

koulest back up

koulest the fuck do you mean this isn’t the first time

hanako ….

koulest oh no NOPE you don’t get to do the ellipsis of disappointment

hanako the wh

koulest mitsuba

koulest but that’s not the point TELL

hanako mmMMM mitsuba ok

koulest the fuck does that mean

hanako ANYWAY we were stargazing awhile ago

koulest post or pre kodama incident

hanako we do not speak about the kodama incident

koulest still can’t believe u did that

hanako kou no kodama incident please

koulest alright, alright what happened

hanako we fell asleep and when I woke up we were cuddling???

koulest idk if u have the best or worse luck

hanako don you mean worst

koulest nah ur luck just gets terrible w the day

koulest anyway did she talk about it w u thin

hanako then???

koulest I’M GOING BACK TO BED

hanako KOU WAIT NO

hanako yeah yeah she talked to me

hanako and I asked her if we could cuddle not as friends

koulest ??? Don’t leave me in suspense what’d she say

hanako she said yeah

koulest …. Okay why do I think you’re leaving something out

hanako am I?

koulest u were sleep deprived so you might’ve done something to make senpai skip out

hanako I can’t think of what tho and if I ask her

hanako so fkinembarrassed

koulest maybe if you actually slept

hanako shUT YOUR FUCK

koulest get some sleep we can talk about it tomorrow

koulest GET SOME SLEEP

hanako fuck we do have school tomorrow

koulest you would know that if ur days weren’t blurring

koulest BECAUSE YOU DON’T SLEEP

hanako GOOD NIGHT KOU

koulest oH FINALLY

Amane’s phone screen went dark, reflecting his own flustered face, and he grimaced at the sight. Dropping his phone to his chest and burying his fingers in his hair as he squinted at the ceiling. It’d long since gotten dark and Tsuchigomori ordered takeout, Yako coming over, and their usual bickering distracted him from his thoughts. Insisting that he’d be heading off to bed when he was only paying partial attention to one of their arguments that he’d been drawn into. Weighty sharp gazes following him and their voices were hushed as he disappeared from sight, no doubt trying to glean the meaning for his behavior.

How was he supposed to tell them that he might have scared off the girl that he liked because she was trying to make him feel better? Hell, how was he supposed to justify it to himself. The heels of his hands pressed against his eyelids, making the stars on his ceiling blurry and his eyes water. Deep down, he almost wanted to cry.

It took him a full six minutes to register Nene’s hasty goodbye and another two to hurry after her with the insistence of walking her home. She didn’t hear him, tapping away at her phone, her shoulders hunched and steps brisk — reminding him of that day. A muffled curse behind his hand as the memory came to mind.

The day was perfect. Like a scene out of her favorite movie, and her eyes were so warm and trusting. She believed every word that came out of his mouth. And that was it. He meant it, meant that he liked her, perhaps not love but he did like her and —

He hurt her.

Ruby eyes glistening with unshed tears, the ones that managed to slip free in silver streaks down her cheeks were quickly wiped away as she jerked away from him. The dull ache in his head from her headbutt was nothing compared to the sharp pain in his chest. Seeing her walking away from him, rubbing her eyes from tears he caused, all because his intentions were good but his method wasn’t.

What more could he do but apologize to her?

Could he really expect her to believe him when he lied before?

His phone slid off his chest as he shifted onto his side, pressing his cheek against his pillow, the smell of earth and something sweet filling his nose.

Nene.

It could only be her. And he mentally kicked himself, burying his face against the pillow and clutching it tightly.

kannoaoi#0320 — direct message with nenehime#1113

nenehime AOI I NEED YOUR HELP

kannoaoi name and what’d they do

nenehime wh— （・□・；）no not like that

kannoaoi just kidding （⌒▽⌒）mei told me what happened

nenehime

nenehime message

kannoaoi well it doesn’t sound like the kodama incident again

kannoaoi if he was as tired as you said maybe he meant it

kannoaoi or maybe he was delirious

nenehime not helping aoi

kannoaoi what im saying is that talking to us is well and good but you should talk to yugi

nenehime but how do you talk to someone whose bed you woke up in twice

kannoaoi how do you talk to me? (✿╹u╹)

nenehime aoi you’re different

kannoaoi and I’m glad you think so but nene whats one of the most irritating tropes from your books

nenehime besides power imbalance???

kannoaoi mhm

nenehime miscommunication

nenehime … oh

kannoaoi oh (✿◠‿◠)

Flower emojis were supposed to be cute but somehow Aoi could make them both that and absolutely threatening. Locking her phone screen, Nene stared at her own reddened faced worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Black Canyon rolled across her pillow, colliding with her cheek and she closed her eyes with a sigh. Letting her phone fall to the side, her hands cupping around the mischievous hamster as she sat up and tucked her knees in close.

The contents of her bag spilled out over the shag carpet, her books face down and obscuring the heart shaped design from view. Her gaze drifting to the ceiling then her curtains, the stuffed animals and movie posters barely discernible in the low lighting. Her teal hair falling in her face as she rested her head against her knees, nuzzling against Black Canyon’s fur. Honey and brown sugar from the shampoo that she used bathe him still fresh. Pressing a kiss to his head, she set him on the floor and let him run around, pushing the ball that he’d come to claim as his own.

Black and white, checkered just like the one in Amane’s room, bumping against her dresser and the walls. Sitting back with her head against the wall, she almost wished for the glow in the dark stars on her ceiling. Checking to make sure that Black Canyon wasn’t nearby as she toed off her bed, bending down to pick up the objects from her bag. Her books heavy in her hands, thumbs running over the embossed titles.

What was she going to do come tomorrow?

It wasn’t as if she could just hide in her room or avoid him. No one was at fault but the knots twisting in her stomach and the fear of having dashed hopes meant something. Pressing her lips to the spine of her book, she tried to remember the warmth of his hand and the gentle press of his lips against her forehead. That wide smile, soft and all for her.

I just wanted them to stop making fun of you.

Was it really that bad?

If he liked her and she liked him, did anyone else really matter?

And even then — why would anyone tease for her liking him when he was so…

Draping her bag on her chair, she tip toed over to the window and pulled the soft cherry pink curtains, opening her window slightly to let the cool air come in. Her arms crossed on the window sill and chin resting atop of them as she looked out at the cityscape. Thousands of lights wavering in the distance, dancing as her eyelids fell and she sighed. The moon wasn’t out tonight and she wondered if he was dismayed by it.

He kept track of the moon phases on his calendars so she doubted he didn’t know but she wanted to check anyway.

Though with the way she left, would it be alright to text him?

Was he offended because they didn’t talk?

Or should she just do it anyway?

They were still friends.

Black Canyon’s soft squeaks made her smile and she rested her cheek against her arms, watching him as he bumped the ball against the wall, trying to get it to change directions. Scurrying after it with all of the speed that his tiny legs could afford him.

Sometimes, she thought it must have been a lot easier to be an animal.

Like a hamster or a fish.

Lingering by the window for a moment longer, she sighed and drifted back to her bed, picking up her phone. The light shining in her eyes were momentarily blinding and scrolling through the recent messages, she found the thread with Amane and her finger hovered over it.

Yashiro, I love you! Please go out with me.

I love you.

hanako#0724 — direct message with nenehime#1113

nenehime no stargazing tonight I guess

nenehime amane

nenehime about earlier can we talk?

nenehime …please

Nene had never been one for flippant use of prayer. In fact, she tried not to pray for things that were selfish if she could help it. But right now, she really needed this. Even if it went wrong and something happened that couldn’t be taken back — it was better than this.

A gentle chime and a notification popped up on her screen. She pressed her phone to her forehead with a ragged sigh, sagging down to the floor. Black Canyon’s ball tapping her side as the hamster squeaked at her.

hanako#0724 — direct message with nenehime#1113

hanako yeah

hananene squad — 5 members

koulest added kannoaoi to the group.

koulest added shijimeikme to the group.

koulest added aoi_a to the group.

koulest added elemonate to the group.

koulest added snapmitsu to the group.

koulest renamed koulest, kannoaoi, shijimeikme, aoi_a, elemonate, snapmitsu to hananene squad.

snapmitsu TRAFFIC EARRING yOU ASS

koulest wrong chat mitsuba

elemonate im sory but what was the right chat

aoi_a sory?

elemonate yeah like you

aoi_a rude

shijimeikme assuming we’re all here for the same thing are we gonna talk about our friends pining or…

koulest is pining even the word anymore

koulest wait role call how did everybody find out

kannoaoi nene

koulest amane

snapmitsu being added to this gc

aoi_a u can leave anytime

snapmitsu fuck u im staying

koulest okay but can we talk about what we’re gonna do about them

snapmitsu like are we picking sides

koulest wh NO why would we pick sides we’re both of their friends

aoi_a idk if I’d say that

kannoaoi akane

kannoaoi and don’t worry too much kou

shijimeikme aoi’s right, we don’t have to do much of anything

elemonate ….. what did you two already do

kannoaoi planted the seeds, so watch them grow

snapmitsu a gardening joke???

kannoaoi this IS nene we’re talking about here

shijimeikme yeah kou so just let the stars align

snapmitsu am I having a stoke is this what a stroke feels like

aoi_a so basically we were called for….

aoi_a nothing if we’re being honest

koulest no no I wouldn’t say THAT - sigh - we’re out here in case anything happens

elemonate like what super senate

koulest yeah like sentai WARRIORS

kannoaoi and the two people we’re talking about aren’t part of this little band of heroes

koulest do you want me to make a whole gc with all of us???

snapmitsu nope a server

koulest wh

aoi_a more space for pins

elemonate you mean memes

shijimeikme you mean pictures

kannoaoi you mean puns

aoi_a aoi please

snapmitsu heathens all of you

aoi_a tomorrow is gonna be fun

snapmitsu for who?

shijimeikme yes

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #toilet bound hanako kun #hananene #yashiro nene #yugi amane #know-it-all

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waronawrites · 6 years

Quote

The lady lies on a cold iron stretcher, the only thing diving her spine from the surface Is a White Cloth, a clean White Cloth, not warm enough, not soft enough to protect her From the Stretcher. She can’t move - her wrists are tied to the sides, her ankles anchored down by a fabric much tenacious Than herself. She keeps her eyes closed but water still seeps out, like a broken faucet, A leaking pipe, a chest full of turmoil and unrest, coughing and spluttering, a guttural cry Unleashes from her sandpaper throat, She wants to go home. She is naked, no clothes, no nothing, just the White Cloth under her back like a cape, A cape that has no use or purpose. Heroes and Heroines never fall, they’d never let their Capes fall under them, they’d never use their capes as shields, but that is all she Can do, so she doesn’t have to feel the stinging cold metal underneath her. She wants to go home. The lady on the stretcher stares up to a strong light, one that envelopes her in Incandescence, exposes her to those who she wishes to hide from. She lies in a room Where men with suits write notes on clip boards and speak in hushed tones Into each other’s ears, never to her, she wants to go home. They’ll cut out her brain, or pump her veins with something that will eventually Cease her humanity, her livelihood, her ability to feel something, she wants to go home. The lady on the stretcher cannot move, she is an experiment, she does not know what the Hypothesis is, what the results will be, she is purely the process, the middle part, the question mark, The ellipsis, and she wishes to be a full stop, or an exclamation mark, she wants to be an Answer, She wants to go Home.

Warona, The Lady on the Stretcher

#poetry #poems #prose #poem #spilled words #spilled ink #creative writing

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annocinema · 4 years

Photo

Simple 3-shot shot flow today. Interesting thing about the first two shots is that, as far as I can tell, it breaks 180. In the first shot Taisuke looks towards the right to the woman, and in the second shot the woman looks towards the right to Taisuke. But anyway, that's not why I thought this shot-flow was interesting. Instead... In the first shot, Taisuke tells the manager why he's here. As the audience we already know why, so Okamoto doesn't need to let us hear what he's saying. On top of that, it keeps with the idea that the bar is loud and that Taisuke is keeping things hush-hush. The manager reacts to Taisuke by looking up at him, speechless. No lines are used in this shot-flow. Only expressions. Her shock confirms that she knows who he's here for. We then cut to the third shot, and the woman is already guiding Taisuke to see Harada. An ellipsis cut. Just love the confidence in the directing and writing here. Not only is there no dialogue to convey what's going on, but there's an ellipsis cut meaning Okamoto's confident the audience follows what's happening despite a time jump. #Hideakianno #庵野秀明 #gainax #eva #evangelion #neongenesisevangelion #エヴァ #エヴァンゲリオン #ヱヴァンゲリヲン #新世紀エヴァンゲリオン #シンゴジラ #shingojira #shingodzilla #composition #makingmovies #moviemaking #videoediting #editing #videographer #videography #videoproduction #filming #film #filmmaking #filmmaker #director #premiere #cinematography #production (at Sunnyside Gardens, Queens) https://www.instagram.com/p/B6D1KBjAtvL/?igshid=1reo2z21v0awx

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olivieblake · 7 years

Note

Hi! 🤗 I wanted to ask how do you write dialogues. Like, the punctuation of the dialogues. I've translated one of my OS (one of the Marauders doing things) into English, and I want to make sure it's as perfect as possible before sending it to any beta to correct it (know any?), and I'm struggling A LOT with the dialogues. In Spanish, is super easy once you know the rules. In English, I'm going crazy because I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHERE OR HOW I'M SUPPOSED TO PUT COMMAS IN BETWEEN DIALOGUES. Help? 🙏

Hi hi hi! I’m so glad you’re asking because to be totally honest, punctuation is an easy litmus test for me; if I have doubts about the quality of the writing, I look to see if the dialogue is formatted correctly. If it isn’t, 9/10 times I’ll stop reading. SO, in conclusion, I’m happy we’re discussing this now!

1. Put a spoken sentence in double quotation marks.

“This is a motherfucking sentence.”

2. Dialogue tags (the she said/he asked/they answered parts) stay outside the quotes and get separated by a comma.

“Dialogue is easy,” Olivie said. “See how there’s a comma right there? Sometimes people use a period, but that’s just not fucking correct.”

Olivie advised, “Be sure to use a comma when separating the dialogue tag from the rest of the sentence, you beautiful fairy princess!”

3. If something happens before or after the dialogue, it gets its own punctuation.

Olivie screamed. “I love polka!”

is me screaming first, and then saying I love polka; which is different from:

Olivie screamed, “I love polka!”

which is just me screaming about polka.

4. Punctuation goes inside the quotes. If a dialogue ends with an ellipsis (…) or em dash (—), don’t add extra punctuation.

“I guess I’ll just keep talking about—” she trailed off. “What the fuck was I saying?”

5. Dialogue that is quoting someone else goes inside the double quotation marks with a single quotation mark.

“Well, as Sally once said, ‘love is murder,’” Olivie declared; quite unnecessarily, as nobody had asked her to speak.

6. START A NEW PARAGRAPH WHEN THERE IS A NEW SPEAKER. This is so important, please always do this.

“Oh my god,” Sally gasped. “What the fuck?”

“I agree,” Olivie concurred, staring at the mai tai. “There’s not nearly enough small umbrellas in this mai tai.”

7. If something interrupts the dialogue, it’s still part of the same sentence, so it remains in lower case letters.

“You,” Sally began, winking outrageously, “are a bang tidy piece of ass.”

is different from:

“Hush, my gay lover,” Olivie wailed. “Where I come from, you’re DEAD!”

…and that should be enough, but let me know if I’ve missed anything!

#writing advisements #punctuating dialogue

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laydizzleswag · 5 years

Text

And in the dark,they left me

Their voices were in hush

They dont want me to know.

They have their world

When mine was them.

And that's my mistake.

I took them in and adored and took care of them as I know how to love

When they seldom think of me.

Trust was never a part of them.

They don't trust me

#poem #prose #words #ellipsis #heart #dizzlewords

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scarlettaagni · 10 months

Text

And I'll KEEP reblogging Ellipsis Hush until you acknowledge him

#nerd stuff

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artist-uncovered-blog · 7 years

Text

Unmarried by Odessa Clark

The word husband has always had a funny taste in my mouth; somewhat like a baby tooth, bleeding on its last bit of skin. The fall out is inevitable. I just try not to swallow it. Still, there I am; barefoot in his kitchen. Hot oil pops my wrist and elbows. I tell myself it’s just a more painful form of anointing; that I’ll be blessed after this. I’m cooking calamari and chicken alfredo for dinner while planning breakfast in bed for the morning after.

Music fills my legs and mixes well with the rising steam. “Boooogie ooon, Reeeeggae Woahman.” My hips swivel on their own. They’re disobedient that way sometimes. He liked how my body didn’t always ask for my permission to sway, writhe, or bounce. “He” shall remain nameless, detached, and distant. He’s sitting on the couch pumping his thumbs on a game controller. He pauses to stick his tongue at me, and grin. One corner of my mouth pitches. I miss him; even when he looks at me. I’ve been homesick for the past; for our beginning. I unlock the other half of my smile and carry our plates to the couch. There is no blessing, no grace; no practiced kiss. He forks the food into his mouth. “Mmm…good,” he grunts and continues to play. This isn’t home. I wonder how we got here; how I became this understanding, this quiet, and this “liquid”. I must be like my mother in more ways than I care to admit. She often melts too. She always has for my father’s sake.

He licks his plate clean without much taste for conversation. I can barely eat with my mind so full. Where else does his heart live? I know my hands are too small and cramped for it. I clean the kitchen, hush “Stevie” and undress everything but my doubt. He turns off the television and follows my trail of ellipsis to the bedroom. He steals my waist from behind and kisses my empty neck. “What’s wrong, lady?” he probes. I sigh and break “Everything”.

I look for my skin; for my ten naked fingers. It’s all there without a ring.

#shortstory #poems #poetry #creativewriters #creative writing #love #unmarried #authors #writers #paid to write #get paid #artistuncovered

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denouae · 4 years

Text

finifugal: verse xv.

cigarette ash like wildfire, burning holes in the nighttime. verse fifteen, as endorsed by the historical portraits, hung askew.

some people were born with carnage instilled in their bones, marrow rotten; they reek of death in the whispers of transparence.

he is one of them.

for them, somehow demise is not a full blast, totality like the rest of the fortunate. for them, it does not simply end in the absence of heartbeats and erratic breaths. for them, walking is like limping ( the other foot is in the grave ): bones crack, crack, cracking but they never crumble completely.

( even time does not spare him. even oblivion does not swallow him. )

ask the universe if immortality is a curse or a blessing, especially when your throat is clogged with youth suicide in bloom.

the tale may seem rushed, all sulfuric vignettes in the corners of his personal morgue. the reality is anything but. it is dissected, dissolving:

I. OBITUARIAL GENESIS.

birth happens twice: the first is another dent to mother earth, all formalized cry echoing in post-partum throat. this is his introduction to rapture, absolute and visceral. he is everything soft, bird-boned in the cradle of their handcrafted empire. the throne to their royalty, studded in default innocence and untainted arteries.

first years are cocooned in a husk of hushed tones and imprinted kisses. her fingerprints are the topography of his dreams; his mind indented with the colors of her smile. umma is the atlas and appa is the ocean. this is an empiric clause to a living illusion.

and as always, theatrical curtain falls descend: their throne was born fissured, with rusted gems and faux shine. beneath all the gloss: decay in the shape of ivory, covered in drying rust.

deceit comes in the shape of a scream cloaked in laughter. ( and isn’t it always easy, to believe the latter? )

II. HELIONIC PLAGUE.

fate holds him between her teeth, waiting for the first of his blood to drip down her chin. breaking is a habit when he’s nothing but a museum of papier-mâché boyhood, carefully stitched on the edges. the suture comes undone in the form of a muted catastrophe.

infused in his veins: a power, so tremendous, so universal, so overwhelming. astral blessings to dictate and dispute notions. she collects elements that orbit the solar system, drying him off his genetics and replacing the boy with what she knows would cultivate chaos. before they know it, he burns: smoke rising from pores the ocean can’t kill.

to inject discord is a child’s play. men’s wings are clipped with greed. almost comical, almost scenic.

this is how she plays the game. the saline sickness is insatiable: it ruled the globe once, it would want to rule the stars, too.

the ocean once gravitates towards the moon, but it realizes that the moon is nothing compared to the supernova.

III. BAREFOOT LIMINALITY.

in the beginning of war, there is a tragedy.

this one is wrapped in silence, in the house of god.

there was once a god; in a story where the tapestries are faithful, halls sighing echo of prayers. kingdom of this apostolic church, fingers indented with rosary beads, mouths cremated in holy gospel.

who knows that even god sins?

his faith shatters the hardest when her body hits the pavement, her petals scattered. what the homily never disclosed: there is a puncture in his kindness and it spares no one.

sorrow is a cracked floor of the cathedral that sinks him, with demons watching from its stained glass windows.

IV. APOTHIC PERDITION.

he descends along with their caskets. to die is to empty a body. humanity is an option long gone.

another foot sunk to the sand, beach washing the shore in gentle persuasion.

he doesn’t know where else to run except away from the coast.

the tabernacle is filthy with rage, the religion nothing but treacheries. he seeks another belief in the depth of the water, not knowing that the floor is another traitor.

unlike the bible, however, the anchor teaches him to destroy. it does not feel as suffocating to fill his lungs with lies and smudge his hands in glory. there is no lighthouse to guide him home, but he finds atlantis along the way.

and it asks: doesn’t it feel good, to play god?

V. LIMBIC GUILLOTINE.

in the ellipsis of his panoramic wounds, lives the warmth of summer. in the future, it will sting. in the present, it lies dormant. in the past, it carved dreams.

he learns that the sky does not sleep.

when it tries to, it bleeds. poured in a transcendental hemorrhage before darkness takes it away. sometimes, it becomes night. sometimes, hurricane takes over.

precipitation is another spelling for catharsis. there is a god above the other. the god he once knew forgot to tell him that salvation often begins in the stream.

the god he once knew forgot to tell him that not all gods walk on water.

( some drown in it. )

that is, until they learn to part the sea and walk between the columns.

VI. PARADOXICAL COLOSSEUM.

in the end of a war, there is another tragedy. even at the brink of its demise, it demands another casualty.

pretty lips enclose around the neck, ripping open the jugular. he has never witnessed so much color in the waves. he has never predicted that the ocean, too, spills blood.

an oxymoron of sacrilege: a god’s mind is not made of eden. an exoskeleton of forgotten altars: this apocalypse to his psyche.

nobody believes that no god is sane.

but moreover, nobody believes that gods sometimes weep over the destructions they inflicted.

VII. SACRED FORMALDEHYDE.

he is neck-deep in neural rigor mortis.

the syllogism is, even god needs to breathe. logic is an overlooked mistake, emotions a product of murderers. the world does not crumble when a god falls, submerged underwater.

splinters of past are what he has: like a vulture on his shoulder, whispering

even the apostles do not miss you; even the worshippers know of your monstrous intents.

gods are beasts wrapped in halos, but no saints admit to being sinners.

in the end, gods die in the hands of non-believers.

when he architects his own resurrection, he rises not as a messiah but as the crucifix.

VIII. PHENOMENAL SURREALISM.

but even crucifixes wither, weathering. he fractures twice before there is nothing left to snap but his brittle, residual bones.

( the first rule of atonement: do not forgive, do not forget. )

he remembers them by their fingerprints around his throat. and with them, he perishes after burying his corpse in the backyard.

what he never foresees: sometimes dandelions grow on graves, reminiscing over days when caskets keep the memories alive.

what he never foresees: i. ) testaments do not cease existing centuries after the god’s death. ii. ) he can turn an atheist into a believer that worships the sins in his blessings. iii. ) there is a life post-mortem where someone sees him as nebulae.

( for once, eternity is a baptism, a second birth. )

#abt.#ver: xv.#tw sacrilege #tw body horror #tw parental death #tw blood #tw violence

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