#i haven't written angst in a while so this was good outlet

[edgeray]

Arlecchino is a cold person.

(Arlecchino x Reader Blurb)

It's no suprise to anyone. It is simply an objective fact of the matter. She is aware of this. The House of the Hearth is aware of this. The Fatui are aware of this. It's ironic given the nature of her vision, but it nonetheless rings true despite the fire she possesses on her blackened fingertips. She is callous and curt, and underneath her skin there is nothing except frigid ice that envelopes her being like a fitted coat. She speaks with no warmth, acts with the absence of heat, exists in a constant state of cold emptiness--a state in which there is a void inside of her, as if sucking all that is human of her.

Years ago, when she was just a child of the same orphanage she headed, she had naive thoughts of finding companionship, someone who would provide the warmth she sought on lonesome nights. She was barely just an adolescent who dreamed of lying in someone's arms, feel the heartbeat of another so surely, it would remind her that she was indeed alive. For even the briefest of moments, she yearned for someone who would, if not shield, then distract her from the cruelties of this world. She had shed those foolish wishes aside. In the House of the Heart that she was raised in, such notions were admonished, in fact, the wishful thinking was one of the reasons she had nearly lost her life. Never again, she had promised to herself, when she mercilessly beat the backstabber. It was then that she believed when the time came, her tale would end the same way as it began for her: alone. As the years of being a Fatui, then becoming a Fatui Harbinger, hardened her, there was comfort in that view.

That is what she believed in. Until you came.

Iciness wraps her being. It is present in her expression, in her words, in her touch. But that is exactly why she finds solace in your being. Her vision could only grant her a synthetic flame, but, you, you're an everlasting hearth. She melts in your embrace every time she slots herself in your arms, as it feels like a kindling ignited in her heart. It is only with you, that she learns how warmth can be found in.

Arlecchino is a cold person.

It is why you, as a warm one, is perfect for her. You whisk away the most depraved thoughts, ease her of any emotional and mental turmoil, and you do not treat her with the same coldness as the world seems so fond of doing to her. You are her flame, the one that sparks her being and reminds her that she is alive because her heart beats with you, beats for you.

Except you are cold now. It is unfathomable to her how you can be this way when your entire being exists to warm her, but when she touches your skin, you are unbearably frozen. Your body does not tremble like it does when her clawed fingers ever so gently trace your skin. The corner of your lips doesn't quirk up into the usual small smile of yours when she appears in your sight, but they remain ever rigid like the rest of you. Uncharacteristically, your expression doesn't soften with her presence.

You are cold, just like her. And that makes her afraid. Her hand searches for it, prodding your skin for a familiar thumping that is nowhere to be found. You continue to stare at her, unblinking. Here would be the moment where you give her a beaming smirk and you'd cup her face tenderly as if she was glass. And she would let you, because you are her beloved, who has watched her shatter so many times before and wordlessly each shard back together, and it is for that reason that she would lean closer towards your touch.

Because you lie broken in her arms and her hands are stained again with the familiar color of red. Your eyes are glossy and gaze unblinkingly at her. Frozen. Even when you are covered in your blood, you are beautiful, she notes, but oh, so cold that it makes her doubt if you were warm to begin with.

She misses your warmth. Where has it gone? Or has it died along with you?

Her hearth is gone. And as she clings onto your form, her body wracking with a fear and desperation she's never known before, two revelations come to her: that there is no such thing as an everlasting fire, and even after so many years ago, she was right along.

Arlecchino is a cold person. And she will remain always cold.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #i wrote this instead of writing the actual oneshot I was planning to publish on Wednesday #whoops #i was in a little angsty mood 🥰 #that's mbad #if it comforts you the next oneshot is pretty wholesome #surprisingly whipped this up in like... an hour or so #is this my usual quality? no but #this was kinda fun #i haven't written angst in a while so this was good outlet #did you guys know I'm primarily an angst writer? :) because I am #and you will see that in the future #edgeray.blog #edgeray.writes

[wyrdify]

@galeleads asked: 2. What's your favorite piece of poetry right now? 10 Munday asks | Currently accepting.

So, I follow Button Poetry on Facebook since I like to read newer poetry, and they inspire me to write my own sometimes. They shared one of Blythe Baird's poems back in January, and it really hit for me. As a warning, it mentions suicide, so you can skip that if you want, but the link is here. It's a short poem, but damn is it powerful.

I started writing a lot of poetry when I was a teen, and it became an outlet for the shit I was dealing with: grief, abuse, teenage angst, et cetera. When I was in college, though, I took a poetry class for my major, and my professor basically told me that I couldn't write poetry because I took a lot of her writing prompts too literally (hi, autistic brain here). That kind of killed my desire to write poetry for a long while. Years, actually.

Last year, I started writing a little bit of poetry again. I used to get ideas in my head, but I'd never write them down because I didn't want to ruin my journals. Laziness, forgetfulness, and not thinking my writing was good enough, were also factors. I have a journal where all of my poetry goes. I haven't written a lot, but it's there.

#galeleads #thewriter; answers #thewriter; promptedanswers #suicide mention tw

[youareunbearable]

Tagged by: @theheirofashandfire thanks boo!!

Rules: List five things you never get tired of writing or drawing; it can be tropes, themes, characters, phrases, whatever brings you joy. Then tag five people!

Hummm ok so first off im gonna go with:

1) World building! I love sitting around planning out how aspects of society would work in AUs. Religions, cultures, mixing my lore in with canon lore, gender and sexuality norms and customs etc. Actually now that I think about it, world building anthropology lmao. I never really post my world building, but in high school I filled up sketchbooks expanding on the Shapeshifter people in LotR and how Magic would work with different cultures in Harry Potter that didn't use wands or magic words and I've rambled at my friends loads of times about transformers world building ideas lol

2) Angst! My therapist told me its good to write my feelings and I often projected them onto my blorbos to do so and its really cathartic. For my job (and with my family) I dont often get a lot of outlets to showcase negative feelings, so when im feeling low i tend to write, which means that a lot of my stuff has angst in it. Sometimes I'm making my characters go through my hurts or just the feelings, but either way I enjoy writing it. I'm trying to be kinder by including more happy endings or hurt/comfort, but the comfort part never feels as good to write as angst -shrug-

3) story retellings! My culture has a lot of oral storytelling, and I personally see myself as a storyteller (i teach history, which are just stories) and so I love taking a story and ploping my blorbos into it! This is why a lot of my metas/ficlets are just retellings but with something different, like a concept from my culture, or a piece of history that I really like, or a trope that I really enjoy. Sometimes they're just straight up crossover aus like my transformers/velveteen rabbit fic. Sometimes I dont get to the part where its the actual story retelling, but I've done a lot- raven steals the sun (silm deamon au), Greek tragedies (that one ficlet i have about mae and nienna actually was a retelling of achillies grief over patcrolus), The Cat Came Back (i made it that huge coswave idwxtfp crossover), etc. I got a bunch more that I forgot and/or haven't posted

4) Song Fics! I grew up on old 2000s amvs and I love spinning the blorbos in my mind while listening to something. I'm pretty sure I have adhd or something but taught myself to make up fantasy stories instead of moving around to stay still like my parents asked so I always have to have music on. Almost all my ficlets/metas/actual fics are written to the plot of 1 song, or a playlist. You can actually tell with some of them what song I was listening to lol

5) Devotion. There is something nice about writing people who just, will stay by you. Or come back because they realized they csnt be without you. Or what happens to that person when the person/thing they devoted themselves to is Gone. Maedhros/Fingon hits all my buttons for that, and so does cosmos/soundwave, and grantaire/enjolras, or remus/sirius, or steve&Robin, and I've made tracks/raoul that lol. Devotion whether its platonic or romantic im so fond of know that my characters have or has had someone that sees the world in them

Im not tagging anyone cause idk any1 that wouldn't mind being tagged BUT I AM FORCING @tracks-and-raoul bestie babe u gotta do it!

#amber rambles #about me