#anyway this poem.. oh god. oh fuck.
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clay man // october 2020
#oh god oh fuck it's fine everything's fine i brought the clay man poem back.#nicer repost#honestly this is one of the first ones i should have reposted but. we all make mistakes </3#crusades 2: this time god's the enemy#can you believe this is from my senior year. i submitted this to my english teacher. shit's crazy#shout out to mr. penn would love to know what mental image you accrued of me over that year#poetry#poets on tumblr#poems about identity#poems about being trans#this isn't about religion. not really. so it'll get the crusades tag but that's it#this is about human growth and having beef with god. that's separate from the specificity of catholicism#this is like... mythology... anyway.#poem#poems#poems and poetry
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@poemsbybuddie
day one: home
what makes a house a home?
it’s a question i ask for years. a question i let rot in the pit of my stomach,
a grave i try to crawl into,
some secret i think i can discover, if only i run far enough.
in a youth spent as a shadow, only ever being seen in shades of blood and bruises,
i try to find it in her hair. in the curve of her shoulder, where she will hold me when i cry,
when there is no wound to bandage or bone to sling,
just broken hearts to mend, the caverns of a kitchen table watching me every day.
as a boy steeped in loneliness, i search for it.
that otherwise unnameable thing.
the mountain that postcards cannot cross.
a person who does not get left.
i make my own assertions.
home cannot have legs. (a home should never walk away)
a home will never smile (i’d do anything to keep it there)
home should be easy, like it is to be left. home should not be lonely, like i’ve been all these years. home is no empty apartment, waiting for a plane that will never return, home should not be a secret, a grave that isn’t my own, home cannot be mine,
i know this,
like i know my blood, like i know my sweat, like i know my shame,
home cannot be mine,
when i have always been know to tear at the seams.
(i know, mom, i never make it easy. i told him to listen when i say: i never make it easy)
in some fever dreams, home is a grave, nestled next to him, the brother that never was, the person i could never save, the home that lived and died with my bones, with the cries i brought into this world, with the brother i tore away.
some nights, leg aching, litchenberg scars scrawled along my skin,
home is an old friend i hope will still come for me. home is a scar in my skin i wish never healed. home is the secrets i’ll keep till i’m at your door, again.
home is an early grave. some earthen, spring thing, begging for my touch, home is scraped knees for a smile, home is in hiding, home is in running, home is cold, impersonal, untouchable, home cannot exist, but then, i remind myself, neither could you.
maybe it is this:
home cannot have legs. but mine will carry you. home comes with scars, though i wish yours faded and mine stayed bruised. home will never smile, but i watch as your own comes easily and i think:
none of what i thought was true.
home can be a rush, a reminder to swim, home can take a bullet wound and come out the other side prepared for something new,
in you i’ve found a cavern my heart has been running to,
knees knocking, shoulders bumping, home is a magnet pulling me to you,
but still, some things stay true.
if home is an early grave then love is too. you’ve damned me to be pulled, to run, ever-constant, into the sun, straight towards you, and the wounds i’ll sustain will carry me through,
i know, you never asked for this, for me to bleed for you,
but i’ll do it gladly:
because i know.
i will never be home to you.
#buddie poem#buddie#911blr#911 show#911 fox#erm. wait a minute. 911 abc#anyways.#fucked around and made a 911 side blog for this challenge specifically#i was tired of feeling embarressed to engage w/ the fandom bc some real life people follow me on my mine and i am full of shame#like. raised catholic#full of fucking shame#anyways#i have a lot of in depth thoughts on what i meant with some of these lines butttt let's not get into that#evan 'buck' buckley#eddie diaz#maddie buckley#just thinking abt how the buckley sibling's sense of home is soooo fucked up bc their parents were not a good example of unconditional love#and then the doug of it all#like oh god they fucked up fucked up#and abt how buck must feel like the will was like. u can be ours but only in the worst case scenario only if i don't have to be part of it#like ohhh buck u are so wrong.#but buck sees eddie go on dates and goes oh okay. yeah wow i almost forgot i wasn't meant for this okay.#like. i truly believe buck is like “yeah i know i matter to eddie and whatever but like not like it to meeee” and everyone (maddie) is like#u dumbass#u absolute dumbass#poemsbybuddie#buddie poetry challenge day one#home#mitchiet writes
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the sea.
Nothing reclaims quite as well as the water. Turquoise, deep blue, a deadly hue, filling the deeps with dread. A calm rage. Ships felled, drowned, the water's rampage. Hull, body, oar, anchor; metal displacing the wild waves. Screams muffled by the depths, every cavity filled with salt, sweat, the heavens' tears. Rampant fears. The water hears none of them. Look here, after a hundred years. A car wreck, bodies strewn near it. Skeletal screams stored in the conches. The ocean's lull preserved in their bodies. Corals grow on its metallic frame; living, breathing, glowing. A fluorescent luminance of the ocean floor, thriving on the dark rust of the gears. Twisting, turning, circling, glorious. Spiraling out of the frame. The ocean's creatures feasting on them, thriving in the ruins of the land.
The sea, my lady, she smiles and she laughs, tracing her teal hands across the sandy beaches. This is her charity and her warning. All the lands that once were hers shall belong to her once again. All the rest, the forests, the plains, the deserts, the lanes; the mountains and hills and grasslands and peaks- every last bit of our lands shall be hers. Someday the skies shall reek of her ichor and salt. Someday our blood will be seagrass and fault. The sea will wrap the frail sands in her saline embrace and claim the world her child. We will become a part of her, drowning where we once swam. 70% water, they said. All hers. All hers.
#hi look at this weird little rhyming piece i wrote last month#for context i was scuba diving and my goggles filled up#fucking terrifying 18m below surface#anyways the sea is cool and heres a funky lil piece about it#sea#prose poem#poetry#prose#ocean#OH AND ALSO I SAW THIS SUPER COOL CAR WRECK FROM LIKE THE EARLY 20TH CENTURY#GOD YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN A WHOLE ECOSYSTEM DEVELOPED ON IT#THERE WERE CORALS AND FISH AND ALGAE IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL#sadly never got it on camera :(
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this night has seen a new victory for the bisexuals : one of the texts i have to read for school was part of this year's theater show (i did not play in these scenes but i watched it a lot in rehearsals) (bloody amazing it was)
#nobody cares sam#it's summer break homework#i have to read 2 books and 4 edgar allan poe stories&poems#i sense the procrastination coming#at least the eap ones are short#but i have yet to receive the other books and one of them is fucking shakespeare#how am i supposed to read shakespeare my english level is tumblr memes and gay fanfictions#why did i get into this oh my god i'm gonna die#i don't want to be dramatic or anything but i'm pretty sure i'm going to die#*screams in a vase*#anyways#bisexuals winning#bisexuality#heck yeah#bisexuality and theater/drama kids#so cool of me
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swear to god i am the biggest idiot
#so i was going thru the napowrimo tag in general#and i was checking out some of the poems#btw there are such good writers here oh my god#especially tuser filmnoirsbian i'm such a fan#anyways i come across this one poem and i'm like fuck this is so good????#i go to check who the user is so that i can send them an ask or a dm saying hey i loved your works!#....and i find out that was me#it was literally my poem#the god is a countable noun poem#well atleast i like my own works <3
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365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 318
Adjective: Possessive
Noun: Cloak
Definitions for those who need/want them:
Possessive: demanding someone's total attention and love; showing a desire to own things and an unwillingness to share what one already owns; (grammar) relating to or denoting the case of nouns and pronouns expressing possession
Cloak: an outdoor overgarment, typically sleeveless, that hangs loosely from the shoulders; something serving to hide or disguise something
#oh god#i am extremely late in posting this#i (ofc) accidentally fell asleep but ive also been so busy that i forgot to go back to my draft and finish and post this#big fucking oops#my day (yesterday) was mostly lowkey#but there was a lot of planning for creative and professional endeavours#so that was nice#but ive also been trying my damnedest (is that how you spell it?) to finish this is how you lose the time war#my loan on the audiobook on libby is about to expire and while i can just continue reading my physical copy the audiobook is so good#anyway when it comes to this prompt i love the dark and mysterious and dangerous vibes of it#my mind is thinking of a sentient 'cloak' that either grows 'possessive' of its owner and/or creator or can 'possess' whoever wears it#i fucking love both ideas so i have no clue which one i want to go with yet for my poem#thanks for reading#writing#writer#creative writing#writing prompt#writeblr#trying to be a writeblr at least
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y’know just as soon as i start getting comfortable with the idea of being open/relying on my dad and him being more comfortable with my choices than i feared, i can essentially throw all that out the window with how vehemently he yelled at me at the thought of my getting my septum pierced (even though i never said i was yet. i said my side before i decide anything else). also making underhanded remarks of me never getting tattoos other than the one for my mom. like okay don’t ask me why i don’t tell you about anything or talk to you or anything. what the fuck.
#‘i love you no matter what’ and ‘you’re an adult and as long as your choices make you happy’ out the window i guess.#are we too sober for those statements to apply all of a sudden?#and again i didn’t even say i was getting it any time soon. i said my sister wants to take me to get my first non-ear piercing.#she’s getting hers repierced & i want to get my side.#and then he started going off on me for it for no reason. and brought up the one tattoo i want to get for my mom.#and THEN made an off handed remark of a similar vein about dyed hair.#i hope he knows he’s literally the only reason i don’t have piercings or tattoos or dyed hair or like anything that lets me look how i wanna#like deadass. i know i’m your ‘baby.’ but can i please actually embrace myself. i don’t care if you don’t like alt culture. i do.#he would shun the girls i crush on fr like oh my god.#like if he knew what i really wanted to look like i think he’d disown me. won’t even have to bring up my funky relationship with gender.#literally as soon as i start thinking i can be open with this man he pulls this shit and then asks why i’m slowly getting more distant.#like wow it’s almost like i’ve been regulated and raised according to what you want and not what i want.#and you wonder why my sisters (especially my oldest who has a lot of piercings & tattoos like i want) aren’t close either? isn’t that wild?#how we never got much of a chance to explore this without reprimand until we were moved out? even as legal adults?#absolutely WILD correlation there i wonder if the causation lines up here pa. what the fuck.#anyway i’m gonna go now and not cry because my roommates are home but i’m gonna go sulk because i’m sick of this ✌️#oh wait convenient that the showdog poem went up tonight too isn’t that crazy. man calls himself out so hard lol#grace being stupid#text post#personal
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its 2am i am haing a mentak breakdown
#i went from sending a 10minute voice mdg about a poem to my friend#to getting distraught iver MORE ZPOEMS but saving her from a lecture about the poems#to catching up on skx teasers which and like okay OWAH woah these go so hard w earphones instead of#phone speaker QNDNSNDND like get lit wasnt really hitting but noe that i have earphones in i love it#ANYWAYS ANS THEN i went to spotify bc random (1) notif ??? and i saw jrock band flow had released a new song#and i listened to that and it was AMAZING i love h#their incorporation of strings in this dong#SING NOT DING NOOOO#oh my gor the typod ate insane tonight ANYWAYS strings in their sing ALWAYS sound so good?? like have u HEARD kaze no uta#anyways AND THENNNNN i went down a jeonghan rabbit hole but the rabbit hole was jjst the hair accessories#the rhinestones or whatever idk i think its a recent thing but ARAGDHSBBDND so pretty im actially havjng a .eltdown#AND THEN i saw a clip of him performing a song that sounded so beautiful and idk what the sing even if#**is; but thats a hunt for tmrw#bc oh my god is this a lot for like 30mins#this all happened 1.30-2am#i need to sleep holy fuck#kat talks
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I just get the feeling
sometimes
that people don't appreciate snails enough and it makes me sad
#snails#snail mail#Ik snails don't have like human binary genders#but snail male#pronouns are snail/male#I would now like to create short poem based on my most recent/common tags:#holy shit#anyway#anyway yeah#but holy shit#oh my fucking god#oh my god#screaming#thank you for your time
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So Berk posted a video of some poems that never made it into Lazarus Rises and I wanted to talk about my favorite one.
It's this, it's this one.
If you're just here to read the poem, fair, it's amazing and stands on it's own, honestly click the link and read the rest of them, because they're all so good!
If you're here as a fellow-feral-unhinged-raccoon and want to read my honestly unneeded analysis, it's below the cut.
Oh my god. Are you kidding me?? This was a poem that didn't pass the cut??? And it's this good?????? (Once again I feel justified in telling literally every person who spends five minutes in conversation with me about how good of a poet Berk is)
Honestly though, this is one of my favorites of the poems in that video, because it's so short, it's so simply written, and this says so much that I feel like I could write an entire essay on each of the lines themselves and their meanings (I honestly might anyways but I'm not gonna subject you guys to those rambles)
"Life loves Death"
In the same way you can't help but love an impossible task you just want to give up but that at this point is the only company you truly remember and the only thing you know how to work towards.
"Life loves Death"
In the same way we can't help but try and find meaning in beauty in the thing that truly only takes from us, because if there isn't meaning and beauty in our pain, then why the fuck do we have it?
"Life loves Death"
As something we can't take seriously. As something we truly don't understand the risks of until it's too late. As something that for some of us, we rush forward to with joy and open arms because we think it'll feel like the warm embrace of the sun but instead all we are met with is the cold cold ocean.
"Life loves Death"
As a burden, a burden that some claim is a gift. A burden enforced upon us poor poor sinners by a god in punishment. Am I talking about Apollo or Jesus? Both, neither of them, I don't believe in either, but I mean no one believed Cassandra either.
"Life loves Death"
As a needed tool, as a part of every flower we decide to put in a vase, as every dye we put in paint, as every food we are forced to consume and as the tool that at the end of the days ends up changing us.
Also something something, gods punishing poor sinners for wanting to enjoy life something something an apple and a weaving contest being the show of ultimate pride something something I don't have religious trauma you do
Like do you get it???? Do you see how insane this is??? How much information they've packed into six lines???
And I'm not even gonna go over the way Life and Death are capitalized and personified, you all already know how I feel about how impressive it is they do that, but regardless, this poem is amazing and you can pry it out of my coffin-bloodied-cold-dead hands.
As always, the source is always more interesting than anything I have to say, so if you haven't yet, go read Lazarus Rises(amongst other things) and follow them on their Tumblr @icaruspendragon because they write so many cool things beyond just their published book.
#lazarus rises (amongst other things)#lazarus rises amongst other things#berk#berklie novak-stolz#poetry analysis#brain rot#poetry#analysis
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Hello ! I hope you have a great day. Can I please request Leona, Lilia, and Rook with a cheerful s/o ? For example s/o is nice,friendly,funny and mostly positive ? It's okay if you don't feel like doing this though, it's up to you :)
Of course pooks ! And sorry for the late ass reply, I was hella busy these past few weeks (I'm always busy but still) anyways, this one was kinda fun to write, and I had "lay all your love on me" playing in my headphones too, cuz music helps me concentrate. It took me a long while to write this tho because my imagination is shit when it comes to coming up with stuff.
Cw : none ? Just cotton candy-material fluff. A bit ooc, and short asf. Rushed too
♡☆ Leona Kingscholar ☆♡
Has a love-hate relationship with your personality
It's complicated ; he finds it cute, but at the same time, why the hell are you being kind to anyone that isn't him ???
Naturally when someone has a good personality it means lots of people will want to be close to them, which is good for you but bad for Leona.
In conclusion, he : 1. Finds it a bit endearing. 2. Is annoyed bc you're a bug magnet (by bug he means people)
Also he's absolutely flabbergasted at how you manage to be so positive and cheerful.
You frfr need to teach him cuz he urgently needs it. (His pessimistic ass is jealous asf)
But he'll learn to appreciate it, eventually..
(Eventually means maybe in 30 years when he turns 50. Eventually also means probably never. Eventually means only god knows)
♡♤ Lilia ♤♡
Absolutely loves It.
He finally has someone to be funny, cheerful, and silly with.
Yall are fucking partners in crime at this point, (except Lilia does all the work and you just sit back and watch)
Now now, don't get your hopes up, just because you're partners in crime doesn't mean you're safe from his pranks
And worst of all, he'll definitely have you try his food. (You better run into the forest and never come back)
Appreciates your cheerfulness, and your sense of humor
♡♡ Rook ♡♡
"Oh mon dieu, QUELLE BEAUTÉ !!!"
Will make poems and songs about your cheerfulness and will most likely adress you as Kalim's counterpart (although you're a bit tamer than Kalim)
Will fr show up under your window/balcony at 5 in the morning and start singing about your "beauté sublime" (guitar in hand n all)
Will probably gift you a rabbit or sum. Don't ask why.
I hc he refers to you as "jumeau du soleil" or "beauté du jour" !!!!!!!
#yourfavepookiebear#rook hunt#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst fics#rook hunt x reader#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader#disney twst#x reader fics#twst hcs#gn reader#can be read as platonic or romantic#can be read as anything#the pookiest writes
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I HAVE AN IDEAAAAAAAAA!
(btw, if you wanna do this one more than my other request PLEASE DO)
highschool au mizu x reader. acidemic rivals.
mizu is literally readers worst enemy when it comes to tests and work, and the two are constantly fighting over who got a better grade
sometime after, reader starts getting unsigned love notes in their locker. they can’t recognize the handwriting as anyone they know
like a month after the notes appear, the writer asks the reader to meet them at a park
they do, and the writer was mizu (how funny) and they make up and confess
😋
pairing: high school au!mizu x fem!reader
warning(s): swearing, mizu being a lil shit
a/n: I LOVE THIS. she 100% would be like “bitch I will cut you” because she also does their fencing club and and,,,,
summary: after a while of bickering and fighting with your little rival, you start getting unsigned love notes in your locker.
word count: 823 words / 4,524 characters
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“oh, for gods sake, mizu!” you roll your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “I’ve definitely got the better grade. you may have one our last little “battle” but I will win this war of ours.”
you snicker, gazing at her from your desk.
“I don’t happen to agree, (y/n),” she gathered herself to her feet. “I have fencing practice today and don’t have time to argue about this right about now. later, maybe?”
you laugh, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.
“yeah, yeah. go do your little fighting thing, or whatever you do. I have debate, anyway,” you hiss, strutting out of the room on your high horse.
she watched as you went. she watched as you strutted away in your schools uniform; a sight that made her head race with thoughts she didn’t think she shouldn’t be thinking.
you were headed to your locker, grabbing out your books and bag. you stuff all your items in your bag.
but not before you noticed a note, stuffed in the back of your locker.
your eyes trace it, for a moment, a light pink piece of lined paper. you grab the paper, beginning to read what the note says.
an excerpt, of your favorite poem.. written and unsigned.
the words make you blush a little bit—someone, leaving such a thoughtful and loving excerpt of your favorite poem.
who in hell would be leaving you a love-note in your locker?
it wasn’t handwriting you could recognize.
a month after you found the first note, you would find another one each day. another excerpt of a poem you loved. and it got more… romantic, everyday you found another one.
and of course, you arguing with mizu never stopped. over test grades, group projects, presentations. you know, the usual.
but you didn’t really pay attention to it much, anymore. you were a bit distracted by the little love notes in your locker.
somebody was interested in you; mizu didn’t have that, and you did. why fight with someone who didn’t like you, when you could use your smarts to find out who did like you?
when you arrived at your locker again, you smiled bright as you saw another piece of paper.
you grabbed it.
but this time, there was no poem.
the same handwriting, but this time it read that the writer wanted you to meet them at the park—a park that bloomed with beautiful flowers.
and it happened to be just around the corner of the school.
you grabbed your stuff, rushing out of the building and to the park. your eyes saw a shadow, hidden behind a small tree. a shadow who looked.. strangely familiar..
you approached slowly, clearing your throat to catch their attention.
and there she was. mizu, standing with a fencing sword attached to her hip.
you blushed a little, your eyes widening.
oh.. my fucking god.
mizu. mizu had been leaving you love notes in your locker for the past month.
everything clicked for you. how she knew your favorite poems, exactly which excerpts to pick.
if you were being honest—mizu knew more about you than anyone you had ever known. even if you did fight so much.
and it was evident that she cared. evident that she liked you enough to do all this for you.
you smiled softly, “um.. hi.”
“hi,” she choked out. “this has gotta be weird for you. hasn’t it?”
“a little,” you chuckle, “but I can’t say I’m… disappointed, in a way?”
her blue eyes widen, “your not?”
“no,” you take a few steps toward her, “I just.. wasn’t expecting it.”
“neither—hah, neither was I,” she whispers. “but it was a pleasant surprise, I won’t say it wasn’t,” mizu takes in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry for all the things I’ve said, I have to say that. I’ve never been one to deal with feelings properly, and I think it came out as jealousy and anger.”
you nod, taking another pace toward her.
“I understand that,” you murmur. “I’m sorry, too. I did the same things to you. it couldn’t.. have felt good.”
“no—it didn’t, but it couldn’t have felt good on your end, either, being treated like that.” she reached out for your hand, rubbing her thumb over your knuckles.
“y-yeah,” your voice choked out, clearing your throat again. the sudden touch made your heart pound.
“I like you,” she whispered, practically into your ear. she was so, so close to you. “I really do.”
you nod slowly, taking in her words.
“I.. like you too.”
you murmur, your lips inches from hers.
she takes the initiative to close the gap, her lips pressing against yours. she holds your chin in between her fingers gently, the other hand grasping your hand.
you hum softly, pushing yourself up onto your tip-toes to get a better vantage point.
“short,” she chuckled, her forehead still pressed against yours.
“oh, shut up.”
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a/n: combined your asks!
#mizu x you#mizu x reader#mizu blue eye samurai#mizu#blue eyed samurai#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#ask#asked and answered#request#fic request#x reader
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𝕴𝖙’𝖘 𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔𝖔.
«——..✞..——»
«——..✞..——»
(DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT) (TW: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, slight glorification of both, gore, toxic love, smutty/suggestive themes, etc.) (Larissa Weems x Reader)
«——..✞..——»
“The blood on my teeth begins to taste like a poem, like religion, like the way you look at me.” ~ Sean Glatch
«——..✞..——»
Turns out, the maintenance crew was due to leave only about two hours after everyone vacated Nevermore to go to the carnival. The only catch was that Larissa had to turn it back on five hours later; some inane thing about a system catch up and not wanting to blow the lights and blah blah blah. She didn’t really seem too concerned, so you figured it wasn’t worth worrying about. Though then again, her level of reaction is often exaggerated around others. A smooth coverup to her consistent undertone of intense apathy. She’s a damn good actress, you have to give her that. Even when around you, she puts a bit more life into her eyes. Into her voice. Into her breath. It’s forced, of course. Yeah. Most definitely. She doesn’t just magically feel more alive because of you. That type of thing doesn’t happen in real life.
…Cannibals, on the other hand, happen far more often than people like to think.
If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that you’d somehow fall into a weird pseudo-psychotic-relationship with your one day shape-shifting cannibalistic gorgeous boss, you’re pretty sure your younger self would just burst into tears. Or blink maybe- and ask what a ‘cannibal’ was. You wouldn’t have an answer, of course, but that’s neither here nor there.
What’s more important anyway is the fact that you stupidly agreed to meet Larissa by Nevermore’s main entrance at exactly 9:45. You were exhausted after a day of rowdy teenagers and slow classes and it was only at about 7 PM when you remembered that your day wasn’t even over yet. Oh no no no. You still had a game to play. A game that, now as you think of it, standing by the two big doors and waiting for the guest of honor, may just go on well into the night. It depends on how Larissa’s feeling. It depends on what the ‘terms’ are. It depends on if she’s eaten dinner yet and if she has the energy to kill, cook, and clean before everyone gets back.
God you hope that’s not the case.
You really really hope-
“Always on time, I see,” a familiar voice rings through the hall, sounding from the top of the staircase.
Speaking of the fucking thorn in your side.
You turn at the exact moment that Larissa’s kitten heels start click-clacking their way down the stairs… and then promptly fall short of breath at the sight.
You haven’t seen her all day. Not even once. And now there she stands, all 6 feet and however many inches in those shoes and she’s painted against the moonlight that shines through the large windows behind her and the shadows drink her in as the air loses itself in her beauty, stealing away into her lungs and depriving you of oxygen and you, not for the first time, find yourself wondering why it’s so hard to just accept her. To just come to terms with the fact that maybe, if you ignore her insatiable appetite, you may be able to fall asleep in her arms and kiss her peacefully without feeling shame. Why can’t you just push guilt aside and fall into her body and let her pick you up and surround you and finally feel safe? And why oh why can you not take your fucking eyes off of her goddamn body? Jesus you are barely holding yourself together as she drags one slender hand down the bannister, making eye contact with you as she prowls. Those crystal eyes take on a dark, nearly black hue in the grey of the evening and you find yourself ashamed of the fact that you can’t look away from them.
Perhaps some sins are meant to be indulged in.
Her crimson lips curl into a placating close-mouthed smile. Her skin and hair are as pale and pristine as ever. Her perfume, as she gets closer, is heavier- spicier- but the intoxication of scent is the least of your worries. Oh no; the thing you’re most concerned about is the dress. Never have you ever seen her wear red. Not in your five and a half years of working at Nevermore. Not even in your dreams. Larissa doesn’t touch deep colors. She doesn’t wear the darker shades.
And yet?
Yet, there she is. Torturing you. Wrapping her long slim fingers around your attention span and taking all of it for herself. ‘Mine,’ is what she’s silently saying as she gives her hips some extra sway and shows off the loose sash around her waist. The dress reveals the curve of her calves and the tiniest bit of her thighs and suddenly you come to the (stupid) realization that she’s not wearing any stockings. Which she always wears. Which somehow, the absence of, makes your brain short-circuit and recalculate.
“Thank you for meeting me.” And before you even know it, there the Big Bad stands - hands clasped at her waist and head tilted to the side, looking like the cat who did not only catch the canary but also skinned, filleted, and served the little fucker up on a silver platter.
You feel the need to glare at her, to curse her for her beauty and her allure, but you simply can’t muster up the energy to do so. You’re tired- and your emotions are frayed- and you just want to rest- but clearly someone doesn’t want you to be at peace just yet. No, clearly, she wants you all to herself for just a little while. You’re not sure why, you’ve contemplated it before, but dwelling on anything regarding Larissa Weems is a spiraling whirl of insanity and despair that you just don’t wanna go down right now. So it’s better to stay in the present… and give her a little hum while you cross your arms. If she’s noticed that you take on such a defensive stance whenever she’s around, she hasn’t said anything. And she probably won’t either. Cuz she doesn’t care.
“Yup. Are we gonna get this over with or what?” It comes out harsher than you want it to, forcing your organs to immediately crinkle up like smashed paper as you cringe at your sharp tone.
Larissa fairs no better as her expression falls and her lips twist into a frown. The lines of her face become deeper when she looks so depressed, like she hasn’t slept in 80 years. You want so terribly to tell her to suck it up and stop acting like a baby, but you also know that her excitement about fun and friendliness is not a thing she fakes. The Poe Cup excites her. The Nevermore dances and activities and Outreach Day and this, that, and the other all bring her some modicum of joy. The kids themselves make her happy. It’s weird to know a person who has killed another human being and enjoyed the taste of their flesh… while also finding happiness in the simple annual events of their job. Like she has an alter ego; but you know that’s not the case. She’s 100% herself. Which is both admirable and scary.
“If you don’t want to,” Larissa hisses, making you freeze at the sound of undeniable ice in her tone, “then don’t make me force you. Go to bed, if you so wish. I’m not going to keep you against your will.”
Like a monster. She doesn’t say it, but you think that maybe she’s thinking it.
And though you want to respond and say But you are a monster. You have kept people against their will before. You have killed before. you decide to steer the conversation to safer shores and get yourself out of harm's way. Larissa doesn’t often get serious with you, but whenever she does it, you know better than to push her buttons. Certain boundaries have not yet been established. You never know if you are safe.
“Sorry- sorry. I’m just tired. Really, I’m fine. Let’s play and then we can get some rest. That sound okay?”
A dark gaze pins you to your spot, staring into the very marrow of your bones. It’s clear what she’s thinking. It’s clear what she knows. Like she knows you’re just agreeing to save your own hide. She knows you’re complying out of fear. She can’t hear your heartbeat, but she knows it’s running faster than a speeding train. She knows she’s shifted the line once again.
The only thing is that she really can’t bring herself to care.
You’ve complied. That’s all she needs.
“…Fine. Yes. Are you ready to discuss the terms?”
It’s obvious that the tension hasn’t dissipated entirely, but you figure that as the night carries on, that will change.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
Who knows? It may even be fun.
Larissa smiles.
It’s wide.
It’s.. scary.
Sharp.
A Cheshire grin.
Cold. Steely. It doesn’t reach her eyes. You feel sweat start to bead along your back.
“In the name of saving time, there will be one round. I will seek. You will hide. We will have 45 minutes in total. However, you will get a 20 second head start. Should I manage to find and catch you in under 45 minutes, you’ll join me for dinner. The main course will be poached lamb. And you will be required to eat it.” There’s a pause.
“All of it.”
Okay not fun. DEFINITELY not fun. So incredibly not fun.
You swallow.
“…And if I win?”
Then what? Then what if you win? What the fuck do you get out of this? What could she possibly give y-
“Then I will give it up.”
…What?
You look at her wildly. But there’s no expression on her face. She’s just… blank. White behind the eyes. Nothing. Apathetic.
No.
No.
Practiced indifference.
She doesn’t think you can win.
She doesn’t even want to consider you winning.
But all is fair in love and cannibalism. And she’s never been one to tip the scales.
“I’m sorry, you’ll what?” You’re just not sure you’ve heard her correctly. She’ll ‘give it up’?
Larissa sighs, her lashes fluttering as she purses her lips and gives you a ‘look’.
“If you win, I’ll give it up.”
…And that’s it? That’s all she’s gonna give you?
“What do you even mean? Give up the whole killing people and eating them thing? The-” You look around, suddenly nervous about a creature somehow lurking in the shadows. One can never be too careful. Probably best that you don’t speak so loudly. “-the cannibalism?” Your body leans closer to her as you whisper, though your eyes stray and scan the shadowed columns and walls of the entrance hall.
Larissa of course takes that opportunity to get closer to you and bends down at the waist, lining her lips up to your ear while you’re distracted.
“Yes, darling. I’ll give up the cannibalism.” And her voice is so husky and her breath is so warm, flushed against the side of your neck, that you nearly fall right to your knees.
I’ll give up the cannibalism.
Oh you could laugh. You could laugh and you could laugh hard. She’s joking- she has to be. And you’re about to tell her that, you’re about to turn your head and tell her not to fuck around with you, but then your cheeks brush and suddenly you’re letting out an embarrassing squeak and stumbling back to hit the door behind you.
She blinks, straightens up, and smiles down at you as though nothing ever happened.
It’s infuriating.
“You’re lying. You wouldn’t do that.”
A light eyebrow quirks up.
“Wouldn’t I?”
A heavy staring contest ensues; but you’re the only one trying not to blink - Larissa is just looking. And smirking. And god fuck her for being so fucking gorgeous.
“I’m a woman of my word, Y/n,” she purrs, watching with such amusement as you desperately try to collect yourself and steer yourself back on track.
Not that the track was very clear nor sane in the first place. In fact, the track probably leads to Hell.
Oh well.
You were never getting through the pearly gates anyway.
“Okay,” you decide, looking her up and down. “If I win, you stop it. All of it. No more killing, eating, nothing. The only protein you consume comes from livestock. Not human livestock. Just- livestock.” You nod to yourself, giving her a firm stare.
But just because you reaffirmed what happens if you win doesn’t mean you will. And she knows that. So she hums and turns on one heel, taking her burning gaze away from you and sweeping it over the floors and walls- down into the darkness of the corridors. You don’t know what she’s thinking, but you have a feeling it’s not good. Larissa can be very sneaky when she wants to be… cheating, at least in a playful little game like the one you’ll be having, is certainly not below her. In fact, she’s entirely capable of winning. Like on a level you could not even imagine. She’s been around Nevermore for how long? Counting her years in the Academy as a student and as an adult… knowing her roommate used to be the cunning and sly Morticia Frump neé Addams… well. Her big sexy shapeshifter brain probably has the entire fucking place memorized.
And you haven’t even been there for six years.
So you’re saying you’re doomed.
Yeah. Basically.
“Yes,” Larissa finally confirms, turning back to you with a quick shift of her legs. “And if I win, you dine with me.” Oh she looks so excited about that. Her eyes, somehow, are darker than they were before. No light reflects at all as they carve into your soul. Already you can tell that she’s imagining how she’ll cook the meat.
“…Poached lamb, you said?”
She grins, her smile sudden like she’s surprised (and delighted) that you remembered.
“Yes. Would you like to know what other dishes I’ll be preparing?”
At the sound of her cheery tone, your expression sets into a scowl.
“You’re talking as if you’ve won already. What makes you think that’ll happen?”
Her physical response is minuscule. Barely even there. But you notice the slight way in which her cheek twitches; and you see how her hands tighten around each other. When she responds, her red lips are curved into a smirk and her voice is soft. Soft and kind. It sends a blaze of hot warmth across your body.
“I find acting as though you already have the thing you want tends to result in obtaining it.” Her head tilts. Her eyes run over your body. From your feet to your head, over the swaying black cotton dress you’re wearing and the necklaces you have draped over your collarbones. Slow and steady. Tracing your arms… your legs… your shoulders… your waist… your breasts and your hair… not hungry for your flesh in her stomach, but hungry for your skin against her tongue. Your skin against her lips. Your skin against her own. She lets out a sigh. “And I want you.”
It’s breathed out into the night - and accompanied by the sudden loud chime of Nevermore’s clock tower.
You jump at the sound of it, immediately slapping a hand over your heart in shock.
“Goddammit! That fucking thing gets me every time.” It’s definitely not the thing to be focusing on, but you’re not sure you have the mental capacity to pick through and understand the implications behind Larissa’s words. As it is, the change of the hour means you have even less time to play before the rest of the staff and the children return.
Larissa, of course, did not jump out of her bloody skin. Instead, she watched your body tense and your eyes widen with no small amount of fondness. She thought you were silly. Adorable. Hers.
“I suppose that’s our cue, then. Are you ready to begin?” Her white teeth glimmer when she turns to glance up at the staircase.
You feel your heart start to thump within your ears.
Always the little lamb, aren’t you darling?
Yes.
Always the prey.
Yes.
Meant to be hunted.
Yes.
Meant to be found.
Yes.
No.
Wait. …Meant to be found?
No...
No no no no no no.
Not meant to be found. Not meant to be found at all. The whole point is not to be found. The whole point is to escape.
Oh? What are you escaping from? There is no one here to hurt you. There is no one here to get you. You are safe. You are safe.
Oh if only that were true…
If only she could love you without wanting to swallow you whole.
You finally sigh, resigned and tired.
“As ready as I’ll ever be, Larissa.”
«——..✞..——»
Can you tell I’m hyperfixating on her? Thank you so much for the love. (Let’s just pretend Nevermore’s clocktower works. And the power being out will come into play in the next part ;)) - Rip x
(P.S. Tell me who you want to win in the game of hide and seek.)
(P.P.S. Most of the meat referenced in this series is code for human flesh. ‘Long pork’, for example, is the official name for human. Here, the ‘poached lamb’ and other types mentioned in future is also code. Thx.)
«——..✞..——»
#rippersz#fanfictionwriter#fanfic#fanfiction#larissa weems#larissa weems x reader#wlw fanfic#larissa weems x y/n#larissa weems x you#principal weems x reader#principal larissa weems#dead dove#dead dove do not eat#dead dove fic#dead dove: do not eat#darkfic#cannibalism#cannibal larissa weems
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covey’s 1k follower event 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹
oh. my. god. are you shitting me??? bffr. like, seriously guys. this is INSANE LIKE WHAT. THE. FUCK. anyways, i’ll stop screaming- jk, thANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH. i am the most grateful person on the planet right now, you guys are so so good to me and i couldn’t be happier i started posting on here!! honest!! this wasn’t even a dream of mine- honestly?? i thought id get lost and forgotten in the tags, destined to never be found. and even THAT i would have been grateful for. so…yeah, thank you!! this feels me with a joy that can’t even be measured 🥹🫶
AIR MAIL—
playlist for fic, blurb, or hc of your choice!! (mind you, these are probs gonna be like 3 or 5 songs, nothing too crazy!!)
PACKING PEANUTS —
tweets that give off the same vibe as you or i think you would find funny!!
POSTAGE —
moodboards! either for a work of mine or any character from pjo + hoo!!
SHIP ME A SURFBOARD —
memes to make yall laugh. thats it bc im a silly girl
BUBBLE WRAP —
i pick a marine animal plushie that reminds me of you or i feel matches your vibe!!
POST OFFICE AFTER HOURS —
poetry for the soul!! poems that i feel you (or the world) needs to hear!!
NEWSPAPERS—
more little tiny blurbs!! this time around, let's get a little crazy with the characters!! i wanna write some platonic stuff if you guys are down to ask for it!! but also the romantic stuff too!!
MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE —
(moots only! sorry!) basically, i give yall a letter telling you what i think about you and things that you remind me of and whatever else i have to yap about!!
EVENT MASTERLIST —
₊✩‧｡⋆𐙚 𓆝
RULES —
pls, only one option per request !!
up to three separate requests in one day, as to not completely flood my inbox !!
make it clear that the ask is for the event and not a request, please and thank you !!
event will be over on MAY 10TH
normal requests will open MAY 14TH (UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED)
some kindness and patience is always appreciated !!
𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞.• ° . 𓆟
𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞.• ° . 𓆟
TAGLIST/MOOTS —
@ivyy-covered-walls @puffoz @brodieland @sunshine-of-ur-life @literallyimthenerdemoji @aezuria @wren-that-writes @imasimpdealwithit @shimas-things12 @pumpkinbxtch @starrynightmovietheatre @static-symphony-fm @aezuria @ellipsisspelled @percys-princess @aryxchse @vodkori @annybah @riordanness @balletfilmss @meerpea @ssparksflyy @simha-nakshatra @waitingonher @jgracie @maybxlle @bvttoneyes @blondwhowrites @canonfeminine @chbgigi1 @crownofgildedlilies @cinemaconrad @sunnitheapollokid @pinkdiorluvr @s1utlvr
#dividers by 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘺#dividers by artemiies#covey’s 1k follower event 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹#all my love ౨ৎ#pjo#hoo
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Toxic!Sorority!Vanessa X Reader. Father.
Shout out to @707bot1 for giving me the sudden inspiration to finish this <3
You left your English philosophy classroom in a rush, Vanessa had told you to meet her by the fountain before 2, so you could both go out and get something for lunch. You where to busy on moving that you didn’t see the man in front of you, bumping into him face first.
“ Oh my, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you. “
“ oh, not a problem kid, I shouldn’t be standing in the middle of the path anyways. “
You looked up at the man, he had wrinkled features, but still looked pretty young, had to be just above middle aged. He wore an old pair of thin metal framed glasses, and his hair was brown, combed over slightly. The lower part of his face was a stubble grey goatee that went up to his ears.
“ are you lost? Looking for someone? “
You politely asked, you’d still have time to meet Vanessa and help this kind stranger.
“ nah. Just looking at my building. Names on the plaque Yaknow. “
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, you looked up quickly at the plaque above the big doors.
The ‘ William Afton ‘ English Hall.
You practically shook with excitement, turning back him.
“ your Mr.Afton?! Oh this is amazing! I’m such a big fan sir, I’m studying to be an English major, an English philosopher to be exact! Oh but also author, I’m sorry I’m just so excited to meet you! “
“ Haha, oh no worries, why don’t I walk ya to where your going, so your not late. I’ll answer any questions you have too, love meeting a fan. What’s your name? “
“ Y/N! Y/N L/N. Oh my girlfriend won’t believe this, I’m meeting her now. Thank you for taking this time to do this. “
William smiled, offering his arm for you to hold. You graciously took it, wrapping your arm around it as you both walked. You’d ask him questions on his career, and he’d respond in big stories.
“ so, your a mechanic by trade, but you also Drabble in poetry? Those two can mix quite well if you know what to write! I once had to write a whole poem about a car. I had no clue how to make a ford F150 into a stanza. “
“ Ha! Yes, in my earlier years I worked in animatronic technology that was used to make performing robots much more interactive with children. But poetry has always been natural to me, I’d never forget it. “
“ amazing! That technology is surely something. Oh, there she is. Vanessa! Look who I found! “
You waved vigorously to the blonde sitting on the fountains edge. She glanced up at you, before staring at him. You let go of William’s arm and trotted up to her, taking her hand.
“ Vanessa, this is- “
“ well, if it isn’t my little rabbit. How had my girl been. “
Vanessa stayed silent, gripping your hand tighter as she stared at William.
“ Y/N, has Vanessa never told you? This..blonde law major is my daughter. I figured you’d realize from her last name. “
“ my name is Vanessa Shelly. Y/N let’s go. “
Your heart fluttered, you dated the daughter of the man whom you had looked up too for years.
“ why didn’t you tell me Nessa! Oh he should come get lunch with us! “
“ No Y/N. He’s not. Now let’s go. “
William chuckled again, rubbing his head.
“ ah, don’t worry about it. I can see Vanessa’s doing just well. Spending my black card on those outfits and god knows what else for your little house. Maybe I should stop by and meet everyone- “
“ NO DAD. Stay the fuck away from my sorority, stay the fuck away from this campus, and stay the FUCK AWAY FROM MY GIRL. Now let’s go Y/N. “
Vanessa dragged you with her as she stormed off. You tried to wave bye to William as you left, but Vanessa just grabbed your hand. You made your way down to the parking lot. You sat in the usual passenger seat of Vanessa’s car, as she quickly started to drive off.
“ I don’t want you to ever. And I fucking mean EVER talk to my father again, do you understand me. “
“ why? You know I look up to him- “
“ He’s a horrible, horrible human. Now you fucking promise me you won’t talk to him again, let alone hold his arm like that. “
“ Ok! Ok fine, I won’t talk to him again. “
You both remained quiet on the rest of the car ride, starring out your window as she drove. When you both arrived at the small cafe, Vanessa pulled your face towards her by your chin, kissing you gently.
“ I just don’t want you getting hurt, ok baby? “
“ alright…I’m sorry..”
She kissed you once more, and smiled.
“ mm, good. I love you~ “
“ I love you too nessy…”
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okay the post u made trying to find the author of that poem made me think of an essay i lost that ive been looking for for a loooong time and im gonna take a chance and see if youve read it or could help me find it (but also feel free to ignore this if its annoying lol).
it was an essay by a young author, i would say she was in her 20s? for some reason the names emily or lauren ring a bell but thats just me guessing. the essay was about an experience she had with her family hound dog named maggie growing up. they lived in a mountainous area somewhere in the midwestern US or maybe more out west. the dog used to go up the mountain everyday that was basically in their backyard, and one day she was attacked by wolves. she was able to escape alive and make it all the way back home, torn to shreds. i cant remember if she died from her wounds or lived for a long time after that. but it was so fucking poignant and there was a deeper meaning to it and god i really wish i didnt lose it :') i remember reading it on some website, idk if it was published anywhere else, and i want to say she wrote the story in response to winning an award? idk if that helps at all but ANYWAYS if u have ever heard of this. that would be so cool lmao
OH MY FUCKING GOD IGNORE MY LAST ASK I JSUT DECIDED TO LOOK FOR IT AGAIN FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES AFTER TRYING SEVERAL TIMES BEFORE WITH NO SUCCESS AND I FUCKING FOUND IT!!!!!!!! its the half-wolves by emily ruskovich
I'm so glad‼️
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