vilify

Cold

Lately when I’ve been having weird or unpleasant thoughts I’ve tried journalling, which turned into mediocre prose poetry. Some of it is almost worth sharing in my opinion, so here's some of it. I am by no means a poet, so don’t put your expectations too high if you’re examining it as a poet. I hope some of it still resonates with some of you.

I'll try to post something every Tuesday!

Of Boxes

I Did My Best

I Love You

Saving a Life

Margin of Error | Care | Shrinking | Mockery | Fuckup

cross the line | Collateral Damage

Upon Reflection | When We’re Done | Bloodied Cuticles | Return

Junk Heap

This is my main WIP! I won’t spoil too much in the summary here but it’s science fiction and takes place thousands of years after humans disappeared, leaving the odd ruins of their hyper-advanced tech. A race of supposedly mindless foreign invaders called the demons attack the Archipelago that composes the entire known world, and the story follows one exiled demon who wants to:

1) Find out why no one really remembers how the war started, and

2) Live.

This will mostly consist of lore (worldbuilding and character) posts, and some occasional snippets. I'll try to post Junk Heap on Sundays, but I'm not always very consistent, so don't expect it to be too regular.

Table of contents TBA

The Light of a Setting Sun

This is my side WIP which is secretly a Junk Heap AU that became an entire other thing. This one I might post the actual story scenes rather than just lore posting like for Junk Heap, and I want a lot of it to be completely unspoiled, so my description here is quite vague. The premise is very simple, that a young woman is the Chosen One tasked with saving the world from the Dark Lord. I won’t say anything else here, but there is a good reason why it starts out so derivative.

I'll try to post about LSS on Thursdays. However, out of the three, I am most likely to skip posts because I'll probably hold myself to the highest standard when posting about LSS, so I'll likely post very rarely (monthly, or even less often). This makes Thursdays also a miscellaneous day when I might post whatever I feel like that week.

table of contents TBC

Day 1: When It Falls Apart

Night 1: What Came After

Day 2: Dusk and the Shadow

Night 2: As It Were

Day 3: Other Destinies

Night 3: Ghost of a God

Day 4: Someplace Else

Night 4: What Came Before

Day 5: The End of the Circle

Miscellaneous

I have a couple additional projects on the go! They are all either smaller projects, or need a lot more time in the oven, so don’t expect anything super fleshed-out or consistent if I post anything not related to the above three projects. I have minimal to no plot for these, but I do have some cool designs, backstories, and concepts I might wanna talk about :}

At Least Once (oneshot based off multiple projects)

With all that out of the way, also I love talking about my stuff so please send me any asks you may have about my writing (or anything else if my life is really that interesting to you I guess). You can send asks to my OCs too! I’ll try to have them answer in character, whether you want to pick their brains a little or just tell them something silly. or expose them to the Horrors :}

That’s about it for now. I also have an AO3 with a single fic I haven’t updated in a year and I am not allowing myself to link it until I get my shit together and start updating it again.

~

anyway, what do you call it when the sunrise looks tired and you forgot why you were supposed to like it in the first place

fell in love with the sound of rain and even now tapping my window i fix myself to my bed, covers to my collarbones, huddled, its 9pm and im not ready to wake up yet

clear skies at night with the bright crescent moon and i tell myself i cant look it in the eye because its six in the morning, and id rather sleep, but i guess im doing neither

skipped breakfast because its 4 (, the evening) so is it really breakfast anymore, and i dont eat to feed myself, i eat for taste, and i just dont really care for anything in the fridge right now or ever or maybe tomorrow

think about telling someone about something / something / anything? / a single thing and i dont because im stubborn / noble / stupid / lazy / kind? / lazy. keep to myself hope not to explode wonder if anyone thinks about me on their commute / at work / in class / thinks about reaching out to a friend the way i do and just doesnt the way i do

wonder if i count as a friend wherever i am in their head or if im in their head at all wonder if it would be a mercy to pluck out memories of me and flick them away instead

headache with a side of no painkillers and staring at the computer screen (watching a mind-numbing video ill forget about within the hour) until im too nauseous to think right because ive sucked it up before, i can do it again and so why bother stopping even if it hurts and god forbid i

take care of myself.

i mean whos keeping track anyway, im still alive,

arent i

?

i,

~

I am often disappointed by my own standards, and there is only one thing I’ve found I can tell myself that always works to lessen it.

I always ask myself to find, had I the option to turn back time and erase this whole day from my life, something I'm glad to have done today that would make me hesitate to do so.

It doesn’t have to be an important thing. It doesn’t have to be an enjoyable one. Hell, it doesn’t even have to make the rest of the day worth happening at all.

~

My breathing feels fake. Not fake. It’s real. It’s forced. There is nothing that comes naturally about it. Mechanical. Instructed.

As you do, I suppose.

~

~

Just the same thing again.

I’m regressing.

And my emotions are a thin broth, undernourishing and tasteless.

~

It’s a lot easier to be good at playing the piano,

and for you to care about being good at playing the piano,

when pressing the keys doesn’t hurt you.

~

I ruin everything.

But everything is all temporary anyway.

I would give your kingdom for a silent night, my love for cheap assurance,

Pay priceless gifts for frivolous junk, every time I have the chance,

I don’t value the love of others.

I just let it rot, and then burn, and then I choke on the smoke.

It feels warm.

It feels like sin.

I’d dip my hands in blood just because I like the hue.

Is it wrong, then, to spurn a faithless killer like me?

Because I won’t bury your body, you know.

~

I always feel the shittiest the moment right after everything’s over and done

The calm after the storm

It’s easier to keep going when the adrenaline is pumping and tunnel vision is the only way to make it through

And now I sit down and I have time to wonder if things could have gone differently.

There is blood, on my hands.

And I’m not sure where it came from,

~

I said something bad happened.

But the pain never touched me, did it. Not as a direct target.

Just a mere drop of an ocean splashed onto my cheekbones, while others are drowning.

So sure. Maybe something bad happened and I was there to get caught in the collateral.

~

I drew a line in the sand once, just to see if she’d cross it.

And you know what? She did. I led her over it and she didn’t even look down once.

At the time, I said that was that, and that I’d fight tooth and nail to keep her outside my built bounds, now and for forever.

But then I realised something: I don’t know why she just kept walking.

Maybe her eyes were full of sand and she couldn’t see anything at all, through the tears and stinging grit. God knows I’ve been there myself.

~

It was a clear night.

Most nights were, at this time of year. Out on the water, there were hardly any lights to bounce across the churning waves, so the blackness settled over the deck of the ship with little opposition. Morr stood alone, accompanied only by the measured rocking of the ground beneath her, and the slow slosh of brine. Apparently the stars were visible tonight. The sky was just black to her, though, as it generally was. But that was fine. Their light wasn’t to guide her, after all; she wasn’t the one in need of it. 

A click and a clomp echoed from behind her. She didn’t mean to scowl at the sound of it, and the look on her face might give the wrong impression. So she didn’t bother turning.

I didn’t know you were here, Urkis tapped out on the railing. Isn’t it boring at night?

“It’s peaceful.” A little thrum of disuse made its home in Morr’s voice. It probably would’ve been rude not to say anything. Urkis ignored her anyway, drawing a finger along the length of the railing. Morr had to force herself not to grab her arm to stop her.

The tremors stopped, her fingertip lightly fluttering to a standstill before resuming motion with a new sense of purpose. Morr? She didn’t bother responding. It was just her name.

Familiar with her quirks, Urkis carried on, unfettered. Do you think there are other… The scratching motion resumed, a sentence forgetting its own parts. Us? Out there?

Morr huffed. “Unfortunate castoffs? Explorers? Dissidents?”

No, not those. Morr could almost see the outline of Urkis’s head twitch in frustration. Other… worlds? Places like here?

“Universes,” Morr finished.

Yes. Those.

The wind was starting to pick up, now, the whistling brushing over the fur on her ankles. Urkis shivered, Morr did not. She tapped one hoof on the chilled deck. “Why?”

Well, if there are… Urkis curled her fingers over the railing, gripping it firmly enough to send a light muscular twang of feedback where Morr rested her own forehoof. She continued, white-knuckled, tapping out words with a thumb instead. Do you think there’s a… world… where we love each other?

~

“Um. Hey.” Tessie awkwardly tried to lower herself to the ground, falling the last third of the way down when it ended up being a bit farther than she’d expected. “Tess, be careful,” Allie scolded. She tucked her knife back into its sheath, setting her sharpening stone on the concrete stair next to her, and pulled Tessie into a more traditional sitting position. “Are you okay?” “Dude I’m fine.” Tessie waved her off. “Don’t lose your shit. Relax a little.” Allie slowly shifted her legs in front of her, into a perfectly cross-legged position. She traced over the tendons in the back of her hand before grasping her own knuckles. Squeezing hard enough to pale the flesh underneath, as though she could staunch the flow of words with it. It didn’t quite work. “You make it very hard sometimes,” she whispered, more to herself than the world.

Tessie flinched. “I know.” Her voice was, if possible, quieter than Allie’s own.

Regret immediately filled the space where those words had sat in her chest. Allie reached for her disproportionally large hand, only for it to be jerked away moments before contact. They both settled for just holding their own wrists.

Tessie inhaled shakily, breath hitching before the motion could complete. Her next attempt was somewhat better. “A-Allie?”

Allie dug her nails in. “Yeah, Tess?” “I know I haven’t been a very good sister.” God, her voice was so small, like she could just melt away into nothing. Dissolve into a sea of soupy blood, a coagulated aggregation of unfortunate souls. Like a piece of it was taken with the rest of her body, too.

“It’s okay.” Allie sniffled, Tessie’s features swimming in salt and sin. “You didn’t… I know you did it for me, it’s just…” 

Her forearms were stinging, now. Tessie gently reached over and pried her nails free, releasing a sob from deep in Allie’s core. “I know. I’m sorry.” “I-I’m the one who… I should’ve been there for you.” Allie shoved her face in her hands, shuddering. Tessie wrapped her unfamiliar arms around her, rubbing circles into her back. She let her. If she didn’t look, if she kept her face covered, Allie could almost pretend it was just a stranger, that the person behind her didn’t have her sister’s eyes. And she wanted to. But she didn’t.

“Allie?” The illusion wasn’t there, so it didn’t shatter like a pane of glass at the sound of her voice. “Do you, um… do you think there’s other ways this could’ve happened? Like, other universes?” Allie choked on her own laughter, before it devolved into something harder to place. “What kind of question is that?” “I’m just asking.” She could hear something that wasn’t exactly a smile in Tessie’s voice. “I’m just asking if… maybe, do you think…” She took a breath. It was longer than it should have been, and Allie was almost used to it. “Do you think there’s a universe out there where there’s no bullshit, and nothing bad happens to us, and we just love each other like sisters?”

~

“We should probably… talk about this.” Mia sipped her tea, now cold. She was more of a coffee person, really, but she figured she could more than use a break from the stuff for a bit. She set the mug back down on the low table, ignoring the dark ring of condensation seeping into the light wood. Its contents rippled out in a vaguely circular shape. She blinked. “I just don’t know where to start.” Nerves tensing, she glanced back at where Ash was sprawled out on the rough carpeted floor. She stretched, twisting her whole spine segment by segment as each of her numerous limbs extended and popped their joints. Concluded the motion with her featureless face cocking curiously in Mia’s direction. Passing the baton back to her.

Mia just sighed. “For starters, I’m sorry. For…” The tea almost splashed her in the face as she went for another sip, and she flinched, grimacing, before shoving the coaster towards the other end of the table and setting the mug there to stay instead. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Ash shook her head as she wandered over to the Scramble set currently acting as the world’s shittiest AAC device. Mia gave her a moment to dig through the letter tiles, tossing most of them aside as though they’d personally insulted her, and slotting the remaining few neatly into place. When she was done, she flipped around and tapped a simultaneously simple and inconceivable message. NOT YOUR FAULT.

Mia shook her own head, now. “It really is. I just left you there. Twice, now.” Ash swiped away the message with enough force to send a couple tiles across the room. As one careened into Mia’s dangling foot, she leaned down to pick it up before flicking it back in her direction, though Ash failed to notice as she started spilling more pieces onto the floor. She tried not to interrupt whenever Ash was trying to get her words in, but her thoughts just slipped out without her permission. “I’m trying to be better.”

Ash scraped a needle into the floor, maybe hard enough to leave a scratch. Hopefully Bosco wouldn’t still care about property damage or security deposits given recent global phenomena. Words slid in to cover the mark anyway. YOU NEEDED HELP TOO.

Mia rested her chin in her hand, though her body had to twist awkwardly away from the table to keep her eyes on Ash. “I guess so. It’s just shit all over.” She snorted humourlessly. “God, and I thought we had something good too.” IM SORRY. Ash was already ready before the words were even out of her mouth.

Mia’s eyes flicked away, all semblance of contentment fading instantly. “Don’t be sorry. It’s just… it’s all just too much. It’s no one’s fault.” She tried to make eye contact with Ash, or at least look wherever her eyes would have been. She wasn’t sure if Ash could even tell she was trying, really. “I just miss what we had. It could’ve worked. But please don’t be sorry about it.”

Ash rolled her knuckles across the floorboards, making rapid metallic little taps at every moment of contact. Poked a needle into a tile and dragged it aimlessly around until it got caught in a rut between the boards, hitching and yanking itself free of her. After a pause, she started collecting pieces, so slowly that Mia almost thought she was just packing them away, before squinting down at the unfinished message. THERE OTHER UNIVERSES7. No, maybe the 7 was a question mark. THERE OTHER UNIVERSES?

Mia rolled her eyes. “You’re asking me?” At the sight of Ash nodding so eagerly, Mia cracked a smile and relented. “Sure then. Why not.”

Already having plotted her plan of attack, Ash filled in the blanks of her next half-constructed message. ANOTHER UNIVERSE. WE <3. ALL OKAY. IT WORKS OUT?

~

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. God, I–” Mora broke down sobbing again, face buried in her hands. She curled up in her corner, refusing all comfort but that of the bare concrete. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.” Aika was tempted to reach for her, but she knew better than to touch her after one of her episodes. She settled for conjuring up a notebook with a plain orange pencil, jotting down her thoughts in a way she’d never find quite satisfactory. She tore a page free and pushed it towards Mora, and to her relief, she lowered one hand to read it. I forgive you. “But you shouldn’t.” Mora closed herself off once more. “You shouldn’t. This is all my fault. All of it. And it’s… it’s too late to fix any of it.” Aika shook her head, though she knew Mora wasn’t really looking. Etching out more words with more purpose, and Mora received them in a very similar fashion. You know now. You’re doing something. That counts.

Mora sniffled. “I’m beyond help, Aika. I’ve been beyond help since before you met me.” Aika’s brows furrowed, moisture pooling in her own eyes. She wiped it away before it could drip onto the paper, although she wasn’t sure water damage was a thing at all in the simulation. Everyone speaks so highly of you. Even the newer denizens, like me. You’ve tried everything you could have to help us. You can still do this.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” Mora flipped around, curling in on herself. Facing Aika, but still shielding herself from the sight of her. “I’m selfish. I’ve always been selfish. I don’t… I don’t know how to be that person anymore.” You can still be a good person. Aika tried to meet her eyes, but found Mora too evasive. She settled for watching them scan over her words. Passing it off as an afterthought, she slid another over before Mora was even done reading. You just wanted to live. It’s not fair to place the burden of eternity on you.

Mora let the second note fall out of her hands. “It’s not fair for the rest of you, either. It’s just us all… blaming each other all the time.” She collapsed onto the floor, laying sideways, wrists tucked in against her chest. “I just wish I could go back and make things okay again. I wish one mistake wouldn’t just ruin everything forever.”

Musing, Aika was hit with a sudden spark of inspiration. Mora’s brows furrowed as she tried to read the page she was hit with, apparently a total non-sequitur. Mora, do you think there are other realities out there? Maybe other simulations?

The paper crumpled slightly in her grip. “I sure as hell hope not. But maybe.”

Already having started her follow-up message, Aika wrote out the last few words before giving Mora the rest of the question. Do you think that if there are, then there’s one where we all get along, and everything’s okay, and we’re all happy forever?

~

“Emma, I–” “Just hang on a minute.” Emma threw open another drawer in the ancient dresser, seemingly at random, throwing a couple random knickknacks around the dank cabin before slamming it shut with the barest modicum of restraint. “I just need to check… shit, wait.”

“Emma–” “Just wait, Ashton. God I need to check the doors too–”

“Emma.”

Emma finally snapped up, blinking twice, and let her eyes meet Ashton’s for what felt like the first time that entire night. One of her hands jerked slightly downwards, as though it was done whatever it was doing but still not quite convinced of that. The other remained up, trembling gently, outstretched vaguely towards the trashed workspace. 

Something about Ashton’s grimace burned itself into her retinas. Hooked into her sockets and held them in place, there. Emma’s finger twitched. “Wh– What?”

“Emma, just… ugh, I can’t say relax.” Ashton smiled. Her teeth could shatter at any moment. “It’ll be okay, Em. You said it’s safe here, right?” “Well it should be.” Emma shook her head, eyes starting to wander fervently. “It’s been safe. I don’t know. Things change across loops. I don’t want to–” “Emma, please.” Ashton’s smile was shaky too, now, and maybe it was too much to ask but god Emma just needed her to keep it together. It was too much to ask. It was disgusting of her to even think of such a demand. But thankfully, Ashton took a deep breath, pushed it out, and the smile held. “We made it here. So we’re fine for now. That’s what you said, right?” Emma’s hand fiddled with her sleeve. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re fine. It’s fine.” She tried for a deep breath of her own. In, out. Her breath hitched. Still unsteady. Vaguely, she felt something dig into her forearm.

“Hey, none of that, Ems.” A cool hand wrapped around her fingers, forcing her nails out of her skin. She looked down. A faint crimson had bloomed under her fingernails, dwarfed by the coat of blood on Ashton’s palm. Her blood. Ashton gasped as Emma crushed her in an embrace, stumbling back just one step towards the far wall of the cabin. Her foot shuffled back to steady both of them, and Emma corrected herself, clutching Ashton close to her and bearing her weight on her frame. 

Ashton laughed – or maybe sobbed? – wetly. “I thought you said you’ve saved me in other loops before.” “I did,” Emma choked out. Her grip tightened. “It doesn’t get easier. Seeing you… die isn’t something I can get used to, Ashton.” Ashton sniffled, then began to shudder as she began falling apart completely. Now returning the embrace, tethering herself to her wonderful, amazing, stupidly kind… whatever they were, for dear life. “I’m sorry. God, Emma, I’m sorry, I–” “Don’t you dare apologize.” Emma shook her head. “Please don’t blame yourself.” “But it’s all my fault, this wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t run away like a stupid fucking–” “I said don’t.” Emma let Ashton shift her weight back onto her own feet, and pulled away just enough to see her tear-laden eyes. “Ashton, it would be ridiculous to blame you for all this. I’m not mad anymore. I don’t care about any of that anymore.” More tears welled up, trickling down Ashton’s face as her mouth began to screw up in shame. “You’re too good for me, Ems. I don’t deserve you. You don’t deserve this.” Emma shook her head ever so gently, letting her eyes rove over the other girl’s face, committing each detail to memory. “You don’t deserve it either.”

Ashton collapsed back into Emma, burying her face into her chest. The dampness began to seep into her shirt, and Emma steadied her, running one hand through her tangled, filthy hair. Between the muffling of her clothing and the sobs racking her body, Ashton was nearly, though not quite, incomprehensible. “I’m so stupid. It’s going to happen fucking over and over and over again and I just want to take it all back. I should be the one who remembers. Why are you the one who has to remember?”

“It’s my fault too,” Emma said, running a thumb across Ashton’s cheek. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, in the hospital. I should’ve known.” Ashton smiles, as though baring fangs, and holds Emma’s hand there against her face. “It’s so fucking stupid that we figure this all out and we can’t even do anything about it.” Emma feels her mouth curve in a rare smile of her own, and she feels something in her soul break in order to do it. “Yeah.” “Um, Emma?” Ashton looks up at her, trying to blink the rest of her tears out of her lashes. “Yes?” Ashton’s eyes slip away, just for a moment, before mustering the courage to keep themselves steady, but not enough to keep her voice from cracking. “Out of all the multiverses, or whatever, but like… outside the loops. Um, I don’t really know how it works. But out of all of them, do you think that at some point, we learned our lesson and… and things got better?”

~

“Rhaio?” “Hm?” Still grinning, Rhaio tore her gaze away from the star-speckled sky, and looked over her shoulder at where Sikril lay down on the soft meadow grass right next to her. “What’s on your mind, Sikril?”

Sikril fiddled with the stalk of an unknown wildflower, pinching it in her fingertips, but not tearing it from the soil. “Um, you know about the other places, correct? The ones that came before?” “I do, yes.” Rhaio neatly propped herself up on her hands and crossed her legs, leaning down slightly towards Sikril. “I’ve been told a bit about it.” “Right.” Sikril let the wildflower go, and, much less gracefully, tucked a hand under her rear to heft herself up. She didn’t bother matching Rhaio’s position, rather opting to keep her legs folded underneath her, and craned her neck down to offset their natural height difference. “I was wondering something about that. It’s a little bit of a… difficult question, however.” “Ask away.” Rhaio folded her hands in her lap, her radiant grin only widening.

“Well,” Sikril said. “I wanted to ask if, somewhere, sometime, you think you might have loved me back.” “Hmm.” Rhaio’s brows furrowed, and her expression turned from joyous to pensive, yet didn’t lose that inviting quality that her smile brought everywhere. Eventually, she nodded. 

“Yes. I think so.”

Sikril frowned. “Why do you say that?” Rhaio turned back to face Sikril and her smile came back in an instant. Not the blindingly bright one that made itself so comfortable on her face, the one that first came to mind when one pulled a memory of her from their mind. Rather it was muted, somehow, the same way the thrill that struck Sikril’s heart when she took hold of her hand in her own was muted. But it felt real. And real was hard to come by, and not something Sikril took for granted. 

~ Is it bad that I’m happy to learn that my family was a little fucked up growing up?

Because then, maybe that’s the reason I’m a little fucked up myself.

Maybe the reason I broke is just because someone dropped me. Not because I was built too thin and brittle in the first place.