hush now.

Welcome to my multifandom multimuse. This blog is selective & private.

***Please check my rules page and muses page to see all updates on this blog. About pages are under construction.

a study in • pathetic men doing pathetic men things, rizzlessness, unforgettable cringe, & the sapphics winning.

Current Activity Level: sporadic. Current Main Muse: Neito Monoma; Kikoru Shinomiya; Chifuyu Matsuno Blogroll: Hazbin Multi; Live Action Multi

It's been, what, somewhere around 8 years now? I lost track because I was having too much fun every minute we get to enjoy together. You have always been someone who inspires me on dash, and that's been true since day 1 on my Dazai blog. Still true today, too 😊

I cherish all our memes, the time we spend in calls, and the hours of gaming together. You are a very important person in my life, and I hope you know how much I appreciate you. Always having someone to share in brainrot and creative hobbies; always knowing you will be there to support me. You're a gift to all of us, Kui. So I hope your birthday is full of good vibes and gifts as well!

Sincerely,

feathers

Not the kind of feathers meant for flying, but for wrapping others in warmth when the cold finds them first. Your body bristles with the pale down of an angel, soft enough to soothe a storm. They come to you with trembling hands and hollow bellies, and you let them tear pieces from your shoulders, pluck warmth from your spine, until blood beads like rubies along your ribs, and still—still—you offer more. You were taught love is giving without end. But no one warned you what it would cost to be consumed. You’re so used to shivering, you’ve forgotten you were once whole. You should be furious. You should let the frost take them for once. You should say no. But the word lodges in your throat like a broken wing. And still, you reach out— because their comfort has always mattered more than your survival.

faith

Not the kind spoken in pulpits, not kneeling pews or memorized verses— but the quiet kind, the kind that lives in breath between heartbeats, in unseen fingers that catch you when you fall. They scoff at you, those who trust only what can be proven, who measure strength in metal. But there is a resilience in you that they will never let themselves understand. You rise not because you are unbroken, but because something within you insists that it all means something. Faith is not weakness. It is not blindness. It is standing barefoot in the storm with arms thrown wide— because somewhere in your chest, you know the rain will stop. You read omens in the sway of trees, in the rhythm of rain that murmurs where you should go next. You trust the timing of the moon. You believe the earth stood here waiting for your arrival just as planned. And that belief— that soul-deep certainty— protects you better than armor ever could. Your heartbreak was not meaningless. Your scars are not flaws. They are markings on a map that only you can read. Be proud, faithful one. Others chase proof. You walk with meaning. You are never alone— even when no one else walks beside you.

Till haunted by the kiss...