a lonely, single writer's rambles

He knows. He knows and he worries - his gaze can’t help but fall on the figure of the woman in front of him as she looks up in the starry night sky, her eyes brimming with this self-confidence and determination to reveal the world free from the uncouth surface of lies and defamation. 

Trust me on this, Luke!

The camera she gave as a gift; what could it capture within its glass lens? Would each image only reveal the filth and defilement of a world so corrupt? Or could it speak that mind of hers, the one who has faith in such a place, portraying the beauty the way she perceives it? Memories - the most delicate and precious memories - trapped within a single chip. Journeys, adventures, investigations, detective cases: they were endless with her, and someone with her intellect never disappointed when it came down to finding clues. She truly was his Watson. And he never knew he was going to lose it all. Click after click, shot after shot––

I’m sorry, Luke… I let you down…

He stares outside the window, the rush of the scenery passing by silenced by the slight rumbling of the train and swaying against the track. The chatter of high school students is what he hears - we were once like that. Youthful, happy… Oh my Watson… not a scratch on the lens of the camera he grasps tightly with agitation, nor a tear formed in his eye. 

Why did it have to rain on a day like this? As if the rays of sunshine and warmth hadn’t already been stolen from him. Black umbrellas bloomed and opened like petals of chrysanthemums, providing minimal shelter from the unfavourable weather, dampening the sleeves that carried nothing but melancholy. The droplets of rain battering against the plastic of each umbrella were muffled by thoughts of what should’ve been regret and sorrow. But nothing could be heard; he couldn’t grasp what it was he wanted to say, he couldn’t think of anything but her. She was his childhood friend, his partner in crime, his… everything. The roaring boom of thunder––

His neck snaps up, short of breath, panting, looking straight ahead. That same scene repeats in his head, and just as he is about to clutch her shoulder and pull her away from the barrel pointing at her - his hands grab at thin air. He doesn’t see her anymore. Rather, he’s greeted by the sleek wood of her case, spherical droplets racing down and tracing paths all together once again. Just like how they both did when they collected clues and evidence, putting them all together to come to a conclusion. 

Roses - the thorns cut at him as he squeezes his hands tight. He tosses them in front of him, scattering them on the stone structure that carves the name of the one he holds dear for the rest of the world to see. And he never looks back.

there’s a reason behind everything. a reason behind why i’m alright with you, even if everyone tells me to stay away. a reason behind why being completely intoxicated by your antics makes me feel more loved than anything else. 

if i had met you earlier, i would’ve been afraid. my coward, sheltered self would‘ve known better than to take a bite of your excessively, sickly sweetness. your unconditional love wasn’t something i needed. rather, it was something i would’ve wished to avoid. 

but things change. i’m not the same person i used to be, and i don’t have the same innocent, pure memories of childhood happiness anymore. 

love me. love me, love me, love me. please. 

years would pass with me feeling like an empty shell. a doll for one’s desires. the desires for those i thought loved me and i loved was perfection; unrealistic expectations, endless burdens, unrelenting comparisons. if i didn’t follow their desires, they’d let everything out on me. love grew into hate, and my hard efforts grew into normality. conditional love - it’s now something i can’t bear to exist with. why love me if you’d only love me at my best? thoughts like these floated up to the surface, undulating waves of remorse and complete loathe for myself washing me away until i became no one to anyone.

anyone except you. you rewrote everything for me. you believed that you could change me, with my empty, soulless shell dyed in everything you wanted. you believed in the person i could become. i would exist just for you, and you just for me. if i despised the self constructed right before you came into my life, what was so wrong with your sacchariferous way of making me yours? 

dye me - dye me until you cure me of any irritation i had of the past. dye me until you cure me of any loathe i had for my own existence. dye me until i become a completely different person, so that the one who loves me most would only love me more. dye me, forgive me for any mistake, care for me and only me, love me and intoxicate me. 

i’d let you have complete control over me with your unconditional love if you promise me one thing. 

i really did miss writing for you guys, its definitely been a solid moment since ive written so its probably going to take a while for me to get back into it. but i do hope to publish more pieces soon! thank you for all the new followers and also sorry for not updating for such a long while. 

Hey, hey. Look at me. 

A vicious cycle curbs our relationship. The sensation of the ground on my feet at each step I took gave me this non-existent sense of jurisdiction that the relationship was moving forward, yet what I didn’t know was that each step wavered towards the starting point as if exhorting me to return once more, then leave. But I’d walk in circles. Like the second hand marking each point of a clock. Tick, tock. Again and again.

Push and pull, like undulating waves. Dizzy with affection, passion and love, the two of us were inseparable. If he hurted, I hurted. If he smiled, I smiled. It brimmed with this… perfection, of sorts. This perfect romance that I had been looking for to calm and restrain me, mould me as if I was the faultless puzzle piece in his life. He pulled me along with wherever he went, and soon I would cling to him close, afraid to lose him. 

Shh, you should stop crying. 

Time would pass. It would indeed, but I was too focused on him to feel it rattle in my bones, or pull at my skin. The only sensations I could feel was my own nauseousness and how I trembled in despondency at each moment his body wasn’t by my side, enveloping me with his warmth. Pushing everyone away, letting this iciness pierce and numb me, turning me completely white. A blank canvas - eventually I’d stare with big eyes, so lifeless and still. Just waiting. 

And when he came back, I would always fail to see how his skin had already been painted a beautiful blood-red, hands quivering with overflowing delirium. I always thought it was because of me. How he missed my voice like I missed his, and how he seeked my body like how I seeked him. Thus with open arms I welcomed him, and he’d brush that same hue of scarlet on his skin on mine, locking me from within as I gasped for breaths. Plucking each of my white petals away, then giving me a coloured bouquet which could last forever without care. 

I don’t like it when you cry.

It wasn’t the first time, and everyone but me knew it wouldn’t be the last. His chiseled body, the fabric crumpling with shadows that failed to conceal his face, his lips curled up into a smile of adoration he’d use on me, and those eyes he denied me to see lingering on the one he embraced. Someone other than me. And he’d tell me it was all a misunderstanding, cooing words of sickly sweet that brought me right back to where we all started. 

So they say our relationship is weird. Why not keep it that way? Don’t care about what others think.

Others tell me he’s playing a game; he’d push me to my limits, seeing how far I’d go for a man like him. But I’d tell myself they wouldn’t understand - our love is of two fools, in constant trust and reliance on each other. We complete each other, better when the other is there.

meet my bnha oc~!! actually i’ve had the idea for her quirk for the longest time, forgot about it, then dreamt about it one day and memories of her resurfaced. i finally got the courage to draw her!! 

more info below:

happy birthday @yuikishirohana !!! here’s a smol gojo fic >.< hope u enjoy it hehe

Within the abandoned building, you could feel that the brittle concrete was going to give way anytime soon. But you did not move. Nestled in a single corner of a room barely lit by a single ray of sunlight seeping through the cracks, echoes of the relentless croaking and shrills of despair rung in your ear. Everything in your body told you to run, to book it and just hope that they wouldn’t catch you. Yet there you sat, quivering within the expanse of your own fears, paralysed. 

“So you can see them.” Like a tangible ray of hope, the moonlight illuminated the locks of his alabaster-coloured hair as it gently swayed in the breeze that you hadn’t noticed amidst your agitation. The man stood in the middle of it all, nose held up high despite the disturbing creatures crowding around him. You didn’t know why, but there was this sudden relief that washed through you as your gaze lingered on his figure, something bubbling within telling you that if you stripped your gaze away from him for just a moment, you’d return to your pathetic shrivelling self, overwhelmed by your solitude and uneasiness. “Unsightly, aren’t they?”

“So you can see them too.” The words slipped out of your mouth, barely a mere whisper. Your words were no louder than the repetitive throaty screams of those unknown creatures, and yet, you knew he brought his attention to your mutterings from the slight grin that lifted up the corners of his thin lips. 

“Of course~ I’m the most powerful sorcerer after all.”

“Sorcerer…?” Mumbling under your breath, you observed how he leisurely raised his hand up in the air. He did not cower. He did not seem to mind his surroundings. He was... absurd, to say the least. He called himself the most powerful sorcerer and walked into this battlefield of sorts that caused you great discomfort whilst wearing a blindfold… to call him ‘unique’ was an understatement. Questions ran through your mind. Why was he so confident? Was he like you, able to see these creatures that had been denied by everyone else you encountered? Who was he exactly? Despite the emergence of your erratic curiosity caused by this man, he looked like the calm in the tempest you were trapped in. 

All it took was an effortless swipe of his hand. In a blink of an eye, the once-persistent abnormalities had vanished, leaving you stuck in the small corner lost for words. They’re gone… they’re gone. Chanting, a futile attempt of processing what had just occurred. The sight of a hand entered your vision, and you looked up to see the very man that saved you.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @the-voltage-diaries hehehehehe~!! thanks so much for being such a magnificent bully friend and always helping me when im in tough times <33 even when the time is not tough, spending time with you is honestly the best !! as much as you bully tease me on a daily basis, i wouldnt have it any other way and im so glad we met.

in honour of the amaaaaaaaaazing bday of the amaaaaaaazing zela (and i know ur gonna go ew emoshuns), i made a fanmade taki game >.< although it is kinda suited to zela’s tastes because its her game, if you want to check it out, here’s the link:

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1cMFMT1OCTDxvi5WFNauWYN1IVxNuwY4X?usp=sharing

pretty self explanatory! download the pc one if you have windows or a pc, and download the mac one if you have an apple device :> double click on the application to open and you can start playing !!

my headcanon of where each demon brother’s pact would show on your body if they were visible pacts

lucifer - avatar of pride // back of hand lucifer is the avatar of pride and is also the eldest + most powerful out of the demon brothers, so i like to think that his pact would be on the back of your hand as if he is there to guide you. plus he does a lot of paper work, and a whole ton of writing, so a hand seems appropriate. 

out of affection, he’d probably gently hold the fingertips of your hand and examine the back of it, before kissing it like the gentleman he is. then he’ll look up at you and smirk in his lucifer fashion because thats just the man he is. i mean demon-

mammon - avatar of greed // nape mammon boasts about how he’s your first. A LOT. i just feel like if you’re gonna have a pact for the first time in your life, it’d be on your nape since thats not really out of place. not only that, but the nape is a really delicate place, much like mammon is - although he hides it a lot, i think mammon is someone that is rather fragile inside, especially with how much his brothers talk about him.

i think he’ll like it at your nape. initially, when everyone made fun of him for how you had a pact with him so easily, when your hair was down it was easily hidden. but now, whenever someone is talking bad about you, and then you tie up your hair and they get scared of his pact with you - he feels pretty damn proud. 

leviathan - avatar of envy // underneath collarbones  jealousy starts at the heart, and then it branches out. leviathan, being the avatar of envy as well as someone who is very introverted, would have his pact somewhere near your heart. i dont think it’d be directly on top of your heart because thats a pretty awkward position for a pact to be. collarbones are also known as the beauty bone, so by placing it between the heart and the collarbones, i felt like it fit with the image of leviathan perfectly.

not going to lie, i think placing it below the collarbones is pretty flirty flirty, especially for an otaku like leviathan. maybe you’re wearing his shirt which is wayyy too loose on you, and as the fabric droops casually on your body, and he takes a glance - this demon will be a BLUSHING mess.

satan - avatar of wrath // lower back  “anger rises up”/“rose up in anger” or something like that; people say that quite often, and thus i wanted to follow the flow and direction of that anger and wrath. satan himself is also confident and filled with factual information - he has a strong foundation within himself, so placing his pact somewhere near the human center of mass kinda made some sense to me. 

satan might be a bit mad; compared to his elder brothers, this pact is rather hard to see clearly, unless you’re wearing something a bit revealing. but its a mark in a rather scandalous place where no one can see it but him when the two of you are alone, or when someone tries to see it and they realise that they have fucked up pretty bad because now the avatar of wrath will be after their asses. so yeah, he likes it. 

asmodeus - avatar of lust // lower abdomen i think a lot of people would’ve thought that anywhere near the stomach, like the abdomen, would probably be where beel’s pact is. but nope, this area is occupied by asmodeus’ pact. for one, its relatively close to a region, him being the avatar of lust and all, but also good, healthy food = good skin. that pact better be getting well fed, for it can contribute to a beauty like you ;) 

much like satan’s, this pact is also in a rather scandalous place. but asmodeus, being the flirty and happy-go-lucky demon he is, i think he’d like you to flaunt it everywhere you go. he’d even buy clothes from majolish just for you to wear and show your pact to everyone else. but you can decline and he’d still be alright because after all, he likes to sneak glances at his pact without you knowing. 

beelzebub - avatar of gluttony // left shoulder blade i put the twins as the shoulder blades because you cant ever separate them, they must always come as a pair~! additionally, beelzebub is pretty buff, and he’s got some broad shoulders. he’d want to be your strength, like the sweet demon beelzebub is. i think that your strength doesnt only come from your muscles, it flows through your whole structure - the shoulder blades are super important !!

when the two of you are exercising together, he’ll definitely eye the way your back muscles contract and make the pact even more clearly visible. then he’ll grin at himself quietly, without you knowing how much he was admiring the pact.

belphegor - avatar of sloth // right shoulder blade belphegor’s pact would balance well with beelzebub’s pact - much like how after a good meal comes a good sleep, after you glance at the left shoulder blade you glance at the right shoulder blade. if that makes sense...? belphegor and his sheer power, being the youngest of the demon brothers as well as the most tired, i believe deserves a lot more spotlight. this demon is pretty darn strong. so adding onto my whole shoulder-blade-structure-strength idea from beelzebub’s i think the other shoulder blade fits pretty well :)

whenever the coach says “my wife says that a lot”, you know that the quote is good. whether or not he actually has a wife tho... im starting to suspect that he doesnt LMAO and he just says that his wife says that a lot because he was pretty negative in the past? and he’s hinting that his wife has changed him instead of something that impacted him heavily in life which he doesnt want to reveal?? holy shit i could be soooooo wrong right now. 

me, jamming to you're sexy i'm sexy by eric nam: we all need somebody and mine's right here for you~

sukuna: a body...

sukuna: *stuffs a finger down throat*

Ryomen Sukuna.

The name that everyone feared resonated deeply within you. There was something about it, about him, that you couldn’t quite shake off. As if your supposed fear of such a powerful curse had been replaced by a strong desire. A connection that made you curious, a desperation to delve deep in his world of curses overtaking what was meant to be trepidation. 

Curiosity kills the cat.

Itadori Yuuji - a classmate, and a friend. But most importantly, Sukuna’s vessel - the King of Curses was dangerous, and an Itadori had unknowingly put himself in jeopardy and came to terms with such a powerful being. It’s not that you thought less of him, he truly was someone dear. But someone like him wouldn’t be safe for you to keep around closely. Should anything happen to him… regret and blame would take you by a landslide. You would crumble beneath the burden, understanding that he was another life that was lost due to your own incompetence. And yet, you knew that death lingered around, awaiting the day of his execution.

They say we’re the center of our worlds. That we’re a single dot in our own universe, surrounded by everything else.

So why is your center him? 

Surrender. 

It’s a fleeting moment when you’re inside his domain. His presence is enough to completely engulf you, and you find yourself drowning. Drowning in need. Drowning in interest. Once again, you’re in his sickly-sweet trap. In a place so bright, filled with meaningless optimism, he’s the darkness that you seek. A sense of belonging, or being connected limb by limb by red string... the puzzle pieces fit together well and you feel too safe that it puts you on edge. Safety? With him?

Apologise.

The image of Itadori’s pale skin, the appalling stillness of his figure as he lay on the metal table. It flashes through your mind once again, and you can feel your knees buckling while the tip of your fingers tremble. You can’t swallow this regret.

This is your fault.

There is something you can do. Maybe. The lack of certainty in your mind makes you doubt, and so you retrace your steps. There is no longer a desire to move forward in a path that seems so barren. However, something seems to call out to you. It attracts you, hypnotises you. You’re propelled forward with overwhelming ease, like a puppet moved by a puppeteer. The solution lies in your hands, and you stare at its odd hue - it should scare you away. It scares everyone else away, and brings curses to life. Yet there is this sense of determination inside… not determination. Rather, it’s desperation. A desperation to know. A desperation to set things right. 

A desperation to save lives.

And so you swallow it.