#* ch. study.

Macbeth:

the howl of wolves. moonless nights. dirt under fingernails. stained silk. chattering teeth. voices hoarse and cracked. rotting fruit. echoing drums. dry heaving. hanging cobwebs. stifling humidity. bloodshot eyes. the roughness of rusted steel. wild rosebushes. muscle cramps. the sound of splintering wood.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream:

crackling fires. ivy crawling on stone. the faint music of running water. petrichor. dirty, bare feet. tattered clothing. thistledown. wilted wildflower crowns. late evening birdsong. curling leaves. a symphony of croaking frogs. drifting feathers. the eerie sound of windchimes at night. humming bees. beds of clover.

Romeo and Juliet:

warm golden lamplight. worn shoes. crumbling brick walls. whispered poetry. embroidered satin. cool, hazy mornings. tousled hair. rosewater. flushed cheeks. distant orchestras. unfinished marble statues. cobblestone streets. loose threads. ink smudged on parchment. tapping fingers. dust illuminated by sunlight. poison vials.

Hamlet:

shattered glass. a cluster of fraying ribbons. unanswered knocks on doors. lingering dampness. white noise. inexplicable drafts. migraines. bleeding ears. the taste of metal. reflected mirrors. dry, cracked lips. the sound of tearing paper. fogged windows. memories of dreams. tarnished silver. protruding veins.

patron saint of blood; patron saint of the life that flows through our bodies. patron saint of violence. patron saint of love. something that does not watch over but exists within: not for protection but for vitality. there is no passion without a beating heart at its core. when that heart breaks open, someone has to be responsible for what it bleeds.

cauterizing rage; the house has burned around you, and you’re the only one left standing. is it gratifying to be the survivor? fear and anger are weapons in your capable hands, used only to serve your agenda of fighting back when deemed necessary. you're a powerful person, built from the ashes of your despair and your family's mistakes. with time, you'll bloom into someone softer, like the full blossoms that grow each spring and wither away with the leaves in fall. they won't disappear if you take your eyes off of them. you're enough.

01. shadowheart chews their nails when nervous 02. if someone they knew committed a crime, shadowheart would cover for them. 03. shadowheart had an emo phase 04. shadowheart is not allowed to drink energy drinks. 05. shadowheart cannot drive. 06. shadowheart has an incredible short-term memory but an awful long-term memory. 07. shadowheart forgets to eat sometimes. 08. shadowheart desperately needs a hug but doesn't know it and refuses to ask for one. 09. shadowheart is oblivious to any and all romantic interest someone may show them. 10. shadowheart is in your house.

redemption arc; your story had a pretty rough start and you did some things you're not proud of, but you made the choice to change. i won't go through how important it is to accept responsibility and keep striving to improve or whatever because you know that already. what i think you should know is that your fuel does not need to be shame. you don’t need to stand over the bathroom sink with your blood in your hands until you can no longer make out your reflection. you will look at your face and you will see the person you used to be, but that person no longer exists. today, you are looking, and that makes all the difference.

iced over, out of the sun; your heart is very lonely, isn’t it? is your fortress of ice self-made? are others afraid of you, or are you afraid of them? are you afraid of hurting them, or of being hurt? vulnerability and connection can be frightening, but that’s no reason to shy away from their light, to tuck yourself small into corners, to build up frigid walls to keep yourself from feeling. you will heal when you allow yourself to draw closer to the flames and thaw.

vanilla; oh heart of ice and mind of gold, what am i to do with you? you are only good in small amounts, bittersweet fledgling, you are hard for most to swallow. your spirit is strong, your wit is potent, your biting essence drives even the most daring away. but why are you hiding your sweetness? i know within you, you are soft, but humanity has made you bitter. you mask your pain and sorrow with spite and sensibility. you say you do not care about trivial things, but don't you? sweetheart relax. you can let down your drawbridge, the waters are not poisoned. i know you have looked monsters in between the eyes and scoffed at them, but please, relax. you think your armor protects you but it is smothering you slowly. little owlet, when will you learn, words can only get you so far? feelings are what makes this world pulse. do not suppress your feelings. your heart can still thaw my dear. trust.

please, PLEASE want to know me; you keep quite literally everything bottled up, don't you? you try to be there for everyone else, but nobody has ever asked about you. you have a mental list in your head of things that you wish beyond wishing that people would ask to know about you, but nobody has. you're afraid that if you tell them, you won't get the response you crave, which gets more and more mysterious and gut-wrenchingly necessary with every day that goes by in silence. it feels like you aren't allowed to exist.