𝑭𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 𝑶𝑹 𝑭𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 — !

[biteburdened]

#𝑩𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑩𝑼𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑫 !              independent, mutual exclusive blog for kissmedcadly's wednesday verse, penned by jackal (she/they, 32, pst).

𝑴𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑺 : reluctanthyde.

minors and personals , do not interact .

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𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑫 𝑴𝑬: 𝙞𝙢𝙢0𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙘𝙙. 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙙𝙡𝙮. 𝙬𝙡𝙙𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜.

[reluctanthyde]

"you don't," he assures her, guilt beginning to weigh on him as he can visibly see her confidence fade away with every passing second. the laugh was unintentional, involuntary, but now he realizes it was the worst way to react to her. it was out of pure endearment rather than amusement, but even if he explained that to her, she would fail to believe him. all he can do now is consistently reassure her that she does, in fact, look amazing. "c'mon," he says, nodding his head toward the door. "we're going to be late for the party."

[biteburdened]

at least she can't cry about it, the frustrated stinging at the back of her eyes never quite going anywhere. "i don't think i should go anymore." especially not if she can't get this uneasy twisting of her stomach under control, can't will away the not-tears. her shoulders droop. "i don't know," and she's stalling now, searching for the words that won't come. her mood shouldn't ruin the night for the both of them, but she can't quite make herself tell him he should go alone. can't make herself tell him to stay with her either, especially not when she's avoiding his eyes. "—okay. let's just go. before i talk myself out of it entirely."

[childcfwoe]

vic  read  as  someone  who  needed  to  be  regarded  with  the  same  patience  as  a  weathered  tombstone  or  wounded  animal  .  while  sheepish  stature  was  foreign  to  a  storm  cloud  ,  there  was  still  something  familiar  wednesday  found  within  it  .  she  had  long  known  the  burden  of  being  observed  ,  not  with  affection  but  apprehension  .  a  disgust  coating  the  curiosity  .  she  took  a  step  closer  ;  her  own  presence  was  never  loud  but  it  lingered  .  as  fog  does  over  a  graveyard  ,  encroaching  and  faintly  mournful  .

“  invisibility  isn’t  a  virtue  .  ”  soft  as  her  tone  was  ,  it  was  still  edged  with  her  usual  bite  .  “  the  world  is  never  kind  to  those  who  vanish  .  it  devours  them  .  ”  her  gaze  dark  as  she  continued  to  study  vic  the  way  one  might  examine  a  cursed  object  .  all  interest  and  caution  .  “  blending  in  means  forfeiting  authorship  of  your  own  making  .  solace  can  be  found  in  the  shadows  but  you  shouldn’t  become  one  so  quickly  .  who  are  you  hiding  from  ?  ”  

[biteburdened]

there's something to be said for the fact that she doesn't instinctively step back, that she doesn't try to keep that same distance between them. wednesday isn't harmless, that much she knows — but she also doesn't seem cruel, not the way she fears.

"world hasn't really been kind to me anyway." it's a little bit woe is me, but she can't help it; the hand fate has dealt her has hardly left her functioning normally. she swallows hard. the idea of talking about any of this, even in the abstract, is deeply unsettling.

"—i don't know. myself, maybe."

[biteburdened]

[kundalini33-deactivated20260510]

[literaryvein]

L. V., excerpts from a past life

[javarisx-fightingthosedemons]

[12thgrave]

“your trauma doesn’t define you” no actually it does. it dictates every aspect of my shitty life.

[rebelculture]

[skeletonette]

[rebelculture]

[skeletonette]

[literaryvein]

L. V., excerpts from the afterword: after Sylvia's "I am, I am, I am."

[horrorwomensource]

PRACTICAL MAGIC 1998 | dir. Griffin Dunne

[opossum-handz]

[biteburdened]

thinking about how vic sleeps in the fetal position in a subconscious attempt to feel safe. how even still, she rarely sleeps through the full night — she has issues with falling asleep, staying asleep. most of her attempts at sleeping include at least a couple of hours of just staring at the ceiling.

[biteburdened]

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