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Space for doubt

Sometimes i wonder if the others make me feel empty or if I'm the one that makes myself feel this way.

I'm special or I'm just swallowed by the illusion that i am.

I'll never know, for I'm merely the shadow of what i was taught i was as a child.

-Blue L.

(I don't own the picture)

#poem #poetry #original writing #original poem #original quote #anxienty #selfpoetry #sense of self #feeling lost #quotes

anas-fromgaza

Donate to a family from Gaza

And while this is happening while people are buried under rubble, while children freeze in tents, while entire families vanish overnight powerful men sit comfortably and present plans for a “New Gaza.”

Clean slides. Perfect buildings. Investment numbers. A future imagined without the people who are currently being erased.

They talk about peace while bombs are still falling. They talk about rebuilding while destruction is ongoing. They draw maps over land that is soaked with blood and call it hope.

The ceasefire is a lie.

What’s happening is ethnic cleansing, repackaged with the language of development and diplomacy. You cannot build a “new” city by destroying the people who belong to it. You cannot promise a future while actively killing the present.

This isn’t peace. It’s violence with better branding.

Today, three journalists were killed in a single airstrike.

Not soldiers. Not fighters. Journalists. People who believed that if they kept documenting, if they kept filming, if they kept writing, the world would eventually care.

In Gaza, telling the truth has become one of the most dangerous things you can do. Holding a camera is treated like holding a weapon. Every photo risks your life. Every report could be your last.

They had names. Families. People waiting for them to come home. They were not numbers, and they were not mistakes. They were silenced because truth is inconvenient, because images expose what statements try to hide.

When journalists are killed, it’s not just lives that are lost it’s evidence. It’s memory. It’s the last barrier between reality and denial.

…

Donations for GAZA

This donation campaign is for ANAS family. Not for strangers, not for a cause I’m distant from but for the people who raised me, the people I love, the people I’m terrified of losing.

They are in Gaza, trying to survive something no human being should ever have to endure. Constant bombardment, displacement, hunger, fear, and the feeling that tomorrow is never guaranteed. Every day is about staying alive one more night.

If you choose to help, you are not donating to an abstract crisis. You are helping real people with names, memories, and lives that matter to me more than anything.

🔗 This is a verified Chuffed campaign to support family:

Campaign Update

If you can’t donate, please reblog. Visibility is sometimes the only protection we have left.❤️

Some accounts are tagged to help people see this campaign. It’s not spam. If you don’t want to participate, simply scroll.

Yandere Noble x OC village girl

It was the fourth day of October.

People's voices meshed with the creaking rhythm of the old wooden carriages, transporting what the king had promised to the village for the upcoming harsh winter. It was naught but a meagre salvation for what was to come.

The last one had ravaged crops and killed more animals than the village could afford. This year, people would not hunger, however one could only pray for a fair distribution amongst those who had the connections with the royal administrators and those who did not.

Maria wasn't one of the unfortunate ones, but she certainly wasn't pleased over who she had to rely on. It was a filthy deal, all just so that she had enough gruel to last three whole months. It was debt carved in continuous shame rather than coin.

The thought soured her mouth as she pushed past the sea of women, their garments a frayed, dull beige, their steps light against the stony ground. There, among the henchmen in the middle of the wooden podium, stood the devil himself.

His frame vast, his form clad in noble grey. Raven hair caught the sun and gleamed almost brown, though his eyes steel grey and unyielding, were colder than winter itself. Colder than most could ever hope to notice.

He searched for her among the villagers, she could tell. She knew him well enough to recognise when he was being subtle and when he cared not to.

Getting past Maria's attention, a woman dressed in the common silk of the lord's maids, approached her with firmness on her step. The woman lightly touched her shoulder, starting at her and putting a stop to her rumination. Clutched in the maid's fingers was a roll of parchment, bound with a narrow ribbon of deep navy, the color of 'his' house.

Maria's stomach sank.

"Here you are, my lady" the woman whispered, pressing the letter into her hand.

Maria did not hesitate. She tugged the ribbon loose and unrolled the parchment, her eyes narrowing at the sharp, familiar script. Disdain curled in her chest as she read the words she already expected:

'You shall appear before me this fortnight. In my chambers. Where you always fulfil your end of the bargain'

So as it seemed, she could not delay it this month. Maria had hoped he'd be far too exhausted from his visit to the king to care for her. To her distaste, he gave her no time to prepare herself and already seeked her out from the moment he came back to the territory.

Filthy bastard.

Wretched scoundrel.

Those were amongst the many names she had attached to him. But she would never be allowed to utter them freely, no. All she could do was accept his cold touch as he unraveled her body. The indignity of it, letting him touch her, feel her, taste her.... burned inward, a slow, harsh fire that heated every fake, polite smile and silence she practiced.

Sometimes, when her anger became large and so unbearable it swallowed the rest of her, she imagined biting him. Hard, savagely, enough to break skin. Enough to tear off his disgusting mask, until the title and the house and all the privileges that kept him above her, crumbled to dust.

In that private fantasy she was not a compliant, little fucktoy. She had teeth and claws, a voice that would not be smothered by his overbearing presence.

She squeezed her eyes shut, small creases of skin forming slight wrinkles around her eyes due to the pressure. Her feet carried her across the people ridden streets, her movements mechanic and habitual.

At last the familiar path drew her toward her small, weathered house. She let the air out of her lungs slowly.

She decided to take advantage of the time given to her in order to prepare, she had at least that much. Enough to arrange herself, to gather what little courage she had before he summoned her into his arms once more.

****

The melodic sound of the owl, perched upon the old tree next to her house, made her wake up abruptly. It was dark outside, the light of the moon was softly covered by the clouds, the wind pushed aside the leaves that were left on the ground ungathered.

Her happy little garden was her pride. After her brothers left the village to seek a better fortune, perhaps even find a job in the court, Maria used cultivation as her sole remedy. The earth listened more than the people she found fawning over her.

She was lonely.

The people in this filthy village made her lonely.

The grey eyed beast made sure she remained that way.

He despised her gardening hobby. To him, it was 'crude', unbecoming of a woman he 'associated' with, a lady, as he insisted. The memory of his scorn nearly drew laughter from her lips, but Maria knew better than to provoke his temper. If she'd been born into a title equal to his, she would have delighted in dragging him from his lofty perch, breaking his hypocrisy for all to see.

She quickly got rid of her useless thoughts, panic slowly starting to make its appearance, her chest getting heavier as if someone was purposely stepping on it. Time had passed fast, faster than she'd like.

It was time, time for her to visit him in his chambers.

Maria put on her worn corset, placing one of her conservative, black dresses. He didn't know, but those had been saved from her mother for funerals. It was her own private joke and she refused to wear what was gifted to her. Fancy pieces of clothing, made solely so that he could leer at her. Disgusting.

She stepped outside her rocky porch, the wind blowing at her long, curly brown hair. She was supposed to have it gathered like a sensible woman, however he had made it clear that he preferred to be able to freely touch it. So whenever they were to be alone, she had to leave it loose.

The private carriage, adorned with his house's noble symbol, was to arrive soon. Although she wouldn't hate it if it arrived late, if anything she encouraged it.

To her imminent disappointment though, the carriage loomed through the night, its frame made from polished black oak that gleamed faintly beneath torchlight. Iron wheels rolled against the cobblestones, creating a rhythmic sound.

Velvet curtains of deep navy, heavy and lined with silver, concealed the maid who was most likely inside, offering only fleeting hints of movement when the fabric stirred. At each panel, engraved into the dark wood and shining due to the moonlight, rested the crest of his house, a silver emblem, stark and proud, depicting two black serpents coiled around a tall sword. The blade's pointed end, pierced downward, as if staking dominion into the very earth. The serpents, twin guardians or in Maria's opinion, threats, twisted around the sword, their jaws parted and their fangs bared in hostility.

How come was the crest perfectly fitting of the lord? she wondered with a mocking smile threatening to form on her face. He was truly a heinous, horrifying man she prayed a hundred of times to be rid off.

Once it directly stopped in front of her hunched form, she saw the pale arm of the familiar maid waving at her to step inside.

She did. However she was anything but comfortable, luxurious carriage or not.

The maid, sat on the velvet seat across Maria, was staring at her, having on a blank expression, making her pale features appear serene. It was going to be a long ride, so Maria decided to lay her head on the window and stare across the barren land of the territory to pass her time. At moments like this, she wished she was able to sleep anywhere, however sleep evaded her even on her bed these days.

*****

It was hours until they reached the regal residence of the count, the sun was slowly rising, a dark orange form emerging through the snow ridden mountains. This year the winter came faster for the surrounding natural habitat of the province, it hadn't reached the village yet though.

The maid gently shook Maria, touching her shoulders with her cold, weary hand. Maria had managed to get a shut eye for a good half an hour, although it was a rather restless endeavour. Her heart started pounding on her chest, the anxiety she held back throughout the road making its appearance again. It was due time. She genuinely didn't wish to face the snotty noble, however she didn't kid herself to think she had a choice.

She followed the maid throughout the massive grounds of the garden, to the lavish inside of the estate, without any complaints. Those, she saved for later, once the opportunity arised.

It wasn't long before she came across the familiar, ebony door of the devil's domain. The maid offered her a court, little bow, before stepping back, excusing herself. Now she would be alone.

Alone with him.

Maria tried to compose herself, clear her mind before even daring to cup the handle of the door. Once she felt ready, she slowly stepped inside, her walk soundless, as if afraid to disturb the predator inside.

The chamber was darkly lid, the few candles placed on the sleekly painted, wooden desk weren't enough to light the whole room. The count was placed on a tall chair behind the desk, his eyes focused on a neatly gathered batch of parchment, probably something involving his duties over the territory. The atmosphere was imposing, thick with an invisible tension and even though his gaze wasn't on her, his attention was beyond oppressive.

"Have a sit Maria" he said, and to an outsider this may have seemed as nothing less than the politeness of someone of noble blood, however Maria knew better. It wasn't said to make her comfortable, it wasn't even basic courtesy, no. It was an order.

To her annoyance, a sort of vulgar excitement embraced her psyche, burning her chest to her stomach until it reached her loins. It was disturbing how much her body remembered him, already trained to react at his sight.

Groaning as silently as she could, she sat on one of the dark green, luxurious seats, the feather pillows giving in to her weight. Her reaction didn't go unnoticed by the man, making him smirk in amusement.

There was silence for a bit, the crickling sound of the woods burning in the fireplace created a drowsy effect, which in combination with the fruitless and exhausting trip she had, made Maria wish she could actually sleep in peace.

However the baritone of his voice sliced through her again "How was your travel to the estate?" he asked and, oh! how ironic she found his concern.

"As exhausting as usual" Maria replied, her tone clipped. "I was hoping you wouldn't subject me to it this year"

His mouth curved faintly, but not kindly "I had hoped, by now, you'd have found your footing in our arrangement" The long fingers of his graceful hands, suffled through the parchment, pretending to focus on his work.

Her hands tightened in her lap, she coukd feel the anger slowly running through her soul, like liquid poison "Who could ever find their footing in the loss of their freedom? Their dignity? Do you have any idea what the village thinks of me?"

He exhaled as though weary of a child's tantrum. "Maria…the mutterings of peasants about our affairs, are nothing but idle gossip. Why lend them weight? They don't matter"

"Affairs" she repeated bitterly, the warmth of the room along with her intense emotions, making her sweat through her undergarments "You make it sound as if I've chosen this..."

He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepling. "But you did, my dear. You chose survival under my name. It was, in the end, the wisest path available to you"

All hair in her body was raised and her voice hardened at the absurdity of his statement. She craved with all of her being to prove him wrong "You know very well I had no choice. You left me none!" the last part was almost yelled, making her curse internally at the childishness of it. It never did well to lose composure in front of whoever craved dominion over you.

He rose then, not with fury but with slow, deliberate grace, utterly deceitful. The movement was predatory and the room appeared smaller as he crossed it with his tall stature and presence "This is your life now" he murmured, his voice dropping to a silken threat "The sooner you embrace it, the easier it will be for both of us"

He tilted his head, eyes glinting like steel under the candlelight. "You're past the marriageable age. Even if a man was foolish enough to desire you, he wouldn't dare. Not with my claim already staked"

"You are repulsive. That's what you are" she hissed, disgust and lust combined in a messed up windwhirl of emotions. She rose as well, her voice trembling with fury. "Even if no man remained on this earth but you, I'd sooner kill you than let you touch me willingly"

He smiled then, the kind of smile that held no warmth. "And yet… here you stand" He took another step closer. "How fortunate for me that I've already placed you where you belong. Under my roof. Under my-" his gaze traveled over her form like slithering snakes "body".

"It won't be a forever" she shot back

His voice softened, but the softness cut so deep, she could feel her stomach churning in nausea "As long as your brothers thrive under my favour at the borders, you will remain bound to me. And you know this"

Her spine straightened, her eyes mastered a glare she hoped would mirror her feelings "You must think very highly of me if you believe I'll never cease to be the ever sacrificing sister”

He chuckled, low and dark "Oh, I think very highly of you, Maria. That's precisely why I keep you"

(Partly Edited)

Should i continue with this story?

#yandere #original story #original writing #male yandere #yandere x oc #obsessive love #actually obsessive

Blood moon

And the woman wandered

through the endless stone path,

mystical scriptures of characters,

unknown to her glowed red,

carved on the brooding fox statues.

Anger, fear, lust.

Countless expressions,

masks as a reminder of the mortal,

human slights.

Human yet not so much,

for the razor teeth,

conceal they could not,

the beast's blood and nature.

Wandering through human dwellings,

makes the beast no man,

but a creature of deceit.

Invited she was to the feast,

unknowingly she stepped,

into a trap,

solely weaved for her.

Welcome there she was,

on the kitsune's tail to lay,

for a price she couldn't pay.

Lulled to sleep by songs,

sweet like snared birds.

Blue L.

(i don't own the picture)

#poem #poetry #original poem #original writing #kitsune #japanese legends

grendelsmilf

I think the hot new trends for this summer should be reading comprehension and critical thinking skills

bebx

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

Figures of Ink

Living between the people,

spacing

out to new worlds,

scattered pieces of paper,

covering the roads,

and i notice it,

i see what's around the moving crowds of

figures that seem distant,

and loud yet not

heard,

not really part of what's taking place in this

chapter of the tome,

fragile existences,

merely markings of ink,

filling the gaps of a bridge to be stepped on,

as the path opens up to a new cosmos,

only for those that waste away as leftover parts of that same connection.

-Blue L.

#poem #original poem #poetry #original writing #writing #my writing

A car ride

All sound is blurred,

As if i was placed in a bubble,

Away from the world,

Pieces of broken machinery,

stuck on my skin,

Tearing through the flesh.

And i breath.

Heart beats fast,

Pushing on my ribs,

Trying to escape the reality of

The chaos that goes through my

mind,

as i see him.

And i try to breath.

A smile on his face

And a broken goodbye,

Hope in his eyes,

Seeing it's not mine,

But his own demise.

I see no escape,

I feel no hope,

Yet he nodded with his head

at the door.

I couldn't accept,

That i had to move on.

Without him,

My breath is stuck,

on my throat.

i said "no!",

That i won't,

I wouldn't leave,

I would push on until

We got free.

Distanced sirens made their presence

Known.

At that time i knew,

That i had to look at him,

But eyes heavy as they were,

failed me in the end.

I couldn't look beyond,

What laid before me,

as i gave up,

my last fight for consciousness.

And he breathed,

for one last time.

Blue L.

#poem #poetry #original poem #original writing #poems and quotes #sad poem #sad poetry #car crash #trauma

lava-bite

Since the owl house is back, I figured I’d share this hunter themed illustrated poem I made like 100 years ago and then forgot about.

The original idea stemmed from this post, but it’s basically about a recently freed-from-belos Hunter discovering the kindness of Earth rain 🌧

#poem #artists on tumblr #poems and poetry #original poem

thetdump

I think you lost all interest in this world. You were disappointed and discouraged, and lost interest in everything. So you abandoned your physical body. You went to a world apart and you're living a different kind of life there. In a world inside you.

Haruki Murakami,1Q84