
@theartofmadeline
Xuebing Du

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oozey mess
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

★
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
noise dept.
wallacepolsom

if i look back, i am lost
$LAYYYTER
Sweet Seals For You, Always
🪼
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One Nice Bug Per Day
YOU ARE THE REASON

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

izzy's playlists!
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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@miseile
envois.
` ahh~….what a mess. ` he thumbs away the blood that splashed onto his cheek from the spray of gore. she’s turned this little corner of the forest into a butcher shop, limbs scattered all around (her own included.) ` you normally don’t have such a grotesque way of doing things. haha, it must have gotten pretty dicey over here, hm ? ` @miseile
how irksome. she turns to face him: she, a snow - white flower stained crimson, dripping beauty in the dappled moonlight. dripping viscera drenched in her poison, her teeming blood. with one hand buried beneath tattered clothing and flesh, and the other resting listlessly by her side, she’s painted a portrait of her carnage. ❛ ... i was testing something. it’s none of your concern. ❜
hello i’m kaina bringing back my beta mikan tsumiki blog, who has some differences from canon mikan but mainly that she’s the ultimate surgeon instead. also i have a kny demon au for her. promo me
anyways hello i am reviving this blog because i love beta mikan so much! first order of business: kny au where she’s a demon
(i present to you my vital organs on a platter) i love you
(i carefully preserve each organ in its pristine quality) as you should.
♗ for mikan !
meme . accepting .
like a girl that gives you a literal heart on valentines day
factition.
@miseile .
❛ tsumiki mikan of the surgery team in the kamukura project . ❜ it’s no question ; merely confirmation of the fact he already knows . most memory of his … development remains a bit fuzzy , but he’s done some digging . and now that he’s out of that room —— no real thanks to enoshima junko , she simply gave him a reason to leave —— he thinks it’d be fitting to ask some questions . kamukura is analytical , insists on obtaining any little knowledge he doesn’t have . his creation is one of those little unknown pieces of information — he’ll almost miss the empty space filled by possibilities , if she chooses to enlighten him . ❛ what can you tell me about the process that created me ? though i find asking for information a bit boring , i prefer it over any lack of knowledge . ❜
oh, how dearly she’s missed this voice! silken, strong, so utterly devoid of emotion — a voice befitting of the body she once sliced open, crammed to the brim with purported “ hope “ , and neatly sewed shut once again. ( is he so empty because there is no longer space for anything else within him? a silly question. she would know, for it’s her own hands that dug deep inside that welling crimson and ripped away anything in the way. ) though what is hidden beneath that cloak of ungodly flesh is where his true beauty lies, she cannot deny how lovely she finds his form, regal with the weight of the unliving; truly befitting of a creation of hers! she desires nothing more than to comply with his words, lay his body bare before his very own eyes, but that would seem too eager, wouldn’t it? ❛ ufufufu, how demanding. that is highly classified information, i’m sure you’re aware — despite being the primary subject, i’m afraid i cannot reveal such a thing so easily, even to you. ❜
hi i love you
AND I LOVE YOU TOO!!!! UR THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE AND MY WHOLE HEART IS YOURS ♥♥♥♥♥♥
—- // WRITER AESTHETICS. BOLD ALL THAT APPLY!
JOHN KEATS. / the lavender in sunsets, flowers in the rain, sunlight slipping through clouds, lazy summer afternoons, the heavy scent of musk, flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books, fireflies on a cool summer night, being wrapped in fresh bedsheets, the ache of wanting what you can never have, dripping sunlight like gold, loving someone so exquisite, soft lips and soft whispers, fingers through hair, names of lovers carved in trees, broken glass, the insistence of being perpetually dreamy
F. SCOTT FITZGERALD. / mahogany wood, crisp winter skies with cold bright stars, the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog, empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room, pale bruised arms reaching out into the darkness, cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of alcohol, a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered, a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day, the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment, your favorite sweater, parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing, the contrast of blood against snow, a purple split lip oozing blood, black eyes fading to blue to pale skin, the butterflies of falling in love for the first time, the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries, the romanticization of self-destruction
FRANZ KAFKA. / the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future, decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there, the way not even light can escape a black hole, the rich smell of old books, delicate veins in the wrist, ghosts filling lungs, shattered bones, raindrops on the tongue, rusting metal, nostalgia that aches, the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head
H.P. LOVECRAFT. / the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave, pouring rain and mud, a child’s fear of the dark, thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never ending ocean, the silence of three a.m., danse macabre by camille saint-saens, playing on a record in an empty house, the possibility of aliens and the weird feeling it gives you that you can’t explain, unexplainable phenomena, strange lights in the sky in the dead of night, ouija boards and urban legends
JACK KEROUAC. / the brisk pine air of being on a mountain, travels without a destination, those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory, screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive, coffee shops late at night, car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark, naps spent in the sun, novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins, the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders, ignoring flaws and loving life, wind through hair, depression as fog in the brain, impossible ideals, a quiet sunrise, walks alone, when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe, dazzling people, open lands stretching out into infinity, falling in love with being alive
EDGAR ALLAN POE. / the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog, hollow bones, a preserved heart held in hands, twinkling stars above an old graveyard, the way everything turns to dust, silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom, self-inflicted flames, perfection depicted as a rotting corpse, death as bricks in the heart, lips barely brushing against each other, glassy glazed eyes, biting into a lemon, heart-shaped bruises, rotting flowers on a grave, dried blood and spilled liquor, the hush of dusk when it begins raining, the intimacy of a secret
tagged by: @soulpercept! ♥♥♥ tagging: i think most people have already done this so whoever wants to!
my hands? ready to be held
observings.
❛ not surprised , you don’t seem like the type to play video games . but , that’s just the vibe you give off , so who knows . ❜ a shrug as fingertips drum on her laptop , then she smiles up at her and turns her attention back towards the screen . ❛ the name’s pretty self explanatory . it’s a simulation of surgery but it’s kinda just a joke game ! it’s supposed to be funny , it’s hard to control too which just adds to it . i mainly got it because it’s pretty cool to use with VR and — uh , well , you probably just care about the surgery aspect i’m guessing , considering that’s why i showed you . ❜
she can’t deny that this... surgeon simulator game, as it is called, piques her interest. difficult to control...? how so? perhaps it may be like practicing to operate on a patient, and the game is attempting to emulate the lack of control that someone may feel when cutting open a body for the first time? but the game is supposed to be a joke, apparently... there’s no use thinking about it so thoroughly when the subject of her curiosities lays right before her, she decides. rather than contemplating how the game may unfold, it would be more efficient to just test it herself. ❛ ... may i give it a try? ❜
a necromancer is just a really late healer
“you’re too late, doc, he’s…he’s already dead…”
*cracks knuckles* i didnt get my medical license revoked for nothing
Text credit @ghoulsuggestions
Graphic @ptsdsuggestions