？..‎ those‎ who‎ Ⱥ𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞﹐

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞.

[peggies]

#𝙋𝙀𝙂𝙂𝙄𝙀𝙎: selective multimuse blog, refurb october 2023. written by mo ( she+her / black / 24 / est. / orlando ) THE ROSTER / CONDUCT. | MOBILE MUSE LIST UNDER THE CUT.

Visit Original Link

[ .. ] mobile friendly muse list. full doc here ,

semi-active multimuse writing blog featuring characters across various media. this blog is intended for mature audiences, including violence, language, biblical references and other sensitive subjects. note that it will almost entirely go untagged.

note that a lot of my muses use different face claims and/or have personal interpretations. that being said, everything here is original, no copying bc thats not cool. there's no tolerance for bullying, drama, homophobia, racism, or any other nasty behavior. i speak out against hate but avoid drama on this blog, any action on my part is taken privately.

❛ apocalyptic muses: written exclusively for apocalyptic universes.

daryl dixon

michonne

flip donovan (oc info)

john seed

faith seed

jacob seed

joel miller

ellie williams

lee everett

❛ crime muses: for intelligence, gangs and other organized crime.

franklin clinton

michael de santa

frank castle

bigby wolfe

james bond

arthur morgan

john doe (info)

bruce wayne (info)

poison ivy

harley quinn

❛ test muses: muses that are under construction.

beth greene

steve rogers

loki laufeyson

rosita esponosa

peter parker

regina george

[peggies]

oh right this blog exists. blame sela.

[peggies]

⃰ prompt ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗⁱⁿᵍ ? @outrdark : 89﹕ sender yells at receiver to put their hands in the air.

i. .. the air doesn't break at her shout, but tightens instead. –— there's something of a sinew-drawn stillness tied taunt between these two trembling points of will. SOMEWHERE IN THE TREES, EVEN A BIRD FORGETS TO SING. he turns then, like a dial calibrating thread, like a decades dusted instrument. the barrel lowers first. not in defeat, not in compliance, but perhaps simply . . . courtesy. indulgence. then obeys, his hands following. a performance pared down to nothing more than muscle memory and disciplines. palms half open, empty. there is no urgency in him. no rattle nor fear. just lethal amusements humming under charred skins, the kind that wolves often have when they sense snares but step into them. his shoulders stay square-like, chin slightly titled. SUBMISSION / CALCULATION ? PERHAPS THEY'RE THE SAME. ‘‘ .. careful, deputy. ’’ a pause, watches the tremor in her trigger, the way a botanist studies their petals. the silence that follows is not empty, it is watching her. he might even feel the trees lean in. waiting for the tremor or micro hesitations alike. ‘‘ finger's heavier than you think. ’’

[peggies]

a wonderful warped tour weekend was had

[peggies]

daryls moved to a solo 🏹 @lazirus

[djo]

I think you lost something. No, he just likes you better.

[nocturnekks]

blue sky / august 16, 2025

[dearemma]

EMMA. (2020) dir. Autumn de Wilde

[52troop-deactivated20251203]

it's funny. how rotten of a shithole this precinct had become without about seven or eight assholes sitting back with their feet kicked up keeping the dust away. david, he loves the smell. loves being the only one alert; the only one working; the only one doing something right; the only one rewarded. being a detective is not a team sport and anyone who does it with a partner is a goddamn liar if they tell you two brains are better than one. david is the brain. and when needed, the brawn. david and goliath, right?

could he see right through him? daryl? see right through goliath like the stone that had struck him bore a hole big enough to peer through? or, humourlessly, had david (not the david with goliath, just david) established himself enough to be that straight and narrow? abyssal gaze flickers up to the sign overhead, through the smoke that is, and the detective scoffs. before he can muffle out a yeaaaah fuck you, he's let in on a secret. at least, that's how his ears classify it. overtime, and not just when the world rolled over and died, david learned that people share things when they need the familiarity of their own voice to comfort them. and fuck it if that's what daryl was doing, only god hears david's quiet voice when he admits when he's actually wrong.

‘ y'want me t'scold you, or some shit? ’ palm weighs heavy on the back of his pistol. the action tends to bleed behind a tone that can't help its authority. the detective kicks at a mess of molted boxes and papers, the shit hardly moves. ‘ ...what rules were you breakin'? (unconvinced) hunt someone's dog? ’ that scoff returns, tentative now, with an even stranger flicker shaking the corner of his lips. some people call it a smirk. the detective adds, ‘ —someone's wife? ’

[peggies]

infinitesimal droplets sketch their trembling descent down barred windows. the air tastes of oxidized sermons, paper rot, the sterile perfumes of bureaucracy post-mortem. daryl hears the way the place hums for david — how his eyes move like he’s back on the clock, how his hands still measure the room for clues left to dust. the man fits here too well. [ a breed made for afters. ] you can tell by the way he talks: like stratagem’s a language, and he’s fairly fluent in it. men like that don’t die, truthfully. they continue hosting the body. he’s never liked cops. not the way they talked, not the way they watched. certainly not the way they filled a room corner to corner like god himself sent down badges instead of consciences. [ funny, how the world ends, and yet still the cops show up first to the scene. ] behind the detective’s hard voice, there’s a weight there. NOT MOCKEY, MORERATHER RECGONITION. like he’s seen men like daryl before & never truly liked any of them. more likely, it is, that daryl simply hated himself more for what it meant that he understood this. daryl huffs at the comment. half a laugh, half a warning. ‘‘ yeah. funny. ’’ ash tumbles off the cigarette.

something like that. the gruff, sarcastic words echo off tiled walls, softened by mildew & time. shrugs. then answers. ‘‘ dumb shit. ’’ he says, after a while.

dumb shit that didn't matter, now, in hindsight. ‘‘ ... i was an idiot. ’’ the admission hangs there, suspended like smoke, shapeless, penitential. he looks down the corridor, where the dusk lighting flickers slow through the clouds, and for a moment, the shape of his younger self flickers back at him in the dark. it's a sort of half-formed ghost, a mirage stitched from nicotine and summer heat. a boy all elbows and anger, knuckles raw from provin’ things he didn't need to prove. ‘‘ you, how'd that halo look before all this ? ’’

[peggies]

there's a crescendo of elements — some rain, some wind, and there's metal, as well, groaning while its awoken from it's sleep , precinct breathes through it like wounded animals. each inhalation drawn through the ribs of shattered blinds, each exhalation curdled in rust and rain. you know, david and daryl are like wounded animals and crescendos themselves. they're also more alike than either one would care to admit, but that's for them to discover. [ OBSERVE AND DEDUCE : the world has ended three hundred and sixty five or so times already, and yet still insists on dying again tonight. ] daryl saunters at the cell’s edge, haloed in phosphor glow, a statue cut from asphalt & stubbornness alike. cigarette winks alive between calloused fingers, CLINK! says the lighter. the first inhale rips down to the bone. he keeps it there, lungs iron-clad, letting the pain hum like penance. smoke unfurls upward, slow and tender. they'd originally parked here in the precinct to both shelter until the storm passed as well as loot. neither seemed likely anytime soon. the detective hovers about in daryl's peripheral blur, a figure stitched from paper trails and regret, fingertips restless around a pistol’s spine as though the act of checking it might reassemble his belief. ( old instincts rot the slowest, you know. ) above daryl, is a sign that states NO SMOKING. and daryl, half-saint, dull humored, breaks the air with a drawl that doesn't quite ask for forgiveness. ‘‘ rules still mean somethin' to you ? ’’ smoke spills from his mouth like confessions do, and he curls a hand against the bars. ‘‘ always been good breakin' 'em. then world went t'shit, took all the fun out of it. ’’ @52troop

[ohisms]

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 .    (  a  collection  of  100  nonverbal  action  prompts .   mature  and  potentially  triggering  themes  are  present .   add  “ + reverse ”  to  swap  assigned  roles . )

∗ o1﹕ sender  tucks  hair  out  of  receiver’s  face . ∗ o2﹕ sender  offers  receiver  a  bite  from  their  fork . ∗ o3﹕ sender  places  their  feet / legs  in  receiver's  lap . ∗ o4﹕ sender  offers  receiver  an  earbud  to  share  their  music . ∗ o5﹕ sender  comforts  receiver  in  the  aftermath  of  a  nightmare . ∗ o6﹕ sender  gives  receiver  company  in  the  hospital . ∗ o7﹕ sender  wraps  their  arms  around  a  hysterical  receiver  to  calm  them . ∗ o8﹕ sender  shows  up  at  receiver’s  home  late  at  night . ∗ o9﹕ sender  falls  asleep  leaning  against  receiver . ∗ 1o﹕ sender  wields  a  [ gun / knife ]  at  receiver . ∗ 11﹕ sender  runs  their  fingers  through  receiver’s  hair . ∗ 12﹕ sender  invites  receiver  to  dance . ∗ 13﹕ sender  takes  a  [ picture / video ]  of  receiver . ∗ 14﹕ sender  places  their  head  in  receiver’s  lap . ∗ 15﹕ sender  and  receiver  make  eye  contact  across  a  busy  room . ∗ 16﹕ sender  pushes  receiver  against  a  wall  to  kiss  them . ∗ 17﹕ sender  and  receiver  cook  together . ∗ 18﹕ sender  comes  to  receiver  after  being  injured . ∗ 19﹕ sender  sits  in  receiver’s  lap . ∗ 2o﹕ sender  lifts  receiver's  chin ,  invoking  eye  contact . ∗ 21﹕ sender  overtakes  receiver  in  combat . ∗ 22﹕ sender  finds  receiver  [ injured / bloodied ] . ∗ 23﹕ sender  straightens  an  article  of  receiver’s  clothes . ∗ 24﹕ sender  crawls  into  bed  with  receiver . ∗ 25﹕ sender  rolls  their  eyes  at  receiver . ∗ 26﹕ sender  lights  receiver’s  [ cigarette / joint ] . ∗ 27﹕ sender  is  caught  wearing  receiver's  clothes . ∗ 28﹕ sender  strikes  receiver  with  a  pillow . ∗ 29﹕ sender  writes  a  note  on  receiver’s  skin :  [ note ] . ∗ 3o﹕ sender  wraps  a  blanket  around  receiver’s  shoulders . ∗ 31﹕ sender  runs  and  jumps  into  receiver’s  arms . ∗ 32﹕ sender  shoves  receiver  out  of  anger . ∗ 33﹕ sender  hovers  over  receiver’s  shoulder  as  they  complete  a  task . ∗ 34﹕ sender  is  found  by  receiver  somewhere  they  shouldn’t  be . ∗ 35﹕ sender  curls  up  against  receiver  in  their  sleep . ∗ 36﹕ sender  is  found  drunk  by  receiver . ∗ 37﹕ sender  throws  an  item  of  sentiment  bitterly  at  receiver . ∗ 38﹕ sender  joins  receiver  in  the  shower . ∗ 39﹕ sender  is  caught  following  receiver . ∗ 4o﹕ sender  traces  one  of  receiver’s  [ scars / bruises ] . ∗ 41﹕ sender  twines  their  fingers  with  receiver’s . ∗ 42﹕ sender  barges  into  receiver’s  home  unannounced . ∗ 43﹕ sender  kicks  receiver’s  shin  beneath  a  table . ∗ 44﹕ sender  aggressively  shoves  past  receiver . ∗ 45﹕ sender  kisses  receiver’s  [ forehead / cheek ] . ∗ 46﹕ sender  pulls  receiver  out  of  harm’s  way . ∗ 47﹕ sender  is  found  sobbing  by  receiver . ∗ 48﹕ sender  locks  receiver  out  of  their  room . ∗ 49﹕ sender  brings  receiver  [ coffee / tea ]  in  the  morning . ∗ 5o﹕ sender  rests  their  forehead  against  receiver’s . ∗ 51﹕ sender  plays  a  song  for  receiver  that  reminds  them  of  them :  [ song ] . ∗ 52﹕ sender  takes  a  [ punch / stab / bullet ]  meant  for  receiver . ∗ 53﹕ sender  buys  receiver  a  drink  at  a  bar . ∗ 54﹕ sender  needs  receiver’s  help  getting  in  the  bath . ∗ 55﹕ sender  and  receiver  cross  paths  in  the  kitchen  late  at  night . ∗ 56﹕ sender  twists  receiver’s  arm  behind  their  back . ∗ 57﹕ sender  winks  at  receiver . ∗ 58﹕ sender  is  found  collapsed  by  receiver . ∗ 59﹕ sender  prevents  an  injured  receiver  from  getting  up . ∗ 6o﹕ sender  claps  a  hand  over  receiver’s  mouth  to  silence  them . ∗ 61﹕ sender  cages  receiver  against  a  [ wall / the floor ]  with  their  arms . ∗ 62﹕ sender  storms  away  from  receiver  during  an  argument . ∗ 63﹕ sender  is  found  by  receiver  sleeping  in  receiver’s  bed . ∗ 64﹕ sender  [ applies / touches up ]  receiver’s  makeup . ∗ 65﹕ sender  throws  receiver  into  a  wall  during  combat . ∗ 66﹕ sender  dances  sensually  with  receiver . ∗ 67﹕ sender  strikes  receiver  across  the  face . ∗ 68﹕ sender  places  their  hand  on  receiver’s  leg  while  driving . ∗ 69﹕ sender  pulls  a  chair  out  from  under  receiver . ∗ 7o﹕ sender  catches  receiver’s  wrist  when  they  turn  to  leave . ∗ 71﹕ sender  leaves  an  intimate  mark  on  receiver . ∗ 72﹕ sender  beats  receiver  in  a  video  game . ∗ 73﹕ sender  and  receiver  stand  in  stunned  silence  after  a  fight . ∗ 74﹕ sender  cares  for  receiver  while  they’re  sick . ∗ 75﹕ sender  and  receiver  go  on  a  hike . ∗ 76﹕ sender  is  caught  snooping  in  receiver’s  things . ∗ 77﹕ sender  and  receiver  cuddle  while  watching  television . ∗ 78﹕ sender  throws  something  aggressively  at  receiver . ∗ 79﹕ sender  creeps  up  behind  receiver  to  scare  them . ∗ 8o﹕ sender  and  receiver  go  shopping  together . ∗ 81﹕ sender  helps  receiver  [ dye / style ]  their  hair . ∗ 82﹕ sender  draws  receiver  into  a  kiss  by  the  back  of  their  neck . ∗ 83﹕ sender  is  discovered  having  a  panic  attack  by  receiver . ∗ 84﹕ sender  accidentally  injures  receiver  during  sparring . ∗ 85﹕ sender  grabs  receiver  roughly  by  the  hair . ∗ 86﹕ sender  brings  receiver  to  their  knees  during  combat . ∗ 87﹕ sender  shows  receiver  evidence  of  a  lie  they  told . ∗ 88﹕ sender  winks  [ seductively / mockingly ]  at  receiver . ∗ 89﹕ sender  yells  at  receiver  to  put  their  hands  in  the  air . ∗ 9o﹕ sender  helps  receiver  patch  up  a  wound . ∗ 91﹕ sender  holds  receiver  as  they  cry . ∗ 92﹕ sender  silently  and  angrily  points  receiver  towards  the  door . ∗ 93﹕ sender  gestures  for  receiver  to  sit  down . ∗ 94﹕ sender  pulls  receiver  into  their  lap . ∗ 95﹕ sender  cradles  receiver’s  face . ∗ 96﹕ sender  tackles  receiver  out  of  the  way  of  danger . ∗ 97﹕ sender  has  hidden  an  injury  from  receiver ,  and  receiver  finds  out . ∗ 98﹕ sender  confronts  receiver  about  their  unhealthy  behavior . ∗ 99﹕ sender  proposes  to  receiver . ∗ 1oo﹕ sender  has  just  died ,  receiver  finds  out .

[peggies]

⃰ prompt ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗⁱⁿᵍ ?? @diam1nd : how the hell did i get here?

hollywood's bleeding and a city like los santos doesn't sleep, it twitches. dreams here are electric, trembling things — half-formed ghosts caught between hasbeens and gunmetal. beneath the hum, asphalt glistens with the memory of rain, a mirror cracked by too many headlights. the air tastes faintly of ozone and sin. this is the cathedral of exhaust, the liturgy of smog. when she speaks, she'd done so like confession, like a song losing tune mid-verse. said too clean for streets that bleed oil, too human-like for the city’s machine. franklin chuckles then, not cruelly, really. never that. just with the kind of tired amusement that belongs to men who’ve already seen every ending twice or a few more times. ‘‘ .. & can't even trip. it feel like that sometimes, like they got you in the deep end, tellin' you to swim. ’’ [ franklin's been in the deep end many times before, swimming or another. the first times aren't even water at all, but asphalt slick with rain, his shoes too big, his breath too short, watching lamar run his mouth and the cops run them both. ] ‘‘ guess ain't no map for this, baby, one minute you grindin', next, you're in someone else's story. ’’ what a way to learn to swim. not with strokes but with instincts.

[peggies]

⃰ prompt ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗⁱⁿᵍ ?? @52troop : you keep mocking me.

and for a moment, even the flicker of midnight candlelight appears to bow, arrested mid-gesture , mockery, she'd said, & oh — that quip of her ingenuous heresy strikes him deeper than any blade or prayer. the chamber exhales, perfumed with dust and lingering perfume of mischief made flesh. loki remains very still, [ the way an actor does before his cue. every inch of him aware that this is his element : spotlights and mockery and such. ] ‘‘ .. mocking you? never, my dear syn. ’’ the voice arrives honey-laced, deliberate, perfidious. vowels unfurl like smoke from some invisible censer. he might jest syn the way a thirsting man touches water: hesitant, greedy, like the young do.

‘‘ .. i only test the music of your patience, and you make the most delightful noise when you’ve caught me out. what better sport for trickery than the muse ? ’’ and the words linger in this evening air after he’s spoken them, as if reluctant to rejoin the lesser music of mortality. for that is what he is: SPEAK IS TO PERFORM, PERFORM IS TO EXIST. and the audience was ever so sweetly, so terribly credulous.

[amygone]

it's a craving. an undeniable desire, no doubt: john seed. this folded image of a baptist undone like the wrap of thread gone loose off the spool pin, unravelling and revealing that of a pale, manufactured, white-bellied tube. the chase of the youngest sibling down to the final arrow shot through his head made him look similar. stripped of garments by the sheer thrill of the hunt—and john seed is no hunter. was, no hunter. and he was hardly the hunted. without his little stage, without his little audiences, without his little ravine: a baptist—the baptist—was nothing at all. pale and sick, manufactured like everyone else, and white bellied beneath all the sweat and blood that stained his clothes wrapped around his empty tube of a body. for a minute there: standing in haggard breath from tar lungs, watching daryl retrieve the arrow john didn't deserve to die with in his skull, amy almost thought she and john—swan and baptist—looked similar after all this time.

" i know. " fear mongering is an ancient trick. how a wolf uses the vastness of the forest to echo its howl: fooling a lamb out of luck that no one is coming to save it. not its mother. not its shepherd. not another animal. that it would meet a fate of a thousand wolves, even if there was really only one. amy listens to jacob like a lamb already dead. what more could he do to her?

.. a lot.

amy stares down the barrel like its the old street of a childhood memory. what was it, botolph? saint botolph? just like the barrel of jacob's rifle: that house was darkened and empty with a silent predator stalking its halls like the bullet amy thinks she can see the head of had jacob not lowered it from her eyes. " it will. eventually. " swallows. down goes the plea that begs him to just lift the end of his fucking gun up again and scare the birds out of the trees with a blast that will send her brain across the room. how terrifying it is that this time: amy is far too scared of this wolf to listen to him any longer. " could just kill me too. quickest way down a hill is t'trip—right? ..you kill that girl yet? "

[peggies]

something akin to darkness warps around this encounter the way heat warps metal: like snake to flute , the forest’s breath sucked clean from the space, the muzzle quivering like liquid glass. a halo of gun-oil and sulfur perfume lingers ... his pupils shrink to pin-point psalms. [ JACOB SEED : born of infection and crossfire, a creature of echoing orders. ] ‘‘ ... i guess i could, huh. both of you. ’’ & he says it plainly, almost bored. no flourish. there's no need for it, really. the possibility weighs like wet cloths and he knows the shape of it — THE SNAP, THE TASTE the calculation that comes after. there is a hunger there, a neat, animal thing that has learned to savor endings. but, there is no trigger need pulling. there are rules, you see. and truthfully, they're not of law or rights and wrongs, but of sermon and pedigree of the voice of one joseph seed as a scaffold around them.

‘‘ see, though, that girl ain’t yours to measure. she ain’t mine, neither. ’’ SHE IS THE FAULTLINE IN THE FAITH, a thin-boned prophecy wrapped in bruises. not a child, definitely not a saint, but a suggestion of both and that's what makes her dangerous. joseph calls her renewal, fresh air breathing and whatnot, as if god himself had taken to building his next eden personally. jacob sees something else: a lamb born rehearsing their scream. she moves through the compound, bare feet skimming dust. in plain words, she's a sermon he's been ordered to memorize but can never believe in. [ you know, he wonders, sometimes if she'd float if the river finally comes for them all. if joseph would call her holy once her blood runs black. ] he leans forward, thumb worrying the chipped paint along the rifle’s spine, the gesture halfway between confession and compulsion.

there is no mercy in the voice that follows, only function dressed in faith: ‘‘ you wanna test it? see if she bleeds something holy or bleeds like the rest of us? ’’

[sufferwolf]

— ˀ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤslipknot — self titled album ask prompts.

all you have to do is get rid of me!

don't you fuckin' pity me.

you haven't learned a thing.

you want it, you need it.

you stupid fuck.

don't ever judge me!

what the fuck is up?

you can't begin to consider the palpable hate.

god, what the fuck is wrong?

i have sinned by just making my mind up.

how the hell did i get here?

i am my father's son.

'bout time i set this record straight.

i'm nothing short of being one complete catastrophe.

i've felt the hate rise up in me.

how many times have you wanted to kill?

you're leavin' me suspect, i'm leavin' you grotesque.

i am not ashamed.

i can't be blamed!

do you wanna feel pain?

all i ever wanted out of you was something you could never be.

maybe it's me, but i'm frantic in a panic.

what the hell did i do to deserve all of this?

i don't like a fuckin' thing.

this fucking life is killing me.

it isn't easy to be hated.

i feel safe.

feels like a burn from which you never learn.

spit it out.

i won't allow it.

you bet your bottom dollar i'm the top of the shit pile.

i wanna die, i'd rather die.

how many times have you wanted to die?

can you look in my eyes when my back's against the wall?

better get away from me.

all i wanna do is stamp you out.

never had peace but i gotta fight.

think i fear you? bullshit!

is there any way to break through the noise?

what the hell am i sayin'?

i'm cold, i'm ugly.

i'm gonna snap.

there's something inside me.

better get an army 'cause the fire left me unscathed.

what is vital isn't always humane.

cause and effect, you jealous ass.

i'm takin' names and gettin' pissed!

it is time!

it's all in your head.

forget today, forget whatever happened.

my state of mind gets so one-sided.

i don't want you to pay anyone when i die.

this'll better me, a part of me.

it doesn't matter what price, you win.

my heroes are dead, they died in my head.

what the hell have i done?

i can't control my shakes.

fuck you!

running out of ways to run.

get the fuck away.

where you gonna be in the next five years?

fuck me! i'm all out of enemies!

idiotic sense of yourself, are you that dumb?

the price is too human for fucking sake.

she's never coming back.

you got no pull, no power, no nothin'.

is it malice that makes you this way?

fuck this shit, i'm sick of it.

can't escape this place.

i am not a dog, but i'm the one you dog.

i wasn't very much fun to be with anyway.

have you ever seen god?

i have never felt so final.

seems you're saved.

keep in mind, i watch you.

all this attention is doing me in!

i don't need you anymore.

i found you.

now you start shit? well, ain't that somethin'?

then you're dumber than i thought.

you heard me right, bitch, i didn't stutter.

there's something in you i despise.

who the fuck am i to criticize your twisted state of mind?

every damn word i say is a sneak attack.

i can't be a part of a system such as this.

i see you in me.

someone in behind me.

you're goin' down, this is a war!

i haven't got time for the living.

something inside me has opened up again.

i make you my enemy.

what the fuck is this, another joke?

you keep mocking me.

did you never give a damn in the first place?

payoffs don't protect, and you can hide if you want—but i'll find you.

i can't believe i'm doin' this.

are you scared of me now?

now take a real good look at what you've fucking done to me.

do you know what it's like to live with that?

i can't think of any other words to say but fuck.

you lied to me for so long.

i know what you want, and i can give it to you.

you ain't no fucking friend of mine.

get off of my back.

you don't care 'cause you don't exist.

am i the only motherfucker with a brain?

this is no kind of life!

you won't bother me if you let me bother you.

good riddance—though i'm sad to say i didn't get to kill you.

i am the push that makes you move.

i'm hearing voices but all they do is complain.

all i see is hate.

fuck you all!

give me any reason why i'd need you.

i can't remember, i don't understand.

you don't matter!

you ain't shit, just a puddle on the bed spread.

man nearly killed me.

show me what you wanna be.

all i want is what is mine.

i don't wanna do a show with your shitty fuckin' band.

when i get my hands on you, ain't a fucking thing you can do.

get this or die!

i have to laugh out loud.

just do what you have to do to me.

even if you run, i will find you.

i am hungry and tired.

don't you know who you're dissin'?

i don't know about malevolent.

give me any reason not to fuck you up.

it's too late for me.

i can handle anything.

if you know what's good—just shut up and beg, brother.

i can hardly take it.

you don't give a shit.

i'm not the second coming, i'm the first wave.

i guess it's time to bury your ass with the chrome straight to the dome.

why am i so fascinated by bigger pictures, better things?

gotta be that way if you want it.

i wasn't promised a thing.

no one knows what it's like.

you suck, they suck, guess what? get fucked.

all you wanna do is drag me down.

i haven't changed a thing.

is it a dream or a memory?

you made your own fucking choice.

better make yourself at home, you're here to stay.

anybody else got pride?

life's so shitty, but ain't it fucking great?

too far gone, i'm catatonic.

you can't kill me 'cause i'm already inside you.

how long have i had this?

i can stare into a thousand eyes but every smile hides a bold-faced lie.

i think i'm slowly dying.

this is not the way i pictured me.

hard life is hard as hell.

i'm always confused by everything.

i am the very disease you pretend to be.

i wish i didn't like this.

i laugh 'cause there's nothing to say.

who the fuck are you?

you're all reality and sound bites.

you all stare, but you'll never see.

are you sick of me?

i don't care what you think, you'll never understand me.

lemme tell you somethin'—i'll push you back!

you don't care.

i don't give a shit, bitch.

just 'cause i have nerves, don't mean that i can feel.

forget about the battle, it's the war we gotta win.

the pain was always free.

carry it with you 'til someone forgives you.

fuck everything that you stand for!

biding my time until the time is right.

you act like you knew it all along.

why didn't i see this?

get a grip, don't let me slip

you can't stop me from breaking your face.

get this 'cause you're never gonna get me.

i am fucking gone, i think i'm fucking dying.

maybe it's time you had the tables turned.

just another dumb punk chompin' at this tit.

stay the fuck away from me!

life is just too fucking hard.

damn it, man, i knew it was a mistake.

can't you see it's gotta be this way?

the whole thing, i think it's sick.

don't berate me.

ain't never had a problem since you stopped coming here.

many have come and gone.

do you wanna take my life?

i don't need this.

all the doors are locked, all the windows shut.

say you'll do it, but never will.

here comes the pain.

only one of us walks away.

get outta my head 'cause i don't need this.

was it something that i said that got you bent?

[cinematicmasterpiece]

sing sing (2023)

[peggies]

⃰ prompt ?? @52troop : what i wouldn't give to be in church this sunday.

somewhere, the wind drags itself across the carcass of this land .. a hymn sung through hollowed-out concrete. somewhere, in unfathomable beyond, a church bell rings, its echo mangled, its note caught in the throat of the wind. crescendo of dusk, or perhaps what remains of it, bleeds into the hollowed out arteries of the woods. FOUR WALLS AND A ROOF: that’s what’s left of the church now. four walls, a roof, and the echo of hymns turned to nothing. [ observe then conclude : the pews still bleed from the boards, the air smells of rot and resurrection, of faith left too long in the sun. ] rick’s voice just a threadbare whisper, confessional in its cadence, folds itself into that same shape. the words stir something dormant. and frank, creature of aftermath, that iron-wrought reliquary of violence and smoke, exhales through what one might call a laugh.

‘‘ .. yeaaah .. yeah, man. place like that wouldn't take us no more. damn pew'd fall in soon as we walk in. roof, too. ’’

pause. prolonged, deliberate / the flame of his cigarette quivers like a votive in the ruins. rasp of bone and half-remembered mercy. a joke, perhaps. a confession, more likely. addendum, the woods listen and they do not forgive. people are dead, skin is charred. and for a fleeting moment, if only in the fractured eye of divinity, two damned men look almost holy. ‘‘ if you find one still standin’, sheriff, i’ll light a candle with you. hell, maybe two. ’’