hanamal1k

[hanamal1k]

God gave me royalty to be at ease yet it's the thing I hate the most about me. He gave me good things to be grateful for but I hate them all. This is because there is something rotting within me. It was all assigned to the wrong person. I cannot be normal. "I feel scared Yusuf. I'm scared of you. Whenever you kiss my feet I remember how I was treated in the palace. You dont treat me like the servants used to. Why don't you treat me like the servants used to? Why don't you treat me like a slave? I am carrying every bad thing that has ever happened to me on my back like a sack of stones over my shoulder wherever I go. It digs into my neck and causes a rash that burns. Initially, I thought maybe I felt special. After all, I am a princess. I thought that's what separates me from the crowd. But when people flash a smile I feel offended. I hate it, Yusuf. I hate when people smile and compliment me. I hate anything lavish. I desperately need gold that is fake. I need to be clad in simple cotton kurtas. I hate the colour red. This is what I try to explain to you everyday! In the bazaar, you pitied me for the common stones on the rings occupying my fingers. I explained it to you then. After it all, you say I do not deserve the frail mattresses. What is that you mean? Are you trying to take revenge on me?! Though our hatred for my father is mutual, after all I am his daughter. How am I supposed to believe you do not wish to sabotage me when you threaten to put me in the same position I barely crawled out of? Do you even know? I hate the purple silk sheets and the grandiose bed chamber. When I lie on my back, I still do not get adequate rest because the light of the moon is caught by the very real diamonds stuck to the top edges of the chamber. It glints and reflects onto my eyes. It is blinding. I hate them, too. The royal stones remind me of the rotten marrow swimming in my bones. I hate when I look into the mirror and I look pretty."

[hanamal1k]

Do it like this :)

side profilea are my worst enemy ugh

[hanamal1k]

"Will you just tell me what your fucking problem is? You're acting crazy, you know that, but you think you can still pretend everything is fine? Spit it out!"

"I'm— I'm being haunted."

I've said the forbidden thing. And I'm waiting for the ceiling to fall on top of us or for the ground to swallow me whole, but all i see and feel is the horror on their faces. Why isn't Celia, the Celia whom I murdered not doing a single thing? It is only when i lift my head to see their horrified faces once again that I understand.

I understand to such a degree that I break into maniacal laughter as the world spins around me. Both me and the woman haunting me— we share a common goal now.

I want to We want to torture the people who made me murder her. "Maybe Celia's not haunting me. Maybe I'm posessed by her. For I've never understood a person this much before!"

"You watch your mouth, new prince. Before I—"

"Before you strip me off the 'chosen hero' title? Well to hell with your fucking special play, your uniqueness. Curse you and that royal blood— After all, what kind of chosen hero, What kind of God' s favourite hold's a knife to a young woman's innocent throat? All in the name of 'erasing cursed heritage?' In the name of the cause, you ruined me! You all have forgotten yourselves! Even declared yourself king, at the expense of making me a murderer. At the expense of the love of my life— no, the life of my love!" Celia uses her powers now. No, her presence is stronger. She uses it to shut me up, ofcourse. Frightening, how love is enough to shake the souls of the dead, aswell.

After all, I only confessed my love for her once she was incapable of loving me back.

"Lock him up. Cut him until he swears by the blood."

I pray she will use her powers to intervene, and save me from the torture. I hear no objection as I'm dragged away. What a creative manner to reject me, my celia. I will admire you from hell

"Will you just tell me what your fucking problem is? You're acting crazy, you know that, but you think you can still pretend everything is fine? Spit it out!"

"I'm— I'm being haunted."

[hanamal1k]

Slipping time is looking down at you. Its favourite incarnation, and it's thinking: has it forgotten us? Has it, forgotten itself?

Time is worried, how the little incarnation with such fascinating drive is no longer moving. You are still as if time is still

[hanamal1k]

My lovers in a band

He plays guitar while I hold his hand

Oh the sound of the screeching tunes

They scratch and bruise

He never lets go

Beauty's pain and

I'm his muse

[hanamal1k]

My dear, I will read your book.

Best believe I will not criticise the flow of words for I know they are born out of the heart. I will read despite the timeskips and flawed main couples, I will memorize your difficult pages despite their jaggedy flow.

But my dear, first you must bring me the book.

Write, my darling. The hypothetical reader in your mind is as inaccurate as one can be— for the reader that I am, all I need is words.

But you must write first, my darling. Do it for me

I'm your reader

[hanamal1k]

Moloccan Electus is one of my favourite red parrots 🤌 it's like you read my mind! I love the red against the green✅❤😩

a moluccan eclectus for @hanamal1k !!

[hanamal1k]

"He wraps my fingers around the knife.

he's so close.

The only barrier between us is this pointed silver weapon.

He whispers softly, inches away from my lips— "Kill or kiss."

He moves even more forward, if that is possible. His breathy words are hush of air on my lips "-the choice is yours."

My heart is hammering in my chest. His eyes hold mine captive, not leaving for a second.

He stares at me, so desperate—

I press the tip of the knife into his throat.

My shadow casts over him as his knees grow weaker, eventually sitting him on top of the bed. Thighs find themselves on either side of him.

Blood trickles where I've pressed the knife.

My lips brush his and I feel the electricity dominating his nerves. I do not flinch when I speak.

"Why not both?"

—Hana Malik

Would you read? Written when I was 12 so I'm considering dropping it.

[hanamal1k]

Tumblr is my twitter because I don't have to close my eyes every 2 seconds because someone ståbbing another person might show up

[hanamal1k]

See what your followers think of you.

BLACK = I would date you.

GREEN = I think you’re cute.

BLUE = You are my tumblr crush.

GREY = I wish you would notice me.

PURPLE = I don���t talk to you but I really love your blog.

TEAL = We have a lot in common.

YELLOW = I don’t know you at all.

ORANGE = I don’t like your blog.

BROWN = I don’t like you.

PINK = I think you are unattractive.

RED = I hate you with a burning passion.

WHITE = You scare me.

RAINBOW = BED PLZ.

SCARLET = You have influenced my decision/thoughts on something.

MAROON = You taught me something new.

CINNAMON = You’re a really cool person and admire you from afar.

PERIWINKLE = You make me laugh

MAUVE = You are really talented

BLUSH = Seeing you on my dash makes my day a little better.

CYAN = We have very little in common

THISTLE = I only just started following you

INDIGO = I’ve been following you for a long time

FUCHSIA = Your blog content is gold

COPPER = Your blog content is trash (and I love it)

VERMILION = You make me feel passionate

HONEYDEW = I want to call you by a nickname

LAVENDER = You inspire me

CORAL = You’re a meme

UMBER = I want to know more about you

FORGET-ME-NOT = You remind me of somebody

RAZZMATAZZ = I would share my favorite food with you

ARSENIC = I don’t know how to describe the way I feel about you

WINE = You make me feel kinda funny, like when we used to climb the rope in gym class

SAFFRON = I love your ideas

TIMBERWOLF = I trust you

FALLOW = I want to run through the Northern wilderness barefoot with you

PLUM = I’d like to chat with you

TANGERINE = I love your aesthetic

SAGE = You make me cry

CRIMSON = We should collaborate on something!

VIRIDIAN = I wanna hang out on your blog

CHARTREUSE = You’re my homie

BURGUNDY = I get excited when I see posts from you

[hanamal1k]

I never understood people who stay in abusive relationships when they have access to leaving the relationship.

But when my head hit the pillow this night i made sure to not sleep on my right (even though thats my favourite sleeping position) because not sleeping on your back causes Asymmetry. Then I realised Beauty is like the abuser that everyone praises you for having. For being in a relationship with. Beauty is like the ‘Perfect spouse’ that abuses you when no ones watching, the spouse that causes people to say shallow remarks “you’re such a lucky one for having this person” like you’re nothing without them. when really all the spouse does is hurts you where you can hide it and beautifies you where they can be praised for it. what are you without that spouse? What will you do, even if your life is peaceful if you’re not special anymore without your abusive accessory?

What will you do without beauty?

[hanamal1k]

Can u guys start putting insanely good books and photoshopping my name on it (hana malik) so together we can create awareness about me as an author (haven't even written my first book)

Help a girl out I'll give u a cookie

And pls gimme more ideas

[hanamal1k]

I hope writers realize that were not here to

Impress anyone

Make people like us

We're not even here to write well

We're here to finish the book

And not be historically accurate or use the correct word for it

I hope we writers know you can overexplain something and then remember the short word that summarises the 3 pages once u publish the book

This is for all teenage, rupi kaur 'cringey' writers as well. (I dont like u but u deserve a place on this earth aswell)

[hanamal1k]

“Do not lose hope. Please believe there are a thousand beautiful things waiting for you.”

— Unknown

[hanamal1k]

50 posts!

Yet none of you bitches interact you hoes

[hanamal1k]

How many of you would read a romance wattpad Novel of an indian princess and her Pakistani Knight running away together??lmk

[hanamal1k]

“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you