antialibi:
created & written by ivy. the reality you think you remember, it doesn’t exist. stop looking over your shoulder, there’s nothing there. her laughter was false, your memories are false. it’s awful that you look into dark rooms and expect a face to emerge. but you should be glad this is all a figment of your imagination. because what if she was real? a woman long dead, brought back to serve some terrible absence, and claim your sanity as her prize. she would have destroyed you! the chaos would have killed you. so stop trying to find her, she’s not there. antialibi, re - established may 2018.
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❝ Looking for trouble and if I cannot find it, I will create it. ❞
HER FACE SPLIT WITH a wicked grin, her teeth were sharpened and shined with hunger. “ o - ooh, ” she sighed, cheeks flushing with the prospect of impending chaos ; her ears perked and charlotte swore she could the screaming and wailing of a storm of entropy on its way. meanwhile, his voice might as well been velvet to the vessel, heavy and rich with a sense of promise . “ i like the way you think, ” she told him.
the wooden chair she sat on creaked when she leaned back. from the table - top, she picked the silver fork and began to wipe it clean with a paper napkin. once, twice - she twirled the utensil between and along her deft fingers, then, with a sudden but imperfect motion, she pocketed the fork. bruised elbows pressed into the uneven table - top and she leaned her cheek against the flat of her fist. charlotte batted her lashes and smiled. “ how can i help? ” / @sythegun .
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things you said while you stroked my hair
YOU WERE STARING UP AT THE CEILING. your eyes were glassy and i thought of the corpses i’ve acquainted and made friends with over the years ; they had a habit of mindless staring too. but i could see you breathing and just like the dark, living thing that used to waver behind my eyes, i could see thoughts and dreams sparkling behind your eyes. i’m glad that the blue of your eyes remind of the sky instead of the ocean. otherwise, i might have to fear you, but i won’t tell you that. “ i’m not going anywhere, ” i said instead. the first wave of drowsiness had already gone away. now, the night seemed still and immortal. we had turned out the lights, but i could hear the humming of electricity in the walls and the soft skittering of mozz’s claws over the floors.
THIS WAS OUR DEFAULT. your head rested on my lap, your face turned away from the sun. i’d offer you my pair of shades but you’d said you wanted to feel the warmth, but the light was too disturbing. and you were right ; that day, the sunlight had been harsh and haughty. rays slanted over the pages of my paperback, which i held up and open with one hand - the other softly pulling at the long locks of your hair by your hairline, hoping to drag them over your closed eyes. the pages were yellowed with age, but the ink became emboldened in the bright light. i sighed, lowered the book, and asked : “ can you turn the page for me, please? ” and you did. “ ILL - FATED AND MYSTERIOUS MAN, ” i read, forgetting to lift my voice with the punctuation. “ bewildered in the brilliancy of thine own imagination… ”
I WAS A PAWN ONCE MORE. darkness shrouded and ignorance became the preservative in which my brain was encased. i reached up and briefly ran a hand through your hair, my fingers caught in the knots that you’d worked into your hair earlier - with your cyclic thoughts and mad pacing . but then you turned away quickly and my hand was left suspended in the air, made chilly with sudden absence . i could feel an ache bloom between my brows ; hammer and nail against my forehead. “ talk to me, tyler. ” minds were fascinating things. but he was more than fascination, more than curiosity. “ i want to know what’s wrong. tyler, i need to know what’s wrong or else i can’t help you. ” this time, i caught your hand and when you stopped, reality spun for another moment - momentum carrying away until energy snapped back like elastic. “ talk to me. ”
YOU WERE STARING UP AT ME. i stood on the edge of the top stair - step and a panic attack. i looked down at you and thought of the limitless skies, i thought of the wealth of love i could see in your gaze. my hands shook ( a mechanical specimen come back to life ) but steadied as i gently placed them on other side of your head. then, steadied even more as i began to brush your hair back from your forehead and neaten the cow - licks by the nape of your neck. i’m here, you said and i nodded my head. i’m here, you repeated and took a shuddering breath. i’m here, you said again, this time with a smile as my shoulders began to sag in relief and i choose to trust this reality. “ okay. don’t go anywhere. ” / PROMPT, accepting - @nrrctr .
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❝ The ability to remain sober and gracious is, indeed, a mild form of insanity. ❞
“ WELL - PRACTICED INSANITY, ” she amended. a glass of amber whiskey titled to - and - fro in her hand, held delicately as though the slightest disturbance might cause the heavy crystal to fall through her fingertips; glass would shatter and scatter on the marble floors. and not one of these folks would flinch. graceful and gracious, that was the falsities that these people lived and breathed.
charlotte gripped the foot of her glass and spun the liquor rapidly, the whiskey rising and falling just before it cleared the glass’ lip. “ it’s fucking sinister , is what it is. smiles and handshakes. peace offerings and compliments. ” she stood away from the banister she’d been leaning on and began to walk away. charlotte tossed the whiskey into the soil of a nearby house plant. “ whenever they smile, it makes me feel like they know something i don’t. like they’ve already won the game before it’s even started. it’s fucking ugly. no one plays for the sake of playing anymore, ” she snarled out of the side of her mouth. she looked over her shoulder at nox, observing them the way one observes a painted portrait in a gallery ; she saw lines and angles, shadows and colours, power and understanding. “ c’mon, put on your phoniest smile. we’ve got people to flatter. ” / @eidolened .
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i just wanted you to know i think you’re such a good writer, full of creative power, and i’m always in awe of what you do, what you create. you’re a bright presence on my dash and i’m honored to know you.
amanda, every single word you’ve written here means the world to me, thank you thank you thank you. i appreciate you so much, and please know that honestly? LIKEWISE. in all regards. i think you have such a well - refined talent and i’m constantly blown away by the amazing detail and strength of your writing and your characterization of helena. i’ll be honest , i think of your portrayal of death so often... just in my everyday reading or i’ll see a picture or hear a song and think of helena ; that’s how POWERFUL your blog is whoa ! i look forward to seeing you on the dash, always.
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TRAUMNAS.
THE CLOWN WAS SHRIEKING , laughing , noise that bulges from a bloody rictus . jeering and cruel while her tongue singes . the teacup , now dangling after long - tined finger , shatters amid the clamour . allows for all too merciful respite . silence . It glances a mosaic of porcelain pieces , slick still with filmy linings of pinkish - red . unblinking eyes , nearly loose as those strewn over the table , reverse into sockets , glinting and pallid as fish bellies . It raises the handle , hooks it ‘tween teeth , sets jaw to gnash and grind .
those chitinous hands retrieve from the clothed surface , glutting mouth with more , snapping now to pulverize porcelain . ( crunch - crunch - crunch ) they populate Its gums and lips , jutting new incisors , and from their slices mock blood spates forth . grunts , gnars , giggles . It aches not . rabid beast shakes stringy mane . bells cried festively from it . lips close over carnage , purse , then rear back like circus curtains to reveal all remnant is swallowed . all gone !
❝ ━━ they just p - p - pop in your mouth , ❞ lingua , dead and fissured as dry season , laps at maimed chops . talon flicks a stray morsel like a marble ; across the table it rolls wetly , and another , all eyes on her . Its own , void of pupil and iris , gauge her too . ❝ try it . you’ll like it . you’ll love it . won’t be solly , cholly . ❞
HER TONGUE COULD’VE BLED just watching the glass cycle ‘round & ‘round in its maw. her throat was accustomed to gravel and sharp bones . but the taste of those were abhorrent ; if charlotte were to endure the taste of dirt, blood, and dead insects - she had better be being buried alive . then, she’d gladly eat the earth. she’d swallow the forest floor whole! would that make her powerful? would that make her a worthy beast? would swallowing glass and chipped porcelain make her any sharper as a creature? one - handedly, charlotte took the lid off the teapot filled with blood and placed in front of the clown.
then, charlotte stuck out the tip of her tongue. the flesh was sensitive to the frigid air, practically steaming with the exposure because it was overly warm and swollen like a balloon . timidly, she pressed the eyeball to tongue’s tip and waited for taste to register ; but it never did. “ no point eating for the first time if i can’t even taste it, ” she remarked, almost disappointed. she rolled the eyeball between deft fingers, made it vanish , then reappear suddenly as it sat between her index and middle knuckles. “ here. ” the eyeball was knocked into the air, caught midway in its upward flight, and then, tossed into the clown’s bloody maw.
“ next time. i’ll try one next time, ” she claimed, but the word ‘ promise ’ was markedly absent. the tea had turned dark and was bitterly aromatic. she filled her cup to the brim again and stuck her pinky finger in ; wincing when she found it just as hot. a loud scrap caused the house to shudder ; the pawn had dragged her chair closer to pennywise. first, she drew the toppled girl - meat off its seat and onto her lap. she posed it as though it were a doll , then picked up the slicing knife off the table. “ so! i’d thought it’d be fun to kill two birds with one stone, right? you can have your snacks and i can practice my carving skills! ” she waved the knife in a large, general circle about the girl’s torso and smiled at It. “ where should i start? ”
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Mossa
© Forndom
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antialibi:
tonight the mood is char stumbling down a city street shouting take me home country roads at the top of her lungs on a loop. she’s not drunk, she just really loves this song . she’s gonna climb on top of a p.o box and perform
and you CAN BET that eventually she’ll get teary - eyed when she gets to the ‘the radio reminds me of my home far away and driving down the road I get a feeling that I should have been home yesterday’ lines
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tonight the mood is char stumbling down a city street shouting take me home country roads at the top of her lungs on a loop. she’s not drunk, she just really loves this song . she’s gonna climb on top of a p.o box and perform
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J. Hannah
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CRESPUR.
❝ NO. ❞ blasé cadence, the guttural thump of indifference there is no dirty, cringing pain in him for any loss . he held onto the conversation like a vice: intonation thick, & ambrosial like a fine béchamel sauce, : yet this absolute apathy, LIKE A VOID YOU COULD FALL INTO. he quickly shifts in this crimson stool, leaving her with his blossoming interest, & more importantly, facing her directly. ❝ no, nothing like that yet. god willing, right? i don’t think i would react properly if any of my friends died though. i don’t see the point, most of the world is just death anyways. ❞ he smiles. something bone chilling.
❝ you said something about - mm, tragedies happening to you, like exclusively? are you some trauma victim, or something ? ‘s not like you can’t tell me. i’ve talked to a war veteran once, it really helps. ❞
CONTEMPT WORKED LIKE A BLADE ; it carved a meanness into her features that excised what little loveliness or friendliness existed there. shadows hollowed her cheeks and sunk her eyes, her lips seemed to pinch. but disappointment sculpted with softer touches : leaving her looking too human to fear.
a bite of stale, stringy cantaloupe was stuffed into her cheek, the juice beading like dew on her lower lip. her tongue raked across and swiped at those dew - drops as she looked at his smile ; well, no - that was absolutely the proper reaction right there.
“ once, huh? might as well get a business card, man ; TRAUMA AND TRAGEDY EXPERT , next to whatever your name is. ” she swallowed the cantaloupe and it left sticky sugar - water along the lining of her throat. “ i’m not a victim. that’s not what i said , was it? why d’you wanna know so bad? you need a cover story or something? an alibi? ”
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DEATHTAKE.
The answer was not COMFORTING, by any means. The petite little monster shivered with laughter and Amelia’s mouth twisted into scowl. Is this who she was to trust to build her ARMY ? She had no ties to her father, she was not loyal to him but she doubted she was loyal to her either. She was wild, a beast but all beasts could be tamed, could they not ?
❝ Are you gonna turn around and stab me in my back ? ❞
THAT WIDE, GHOULISH GRIN was left on her face although the laughter died away, deforming slightly when the humour left her eyes. this time, charlotte had the decency to simply shake her head. no gang - lord nor mob queen had ever hired her for her bedside manners . but she could try : offer horrific sweetness and the uncomfortable touch of her cold hands.
“ no , ” she insisted and paused as though she wished to elaborate, but there wasn’t else to say. “ i wouldn’t do that. ” the implication lurked like a shadow in the corner of their eyes : i wouldn’t kill you like that .
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