violenthunted

[violenthunted]

been unactive for a good while now. if you want to have me on dash again, it's @violenthunt <3

[violenthunted]

been unactive for a good while now. if you want to have me on dash again, it's @violenthunt <3

[violenthunted]

been unactive for a good while now. if you want to have me on dash again, it's @violenthunt <3

[violenthunted]

been unactive for a good while now. if you want to have me on dash again, it's @violenthunt <3

[violenthunted]

got an internship in a game studio to do some writing, will probably get kicked out of school bc im too disabled to follow classes in their "super accessible super adaptable schooling" (meaning: ive got asthenia from having to mask all day in a class where im Constantly bored, and that means i gotta take a nap one day per week).

love when the world is like. heres a cookie but half of it is Literally garbage

[violenthunted]

[ REVOLUTIONARY LETTER #26 ‘ DOES THE END JUSTIFY THE MEANS? ’ this is process, there is no end, there are only means, each one had better justify itself. To whom? ]

[violenthunted]

the day people stop getting pressed about other people's plotting... nature will heal

[violenthunted]

press ❤️ , get memes

[violenthunted]

my toxic trait is creating a new verse for ishtar. developing her too much. feeling like she's a new character because she's so different from og ishtar. having to somehow incorporate her in my muse list without making it too obvious she's just ishtar number 5.

[violenthunted]

good soup

[violenthunted]

she is worried; every game is the same in that aspect. a new girl is given to her, doll made beautiful only to be martyred a few days later. there is cruelty in that, of course, for that is snow's design. & all bianca has to do is lose her girl to the arena, in quite the same fashion she lost parts of herself years ago. nikolai never quite knows how to be with her in those moments, only that he needs to be.

nik watches the young girl, only to hum his agreement as he stands close to bianca. yes, that girl has something others did not have. hunger. he thinks of snow, of the capitol, of the way they made the games more violent, more hopeful and more terrible all at once. the tragedy is that only one is meant to live; but all tragedies make good stories. and the fact that all are doomed, whether they live or not, makes for even better ones.

he knows all are doomed, even the ones who make it out, because bianca has been sleeping in his arms for years. she still wakes up, skin damp and teeth bared, a knife against the fragile skin of his throat, as if she were thrashing in the mud of the arena, as if she had never left. now that ishtar stands in her place, nikolai cannot help but be reminded of how young bianca was. how helpless she should have been.

perhaps that is why he never wakes up with fear. why, when she presses the knife, he knows to place a gentle hand against her cheek, and that when she snarls, he knows to murmur sweet words. thank fucking god for her terrible heart. "she reminds me of you." is the words he settles on as he watches her go for the bar. alcohol is the way to get through it, but he will refrain from engaging in it. today is bianca's day to tremble and it his to remain tall.

the butcher. what an accurate nickname. and yet all the girl does when the horn sounds its death sentence is run away toward the forest. he quirks a brow but says nothing. instead, he watches as she runs away from the slaughter only to find a tree. it is a tall one, and he has no idea how a small girl could possibly climb it-- and yet she does. palms bleeding, she finally settles on a branch that a fall from would mean immediate death… and again, fucking arrogant kid, she finds a camera and smiles to it, before simply sitting back against the trunk of the tree and closing her eyes. "she's going to drive them all insane." & perhaps that is why she has the slimmest chance: the kid knows who's holding the knife and who's holding the chains.

he takes a step toward bianca. "habercromty." he murmurs immediately, only to wonder why he is the one he thought of. the explanation comes a second later, "he loves the underdogs. he will do anything to fuck up the narrative of the games." his personal vendetta against most of the judges makes him a bad ally to have, most of the time… but he is so popular within the wealthy capitol scene that a whisper for him in favor of a tribute means gifts in abundance. "get him on your side, he is the bigger fish… and hardest one to catch. i'll get others." the beloved of capitol having an actual favorite tribute? that tribute being his wife's? oh, it will make people talk… and what best way to get people's eyes on ishtar than to have them whisper about her mentor.

THIS IS THE ROOM WHERE THE LIGHT WON'T FIND THEM.    only darkness awaiting at the end of the tunnel,   each layer a new, unprecedented dark.   arms crossed on her chest, a stern gaze locked onto the massive screen.   as she watches her protege on the platform,   teetering between life and death all bianca can think of is how it felt to stand there:   cold breeze on her skin, taste of rain in her mouth.   both fresh and both unreal:   like it happened yesterday & like it is a dream someone else had.

nikolai stands beside her, just as intrigued,   studying her like as if he is trying to deem her worthy of survival or ordinary like the others,   another cannon shot in the dark and a hopeful face in the night sky before it disappears.   “ there's something in her eyes, nik. ”   she mumbles, gaze faltering and yet still on the screen.   ishtar's ice cold gaze pierces her, even in the face of death.   “ that girl is no lamb. ”   she reaches for the elegant bar-   courtesy of capitol, not one thing missing from the feast as the mentors are supposed to be celebrating for the death of their descendants-   fingers slip around the glass of bourbon.   it burns through her throat,   and the slam of the empty crystal on metal tray echoes like a death sentence.   “ she's the butcher. ”

she turns to the man- the apprentice,   who sew the cuffs of her silk dresses at 17 with shaking hands, now her husband.   “ she needs sponsors. who do you suggest i go after? ”   marriage changes nothing for the fame of nikolai lantsov, as he will be the beloved of capitol and the heartthrob of all panem for the rest of eternity.   bianca can hardly blame them.   sometimes it feels unreal to have him, even with the diamond on her finger.   “ you've always been spot-on with your wealthy snobs, love. give me something for ishtar. ”

[violenthunted]

there is always a bitter taste at the back of his throat the day the games begin; it usually means death within a few hours, because girls from the 12th district are not meant to last. they are easy victims, discarded quickly enough by career tributes with something to prove.

this girl isn't quite like the others though. ishtar. her face is plastered across the screen, blue eyes wide open and mouth a line of pink that won't become a smile or a sneer. she looks… bored. "damn", he murmurs, more to himself than to the woman next to him. the words will find her anyway; she is too on edge not to pay attention. he knows the spectacle of it will attract eyes: why would a young girl from one of the poorest districts not be afraid of the hunger games? does she not know she is meant to die like an animal, slaughtered in the name of a war she never fought in? they will call her stupid and clueless... but they will watch, in hopes of seeing her fall. we always root for the little girls to be sliced to pieces, once again reminded of where they stand. "you taught her well, darling."

ishtar stands on the edge of the platform, waiting for the voice to announce the beginning of the slaughter. all the other tributes look distraught or eager; ishtar looks like she is about to yawn. how fucking arrogant. his smile is a meager thing, but it is one nonetheless. "what a demented strategy, @infernocte. you surpassed yourself."

[violenthunted]

lydia's smile is a bright thing, pressed against pink glossy lips. calculations happen behind dazed eyes, but they remain quietly hidden at the back of her throat. they never wander off past her lips. pretty girls don't think too hard. pretty girls smile & smile & smile until cheeks hurt. they giggle at appropriate times & never show their teeth. it is all difficult planning, to be a pretty girl.

sometimes, lydia wonders if others find it as difficult as she does, but then she reminds herself that there is no one like her! pretty girls are only pretty girls as long as they find ways to crush the competition with five-inches heels. "gilbert", she sing-songs, approaching the poor orphan / former pretty-girl / newly crowned pity party chick. her smile is sharp and tantalizing ; both a curse and a blessing. "come, we have to catch up!" it is not an offer, considering their arms are now linked up & lydia is taking @cipress to… well, wherever it is that they will be seen chatting. pretty girls love giving a good show. "i've seen you with the salvatore boy. i want the deets." seriousness, now, or something akin. "all of them."

[violenthunted]

SENTENCE  STARTERS :  ALONE  WITH  YOU  IN  THE  ETHER  BY  OLIVIE BLAKE 

PART ONE, BEFORES

❛ they see you closer than you are, but you’re further from reach than either you or they can imagine. ❜

❛ what are you thinking about today? ❜

❛ maybe tomorrow, everything would be different. ❜

❛ take me home, stranger. ❜

❛ maybe we should break up. ❜

❛ you’re one of those brainy fucks, right? ❜

❛ your future self will always see what your present self is blind to. ❜

❛ cigarettes are extremely out of fashion. and they’re bad for you. ❜

PART TWO, CONVERSATIONS

❛ you’re obviously a very good liar, ❜

❛ if i were a liar, wouldn’t my lies be extremely valuable currency to me? ❜

❛ i don’t think we’re really capable of loving the things our parents love. ❜

❛ can you make this less like an interview, please? ❜

❛ the point is, you’re observing me too closely. ❜

❛ i was formerly a thief. ❜

❛ did you get the lies you came for? ❜

❛ you want to puzzle me out like a math problem. ❜

❛ crime doesn’t make a person complex, everyone has a history. ❜

❛ do you want me to leave you alone? ❜

❛ i want to see what you see. ❜

❛ are you interested in me? ❜

❛ i’m not trying to predict you. i’m trying to understand you. ❜

❛ couldn’t you predict me if you understood me? ❜

❛ i like it, your brain. ❜

❛ right, one impossibility at a time. ❜

❛ i wasn’t really thinking about you, to be honest. ❜

❛ it’s very… austere, isn’t it? ❜

❛ i could study you for a lifetime, carrying all of your peculiarities and discretions in the webs of my spidery palms, and still feel empty-handed. ❜

❛ don’t hold hands with anyone ever again. ❜ 

❛ there she is. queen of chaos. ❜  

❛ don’t worry, you’ll fit perfectly. don’t worry, there’s nothing here for you to break. ❜

❛ there, now it looks like somebody cares about you. ❜

❛ there is nothing worse than being predictable. nothing smaller than feeling ordinary. ❜

❛  so don’t speak. just stay here with me, just breathe. ❜

❛  haven’t you been paying enough attention to run? ❜

❛  don’t go, just stay. settle over me like the tide, cover me like a blanket, wrap around me like the sun.❜

❛ i think that, for someone to get close to you, you must have to give them one key at a time. and even then, only one level can be opened at once. ❜

❛ you know, it’s poor form to accuse a lady of lying all the time.❜

PART THREE, KEYS

❛ do you imagine things? Is your life a dream or a chart? ❜

❛ come closer, let’s see what happens, let’s see how the stars shine on your skin. ❜

❛ i know you’re not stupid. that’s the worst part. ❜

❛ all this time we’ve been talking and you’ve been syncopating your breath to mine and your pulse to mine and your thoughts to my thoughts, you’ve been learning how to love me, haven’t you? ❜

❛ if i am a lover of impossible problems then you will have loved me for my impossibilities. ❜

❛ what else matters but this, me, us? ❜

❛ am i imagining this? ❜

❛ i want to see your art. ❜

❛ this night is stolen, i want grand larceny and this is petty theft. ❜

❛ austere. it’s a cold word. ❜

❛ you have never understood beauty and all the worse for you, you never will. ❜

❛ i am more addicted to the thought of your name on my tongue than i am to any other form of vice. ❜

❛ the thought of having you is more dangerous than any cocktail of drugs, the idea of belonging to you endlessly destructive. ❜

❛ it’s a fire. i used to burn out, now i just burn.❜

❛ his name is written on my skin, he scarred me. ❜

❛ you just seem like you’re looking for something to overwhelm you.❜

❛ you can’t fix me. ❜

❛ i don’t see anything to fix. ❜

❛ thank you for the shape you took in my life but it’s over now, it doesn’t fit. ❜

PART FOUR, FIRSTS

❛ something is wrong with us, we are unwell, no one has ever felt any of this without destruction. ❜

❛ empires have fallen like this. ❜

❛ my god, what a waste of time doing anything else but holding you. ❜

❛ jesusfuckingchrist what have you done to me? ❜

❛ go on, ruin me. wreck me, please. ❜

❛ am i the girl who stays while others leave? ❜

❛ i love your brain.❜

❛ can you love my brain even when it is small? when it is malevolent? when it’s violent? can you love it when it doesn’t love me? ❜

❛ i’m going to tell you my secrets. ❜

❛ come home with me. ❜

❛ i want your future, i want it for me. ❜

❛ i’m going to replace those memories, i’m taking them back for me. ❜

❛ i want you to say everything, anything. i want to have your thoughts, i want to bottle them, i want to put them in my drawer for safekeeping. ❜

❛ jesus, we’re fucked, aren’t we? ❜

PART FIVE, VARIABLES

❛ come outside, come look at the stars. ❜

❛ i worry that if you try to keep up with her, you’ll burn out. ❜

❛ you’re wrong about her. ❜

❛ ether is what they called the air in the realm of the gods. a shining, fluid substance. ❜

❛ you poor thing, what a curse. i wonder which god you angered.❜

❛ you can’t just live in your past lives. ❜

❛ so this is what it is to love something you cannot control, it feels precisely like terror. ❜

❛ i thought you’d be sick of me by now. ❜

❛ every time you love, pieces of you break off and get replaced by something you steal from someone else. ❜

❛ yes, it is perilously wonderful to suffer so sweetly with you. ❜

❛ can’t you see how intangibly i exist, and how perilously? ❜

❛ will I always fear him as much as I love him? ❜

PART SIX, TURNS

❛ you really haven’t changed, have you? ❜

❛ you can always undream me, unbelieve me. ❜

❛ i’m strange, okay we’re both strange, nobody understands us except for us. ❜

❛ you think i don’t know that there’s something wrong with me? ❜

❛ i think you need me more than you want me. ❜

❛ there’s a difference between cravings and compulsions. ❜

❛ i love your brain even when i fear it. ❜

❛ have i already destroyed this little fledgling thing i tried to nurture? ❜

❛ whatever you are made of, i am made of it, too. ❜

❛ it isn’t pretty, it’s lonely, it’s desolate, it’s a chilling portrait of vastness. ❜

❛ she does burn me, she ignites me. ❜

❛ she is my hope and for that she is dangerous, unequivocally, but she is also alive, unreservedly. ❜

❛ it’s you and me right now, stranger ❜

❛ it’s you and me alone in the ether, and you don’t even know it yet. ❜

❛ this is what it looks like to love you; it looks like an abyss. ❜

❛ all falls come with danger, but not us. not us, we float. ❜

❛ because you and i, we are so different, aren’t we, and yet we are more like each other than the rest of the world is like us. ❜

[violenthunted]

what if i kiss u on the mouth. what then

what if we kiss and i turn into a toad and u have a toad wife. what then

[violenthunted]

oh btw im late to the party and honestly this goes beyond saying but. since i just saw a post. if you're a zionist or pro-israel i invite u to block me right now :)

[violenthunted]

it is all quiet, except for the rise & fall of ribs, the unnerving sounds of life (breath & heartbeat colliding) filling up the space left by silence. were you in her position, you would find no trace of life ; you would see rocks & plants and call the place desolate. yet the girl knows. prophet of forgotten realms, she knows of a time when the earth was not so dormant, so quiet. she knew of her as a girl, lips chapped & smile bigger than the sun.

"@appleyed", she says, and in her voice there is no urgency. time has abandonned them a long time ago. death would not know how to claim them -- or even if anything is claimable. "we need to move." a truth & a lie: we, a thread between them painted in red by blood. need, a human concept loosely attached around their necks. facsimile hanging, made possible by sheer proximity. again, a whisper: "come on, old tree." it is very possible that trouble found them because while one was sleeping with the earth, the other was chasing away the sun. one, the dormant wind. the other, the unforgivable cold.