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#fanfic
I created a character named Ali, Who had a quirk called "Empathy." Her mother was killed in front of her, And she was trained and beaten for years. She was forced to **** hundreds of people, Despite her own tears. She could feel whatever someone was going through, With a simple touch of her hands. As she grew more powerful, The feelings, she could gently sense. She fell in love with an explosive boy, Who filled her troubled life with joy. The biggest tragedy and irony of Ali, Was that, despite all the heroic things she did, She always hated herself for what she was, Even until her death. She never saw herself as a hero, Merely repaying old debts. Writing her was a journey, And it hurt me in the end. For bits of her are part of me, The painful, but necessary, empathy. The need to help everyone else, Despite the hurt to myself. I love to write, And the characters I create, Impact me deeply. I thought you might like to know about them, Starting, of course, with Ali.
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Jan 28
Jan 28, 2026 at 10:38 PM UTC
The Empathetic Assassin
I was cold, dark, broken. Not in body, but in mind. Light and love were privileges denied to the likes of me. Blades, bruises, blood, breath...that was all my existence. I was nothing but a shell, a shadow of death trained to **** I was the night. She was warm, shining, healing. Her spirit shone like a crimson flower. Her hair was the glowing sunrise that woke me and the fiery sunset that called me home. Soft, sweet, scents, snow-white skin beneath rose-red locks. She was alive, vibrant, trained to love life and save it. She was the light. One touch. One act of compassion, an emotion I didn't even know I had. One act of forgiveness, a foreign sensation that shivered over my skin. A whisper. What's the point of chasing after her? Protector. That was what I became. No longer tasked to take life... But to save it. Guard it. Guard the girl with herb-stained hands and a soft heart. I was no longer me. I was me, but also... Her. I am the knight. Her knight. And I will do anything-- Everything-- To keep her light alive.
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Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 7:33 PM UTC
The Knight and his Healer
and my fingers will trace these scars on your chest — they're no fault lines but darling, i can fall and fall and fold myself into wildflowers on which sunlight unfurls. but this world, it's a battlefield and red roses bloom not from the soil but from the skin and every death feels like the first. every kiss feels like the last. and darling, tomorrow, we have all the time to be broken. we have all the time to grow up. but tonight, let me hold you close; my hands are weary of writing elegies. tonight, let me drown in your seastorm eyes; i am tired of looking for temporary ports and for all the wrong shades of blue. tonight, i will read you poems about a girl named helen, who loved despite the war. tonight, the world can crumble down and i can stay right here, safe and sound in the comfort of your sighs, like a girl resting against bruised lilacs. i can stay right here watching you sleep until the earliest hours, forever asking myself how can someone so ****** so broken by this world possess this much softness. this much gentleness. this much peace. regardless, rest your weary bones, my love. morning still is far away.
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May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 9:55 AM UTC
hermione granger
“maybe in another life, louis,” i finally said, staring off at the distant city lights and buildings, feeling the cold creep insidiously into my bones. his name easily rolled off my tongue like a reflex — a muscle memory so deep-seated and yet so strange and unfamiliar now. silence filled the air and yet, at the same time, it was filled with other things — defeat, heartbreak, resignation, the sounds of vehicles speeding off. the pain gnawing in my gut. the regretful yearning. the need to just be stupid and reach out for his hand. the pain of knowing i couldn’t. the finality of the ending. and yet, here we stood, too close and too far. he nodded and stirred lightly, as if preparing to leave. my gaze shifted into his direction. his movements, still slow and graceful, and lit by the moon. it was almost too painful, almost too delicate, almost too poetic. i could still remember what falling in love with him was like. i could still remember him breaking my heart for the first time, until the time where there are no more pieces left to break. and i would’ve done it all again. he finally spoke, bringing me back to reality. it was almost too soft, too weak, but i heard it. “maybe in another life.”
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Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 10:24 PM UTC
a litter of excerpts
He was tortured for months Lived worse than in hell. Nd after all those tryings When he finally broke free, He couldn't bring himself To peace again. "you need to face your demons to fight them" So he went back to the town He was held captive in for months, Not expecting to meet the demon of his nightmares Again on the same road he first met him. "I can't bring myself to hate you" "you've made me like this.....you've made me to like this" So he decided to give his captor All the hell he went through. Not because he wanted to wrong The other, But because he wanted to give His forced unconcious feelings A reason to be satisfied. But for the demon The hell was not really hell. It gave birth to a heaven In his heart. They both knew it They both loved it They both loved each other.
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Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 11:43 AM UTC
Decalcomania
i couldn't stop staring as the coffee dripped from her lips she hooked her thumbs under her belt loops, resting her palms on her hips i admired the curls that fell atop her forehead, feeling the glowing sensation as my cheeks burned red her name was sweet, like chocolate on my tongue and the only thing i could compare her to was our everlasting sun -PJM
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Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 10:42 PM UTC
coffee
By profession, I am good at waiting I am used to the cruelty of human upon human wounds of wars and words delicate deceits that brush lips with skin and skin with finger - prints like him, I look at bodies and see stories I see bruises and scars that conceal secrets I can read crimes as clearly as if they were written in blood across the scene this game should be beneath us he is cruel and offers a chance, smaller than anything I’ve seen on a microscope slide but still, breathing existing, taunting leaving me breathless and broken it squeezes my heart as if the blood inside is a poison that needs extracting my once logical mind quivers under his kiss and empties he is the **** that grows beneath a flower until it is too wild to ****
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Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 9:44 AM UTC
Careless Cruelty
A hospital roof top – the world swelling like a broken limb beneath him breathing the air tastes of car fumes, ***** – people with their feet covered in the dust of life for a moment my heart imagines he is going to jump jump away from the plan I trust myself enough not to trust him
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Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 9:43 AM UTC
Promises
a gun - shot wound to the heart breathe - just ******* breathe he won't lie still, and the red pool reaches nearer reaching like a hand towards me at my feet I stare at it and remember laughing we didn't laugh often I'm not like that but we would succumb occasionally I remember the feel of his hair - the way the roots felt as I brushed from them with my fingers my fingers remember the touch of his coat the scratchy, uncomfortable fabric why did he wear the ******* thing? the scarlet stain has reached my toes now I fight the urge to place my hand in his I need to focus He needs to - focus please, just listen to my voice put your heartbeat into it into me control control control he is becoming heart - less why has he chosen me to save him? twice now he says I matter the most but it's ******** he doesn't want me he wants my skills to find a body and fake it to wait years no - two years in silence so heavy I feel like my lungs have collapsed and now to pull him through - back through the cavity in his chest to force the blood back into his breaking body whilst my hands shake with fear night terrors and the shape of his face as I drag him (back to life) by the roots of his hair
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Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 9:41 AM UTC
By The Roots of His Hair
I take tea in the afternoon as I wait to hear his foot - falls approaching I am on edge until they kiss my ears in their heavy booted sound I add sugar cubes distractedly, as my mouth adjusts to the taste of him a heaviness on my lips, upon my neck, the scratch of a scarf that looks softer I imagine the scratch of a vampire fang to be worse, and breathe in and out my prayers that at least he is by my side before nightfall he is a thing of paleness and impatience, I am a woman who works the dead into shapes that speak we both seek answers but know they will not be found in the arms of each other yet still, our hearts beat as one
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Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 7:18 AM UTC
Black, Two Sugars
Tomorrow is a new day unwritten The next page of           my           own book of life As I hold up my ink pen,                            you meet me there? At the midpoint betwixt                  lumen days and umbra nights As the world is itself,                                 made of evenfall rides into the veil of grey.                                         Let the songs sing high, and sorrow sing                                         low but be so sweet that I'll feel                                           you in my soul I await you on                                       the  bridge, Kissing-sweet                                so come    and meet me                          there
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Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 2:38 AM UTC
⚫♡❤ Meet Me There ❤♡⚫
Comparing her With the other girl Same face Same taste She's funny And nice The other one is cold And fierce They have the same voice Same voice but different tones Kind of similar But will always differ Once upon a time This little girl was so nice The other one is cold as ice Suddenly, everything changed in a blink of an eye She disappeared Drifted away, faded Left them behind Left him behind She left just before the spring came She left just before the winter vanished She left the night before She left the night after a precious day She left without saying a word She left without saying goodbye She left at midnight Cold, but has a heart of fire Snow, Snow Please come out Snow, Snow Please stop hiding Winter, Winter Stop trying Winter, Winter You don't deserve him Suddenly, Spring came And everything changed Everyone changed Just like how the season changed Let it snow, let it snow, let it sno- Wait Was it still Snow I see? Or Spring Who creeps the hell out of me? 4 years had passed But the feeling It's always there They won't just go away Hey King What would you choose? Winter Wonderland Or Let it Snow?
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Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 6:36 AM UTC
Winter Snow Tale
what is this before us           --this sick and twisted thing           where I'm in love with you           but you're in love with him? i just can't let it go,           this feeling that I have;           so I do something dumb           and seek the one you love. but as fate would have it,           now he's in love with me;           thus, we find ourselves here           in this affair for three.
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Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 2:34 AM UTC
'tis twisted