Poisoned Words

This isn’t a romantic story, and it’s not a fairy tale. Forget what they teach you, how to forgive the ones who hurt you and how you should always fight evil with good. This is no fable, you got to survive. And sometimes, in order to beat the monsters that are biting your limbs, you have to become a demon yourself.

I know exactly how to hurt people. I’ve learned from the best teachers: the ones who made, or try to make, my life miserable.

I use this talent ‒ because it is a talent ‒ only against those people. I save it as a last resource for when I know I’ve got nothing left to lose. But I took what I’ve learned from them to the next level: poison.

I know, with an exceptional precision, the right words to hit their heart. I recognise their weaknesses and their biggest fears, and I hurl them right into them.

The very moment I let those words slip out of my lips, I know that they’re never going to forget them. I know how those words will never stop haunting them, and how they’ll sometimes find themselves awake at 3 AM, grasping the blanket as they think about what I told them. I know I hurt them with the most powerful and poisoned weapon to exist.

And you know what the best part is? They know they deserved every drop of my poison.
— i-write-to-voice-my-demonsPoisoned Words
Sep 22 · 1 hour ago · 341 notes


              If only you could just
                  S E E
              Behind the mask I wear
              Instead of   

              For all my lies


||what meme? I’m very curious. Very very curious.

        outofsmiles. I make a point to send at least one or two memes to roleplay blogs that I haven’t interacted with yet (but want to) each week. None of them have been replied to—and this has been going on for over a month, nearly two, and it’s sort of gETTIN’ AT ME. BUT—-YEAH. Nothing specific, no one in particular. I was just mentioning it to Mouse and then that happened.

// licks ur face tbh

          if hate is poison, then love’s the cure
                    and it’s you that drives the demons from my door

[8:36:57 PM] мoᴜѕe: maybe they’re scared of you??
[8:38:34 PM] ɢιɴ: idk tho i mean it’s not like i’m coming in full speed with gin breathing down their necks threatening to slit their throat
[8:38:38 PM] ɢιɴ: it’s more of a friendly meme
[8:38:55 PM] мoᴜѕe: i’mlgdsfGDFGFH

O my enemy.
Do I terrify?
Sylvia Plath, “Lady Lazarus,” from Ariel  (via mercurieux)
Sep 20 · 1 day ago · 501 notes
It is impossible for someone to lie unless he thinks he knows the truth. Producing bullshit requires no such conviction.
—Harry G. Frankfurt, On Bullshit
Sep 20 · 2 days ago · 196 notes

immortalcorrupter replied to your post
omg r u ok—

fear him who can destroy;


He was still fluid, still intimidating in the state of battle, even more so than before. It had been awhile since she’d seen his zanpakuto, but that didn’t dampen the memories—the metal of his sword slicing right through her elder brother with no problem at all. Her gaze flickered down to it, then back towards his smiling face. Tense, she kept her guard up, following his every move with a sweep of her eyes, trembling hands tightening their grip around the end of Sode no Shirayuki. Stay back, stay away—still, these thoughts would not leave her head. She wanted to seem threatening, but the shaking wouldn’t stop. It didn’t look as if it ever would. Her eyes, however, did widen when he spoke again, shoulders almost immediately rising, as if to shy away from his words.

"We—" She swallowed, "We are not the same. I did not betray the Soul Society, they eventually saw in the end…" Rukia trailed off there, silent for a moment. What was the point in arguing with him, really? She had intended to stay quiet, there was no need for senseless banter.

Stop it—

Killed someone. Killed someone, he said. “You…!” Her voice was shaking, it didn’t sound strong at all. His words were getting to her, slithering their way into her mind before she could stop them. It was a frightening experience to be around this man. “Be quiet. Do not speak ill of Kaien-dono…” Even if he hadn’t said his name, she knew where he was going. “We are nothing alike. Stop attempting to compare us. You’re a murderer, a traitor.”


"What good have you done for anyone?! For the Soul Society?!" There, she paused, lips parted and eyes narrowing into a harsher glare, "I will not allow you to walk away." As an enemy of the Soul Society, he must be subdued. And so, Rukia would be his opponent in the end. Quickly, she raised her own zanpakuto further holding it outwards, she began to spin the blade, "Dance, Sode No Shirayuki—" It would not end like last time.

She’d make sure of it. With one motion, she stabbed her sword into the ground, calling out, "Juhaku!" This caused a thin trail of ice to shoot straight towards her target—that being Ichimaru.

        What good has he done? Hah! Nothing, nothing, ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ—and he never would. Soul Society be damned, all that mattered in the long run was whether or not he could send that man six feet under and seal the exit. If it meant he needed to dig two graves then so be it, but he was by no means doing so for the sake of the Soul Society.

        She knew so little in terms of labeling him as a murderer; who had he killed in front of her to earn such an accusation? Perhaps after giving her a peek at his worthiness to be called such via a wondrous demonstration with her life, he’d take to visiting her dearest brother to further illustrate the thought as she cried from the great beyond. Maybe then she’d understand the depth of the bile that she spat and with all of her might wish that she had chosen something stronger.

        Ooooh, emotions, emotions~! She was going to die because of her emotions.

        He breathed a chuckle in response to her obvious turmoil and attempted resolution of such—anger, how typical. She could shout away the words he spoke, but all the more did it let them flow into her bloodstream and take a hold of her heart. Murderer; did she not realize that she also qualified as such? Honestly…the sloppiness of her words made him wonder if it was either denial or repression that cloaked the ache within her.

        It was all a matter of who would break first—their stances (or his apparent lack thereof) were a testament to their strength of will; his, utterly lacking in nervousness, and hers….well. He could taste the tremors that ailed her with the flick of a forked tongue. And when she finally broke forward with a surge of ice and snow he all but jumped for joy in the instigation of their little game. The blur of his person was only temporary, and he proceeded to land lightly to her left at a sensible distance (considered ‘safe’ and ‘out of range’ for any typical fighter, but still she stood with red and white circles surrounding her form to Gin thanks to his ability).


        Shinso remained hidden, poised for the perfect lunge from the concealment of his large sleeves. As far as concerns went—Gin knew the fears of fighting an ice wielder very well. Unluckily for Rukia, he already fought and succeeded in surviving (and outsmarting) the stronger of her type. Hitsugaya wasn’t much to fuss over when he was flailing about, emotionally compromised, because of his wounded friendship with Hinamori. Was Rukia to share the same fate? Mentions of Kaien were already seeping into her; openings would surely flow from her in due time.

        Nonetheless, he dove for the first and most sensible opening presented to him thus far; the opening that revealed itself after any initial attack. Given his dodging of her ice, he directly followed up with a quiet hiss of a command which, upon leaving his lips, launched the lunge of his zanpaktou. Shoot to kill, indeed, as it tore directly through its cloaked dormancy within his sleeve and towards her left ribcage at an angle that promised pain and damage at the highest of levels (her heart, her heart, oh, she needed to learn to better guard her heart) should it pierce her.

— victory in defeat.


          "I guess. The fact that he cares enough to go out of his way to try and cheer me up is really what did help, though."

          Just the fact that she had people that cared about her and were concerned about her happiness was enough for Rangiku even on her worst days. They were what kept her going — that and her own hope and optimism that she was strong enough to face whatever the world decided to throw at her.

          "You don’t scare me," she replied immediately; and it was true. He didn’t. Now, the persona that he took on whenever he decided that acting like himself wasn’t enough to get the job done was a whole ‘nother story. But she wouldn’t get into that right now — her answer was good enough.

          “Obviously everyone else is a different story — but that’s because they’re too hateful and judgemental to see past appearances…”

          The Lieutenant gradually fell silent as his rage became anything but. It was different than her Captain’s anger. His was all consuming, suffocating even — and while Gin’s could definitely be the latter, to her, it was much sharper than that. She couldn’t help but be reminded of his Zanpakuto when she witnessed his fury, contained or not. It was so condensed, so quick and lethal and so deeply rooted into him that she wasn’t sure if it could be separated from him at all.


          The question left her lips before she could stop herself, and Rangiku even held her breath as it hung in the air. Don’t pry. But how could she not? She needed to know, she craved to understand just what Aizen had done that was so horrible that it deserved this amount of hatred from him.

        Oh. She wasn’t afraid of him, was that it? Was that why he was able to choke her and get no more than a gasp from her, no more than a slight fight for air—for control—because she felt no unease when she was around him? Because she had no walls to defend herself; she didn’t think it necessary to do so? If she did, they were feeble and crumbled as sand did with the oncoming tide. Weak. He tried and tried and tried to make her step backwards when in his presence but still she managed to go against all odds and step forward——

        Hell, it was hard enough to continue acting like he wanted to hurt her when that was the furthest from the truth—with the added fact that she was bearing down on him with enough sincerity to make him question who he was—he couldn’t keep lashing out forever. He didn’t want to. He didn’t have the strength to anymore. So he let her comment roll against him with only mild disagreement.

        Her next query, however, did not go so easily neglected.

        “——'Why?' …Rangiku, have ya met the guy?” He let that explain itself; who could argue?

        Aizen was outwardly evil enough to leave hating him unquestioned, no one needed to know Gin’s personal past and connections to Rangiku and Aizen just to understand that he disliked the guy—Ichigo went by the same logic entirely and there he was, being supported, by the entire world essentially, for his choices. While Gin was no manga protagonist, he didn’t find it fair that he needed ten times the justification to back up his actions in comparison. Then again, since when did he consider himself worthy of fair treatment? He huffed another laugh and shook his head.

        “That’s really all there is to it,” he lied, and he did so smoothly. “I jus’ don’t like’im. Figure it’d be real useful ta get rid of the guy that wants ta destroy th’ Soul King, right? It’d do us all a favor. It’s not safe ta jus’ have’im locked up.”

Elegant Rose - Crosshair