Like Not To Exaggerate But Im So Tired Of Second Best, Second Highest Grades Tumblr Can Wait Man I Am

like not to exaggerate but im so tired of second best, second highest grades tumblr can wait man i am locking in 😭😭🫸🫸

cute little heads up that im still v much on hiatus and idk when the next piece of content is coming out bc im literally holding on by a thread here 😁😁

cute little heads up that im still v much on hiatus and idk when the next piece of content is coming out bc im literally holding on by a thread here 😁😁

oh um. ew

just made coffee for the first time in my life. its 2:55 am. the coffee is lukewarm because i microwaved it and it's also watery because i don't know the proper ratio (YET.) it's turkish delight flavoured and i can't stand turkish delights but here we are. i'm drinking it through a a straw. also there is a cockroach here with me. i don't have any way of getting rid of it in any sense of the word and we have been vibing together for 15 minutes almost. he doesn't move a lot and i think i am attached to him now. oh wait. he just moved when i went to check on him. does he hate me

i have a lot to say............. 🫂🧠🫀💿🌷🪻🌻💧🍬🕹️🕰️🥊🍁🐚 <- this one especially BC WE'RE WRITTEN IN THE STARS!!!!

THATS A LOT ILY !!!!!!!!!!!! also like yes.. i thought of u when i saw the last one :3

again and again (and again and again) ༺ choso kamo

wc : 1.2K content : soulmate au, reincarnation trope, victorian era, vampire au. no use of y/n. fluff. angst.

·:¨༺ he would recognise you in any universe.

“death’s kiss,” he murmurs.

it makes sense. he is sure you are an angel.

i do not…

the cool edge of the blade rests along his throat. the slightest pressure would spill him open. but there is already a fissure threaded through the centre of his soul. he has spent his entire life coated in a thin layer of ice and the passage of a hundred mindless years have drilled into him needle fractures, powdered glass. hunched over his gaping wounds, alone throughout the ceaseless turnings of the earth.

i do not bleed.

“be silent,” you hiss. there is hard fury in your eyes. unlike him, you will not shatter. “your honeyed words will not sway me from my task. i swear to you i will see it through. you may have deceived countless before me, but not i. your refusal to devour in the ways of your kind means nothing to me. i see through the weakness of your facade; i name you for what you are - i know you.” 

i do not bleed as men do.

“you mistake me. with you, i would wear no facade. and my words have no more sway over you than that of any mortal; that is entirely on your part.”

“liar.” 

but as for my love.

your sword digs deeper, inking a line of sluggish dark red along the pale expanse of his neck. the metal burns against his skin. it holds no candle to the burning in your eyes. the soft popping and crackling of the fireplace, the light acclamation of the rain on his windows, the scent of burning parchment; the world has receded.

i swear to you i would love you anywhere, would know you by the shape of the world as it reflects in your eyes. i would race the creeping shadows to your sunset. i would find you at the end of the world. i would tear down the sky to cloak your warmth in the indigo night. i would form you again from the dying light of the stars. i would rage against the entropy of the universe.

“monster,” you breathe. “you do not even bleed as men do. death is a mercy.”

“as a man. as a man. i do not bleed as men do, and i am not a man. but i love as they do, and even more than that, and yet—”

“do not speak to me of love,” you spit.

“why? what do you fear?”

“you know nothing of it.”

his eyes search yours. honey brown. heavy. grieved. “i have lived long enough to see the death of stars. waiting. and do you know what for?”

“devil’s spawn - i care not…”

but your hand trembles, betraying you, etching jagged lines deeper into his bared throat - yet he does not flinch.

“for you,” he breathes. “for you to wake up weeping from a dream you cannot remember, with the tears long-dried on your skin in such a way you thought you’d crack in two. chasing a warmth akin to sunlight, like a memory long-forgotten. hands that frame you, that cherish the shape of your soul, that hold you together, and a murmured vow, for we fall apart but we are all the pieces.”

his breath fans across your face. you cannot remember closing the space between you. perhaps there never was a distance at all. there has always been something drawing you to him. bloodlust, you had thought. vengeance. passion. your life has never felt more complete than at this moment, with your blade to his neck. but the slightest brush of your knuckle against his skin is setting you alight. and it is not the imminence of his death that is rendering you whole.

this is not how it was meant to be.

“you feel it too, do you not? the familiarity…”

“i feel nothing,” you grate out. 

sweat beads on your forehead, drips off the tip of your nose. his hand slowly rises to cup your face. his thumb brushes dry the damp skin under your eyes. someone in you is weeping. pleading.

“if i were to die at your hand i would love you just the same, i swear it, but i fear what that knowledge may do to you. so lower the blade, my love, and do not doom yourself to any further grief. you would have killed me already had you wanted to do so. my love, you have done so well - so well in coming this far - and i am so, so sorry…”

his voice breaks. there is pain in his eyes, something raw and fresh and agonising. you cannot stand the sight, but it is not disgust that twists your heart.

“this time around has been the worst of all. i have been forced to live a thousand unwanted lifetimes, and none of them with you, and all of them with the burden of hope. never did i know whence you would come - from which era, in which form… and now you are here, before me, with a face i have traced, and a voice i have memorised, and a look in your eyes i know better than my own name. and you know me, too, as i know you.”

your vision is blurring; the blade slips harmlessly out of your loose grasp as you stumble into him. he catches you in favour of regaining his own balance, grip firm and strong and sure, and your palms are flat on the carpeted floor of his library on either side of his face and he stares up at you. his lips form your name—not what you are called in this world, but something deeper, truer—and you swear you have not heard it before but there is a crystal resonance all through you, like things falling into place.

“please,” he begs softly, weeping. “come back to me.”

and you see it, then, give in to the yearning of your heart and the aching of your soul, and ages come and pass before you—despairing hands reach for a gauzy veil, slips, water; a sweeping curve, a cloak; a cupped palm, a face; time, years, our place—moments, ages, intangible warmth; seconds, lifetimes, minutes, a soft caress of sunlight, and a whispered promise—you, i, that is to say, we, are infinity.

when the dizzying realisation fades, your face is pressed against the steady beating of his heart, fisting his shirt in sharp handfuls, exhaling in shuddering rasps.

“i know you,” you rasp, lifting your head to rest against his - and you name him, finally, name him for what he is. “choso. my love, my love, my love. i am so, so sorry—and to have kept you waiting for so long—”

“it’s not your fault,” he murmurs, smiling, even as tears stain his face and blood dries on his skin. “we have found each other, now, and we will find each other again, in every universe. i would wait a thousand lifetimes for a moment by your side.”

“i know.” 

you kiss him, deeply, passionately, until your head spins. his arms come around you to hold you closer, to tangle in your hair, to cup your face. whenever you break for air you breathe his name into his skin, again, and again, and again, fearing to forget.

choso. my love. my life. my soulmate. choso, choso, choso.

not death’s kiss, but life’s.

somewhere, somehow, something has aligned.

— ; i js think there's smth tragic abt the reincarnation au. but each time, one person is doomed to remember.

i was gna make the reader kill him but i fear i am not built for that level of angst

I already made a poll with this post but I'm gonna make another:

I made this one a week but I'll probably decide id ther3s a huge difference from one and rhe others