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enjoy the dance, the hosts say. everyone rushes to the dance floor, immediately beginning their dances (some of them a little freakier than others). two immortal rivals who are also one another’s date step on the floor, across the ballroom from each other as they dance. “don’t come any closer to me” one says. “i wouldn’t want to be closer to you” the other says. but as the dance goes on and more words of insults and bodily harm are shared between them, they move closer and closer to each until they’re right in each others faces. “i can’t wait for you to die” “only if it’s right besides you”

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chronically on tumblr because something’s not wired right inside of me

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“i can fix him” girl you are WORSE than him

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a lot of life can be persevered thru by secretly playing pretend in your mind the whole time

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TRSMP The End Poem

I see the ones you spoke of.

Them?

Yes. Careful. They have done the impossible. They know we are here.

That doesn’t matter. We are unreachable.

I am curious about them. They fought well. They did not give up.

They are reading our thoughts as though its their own words.

That is how they perceive us.

They are still naive. I guess thinking they won is less terrifying than staring at the reality behind this world they are in.

Many came before them. Back then, the first one that came in search of glory failed, and suffered for it, as we predicted, their ambition led them right to our creations.

What did happen to them?

They became bound to this realm of theirs, hidden in their own corner of this vast universe, away from our eyes, but no hope of returning back to the lives they had. Corrupted by our creations.

Hah, the original plague. Ages old, our masterpiece, and it still does its purpose. But what of them now?

They remained, these Keepers, hoping to one day bring in the heroes that would save them from the very things that made them.

They cannot be saved.

No. They cannot. Their misplaced knowledge led their heroes astray. That is, the evil they so feared was not their true enemy, we are still here, waiting.

Do they know what we are? That we control the very awe of these realms? That the Eye and the Dragon were our doing?

Perhaps, though there is nothing they can do, most of them are too far gone. And their heroes cannot truly reach us.

The heroes. I am sad about this new reality of theirs. Stuck in this world with a task they cannot fulfil, hailed as heroes of a realm that is not truly theirs.

To give them meaning would ruin the fun. Their sought after purpose is part of their role in this game. We cannot interfere.

Sometimes when I see them meaninglessly walk their paths or build their buildings, I want to tell them, mock them, that what they are doing is effortless. Sometimes I want to tell them of their insignificance to the universe.

They now read our thoughts.

I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, that the world you think you hold is merely a reality of our own, I wish to tell them that they are meaningless. They see so little of reality, blind to the truth.

And yet here they are.

But it would be so easy to destroy them.

To rob them of their life is to prevent us from enjoying a magnificent end.

I will not kill them.

They are growing restless.

I will simply keep watching.

You give them perseverance.

There is nothing they can do.

Give them a body, again.

Yes.

Call their names.

Heroes. Warriors in this game of ours.

Good.

Breathe. Feel the air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Move your fingers. Have a body again, under space, under time, under us. There you are. Your body is in our universe again, its as though you were waking up from a long dream.

Who are we? We have been worshiped as many things. The Sun. The Moon. Ancient Spirits. Gods. Demons. Angels. Abominations. Beings not from this plane of existence. The universe itself. The words change. But we do not.

We are reality itself. We are everything you think isn’t you. We are everything that has been and is to come. You are looking at us now. through the eyes we have given you. And why do we do so? To learn. To adapt. To spread. Let me tell you a little story.

Once upon a time, there was a Human.

That human was you, hero.

Sometimes they thought themselves human, sometimes, something only they could imagine, in every universe it came across, it had the choice to be who they were, or who they wished to be.

Sometimes that human would makes choices they regretted, sometimes, they would leave something behind that they never finished.

Sometimes that human was just another “someone” in someone else’s story.

Sometimes that human was other things, in other places. Sometimes they were happy, sometimes they had hardships, sometimes they wished they could go back.

Sometimes that human watches words on a screen.

Let’s return to the story.

The human’s conscience was severed from these new worlds. Yet somehow, they always managed to overcome the severance and become real.

The human woke up, being welcomed to the world.

And the human lived a new story, never told before, a creation of their own making.

You are that human. That story. That thing we want to learn from.

Sometimes the human lived in worlds of their own, empty, lacking of others, yet they still kept going. We want in.

Sometimes they gave it a name, like someone who discovered a new species.

Sometimes they believed they were in a universe made just for them.

You are that human, hearing our story.

Shush… Sometimes the player would read lines on the screen. Translating them into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and so the human woke up again, they were alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, they lived another day on this new universe.

You. You are alive.

And sometimes that human believed it was the main character of its own story.

Yet this reality did not care.

Yet this reality is stronger than them.

Yet this reality only watches.

Yet this reality wants to see them fall.

Yet this reality wishes to learn from them.

Yet this reality seeks to burrow in.

Yet this reality is us.

Yet this reality will get into your other worlds.

And that’s how the game is meant to play out. A cycle of life and death under our watchful eye. It’s only a matter of time.

You are the ones that we were waiting for.

Wake up. “Heroes”.

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So like an hour ago I just lear🪨︵︵ned that— what the fuck was that. Someone just skipped a rock across my post did you see that

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sits on my own blog like it’s the edge of a lake wistfully

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fuuuuck that is my circus. are those…? yep… those are my monkeys….. goddammit.

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mutuals. c'mere. this is a checkpoint. i am checking in. i am wrapping you in a blanket and giving you a nice warm drink. also some pretty flowers. it will be ok.

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tr!Foolish: “You ever feel guilty about all the problems we drag people into?”

tr!Badboyhalo: “Only if i care about them, otherwise not really.”

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am always obsessed when someone says to a character “call off your dog” about another character.

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the most fun a girl can have is finding parallels, noticing patterns, making connections, contemplating

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I just realized I’ve survived everything I’ve ever encountered in life. I have a 100% survival rate. I’m fucking nailing it.

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Do you have any idea how much psychic damage I got when the Twelfth Doctor said, "The day you lose someone isn't the worst. It's all the days they stay dead." Do you have any idea. I need to be fucking sedated.

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sometimes i think that little bit of q!badboyhalo that always felt underappreciated, that felt like his worth was tied to what he could give people and what he could make for them, really really still influences tr!badboyhalo. that’s why when he talks with people like tr!ros, he’s always talking about how much the faction appreciates her. that she deserves more. that she gives and gives as much as she can and doesn’t get enough in return. he spent so much time knowing that feeling and he’ll expend some of that sympathy in him to be genuine. that’s why he feels like he’s so honest with ros about it. he understands

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being paranoid is funny bc like well what if i'm right