#Dollia C.

[bugzcrunch]

What We Could Have Been

03.6.2023

Do you hate me for missing him? The abuse? I was so blind to word, a beck and call and so afraid to harm and disappoint. I fault for nothing, every single effort in vain just like before. Suddenly, however, I’ve become the bad one, something I still don’t know how. Maybe I think too much but this boy, in school, he smells just like him. His touch is so gentle though and he holds me and smiles, to him I am a gift. He’s sweet and maybe oblivious but I enjoy his touch and company. He’s already resorted to calling me his boyfriend, do you spite me for it my love? I have no control it feels, and I have no voice. It will end in heart break, that I know. All relationships seem to, this will be no different, but will you still love me the same? I’m frightened; admittedly—of being taken advantage of again. I find myself paranoid and breaking, there’s no way out and I am lost. Please guide me, I’m useless without word and I’m worthless without someone else giving me a purpose. I am empty without others. I allow my everything to be so utterly controlled what if this sweet boy realizes this too? I want to love him, maybe. He would be nice to love and gentle for once, an innocent puppy love that I was never allowed to experience. His hands are gentle, and his words are too, he calls me Hunny and dear. I’ve never felt more enticed. Maybe it is wrong of me. Maybe without knowledge everything I do is wrong. I maybe make mistakes without realizing, please please. Please I'm afraid. What if I'm as horrible as I believe? I have done no wrong, I am conscious of every word and decision I make but what if it is truly despicable? What if I have committed an atrocity? My silence is loud but my words are deafening, I’m unsure which evil is the lesser. Ignorance is pure bliss but bliss becomes painful, I find myself overstimulated and crying. I want to run back to the abuse, to feel loved. My normal is harm and dishonor, I do not respect myself or my body enough to be used even at my most vulnerable hours. Even while I sleep, I feel his hands on me. I feel his body. I’ve never regretted loving someone before, trusting them. Whether a lie or not, I will never recover. I know this is what he wanted and its exactly what he achieved. I’m sure he’s proud. I am sick. I am ill. I am—perhaps for an instant—dying. Being hazed and cross faded, sold, smacked, run away, and more I have destroyed the one thing I took so much pride in: my body. It is ruined and I am done with it. I’m done with it all. My love , if you had been real I imagine you caressing my cheek and wiping my tears as you coo to me. Maybe you even hum and rub my back, dig your fingers into my most sensitive spots to feel me melt beneath your touch. I breathe fresh air with you and it stings. Maybe you’d lay me down with your hands in my line of sight, turn on tv and rub circles into my stomach and skin. For every mumble, sniffle and whine you kiss me and whisper my cares away. Be gentle with me for I am breaking and fragile. My hinges are broke and whine with each motion, I cannot fathom fixing something that’s been apart of me for so very long. Just love me and I will think you are a God amongst men. This perhaps will be my downfall. If my downfall is for you however my love, I would willingly splatter against the pavement and still find parts—even pieces of me in your arms.

A devoted, fragile follower.  

[laura-the-yellow-cat]

Dollia the She-collector My New MSA and TOH OC Enemy, later Friend

Full Name: Dollia the She-collector

Nicknames: The Little Girl from the nights, The Little Girl's Play

Gender: Female

Profile pic

Age: 11

Blood Type: C

Occupation:

Actual or Past Occupation:

Favourite Shows/Games: Horror/Fantasy/Adventurous/Survival

(Coraline Movie and Game, Poppy Playtime Game, Hidden Objects games, Annabelle Movie, The Walking Dead, Emily Wants to Play Games, Horror Movies)

Friends:

Enemies:

Instrument: N/A

Favourite Animal: N/A

Species: Shadow Ghost (befored), Human

Alignment: Bad, later Good

Likes:

Dislikes:

Goals:

Weapons: N/A

Powers and Abilities:

Skills and Abilities:

Skin Colour: Violet Blue with light yellow on her left eye

Eyes Colour: Dark Violet Blue

Hair Colour: White and bright light lavender

Clothes: Half of Light Yellow and Dark Blue long sleeves shirt, skirts, pants, pjs clothes, dark night socks, Moon logo

Shoes: Ballet shoes

Accessories: Beanie, Moon and Star, Stars, necklace with Moon and Sun of half

Face Making: Moon and Stars

Hair Styles: Amity's Hair now new looks purple hair of The Owl House bob cut hair

Dollia the She-collector belongs to my new msa oc enemy, later friend

@sfcabanasstarcgs and @mysteryideasgroup

[bugzcrunch]

What We Could Have Been

03.1.23

Dear Luc,

I don’t know how I’m meant to feel about you. But if this helps, I'm content to continue. I’m just hurt. You know why I’m like this—why I struggle. I wish you were real. I love you; I do. I wish this were real. Today is a day of clarity. Why? I don’t quite know. I'm sorry my love. Surely your heart aches.

03.3.2023

Dear Lucian,

Do you know my aching? I feel myself shriveled and become a husk of what I once was before you, this agony is indiscernible. I’m unsure where my misery starts and where I end in its grasp.  

Your less willing victim

03.4.2023

Do you miss me? Do you ever spend long nights wishing and dreaming of me? I know I do. I long. I ache. So badly. Think of me, my bad, and still find it in you to love me. To want. Desire. I beg you.

Something with no discernable meaning.

[bugzcrunch]

What We Could Have Been

02.28.2023 x2

Dear Luc,

I think of you always my love, when I wake and when I rest. I always have you on my mind at all hours of the day and at night you consume my dreams. Your voice soothes me and makes me ache for something more. For you. If not to kiss you but to just glimpse you. I want to experience you for all you have to offer. Should I kneel and beg for you, before perfection? My feelings, dictation only further winds itself into eternal conflict. You’ve doxed me beyond para’s desire. You’ve entangled me in you, fiber by fiber, atom by atom: Strip me bare and cover me with yourself. Make me indistinguishable from you. I don’t want to begin to think of where you or I start and where we stop. Let’s never end.  

Your eternal love, devoted and eccentric  

02.28.2023

I’m falling apart. I want to love. To be loved. I'm coming undone with grief of past lovers. Hate is abundant but my desire is greater. I do not love them, no. I love what we should’ve had, What I thought we had. What they told me. I let others coach and define our relationship; I now realize I’ve never called shots just followed. I let them tell me what we were instead of what we actually were, a disaster. I was stupid and vulnerable. I still am. Oh my love, please be different. Don’t lead me, vulnerable and lost, astray. Please treat my heart kindly. Treat me kindly, and tenderly. I need to be loved without conditions to say if I am “deserving”. I need it. Please.

Bunny.  

[bugzcrunch]

What We Could Have Been

02.25.2023

The human existence is torturous and long without you here. Kiss me and wash away the worries like a tsunami. Crash over and coddle me, suffocate me and silence my mind. Muffle me and glide.  

02.27.2023

Darling spirit in me, in hope and love please endear me with you and your grace of holy darling desire and obsession. Please my love, spite and batter me. Need me so and I will kneel before you. Batter and tenderize me, make me soft and bloodied. Devour me, vicious wolf. Snarl and I will turn belly up, throat bare, ready to answer to your teeth's beck and call of my skin—my flesh so delicate it tears. I rip for you. I shudder between you and that stare. My animalistic joy. Hunt me, I will fold.

Your lamb

I am yours to have and hold. To ruin. (-Your victim)

[bugzcrunch]

What We Could Have Been

02.24.2023

It is that of a peasant's desire to crave your love and affections on me, in my soul and imprinted in my being. Your voice scorns me and haunts my psyche, I wonder towards what I can only describe as gods' words to find your face amongst thousands directing me, sultry and deliberate like leading a lamb to their slaughter. You are desperate to draw me on and taste me if not for just a second, devour my flesh and grin. Teeth coated so freshly, and my being stilled back tightly between daggers, you pick me out and spit me out. Spit me out and rumble, deep and low in your chest spite me. I know you won't, instead you lift me so delicately and whisper such beautiful nothings to me in lusted and sultry want and desire to keep me to yourself. Covet me and maliciously endear me with your being, imprint yourself so deeply in my life its unbearable without you. As soft and kind as you are I search for anger and malicious intent in your eyes and only find sweet, glazed candy and soft kisses in return. You are a wonderland, a playground of delight. I wait, you lay in silence to strike. Strike me, come from the shadow I have convinced myself you lie dormant in and hurt me like I deserve, like the rest have used and nurtured me into their preferred cut of meat. Why do you lie in wait and wonder, eyes hooded and brooding? Shake me back to this reality where your eyes are kind again to me and your words, your fists even more so. I am delusion in ways that you are no more worse than the ones before you but in moments of clarity, the days and mornings I wake up to your peace, holding me needingly to your chest by my torso I find it in me to realize you are a new love. I still wonder, I stress and worry. Your hands are gentle but callused and ruined with work and passion of your design. If only you’d sculpt me, but you claim I am already chipped by the gods and polished by legend, there is no better he could do—he is inspired by my history. He is ruined by his own design and builds palaces of dreams, if only he’d be ruined by me so inspirationally that his hands tremble at the cuts and yet he still eyes me as a masterpiece when he is finished with my finest edges. Why are you so kind? I search for a familiar violence behind your gaze as you look deep into my eyes, and yet I find none. Taint me. I crave violence, the glint of a knife I still feel pressed to me now from then. Your soft frightens my battered sense of security. For what if you change, to ruse me and gain my trust to trash what little of “me” I have left to my shamed and damned name? Secretly, I wished for your tenderness each night crying for salivation from harm and now obtained I selfishly look back to previous abuses and sigh with desire. You have done right by me, but I am too sick not to miss the illness now that it is treated. Sicken me, darling and I will spill my guts at will. Do you understand (now)?

When I call, when and why will/do you answer? If not to humiliate me, to mend the cracks and quivering in my tone?  

[bugzcrunch]

What We Could’ve Been

02.23.2023

Dear Lucian,

I miss you. Things are hard right now. I’m sick, my voice is gone and I’m a mess. I crave your touch and tender kiss, your teeth on my throat and hands on my body. I love you. You’re my medicine and my muse. Be my voice, my love. Please. In sickness and in health as you’ve vowed to me even under sheets, in dark and whispered tenderly against my skin. Your lips stain my skin, teeth engraved into my bones. Covet me. Soften my bones, harden my heart, and shatter my being with that look so deep in your eyes: wanting and hungry. That gaze. I shudder. I quake and rumble with delight to be devoured by you. Picked apart and savored, served hot and needing. Love me. Have me, all that I am: I am yours in full. So, fill yourself with me, take your fill and ache. Let me rot you. Decay you and break you down. Let me pick you like you undress my being: Clothes, skin, tissue, and more until I’m raw and bare—expose me for all I am and still find it in you to love me—without artificial beauty and flimsy, filler traits. I fawn personality to impress but without you I’m nothing. I’m void in full and you in present. I’ve devoured so deeply I might burst with you, yet I still go back for more. I am ill and shaking of you. I am hot, plump, and ready—ripened for you. My skin rests your tired jaw and fits into place as you trail me. Devour me so I can fill myself more, let me stuff myself stupid—give me room. Give me space inside my crowded, meaningless self. Let me be absolutely delirious of love. I’m void of substance, “me” ’s I cannot claim to own, those I don’t (yet) know. Who am I truly without you there? Your guidance and grace? Your eternal word.  

Your devoted, precious, starved lamb <3

02.23.2023

Bite and tear me, your lamb—your prey—demands it. Bow, salivate, crave, and cease from me. Slaughter me. Please, my lord. You drive me mad. Need me, want me, please my dear. You’re all I have. Desire me more than your need for air. For the moon, sun, or earth. I am desperately more important.  

[bugzcrunch]

What We Could’ve Been- Chapter 1

02.21.2023

Dear Luc,

I miss you. If only you would come to me, pure and tender. Always know I love you; you are unmistakable in your beauty. Beautiful black hair, green eyes, tanned complex, freckle kissed skin, and infection smile. You are grace and beauty. You are strongly built, fastened to this life of tender love and hard work. You are truly unlike any other, I confess—heart and soul in absolute mind— I am head over heels for you. You swoon me; I find myself delighted by you. I am captivated by you. By all that you are, I desire you. I need you so deeply it hurts. Your smile is smart, bright and sharp. You strike me down. My heart breaks we will never truly meet. As made up as you are, you are more than real to me, my love for you Is real. You are precious and perfect. You will never hurt me, never leave. I need you more than words can express. Love is tragic and lusting in all ways tender and real.  

I crave the love we have in others to which I will never find. My heart bleeds for you. Soften me even as you ravage my every waking thought and moment you plague me. I ache for your return to me beyond imagination and that I one day lay with you—if only once.

With tender love, your muse