#I scream into the void and if it answers I'll only see it on a recent post idgaf

[mintytrifecta]

I've gotten to the point of social media posting where I don't even register to do it for recognition I haven't checked my notes in like over two months

[shadowbriar]

Bob Reynolds — Catalyst III

Pairing : Robert "Bob" Reynolds x (she/her) doctor!Reader Word Count : a lot. Warning : Thunderbolts spoilers. Sets during Bob's Project Sentry era. Mentions of medical procedures. Italics mean they're in the void. also, i haven't properly checked this draft so idek if it makes anysense. i'll update soon for the necessary revisions. Synopsis : For once, he actually let himself grow comfortable in the gentleness of another. Notes : sorry it's taken forever for me to update. work is beating my ass. drop a comment if you'd wanna be tagged for future chapters! please donate to my kofi so I can get a new laptop and write properly cause drafting though phone is hell, i tell you.

↞ Part II

There's something seriously wrong with this place.

The flickering of lights now lasts for minutes, long enough to give her quite the dizziness from the flashes of light, and small quakes have been happening more frequently than not. Each time such abnormality happens, she prays that Houston would come barging through the door with his wicked grin, eager to brag about the milestones they've achieved with Bob, yet it never happened. Which only makes her grow more wary.

What kind of tests could they possibly do now to Bob? Are they still following her test plans for Project Sentry, or have Houston changed their course entirely? Is Bob safe, and okay?

The fear in her heart only grows as the quake gets stronger, powerful enough to make her bed move. Perhaps it wasn't Bob who was doing all this. Perhaps they were just having an earthquake.

"We have to go,"

Houston finally runs through the door with a panic-stricken face. His hair was dishevelled, his stethoscope gone from around his neck, and the radio on his pocket was loud of frantic screams.

Gunshots were heard from the outside as Houston left the door open behind him. The panic she felt when she first found herself bound to the bed was only amplified, even though Houston was freeing her off it. Something is harrowingly wrong.

"Abort, abort!" someone calls from the radio "we're losing people, abort!"

"Houston, what's going on?" she says as she finally found her voice to speak.

"It's Robert," Houston answers with a conflicted face. His skin was layered in sweat, breathing laboured, and the look on his eyes was far more traumatised than anyone she's ever seen before "he's gone rogue. I don't— I don't even know what to call it. He's killed people— turned them into dust,"

"What— how—,"

"I don't know, he was just fine yesterday," he answered, hands still busy untangling her binds "this morning, when we drew his blood, he was being quiet—too quiet, even for Bob—and when he saw me, he just— he just started turning people into dust,"

Her brows knit, appalled beyond words as she tried to understand his words. She was still glued to the bed even after Houston freed her, too stunned to make sense of the situation they're in. How could Bob even do what he said? He would never hurt anyone, let alone kill them. Something must've gone horribly wrong to have drove him into this catastrophe.

"Kid, we have to run!" Houston yells as he stops by the door, waiting for her "let's go!"

She quickly got on her feet and headed to the door, running just a few steps behind the older man.

"Where's Bob now?" she asks, panting.

"Last I saw him, he was in my lab. We planned to do some chemical tests with him today to see if he's got any reaction to the substances we've prepared, but before we could even start— Kid!"

Houston's words hung in the air as she sprinted the other way, heading to the stairs to get to Houston's lab. She refused to believe that Bob was causing this much of a disaster unprovoked. They must have done something to him, triggered something in him that they haven't even understood yet, and accidentally unleashed such an apocalyptic incident with Bob being the centre of it all. That would be the only logical explanation to this nightmare, and she would never forgive herself if Bob was to be responsible for something he couldn't even control.

So, she ran up the stairs, fighting the burning of her lungs and how the cramps on her muscle were getting more intense from the sudden physical activity. Her vision was starting to blur, but she couldn't stop now, not when Bob needs her to put an end to this.

When she reached Houston's lab, the glass door that would enclose the place from the hallway was shattered to pieces. Black shadows painted on the wall, and there were bodies lying on the floor. She could see Bob at the end of Houston's lab, sitting on the patient bed with his back facing her, head hung low as if he was defeated.

"Bob?" she calls slowly, walking to him with cautious steps "it's me.. I'm here, Bob,"

Bob didn't move nor say a word.

"Bob, I— I just want to talk, okay? I'm not going to hurt you," she says again, her hand reaching for his shoulders "I just—"

There was a breeze of cold air against her body before she opens her eyes and found herself in her lab. The place was eerily quiet, cold to the point that it sent shivers down her spine. She looks around, puzzled as to how she would be in this position when she was just losing her breath trying to help Bob a minute ago.

"Do you feel any pain right now, Mr. Reynolds?"

She turns to the source of sound, feeling even more baffled to see herself and Bob by the patient room.

"No," he answers, looking down to the many cables attached to his chest right now "and— uh, please don't call me Mr. Reynolds,"

"Okay, what would you like to be called then?" she asked as she fixed his IV drip.

"Bob, please call me Bob,"

"What's going on?" she whispered softly, walking to the patient room. She stops to see her other self's pad, noticing Bob's charts that were still messy. His biometrics were still a nightmare. Low blood pressure, irregular heartbeat, all of these were her initial notes with him.

"Okay, then, Bob," her other self nods, putting her hands in her coat pocket as she speaks to him "I've seen that you've got quite the history with substances, and since there have been cases where patients grow certain level of drug resistance from substance abuse, I'm going to have to keep a close eye on you,"

"No, wait—" she tells her other self once she realised what was going on "stop this!"

Bob looks at her other self in silence. Neither of the two is aware of her presence nor shouts.

"Look, I'm not here to judge or snitch on you to anyone. I just want to make sure that you're okay and will be okay," she smiles softly "and since we'll be seeing a lot of each other, I figure we might as well be friends,"

"Friends..?"

She nods, giving him her first name, "I'll call you Bob, and you can call me that. And since we're calling each other by our first names, technically, we're already friends,"

"You're back,"

She snaps her head to the voice, finding Bob, who's now standing by the patient bed with a tired face.

"Bob—"

"I think I'm gonna pass out," Bob cuts before losing his consciousness, collapsing before she could catch his body.

—-

Her whole body was sore, but she wouldn't trust anyone with Bob alone, even if it was just for a minute.

Bob has been unconscious for twelve hours now. Houston has been checking in on him every hour, giving her the updates on the "clean up" upon his laboratory as well. They would need to write to families of those whose lives were lost today, make reports about the incident before the news spilled to Val and there's nothing left to salvage, but all those things would need a steady and calm head to do, and she couldn't do that without knowing that Bob is safe first.

It took hours of back-and-forth argument before Houston was convinced not to neutralise Bob while he's still out. Convincing Houston drained all her energy, adding to the fact that she had just run and climbed the stairs just to find Bob when she's been strapped to the bed for days. She was drained, fatigued to the point that she might just collapse from the emotional and physical strain, but she couldn't afford to leave Bob. Even if it's just to take a thirty-minute nap.

"Still not awake?" Houston asked as he comes in the room.

She shakes her head, "Not even a twitch on his finger,"

Houston sighs, looking at her with a pitied expression, "You look exhausted,"

"Brilliant observation, Houston," she muttered, running a hand through her hair "why don't you let me know when you've noticed anything new, hm?"

"You should get some rest," the older man answers, ignoring the sour commentary she spat to him "I'll watch over him,"

"And have you injected him with some other altered serum? No, thank you,"

"I'm not going to hurt him," he sighs in vexation, his patience going thin with everything that has happened "even though, I still think we should neutralise him while we can. There's no telling what he's going to do when he wakes up,"

"Wow, you just made me trust you a million times better than before, thank you,"

Houston clenches his jaw, standing by the edge of Bob's bed now, "What do you plan to do with him?"

"I don't know," she answers honestly "I just need him to open his eyes first and tell me what he feels. If he's in any pain, if he remembers anything that would help me decide on how to help him next,"

She watches Bob's sleeping face closely. He looks at ease, so peaceful and calm as if he's having the best rest in his life. His breathing was steady, chest rising and falling at a lull pace. There would be no telling that he's just unleashed such horror to this building a couple of hours ago from how babylike he's sleeping right now.

The question as to what she would do next with him has been running in her head like a trapped bee in a glass, buzzing with no mean of escape even though it feels as if the answer was already served in front of her.

She knew that the right thing to do would be to follow Houston's plan, to eliminate the threat while we still have the upper hand. But is Bob really a threat? Is he really the monster that they need to fight with their swords and pitchforks? It is a shame that lives were lost today from whatever it is that's happened with Bob, but was it something done intentionally, or was it something out of his control?

"I talked to Val," Houston speaks again, earning a snap of turned head from the unexpected news "I didn't tell her about what happened here. Not yet at least. She had more urgent news to share,"

Her brows furrow, "What kind of news?"

"Project Sentry has officially been shut down. She's to be on trial for impeachment over suspicion of human malpractice. It's messy back there in the US,"

"What— what does that mean for us?" she questions "for Bob?"

Houston shrugs, "I'm not sure, but for now, she just said to keep everything under wrapped. No more trials, just hit the brakes and stop whatever is yet to be touched,"

She turns to Bob, worried for his fate.

"I've never sent her his reports, you know," Houston confessed "honestly, I never thought he'd survive the trials, so I never bothered to compile his reports, but after seeing you care for him, I felt like I didn't have the right to report anything about him,"

She flashes Houston a smile, thankful.

"But, Kid, you need to draw the line," he reminds gently "we've lost lives today. Lives who mattered just as much as your patients do. We can't risk losing more lives if it's just to save one person,"

"I know," she mutters softly before nodding to Houston, taking a deep breath before she makes her promise "if it ever comes to it, I'll do it myself,"

Houston shows a conflicted expression.

"He's my patient, Houston," she tries to convince him "leave him to me,"

The older man nods. He leaves the thick folder of Bob's files on the bed, along with her ID on top of it. As bitter as it is for him to admit it out loud, kidnapping her and keeping her away from her laboratory was a mistake. Perhaps they could've prevented all of this had he not kept her away from Bob.

She looks back to Bob, watching just how still he now lays on the bed. She reaches for his hand, holding it tight to help him feel her presence. His hand was warmer than how she last remembered, and it made her feel a little at ease to know that he's doing better, whatever it might mean now.

—-

Bob's eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room that only amplifies the pounding in his head. His whole-body aches, like he's just been stomped by a herd of elephants. He looks around the room, noticing that it was a different room than the one he's been assigned in for the past weeks. He was about to rub his eyes when he noticed the gentle hold of his hand.

He looks down to see her head resting next to their intwined hands. She was asleep, mouth slightly parted from just how evidently tired she is. Her other hand serves as a makeshift pillow. Certainly, a bad condition to sleep in, but she doesn't seem to mind the uncomfortable position.

Bob's heartbeat rises, and he hopes the beeping of the monitor wouldn't wake her. He tries to take deep breaths, hoping that it would calm his nerves, but the desire to touch her was making it hard for him to remain collected. He takes a nervous gulp before moving his other hand, hovering it above her head for a few seconds as he debated if he could pat her.

Gently, Bob lowers his hand and placed it on top of her head. He feels the strands of her hair on his calloused palm, softly patting her head in hope that it would bring her better comfort, but it only made her awake from her slumber.

"You're awake!" she exclaimed, scrambling from her seat and jumping to see his monitors. She started to make notes of his data, mumbling to herself about his condition. Her worry filled eyes were staring back at him with that sense of gentleness that is in contrast to how stern her tone was "are you in any pain now, Bob?"

"I— No," he answers with a little surprise from her frantic reaction "I'm sorry to wake you up, I didn't mean to,"

She shakes her head, sitting on the edge of his bed as her hands start to do some checking up to his face, "Your pupils look normal, no foul colours to your eyes,"

He remains silent, his chest constricted a little from her alert manner.

"Any strange feeling anywhere?" she asks again, starting to listen to his insides with her stethoscope "any ache, tingle, anything?"

"No, nothing," Bob answers, looking at her with an almost pleading eyes "I promise,"

She nods in acknowledgement, finally letting out a sigh of relief as she slumps back to her seat.

"You're back," he notes with an uncertain tone.

"I am," she nods with a small smile before sitting back straight and leaning closer to him "do you.. do you remember what happened, Bob?"

"With your disappearance?"

"No, not with my disappearance," she answers, looking conflicted on how to piece to words "do you know where you are?"

"Not really," he says as he takes a look around "I don't know how I got here, either,"

Her brows furrow, "What do you last remember?"

"I don't know, I—," Bob says as he tries to recall his memory, massaging his temple as the headache starts to creep in "I only remember getting up, and the nurse strolled me to Dr. Houston's lab,"

"I see.. Anything else you remember?"

"No," he shakes his head "I did something bad, didn't I?"

She kept quiet, watching him intently as she tried to think of the best way to break the news.

"I always forget things after an episode," Bob continues with a guilt ridden smile, sighing in shame "what did I do?"

She shakes her head, smiling, "We don't have to talk about that now—,"

"No," he cuts, nodding to give her the assurance "tell me,"

She tries to read into his face, tracing the degree of his vulnerability that she could risk with. The guilt he feels was dripping out of him, thick like blood spilling out of a wound. Her hand reaches for his, holding it gently in hope that it would soften the harsh truth she's about to share.

"You went rogue," she begins "I don't know what truly happened. I didn't see it myself, but— we lost lives today,"

Bob clenches his jaw, his chest getting even tighter from the news.

"Houston said you turned people into dust," she continues with an uncertain tone, almost as if she was questioning him "I don't know how that happened, or what may have triggered it, but that's about what happened,"

Bob retreats the hand she holds and starts palming his face with both of his hands. His breathing laboured, shoulders moving up and down in a shaky way. He was crying.

She watches in silence as he crumbles. His sobs were getting louder, body shaking from all the guilt weighed on his shoulders. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him that it wasn't his fault, but she knew white lies won't cover the damage done. No bandage is big enough to close the wound he's bleeding from, and it pains her to know that this is the one injury she could not help healing of.

"I just wanted to help," he says with a hoarse voice "but I only ever make things worse,"

"Bob—,"

"You should kill me," he finally looks up, eyes bloodshot from the tears "end this before I hurt anyone else,"

"No—,"

"Please," he begs "you can't fix me,"

"I don't want to fix you, Bob, I want to heal you," she says softly, holding his hand "I want to help you,"

He forces a smile, "There's nothing for you to help. I'm beyond saving,"

Her defence broke as he uttered his surrender. She pulls him into a tight embrace, rubbing his back and whispering assurance to his ears. Bob chokes from the sudden gesture, completely shattered as he buries his face to the crook of her neck.

"I'm sorry, Bob," she whispers "I'm sorry for everything. I should've never injected you with those serums,"

Bob continues to weep in her embrace. He's too emotional to make out of a word, too drained to think of an argument to say over her self-proclaimed regret. He holds her close, afraid that she would evaporate if he let go. She's the only anchor to sanity now. The only light to his even darker life. And though he felt like he didn't deserve her kindness, Bob would be selfish for once because if he was to lose her again, God knows that it would be a dark path of no return for him.

Taglist: @babybabygrogu @wqrzew @minnieminnieee1 @youdontknowe @jesterlaughingstock @idohknow @foreverchangingmind @heartcower @mquituisaca @artandpunishment @x3zerochanx3 @yujyujj @baylegend6 @websterss

[lizardsfromspace]

We still think of celebrity callout posts as these sprawling documents with link after link, but increasingly, they involve no citations or links at all. Just people asking "is [name] a bad person?", being told "yes", and saying, wow, I'll make sure not to support them anymore. Which is excusable if they know each other, but people will just ask the screaming void of the internet "can you decide if this person is evil or not for me?" and then accept the yes/no answer they get unquestioningly

This makes it difficult to find The Proof, since it's so often a trail of vagueposts about someone's vagueposts of a discourse they witnessed second hand, and when you get to the source, it's often just embarrassing. "Everyone is doing this" gradually turning into "some people are doing this" until you discover the whole furor was sparked by...some random person's tweet with one or two likes. Days of rage based on something very few people, including most of the people angry about it, ever saw. That's part of why people have gone complete citationless, but also let's face it, when people with a deep parasocial hatred of a celebrity look into them and don't discover anything, they didn't go "ah well, nothing to see here". They would make shit up or take minor incidents out of context to make up a narrative anyway. Fully removing the sourcing and making it purely about vibes really streamlines the process

But I think it's more fundamental since in my experience - both personal and witnessed - people who do this genuinely just seem confused when people ask for sources. They get hostile to the idea that people won't just accept that someone's an irredeemable monster off being told they are with no elaboration. It's nice to think people are so trusting they've naively forgotten that, y'know, people can lie or be wrong, but really, they know, they just don't care. Because these people by and large don't have any real beliefs beyond Disliking The Same Famous Person, and will accept anything said about them into their mythology, and only spend time in a circle of other people obsessed with the same person & don't realize no one knows the mythology but them, and so don't really get why you'd ask for a single citation. What, do you support them? You monster. You're supposed to hear that, yes, they are evil, and then spend time in a bubble of constant dislike of them, where you commiserate with the other obsessive stalkers about how awful it is that pop singers are mad when you obsessively stalk them

[lokisprettygirl]

Light into the Darkness (Bill Skarsgard! Eric Draven x Female Reader) (Horror Romance) (18+) (70s AU)

Read Chapter 8 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 9

Summary : You try to learn more about Eric's past.

Warning: 18+, Sex, Verbal degradation, blood drinking, menstrual sex, oral during menstruation, Reader is depressed, blood kink, smut, reader has plethora of insecurities, she's passively suicidal, she's in her thirties (for some of you that's a warning I guess), when I say alternate universe i mean it

You didn't know what to say, you didn't even understand whether he was being truthful or not. Did he really scream into the void for help just the way you did? Did he really summon someone the way you summoned him?

“Somebody came for you?”

You asked him so he gave you a smile. He truly wished he could have told you everything but then he couldn't have, he was bound by the curse.

“Somebody did. Yes”

“Who?” you asked as the curiosity peaked.

“I can't answer any more questions” you sighed, you should have anticipated it. He kept to himself more than he shared with you.

“Well then I can't trust you Eric, you have already hurt me enough with your lies” you raised your voice again as you spoke, feeling frustrated by the secrecy.

“I understand. If you want me to leave i will leave”

“What happens after that huh? You'll just disappear? What happens to the bond?”

“We will be bonded until the death frees our soul from each other”

“So I'll literally have to die..like Susan brown and others to get rid of you?” you chuckled, your words were harsh than you intended them to be, they pricked his heart but he didn't let it show.

“I'm afraid that is the only way”

“And then what? You'll be all pretty again.. looking for your new victim until history repeats itself??”

Eric didn’t flinch at your venom, though your words cut deeper than any blade could. He looked at you quietly, his eyes hollow.

“I didn’t choose you,” he replied, his voice low “Fate did. I only wake when someone cries loud enough for something the world can’t give them. Something… I once begged for too.”

You wanted to stay angry. You needed to. But his words crawled under your skin, you were angry but you didn't want him to leave, even his scarred skin and bald head didn't make you want him any less. A part of you ached to make him sit down and take care of him, to tell him that he wasn't hideous or ugly, that it didn't change how you felt for him but all the secrets he has been keeping made him untrustworthy.

“Did you feel anything for them? Any of them?” you asked, voice becoming less angry and more somber.

Eric’s gaze dropped, and for a long moment, he said nothing. When he finally spoke, his voice was nearly a whisper.

“I tried not to,” he said “It made it easier when I was no longer pretty and they started to look at me like I was something they needed to run from”

“So you didn’t love them?”

“I didn’t let myself love them, the first time I woke up I was still grieving Evelyn, with Charlotte I did make an attempt but it was futile, the moment she saw me like this she screamed, I learned my lesson” he said, meeting his eyes to yours again.

“And it's the same with me isn't it?” you asked, heart pounding in your chest.

“I have never had this conversation with any of them before. What does that tell you?” you turned your face away at his words, ashamed of the way that stirred something in you.

“I’m not strong enough for this,” you said. “I’m not some saint. I get scared. I get cruel”

“I don’t need a saint,” he said gently. “I need someone who sees me. Who wants to see me, even when I'm not worth looking at”

You glanced at him, and for the first time, you noticed how the last remnants of his former beauty were slipping away. The sharp cheekbones had begun to hollow. He didn't look like the man who had emerged from the dark that first night but his eyes were the same, the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you was the same.

“I don't want your memories to haunt me the rest of my miserable life..” you said as you sat down on the bed, feeling exhausted “But I need some space”

He nodded before he disappeared like he always did. As he left you took a deep breath and laid down on the bed, you should have felt some sort of relief but the moment his scent evaporated from your surroundings, the longing for him set in.

Space ..that's what you had asked for but without him you didn't even know how to fall asleep. You knew it won't be easy moving forward with him. Were you really willing to live such a life? Have a creature like him stay bound to you forever?

How long will he be able to survive if you don't feed him your blood? Will he go back to the darkness if you ask him to leave?

The thought of not being able to ever see him again hurt you in an indescribable way.

You tried to distract yourself, spending the day at the hospital, going out for a movie, reading whenever you were alone but none of it brought you peace or comfort you desperately seeked.

Maybe this was how it was for Susan brown..maybe he was being truthful when he said that it wasn't him haunting her but his memories, his touch.

On the third night when you were done torturing yourself you lit up a single candle and placed it on the nightstand to let him know that you missed him.

The flame flickered from the slight breeze that was coming from the open window, casting long shadows in every corner of the room. You pulled your knees to your chest, eye closed, chin tucked down as you waited for him to appear.

And he did, quietly, the first thing you noticed was his scent. As you opened your eyes you saw him standing in the corner of the room, like a scared child who was afraid of being shunned. His posture was so different from the confident suave man he used to be, he looked fragile now. As you looked at his face you noticed how those scars had now covered his face completely, erasing every bit of the beauty you were accustomed to.

He was skinnier too, eyes appearing even larger as they bulged out. His vintage clothes were now torn and tattered too.

You tapped the side of the bed, to gesture at him to sit, he looked at you hesitantly as if he misread your invitation but then you gave him a small smile so he stepped forward, pulling himself out of the shadows of the corner, he sat down at the edge of the bed.

“You lit up a candle for me” he spoke, his voice was still the same.

“I did.. I missed you”

He let out a shuddering breath at the admission, a part of him not wanting to believe that you missed him after seeing him like this. He finally turned his head to look at you, you crawled on your knees and scooted closer to him, as you placed your arm on his shoulder he flinched a little bit he didn't pull away.

You finally reached to cup his cheeks, his skin rough beneath your touch but he felt it, he trembled. To your surprise his monstrous form somehow reacted more humanly than his perfect self ever did. Maybe it was because he was no longer hiding the truth from you.

“You must be starving” you murmured as you scooted even closer to him, the candle light casted warm yellow halo around your faces, softening even his sharp features.

It would take some getting used to, staring at this changed face of his but you didn't really feel any different than you did before, his skin has changed but he hadn't.

“Why do you still want me?” he asked in a manner as if he didn't believe it.

“Would you discard me if I lose it all tomorrow? Every physical thing of mine that you find sensuous..if tomorrow it's all gone .. would you leave me?”

He gulped as you questioned him, trying to find the insincerity in your words but he couldn't.

You knew he was capable of loving, he loved someone so much he screamed into the darkness to bring her back, he cried for her every night, now you knew that he wasn't just a creature of the night, he was a man once, a man who loved deeply, he had a heart and you wanted to reach for it.

His fingers wrapped around your neck as he pulled you closer,

“Do you want to extinguish the candle? In the dark you can pretend I still am pretty”

Your heart clenched at that, not for what he’d become but for how deeply he mourned the loss of his beauty, as though it were the only part of him ever worth adoring.

Perhaps that's how he has been made to feel before.

“No more pretense Eric” you mumbled, voice firm but soft at the same time. He pulled you closer, his lips brushed over your neck

“Did you truly miss me?” he asked as his fangs grazed over your skin

“I did..I don't want to lose you” you murmured softly, fingers caressing his nape.

“I missed you, little flame”

He said before he sunk his teeth in your flesh, a moan escaped your throat as he slowly laid you down underneath, his mouth stayed latched on your neck, your eyes rolled back in your head as the familiar sensation coursed through your body, sharp at first, like the lightning outside but also achingly sweet. Your breath caught, chest rising beneath him as your fingers clutched at his back, feeling the tattered fabric of his shirt.

His hand found yours on the bed, and he threaded your fingers together, grounding himself as if afraid you'd slip away if he wasn't careful.

“Eric,” you gasped, the name trembling on your lips like a spell, and he groaned in response, low, guttural, laced with hunger and something he didn't want to name yet.

Too soon.. you could still change your mind, you could still turn when he gets more hideous.

That night he drank each drop of your blood as if it was a gift he didn't deserve.

When he finally pulled back, breath ragged, lips wet with crimson, he looked down at you—not like a monster sated, but like a man who had just remembered what it was like to feel again.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” he murmured. “Not now. Not after this. You truly are an enigma” he murmured, eyes flicking as if he was trying to memorize your face before dawn would steal you away from him for hours..

You let your fingers trace along his jaw. He flinched at first, instinctively, but then leaned into your touch like a wounded animal finally letting itself be comforted.

Pressing your head up you planted a soft kiss on his lips before you pulled away, you could tell he was surprised by your action, he really did put all his worth in his looks and that saddened you but you didn't blame him for it either if those women let go of him when he changed.

“What was she like?” You asked him as he curled next to you, his chest pressed against your back, he rode your dress up before pulling your underwear to the side, you gasped loudly as he entered your wet cunt in one quick motion..

“Who?” He asked

“Evelyn? Your lover”

He stilled inside you for a moment,he still had memories of her but with time he had learned to block them out of his mind.

“She was beautiful, the most beautiful girl in our village”

“Mmm makes sense..you must be the most beautiful too”

“I wasn't..I was one of the ordinaries”

Your breath hitched as he began to thrust, slowly and deliberately.

“I don't believe you”

“You should, i hide the truth, but i never lie to you..never have”

“So you chose to become this for her? Because you wanted to save her from dying? Be with her forever” He hummed in your ear as you questioned him.

His thrusts never stopping

“And she denied?”

“She was scared of me, of what I had become, of what I wanted to make of her, she feared I had made a deal with the devil, she didn't want to be condemned by the gods”

You hummed as he finished speaking, you did understand her plight but you couldn't help but wonder if she knew that he'd be doomed to be alone for all eternity? Would she have changed her mind if she knew?

You didn't ask more questions because you knew he wouldn't answer them.

A moment later he pulled out of you, flipped you on your back and then entered you again, his pace fast and quick now as if he couldn't wait to combust in you.

You stared into his eyes as he moved on top of you but he avoided eye contact unlike before, so you grabbed his cheeks and kept his eyes on yours while he ruined you slowly.

You could get used to this you thought, sure you'd miss his beautiful face at times but when he was this close to you, you felt the same as you used to, he still pleased you in ways you had never been pleased before. And he cared about you, that much you knew.

*******

At the hospital next morning, Mr. Rogers’s lawyer connected with you. He told you that while making his will his client had expressed that he needed you to keep the store running, in case he would ever fall sick or get in an accident.

“Wait, he wants me to keep it up?”

You asked him, just to make sure you hadn't misheard him. If that's what he wanted to be done you weren't going to disappoint him. Besides you wanted him to wake up and find his store up and running as well and you'd not have to stay home all day long either.

When you picked up the keys from his house it had already been late in the afternoon so you decided to open the store from tomorrow instead. Weather was getting bad too, the forecast said it would storm all night long so you wanted to get back home before you'd be stuck somewhere.

By the time you reached the building it was already dark and the power was out in your area due to the heavy winds and rain. The elevator wasn't working either so you took the stairs.

As you reached the first floor, there was someone standing in front of the elevator, it was the same man you had been seeing, the one with the top hat and five piece suit, the one who left the notes for you. His silhouette was strong as the only light coming into the building was from the window at the end of the corridor.

He stood completely still, not moving at all. You wanted to confront him but the way he just stood there in the dark, with his back facing you, not moving an inch sent the shiver down your spine.

You quickly inched up the stairs, as you reached the top you looked behind to see if you were being followed and there he was at the end of the lower staircase, standing still with his back against you.

That's when you ran, you ran so fast until you reached the fourth floor. Who was he? What did he want from you?

You kept looking over your shoulders to see if he was following you but as you reached near your apartment you saw him standing right in front of your door, he was still not facing you and you didn't know if that was a relief or not.

“Look whoever you are ..i have a-” before you could finish whatever threat you were conjuring up he spoke and cut you off

“Fell right into his trap didn't you?”

You froze as he spoke, his voice calm but robotic, it didn't sound human, it reminded you of the entity that appeared the night after you had screamed into the darkness. Rain splashed heavily against the corridor window, you parked your ears up to listen to the noises coming from your neighbours apartments but all you heard was silence..

And this man.. he still hasn’t turned to face you. He just stood there. Silent.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, trying to sound braver than you felt in that moment.

“I thought you were smarter than the rest,” he said, almost disappointed. “But I suppose beauty makes fools of all of us”

Your stomach twisted as he said that.

“Do you even know what he is?” the man continued, there was so much contempt in his voice as he spoke . “What has he done? You think this is some tragic romance?” He let out a laugh “You’re just another link in his chain. Another to cry out for help, another to nourish him, another to warm his bed, and when the time comes…” He finally shifted. Not fully turning, just angling his head enough for you to see the side of his face “He’ll let the monster out. And you’ll be next”

You swallowed hard, heart hammering in your chest.

“He doesn’t love you” the man said softly, almost kindly “He can’t. He only wants to be loved enough to forget what he is” He turned suddenly and took a step toward you so you stepped back instinctively. “And when you finally see him for what he truly becomes... you will run. They always do.”

With that he ran towards you, you fell down on the floor screaming, waiting for the impact, waiting for him to hurt you but you felt nothing at all.

When you opened your eyes, the woman that lived next door to you was staring at you but she didn't ask a question, she just shut the door when she realised you weren't hurt.

You were left staring at your door, the sound of your blood thundering in your ears.

By the time you got inside, your hands were still shaking. You locked the door behind you and leaned against it, your hand reached for the light before you realised the power was out.

“Ohh god oh god” you murmured under your breath as you looked for a candle in the drawer of the dresser.

A part of you feared he'd come back.

You couldn't even understand what he was trying to do, was he really warning you or was it something else?

You didn't find a candle in the dresser so you moved to the kitchen, the lightning outside casted an eerie glow inside your apartment every other second..

Once you found one you immediately lit it up, placing your palms down on the you stared at the flickering flame. The kitchen felt too quiet, like the walls were holding their breath as well. Each gust of wind outside made the windows shudder, and every creak in the floorboards set your nerves on edge.

And you had just gotten your breathing under control when an arm sneaked around your waist, the shriek that you let out was that of a woman being murdered, palm wrapped over your mouth to stop you from screaming.

“Shhh.. it's just me” he whispered, his voice almost cooey in your ear. It was just Eric. Closing your eyes you allowed yourself to calm down eventually .

He was in your head, you knew that, then why hadn't he asked about this strange man ever? He never even asked how you had learned of Susan Brown or who gave you the information about her.

You turned around and stepped away from him.

“Fell right into his trap”

The words were lingering like a doubt in your head.

“There's a man following me around for days” you said to him, just to gauge his reaction but he didn't react as if he already knew. He wasn't surprised at all.

“He can't hurt you until you let him so don't let him poison your mind”

You looked at him, shocked by how calm he seemed

“Excuse me? This man has been following me around, leaving me notes, coming to my house and you're-”

“He's not a man, he came from the same place i did, he can't get to you if you won't allow it”

You didn't know whether to be relieved or scared by the revelation, you knew he wasn't a normal man but you didn't know what to think of him. He acted like he was a well wisher, as if he was looking out for you.

“He said I fell into your trap..what does that mean?” your arms crossed as you questioned him

“I am afraid i can not tell you”

“Then how am I supposed to trust you when you won't even tell me the truth?”

You asked, eyes welling up as you felt the searing pain in your head from all the mess you had gotten yourself into.

“All I can say to comfort you is that I am not going to hurt you..i never meant to”

His voice sounded sincere but you didn't know what to believe anymore.

You grabbed the candle and stormed into your bedroom, you didn't ask him to leave so he stayed lurking in the darkness of your living room, after your bath as you moved into the kitchen to heat up the leftover food from last night he just stared at you.

“Stop staring..it's creepy” you said as you placed your hand on the waist, you could almost see a hint of smile gracing his scarred face. You wanted to lie and tell yourself the sight didn't make your heart warm but it did. It made you want to hold him in your arms.

“I apologise, i tend to do that but you cannot blame me when you look like that”

You rolled your eyes, you were just in your nightgown, nothing special, your lips twitched despite yourself.

“Like what?” you asked, trying to sound annoyed but your voice lacked the bite.

“Soft” he said simply as he approached you “Warm. Alive. Beautiful”

You looked away quickly pretending to fuss with the pot on the stove so he wouldn't see the way your cheeks flushed, the feeling didn't last though. How many times has he been this way with another women?

“Do you ever miss them? Any of those women that once stood in the same place as me?” Eric didn’t answer right away.

You kept your eyes fixed on the pot, waiting. When he finally spoke, his voice was distant, like he had to reach back through all the centuries he had lived just to find the right words.

“I don’t miss them, it might seem cruel but I didn't get to see them this way, in such a human way the way I see you now.. I came into the night and disappeared at dawn” he said quietly so you hummed in response.

“So the woman you bond with has to die first so you could find the next one? Like how you found me after Susan?”

You asked another question, trying to get as much information as you could get out of him.

“I bond for life. The bond ends with their life..i would have stayed forever, she didn't want me to stay after i changed” His jaw tightened as he spoke

You searched his expression, but he wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“They all asked you to leave?” you asked. “Like Susan?”

“Eventually they did” he said. “Some stayed longer, some let me feed in the complete dark, some kept their eyes closed when I touched them so they could envision my face the way it used to be, some needed me to leave immediately but they all wanted me gone. They always reached a point where they couldn’t look at me without revulsion”

His eyes finally met yours as he was done speaking.

“And what am I doing right now, Eric? Am I just going to be another name in your story?”

He stepped closer, slowly and carefully as if to not spook you again

“No. You’re different.”

He stopped inches from you. He brought his hand up to reach for your cheek, his thumb traced over your warm skin.

“What makes me any different from them?” he let out a chuckle as you questioned him

“I see the fear in your eyes, but you haven’t run, you never ask me to leave. You want to understand me. You asked questions. Even when you don’t trust me..you want me to stay close, my little flame”

You hated how much that moved you. Hated how it chipped away at your anger and distrust.

“So when they die..you become pretty again?”

“I do..it does feel good to look into the mirror and see the old face i remembered staring back at myself, but it never lasts, i always change and they always leave” he mumbled somberly. You couldn't even imagine what it must feel like, being rejected over and over again, you had your fair share of rejection and abandonment but not like this.

Not so apparent, not so cruel.

“I don't want to leave”

You admitted, you didn't want him to go, for what reasons you still didn't understand, it wasn't just lust or addiction, it was developing into something more. Something deeper, something you had never felt before, not even for Adam.

Outside, thunder rolled again. The wind howling loud.

After eating you grabbed his arm and took him to the bedroom, no words were said as you laid underneath him and he sunk into you in every way he could, feeding from you, pleasuring you.

“What did you call them? You call me little flame..did you have names for them?”

You asked..not wanting to hear the answer, not really, you feared he'd tell you the truth that he called them all the same name but his answer made your head spin, perhaps you weren't the only one feeling something deeper here.

“I called them by their names. With you I needed something only I could call you. The name only my lips would ever speak..something unique..just the way you are, my little flame”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Taglist @mariaenchanted @malenoradgn @muchwita @loushaw131460 @wiseyouthinfluencer

@a-differentbrandof-beans @urmomsgirlfriend1 @serving-targaryen-realness @mskiabbs

[brothermouse]

Sometimes I'll come across an anti Mormon post and I'll get upset, but then I see that the post has, like, zero notes. So out of curiosity I'll check out the poster and see that they've made fifty to a hundred other hate-posts that, added together, have a grand total of one note. Then I realize that this person is not only hateful and bitter, but also alone in their bitterness, screaming their rage into the void and not even being answered but their own echo. I find in that moment that I pity them in their isolation.

I still block and report them, of course, because I don't want that crap on my feed, you know?

[skynight110]

Child Of The Monsters

A monsterverse fic:

You can't remember when it all began. When something changed. Or maybe you could, if you thought deep enough on it. All you knew now though, was that you were alone. Because of them. Because of Him. If only you weren't so young when this all began, perhaps you could have prevented everything; the death of your parents, being one. Being forced to give up your childhood "for the sake of humanity" being another. But alas, nothing could change what has happened, and all you could do now was try and escape this hell that's been built around you, and pray to whatever deity is out there to grace you with luck. Because if they find out, if He finds out.....

The sake of the world, the sake of your life, the sake of every little good thing you've managed to keep, will be at stake.

•••

Hello, hello. I've decided to post my story here on Tumblr just...because lol. You can find it both on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/55869871

Or wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/366621677?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_reading&wp_page=reading&wp_uname=KnockoutRules

Updates will most likely be posted on these two first, and I'll post when I remember to on here. However, to be up to date I'd suggest reading on either of those platforms.

Like on both of those, here is important information that I insist you glance over before reading:

This story is definitely inspired by Screaming into the Voids "Y/n, Child of the Monsters///Platonic!Yandere!Godzilla/Titans x Child/Teen!Reader" on Quotev, I suggest going and checking it out, however it is incomplete and I'm unsure if the writer is still interested in finishing it. With that out of the way, this will be a "yandere" type story, and will have normal Godzilla movie themes in it such as

- death

- canon-typical violence(cmon, it's godzilla, he's going to end up ripping something in half)

- spoilers for the movies(except gxk, I haven't seen it yet)

and themes I've added in. There will be

- "talking" kaiju, however they don't physically speak to humans, rather its an insight into their thoughts/feelings

- mentions/forms of telepathy

I personally headcanon that mothra can "tap" into others, and while she can't speak fluent, she can send emotions or brief thoughts to others that aren't close to her. Godzilla can do similar things, but it takes more focus for him, and it works better through touch. But it doesn't happen very often.

- some forms of experimentation, both on humans and kaiju

I want to make it clear that there is no romance in this, it's purely platonic.

I've tried to align readers age with how the movies are set in time, so here's a quick guide if any of you get confused:

Reader is born in 2009, they are 5 during the events of 2014.

By the events of Kotm, reader is 10.

Gvk, reader is 12, and this is mostly where the story will take place, and continue onwards.

In GxK, reader is 15.

I also won't be adding in much from the comics because I haven't read them, but there's a chance I'll add in some small things that I've managed to find out.

As for plot family wise, as stated your parents don't appear for too long. They ded. But you will have other family members! For my own sake to make it easier for me I'm gonna make reader related to the Russels; Mark being your uncle and Madison being your cousin, simply because of plot wise it makes it easier for me to use them.

If there are any questions, feel free to comment them, I'll do my best to answer them to best of my ability.

ALSO

Fair warning now, even though I like writing, I lose motivation VERY fast. So if I fall of the face of the earth for a bit, don't be surprised. I have stuff to do in my life too, seeing as I'll be graduating next year and need to get my stuff together. If you're worried that I'll be discontinuing this story, just ask in the comments, I promise I'll answer, later or right away. I'm the kind of writer that will have random spouts of motivation in the middle of the night when I'm tired, or in the middle of the day when I'm busy.

But, I will try my best to commit to this, because I really want to write this to give both myself and everyone who finds this a story with the Big G, because there are so few out there.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,794 Words

Summary: The solar eclipse after Solar's death has an energy to it.

Warnings: Character Death, Caps, Cursing, Overworking, Self-Hatred (from Moon, of course), Sleep Deprivation, Blood (minor), Minor Injury, Ghost, Magic, Mind Meld, Soul Bond, Sharing A Body/Brain, Pain, Nausea, let me know if I should add anything else.

Binding And Bonding

Solar woke up in an abyss. Everything around him was darkness. He could see a vague ring of light around him, lighting up the rest of his surroundings decently well. He could vaguely hear something being said into the void around him in a vaguely familiar voice but he was knocked out before he could acknowledge the voice.

-Two And A Half Weeks Earlier-

"I don't wanna go…" Solar muttered, body deteriorating and slowly disintegrating as it collapsed to the floor like his dimension likely was. Moon was quick to grab him and try to keep him steady but it wasn't any use given he couldn't feel his legs anymore.

"You don't have to!" Moon insisted, holding Solar as close as he could, Solar feeling Moon's hands slip through him as he could feel himself fading into an abyss.

"Solar? SOLAR!" Solar could vaguely hear Moon screaming as he went into a void.

-A Week Later-

"Moon, you're pushing yourself. You aren't charging or resting." Eclipse finally broke and snapped at him.

"Maybe I would if I hadn't fucked everything up!" Moon screamed back at him, too stressed to not scream at the inconveniences anymore, too focused on getting Solar back now.

"Moon, you're at a max of five percent." Eclipse reminded him.

"I'll charge when my brother is back." Moon growled venomously, eyes turning to glare that Eclipse dare interrupt him but Eclipse had gotten used to Moon being like this fairly quickly. Eclipse knew Moon would inevitably run himself down and then Eclipse could carry Moon off to bed.

Thankfully, Eclipse got that opportunity sooner rather than later as Moon stumbled and his hand hit a tray, knocking it to the floor with Moon collapsing to the floor as well a few seconds later.

Eclipse went and finally was able to scoop the poor sap up and groan at how heavy Moon was, muttering complaints about how much Moon weighed as he kicked the door to Parts & Service open for him since he was busy carrying Moon.

"You." Ruin caught Eclipse's attention before Eclipse was able to leave.

"Yeah, what about me? Want me to come in there and kill you finally?" Eclipse asked.

"No, actually. I would like you to forget Protocol 87.775.2, actually." Ruin told him and Eclipse tilted his head in question, not really knowing what Ruin was talking about.

"Forget about what?" Eclipse asked.

"Exactly! Good job! Thank you! Be on your way now!" Ruin cheerily told him and Eclipse shook his head and carried Moon up to the daycare and through the portal to the house, sighing seeing Sun's cats practically waiting for Moon, though they hissed as if they hated him anyway, but Eclipse knew the little cretins were pretending they hated Moon.

Eclipse laid Moon on the couch and put a blanket over him for the cats to crawl on top of and purr now that they knew Moon was sleeping. Eclipse chuckled at the little gremlins. They sure loved their uncle, they were purring on his unconscious body.

Eclipse plugged Moon's charging wire into the wall outlet near the couch and left to go figure out what the hell Ruin was talking about, landing at the daycare computer inevitably. It seemed the computer knew everything anyway so he may as well try.

"Nice attempt, but you are not a member of the Celestial Family." The computer told him.

"Nice joke, I actually am. But I came for answers." Eclipse told the machine.

"Whyever would I give you answers?" The computer asked.

"Ruin mentioned a protocol in me, basically asking me to delete it but I don't know what he was talking about. I will let you scan my code if you look for Protocol 87.775.2." Eclipse told the computer.

"…I will agree to these conditions, only because it may serve well for Moon." The computer agreed. Eclipse plugged himself into the computer for it to scan him and just sat back waiting, all he could do was wait. The computer was doing two things at once and it was taking a while.

Eclipse ended up falling asleep for a bit in the computer chair while the computer did its thing. However, the computer also decided to be an alarm for Eclipse as it woke him up with a loud bussing noise through his circuits.

"HEY!" Eclipse jolted awake, pulling out the cord and thoroughly startled by the computer.

"Ah, good, awake. I have found Protocol 87.775.2 as well as scanned your code." The computer told him.

"And you wake me up like your about to try giving me a controlled shock?" Eclipse snapped.

"Yes, I found it amusing." The computer would've laughed if it could, Eclipse could tell.

"Fine, what is the protocol about?" Eclipse asked.

"This protocol entails a means to what Moon has been working on. A way to undo what has been done." Eclipse scoffed at that.

"So that's why he wanted me to get rid of it. I haven't been alone in a room so he couldn't give me an order to try to get me to delete it until today." Eclipse muttered.

"Unfortunately, it is extremely difficult as it works with the essence of an energy." The computer told him.

"Tell me what I have to do."

-One Week & Four Days Later-

Eclipse walked into the room Solar had died in. He had finally made good on getting everything else ready and Sun and Moon were out with Earth and Lunar, watching the solar eclipse on the roof of the PizzaPlex.

Eclipse had chalk, blood, and a dagger. He hated this, it felt so weird. It felt so awkward to probably be the first person Solar sees when he comes back.

"Solar?" Eclipse calls to whatever remained of Solar's energy, which he had attuned himself to over the last week and a half.

"Solar." Eclipse called to Solar again, sitting down in front of where Solar died. He could feel the energy around him swirling as though Solar was trying to tell him he was there still.

"There you are." Eclipse closed his eyes, holding the chalk and drew a circle of runes with his eyes closed, following the images of runes the protocol was feeding him on the back of his eyelids. The circle was around Eclipse himself and the spot Solar died in, interlocking them.

"Solar, I can feel you. God that sounds weird." Eclipse muttered the last half. The energy jolted like it was laughing at him. "Yeah, laugh it up, idiot. Sit with me." Eclipse sighed. He could vaguely see the outline of Solar's energy sit with him.

"Thank you." Eclipse muttered, knowing he had to thank Solar. He hated that he had to. Eclipse cringed as he poured the blood on the inner ring of the rune circle, watching outside as the sky began to go dark.

"I willingly open this connection for Solar." Eclipse stated as the protocol had, cutting open his right hand with the dagger in his left dominant hand. Eclipse could see that the whisp in his vision that was Solar's energy was interested.

"Hold my hand, Solar and only Solar." Eclipse told the energy. The energy seemed to hold his hand and Eclipse sighed at the feeling, relieved Solar was just listening to him, probably out of curiosity rather than genuine willingness.

"I connect what is mine to what is yours. Wire for wire, energy for energy. I share willingly what is mine with you." Eclipse spoke evenly, making sure to read word for word.

"This day is a connection." Eclipse felt the rune light up with light, blazing as the room went completely dark. "I bind us. Mine is yours. under this light, we become connected." Eclipse lost his breath after these words of the spell, making him choke a bit as he could feel Solar's energy binding to his own, coughing to get air as he could feel his mind breaking in half, body feeling aches and pains as Solar's energy was bonding to him.

Eclipse lurched forward, nauseous as he felt Solar's AI blooming into his head, using the broken-off half of Eclipse's mind, their mind? Eclipse didn't know but he was nauseous. Animatronics weren't supposed to get nauseous. He leaned with his hands on the ground, hearing someone screaming. Was that him? Was he screaming? He still had to say the final words and get Solar to say them too.

Eclipse reached his energy into his mind, making Solar take half control with him, each having control of one half of their? body. Eclipse fed the final words into their vision to make Solar say it with him. Once Solar nodded using their head Eclipse nodded back.

"We claim the energy of the solar eclipse given to us." Both of their voices echoed and the pitch-black void of the room glowed with a peace around them, the white ring around them calmly pulsing with their energies. Eclipse finally felt a peace now as he curled up on the ground, trembling with everything that had happened, too overwhelmed to move but he had to finish it. He had to finish this. He fed to Solar in their optics the final step and words.

Solar was the one to drag their body upright again. Eclipse was shivering, Solar was shivering. The room felt cold. Everything felt cold. Solar seemed to have more force than Eclipse, Solar was learning how to share their energy.

"We undo the damage that has been done through false trust." They made sure to echo each other and Eclipse felt a bloom in his chest of the energy they claimed from the solar eclipse above in the sky still, the ring around them, practically burst into a running visual of universes coming back into being, rebuilding themselves, lives being brought back immediately, everything blooming around them in the circle of light like flowers.

Eclipse gave a soft, exhausted chuckle seeing it and seeing the sky begin to get light again. Once the ring around them finished, the warm feeling slowly dissipated and Eclipse and Solar simply collapsed onto the ground, shaking and taking deep breaths.

"Thank you." Solar whispered.

"I know." Eclipse tried to laugh but all that came out was a wheeze.

"Are you okay?" Solar asked.

"I'm exhausted." Eclipse whispered back.

"Well, you gave up your magic to bring everything back, you're probably going to be exhausted for a while." Solar sighed.

"I expect Moon to thank me, you tell him that if you wake up first." Eclipse told Solar before letting himself ease into unconsciousness, giving Solar control for a brief moment before Solar fell asleep too from being brought back and losing a lot of energy himself.

[machine-babydoll-reborn]

Don't feel pressured to answer this, as I wouldn't be offended if you didn't, but I just wanted to tell you that I feel a lot of relief seeing posts like yours. I almost decided to stay in the closet indefinitely because of all the pro-c and nonconsensual abuse in the transID community. But knowing I'm not the only one with these beliefs gives me hope that I'll actually be able to express who I really am some day.

Thank you for having the courage to speak up !

~Kokoroᯓ❤︎ˎˊ˗

Thank you for sending this!

Sometimes my anti-c posts feel like screaming into the void. Like no one hears me. So it’s nice to know I do have an impact!

Anti-cs, I am holding your hand across space and time (unless you are touch averse or just don’t want me to).

[mal-wear]

Though, I really don't want to worry anyone, I really must vent here. It hurts to breathe as of now, and please, don't worry for me. This is simply just how I express myself.

Trigger warnings:

'helf sarm' (HS⏪)

St@rv@t1on

Abus3 topics

Read at your own 'risk', I am NOT responsible for ANY of your triggers beyond this point. (/nm) <3

.

.

.

.

.

Every single night, I cry. I don't know why I do.

Maybe it's the yelling, it's my mom's fault. She shouldn't have made it all my problem that she's mentally unstable...

..no. no, it's not. It can't be her fault. She's my mother. She'd never do that.

Maybe it's the fact the 'cuts' always fade from my skin no matter what blade I use. Maybe I need someone to just see how much I've suffered. Like art at a museum. But surely, there's someone who has it worse. I should be happy I get it so easily compared to some others.

Maybe it's the fact that no matter how many meals I skip, I'll never be able to be happy with my body. I'd only be happy if I sexualize my curves. But once again, someone out there has it worse. I shouldn't feel like this.

Maybe it's the constant yelling and slamming of doors done by my parents. The screams on false claims being thrown into each other like two angry neighbors. Maybe it's the fact they won't break up? No..no parents argue all the time. It's normal. I'm just over exaggerating it.

Maybe it's the past experiences. The abuse. He'd never do that. At least, not now. I shouldn't worry about stuff that happened so long ago.. it's not like it's something I care about now.

Maybe, just maybe, it's the void I feel in my stomach. The constant swinging of emotions. Like two sides fighting to burst out of my stomach like they're trapped. The thing that causes me so much pain, simply because I can't express them. But that's my problem. It's my fault for not expressing myself for often. It's my fault for not getting the help I've needed. If I ask for help again, I'll just annoy someone. That's not what I want.

So then why? Why do I cry so much at night? When nobody's around, and I'm in bed? Is it because nobody will come and save me? Am I afraid of being weak? Maybe I'm so used to being this happy, colourful, extroverted shell of myself in front of other people, that I've just forgotten what I'm supposed to do with nobody around. Like my happiness is something I can't get from myself unless I make a fool of myself.

Maybe this is my fault. I don't deserve this happiness. I should be thankful that people wanna talk to me. It's just my fault for covering up my emotions.

Maybe that pill bottle was the answer after all. I should go crawling back to it, as I do with most things I tell myself I'll never see again.

[technically-a-kiwi]

Cosmic AU written story 1: a bad surprise

Above our world and compression,

In a realm beyond space and time, beyond the mortal eye

is a being, wearing the attire of a chef and harboring the colors of the cosmos.

The entity watches over what looks like a star field, an endless sea of worlds, all alone in a room that stretches as far as the eye can see.

He sighs, thinking to himself "how long have I been staring into the void like that? I should have gone back to making pizza by now..."

"Yeah your shift ended like 10 hours ago Italian man ! "

Out of nowhere, another being, wearing the clothes resembling one of a TV host, glimmering in the brightest of ways, behind him is a cape, shifting in the way a flame would, and to complete his look, a thousand dollars smile shinning as bright as the sun, hinting toward his mischievous schemes.

The chef entity jumps, completely startled, and screams

A scream so loud one could hear him from miles away, a scream so loud it could outstage one of an explosion. And with his scream, his body shinned a blinding light, indicating how panicked he is.

The chef entity stops, manages to calm down. Now that he's finally put together, his expression of fear slowly shifts into rage, furiousness that is contained, as to prevent another spectacle of cacophony.

"Noise, per l'amor di Dio, DON'T SNEAK UP ON ME WHEN SO MANY UNIVERSES ARE AROUND ME !" The chef yells in anger

"Can't sneak up on you in your pizzeria, can't sneak up on you in the city, can't sneak up on you in the void. You're being quite picky here Peppino..." The host entity says with rolling eyes

A manic smile grows on the chef, he grabs the host by the collar" I'll make it easier for you then ! Don't sneak up on me, EVER, capeesh ?"

"Oh you're no fun" answers the host.

The chef lets go, and goes back to his own thoughts

The host leaves, not before doing a very rude gesture in the chefs back

"I saw that" says the chef

"Great! I won't have to do it again then!" Says the host, in a taunting, sarcastic tone. He finally leaves the place

The chef sighs in exasperation " I'll forever curse the day I was forced to work with that banana smiled looking creep..."

The End

Hi guys! Kiwi speaking 🥝. As you can see this story was told through text only, after seeing lemonade-pop 's work I got really inspired to try something similar of my own ! Don't worry tho I promise the main arcs of the AU will have some art in their posts ! It will be like a story book where the text is accompanied by a slideshow :D, because due to current events it is absolutely unthinkable to make a complete webcomic serie with the Cosmic AU. But hey I promise those stories will be of quality ✨. Let me know if you like this approach, see ya ✌️.

[nemetonisevilpassiton]

Lydia Martin and Liebestod

this meta was one I didn't think I had to write, but I was losing my temper with the teen wolf reddit [yes, I'm still banned for being a pedant] because to me the answer was super obvious because I understand the literary concept of liebestod and then it occurred to me how are you supposed to know what it is if no one takes the time to explain it.

So, yes, liebestod.

Literary theory steals words and uses them out of usual context to explain something complicated, then other people will use the same word to explain something similar but equally complicated and then everyone agrees on those definitions and people use the word and skate on by.

Liebestod is a great example of this because it has - 4, yep 4, basic definitions which are like a balloon over on a bigger topic.

Liebestod is for those who don't speak German a conjoined noun meaning love-death, what it means in German I don't know but in literary theory it means the following

The belief that the only successor to pure and perfect love is death

the belief that the only way to achieve a pure and perfect love is death

the belief that withou a pure and perfect love the only successor is death

the belief that without death the only successor is the pure and perfect love for the avatar of death

It's fun right, now let's expand it with examples so you can see how it works in practise

After the perfect moment the only way is down and I'll never know it again - see Othello "perdition catch my soul but I do love thee, and if I love thee not chaos is come again". That quote is the example they teach ou because after that line everything falls apart and dies. Its the most famous example so you can see why I saw it.

love is swallowed up by minutae which destroy the love itself, so imagine Romeo and Juliet as middle aged with kids and sniping at each other with spit up and his philandering because life just got in the way and that perfect love couldn't surve reality. So it is pure and perfect because they died before it happened.

Your serial killer narrative. A sociopath creates death because they have nothing else- the tv show hannibal is great for showing two sides of it, because Will Graham approeaches the same outcome from another angle

Deadpool. I swear when ever I do a hardcore literary meta I end up using deadpool as the example. Deadpool, unable to die, is in love with the avatar of death, [so is thanos] she appears to him as a female figure in a robe with a sugar skull and she manipulates him to her own advantage and knows they can never be together but she likes him better than thanos

so which one applies? Lydia is the hint but 4, absolutely 100% 4

all of the characters who have died or cannot die fixate on lydia, all of them, yep, all of the characters who fixate on Lydia die and come back. The exception character who doesn't come back [Valack] is killed by Lydia's scream, but he is seeking an escape from death

Lydia is a character who has one foot in death so you get Peter, who actively protects her from void in s3 and again in s4 [preventing her from going to Mexico], Jackson dies on the lacrosse dield, Stiles dies in the ice baths, Parrish died in Kandahar and was replaced by Garmr, Void snatches her, Jennifer is fascinated by her. The list goes on and they are all excluded by death

so if you find yourself asking "why are all these creepy people fixed on lydia"? the answer is that they're not interested in who she is - but what, they are in love with the avatar of death who happens to be Lydia.

It really is an "oh, of couse, it's liebestod", answer, they were close enough to dying that death is their pure and perfect love but that death happens to be lydia

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Sorry if u have already answered this or this isn’t really ur blog focus but how do u structure and come up with ideas for such good and lengthy analysis?

Do u read and see the shows contents multiple times? Or interact with other fans/ fandom?

And once u have an idea how do u go about it?

— from a small niche fandom blog

I'm honored that you think my stuff is good! As for how I come up with it, well, I'll answer as best I can, but I don't know how useful it will be? If you wanna ask something more specific, feel free!

Most of my posts are responses to asks, so my general process is to read the ask, think about it as I go about my life, and then write a response once I feel like I have my thoughts in order. Then I add the post to my queue so I can reread it at least once before it actually posts to catch any errors and make sure it reads coherently. I usually find the time to do that, though not always.

The posts that aren't asks are just me talking about random things that I can't stop thinking about, so I need to scream into the void to get my brain to move on. Those ideas come from random thoughts, a trend I notice in fanfic, comments/reblogs in my asks, and a whole host of other places. I've got one post in my queue right now that I'm pretty sure was spawned by my latest rewatch of The Good Place, but I can't be sure about that. I don't try to look for post topics, they just come to me.

I don't watch the show over and over. Not really my thing. I've seen all of Miraculous seasons 1 to 3 once and I've seen most of seasons 4 and 5 twice (once subbed, once dubbed). Origins and Oblivio are the only exceptions. They're my favorite episodes, so I think I watched them a few times back before season four aired and my feeling toward the show started to really sour. When I'm pulling quotes, I just rely on my memory and the fan wiki, which has transcripts for all of the English episodes, allowing me to fact check myself. I occasionally pull up a specific episode to check the visuals in a given scene, but that's really rare and I only do it because I have access to the streaming version. If my SO ever cancels Disney+, then I'll be script only.

I read other fan analysis if it crosses my dash, but I don't go looking for it or follow any super active blogs. While I think there are others with valuable input out there, I already spend enough time thinking about Miraculous for my own blog, so I try to focus my energy in other spaces when I'm not managing said blog. I don't like to endlessly scroll on Tumblr and only follow blogs that don't post much to keep from feeling overwhelmed or sucked in.

I started talking about Miraculous on here because I found it genuinely fascinating how badly it was written. I think you could teach an entire class on basic writing principles using Miraculous as a case study because there are so many things it does wrong and failure really is a fantastic teacher. But the analysis I do for Miraculous isn't a skill that's unique to Miraculous. What you see on this blog is my default state. This is just how my brain works. How I engage with the majority of media. When I finish watching or reading something that I didn't like, I want to understand why I didn't like it and how it could be shaped into something I would like.

It's a honed skill. I've been obsessed with story telling since I was a little kid and my parents sort of accidentally started training me on analysis at a young age. Add in years of voracious reading and several excellent English teachers and I'm able to run this blog without too much mental effort. Talking and thinking about writing are legitimately fun for me. This stuff is my "I'm too drained to write" hobby.

None of this makes me some arbiter of quality or means that I understand every point of view about what makes a story good. All it means is that I know enough about writing to be able to clearly articulate why I like or dislike the way a story was told.

I guess that's the one piece of advice I can give. When you find something that bugs you, really think about why. Was it just a matter of taste or is there something more? Does it seem like the flaw is an intentional writing choice or not? Why? What changes could you make to fix the flaw? Can you make those changes without completely rewriting the story? Those are the kinds of fixes I look for first. There are certainly cases where massive change is needed, but looking for small changes will really hone that analytical ability to improve your writing as it forces you to focus on the fine details of the way stories work.

[amethystina]

Pops out from the box I was sorting through. Oh, hello! Anonymous raccoon popping back in to check in. I see that tag …. very funny lol. I’m also very honored! Never thought I’d build myself a whole ask series with raccoon but I’m not complaining. They’re adorable funky fellas anyways too.

Now on to my response. I do really want to say first of all, please please do not feel pressured to respond or reveal personal information that may make you feel uncomfortable! Of course if this is a chance for you to vent/work through things etc, then disregard my words haha, and please continue! I just wanted to make that clear. Because I’m a firm believer that nobody owes anyone an explanation for anything especially for why you’re not updating! I’m not here to nudge and prod in a ‘why aren’t you updating way.’ I’m here to check in, offer support in any I can, and just be a raccoon offering empathy or holding spaces for thoughts. Any thoughts lol.

(Intermission - Is there a character ask limit? I might break it if so, so if necessary this will turn into a multi-post. Sorry! Haha.)

I’m really sorry to hear that so many aspects have been just a shitshow one after another. I’m really glad to hear your wife is doing better — and also hopefully your aunt? even if it’s no news type deal — because god health issues are genuinely horrible. So I’m really glad there’s improvement on that front even if things aren’t perfect, but I’m sending you optimism as well. It seems that both of you are doing for sure what is best for you and downsizing truly can do wonders sometimes for making sure energy remains with you and not on taking care of a big house when you already got no energy. I can only imagine that it might work in y’all’s favor too with having that chance to have more energy to dedicate to spending time together! I’m sorry though because I know that leaving a place you love is always rough. Fingers crossed for comfy apartments in the future!

Alas, the therapist situation resolved itself as you expected. I saw the comment previously on your post about most therapists being CBT adjacent and my god, yeah. I know that it’s actually common that CBT is just not the right method for folks. Therapy methods are so individual specific. It’s good to hear that your therapist at least wasn’t awful but sigh yeah, unfortunate. I’ll still hold out hope that maybe further down the line you find someone who can actually offer more help. But for now — im glad he was at least able to offer you a chance to briefly at least just rant. Screaming into the void is very healthy-

I WILL continue to hold out hope that you can take things easy — but since I can see that you unfortunately most likely won’t be able to — I’m instead going to hold out hope that things improve and that this barreling train of things piling up one after another has a stop soon so you can breathe at least even briefly.

(Intermission 2.0- there’s no limit?? I survived making this one answer??)

Take care of yourself as always and treat yourself if you have to chance to <3

Cherish is, Anonymous Raccoon 😉

Don't worry, I don't talk about my problems until I'm actually ready to do so, at least not publically. Which is why it took me over six months to mention the fact that my wife has been sick and that we'll be selling our house. That was something I needed to keep to myself and only discuss with my closest circle until I had processed and dealt with it as best as possible. I've had lots of practice in figuring out when I can talk to people and in what forums. And there are definitely things I would never mention here in such a public place, mainly because I've learned the hard way to keep my more vulnerable rants in more private spaces. But, when I feel ready, I'll share what I think might be relevant.

And while I know I don't owe people an explanation, it's still beneficial to at least say something. When people ask me why I'm not updating, it's a lot easier to link people to a Tumblr post that details the situation instead of vaguely trying to explain that I'm just not able to post right now. I have a tendency to become more curt and evasive when I feel like I can't explain why I behave the way I do, and so I probably come across as a lot more rude than I intend to. And, again, while I don't owe people anything, I don't like the thought of being rude to them, either.

So yeah. Don't worry about that! It's pretty difficult to make me do something I don't want to do 😆 And thank you for wanting to check in 💜

My aunt is doing better, yes! She'll be celebrating her 60th birthday real soon! So, under the circumstances, I'd say things worked out well 😊

Yeah, I'm going to miss the house, but it's definitely the right choice for us. I do prefer living in a house over an apartment, but this house is just too big. And it's not like I won't have a house later anyway, since I'm set to inherit the old family home on my dad's side. It's located on the island where my family has lived since the late 1800's and I love it so, so much. The house itself is from 1870.

That's taken from the church tower (yes, we have a church in our backyard — just roll with it) at 11 PM. Because the midnight sun doesn't fuck around where I live 😆

(Fun fact for my Who Holds the Devil readers: Whenever I write about Ga On's feelings on being in Yo Han's house — the calm, comfort, and longing — it's this house I'm describing. I'm drawing from my own experiences of what it feels like to have found the one place on earth that will always feel like home)

Anyhow! For now, I'll settle for buying an apartment — one that's closer to my office. Since I've noticed that one of the things that drains my energy is the commute. There's actually an apartment I'd love to buy but I can't yet because the bank won't give me the required loan until we've sold the house. So right now I'm just hoping that no one else will want it and that it'll remain on the market until I can place a bid on it. We'll see!

I'd also like to find a therapist that works for me, but it's somewhat complicated by the fact that not even I know what kind of therapist I need 😂 But yeah. This one did help during the few appointments we had, so that's something? And I can see the light at the end of the tunnel now? I'm still exhausted, sure, but it's easier to stay afloat when I know that better things are ahead, you know? And I'm looking forward to getting there, even if it won't be a painless journey.

So yeah. I don't think the barreling train is stopping quite yet, but I think it will sometime in the future? And that's what I'm clinging to right now. That and The Sentinel fanfics 😆

Congratulations on not breaking the character limit! 😉

And thank you again for checking in. I'm very humbled by the knowledge that people care this much about me.

You take care too 💜

[crazybrazilian73]

Welcome!

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│ ✦ 🎨 Art | 🎭 Amateur voice acting | ✍️ Comics | 🔭 Pocket astronomy | ✨ Frustrated dreamer | 🌿 Country dweller

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│ ✦Hi, I'm Max (or Kankuro, if you prefer). I make universes, stories and a bunch of other stuff that I post here without much order. If you like Undertale AUs, mysteries, theories and a little bit of narrative chaos, you might find something interesting here.

│ ✦ Featured projects:

🔹 UnderVoid (my Undertale AU full of drama and secrets, I'm taking forever to post about it).

🔹 Resilient Dreamers (a somewhat experimental Dreamtale AU project that may never have a proper explanation).

🔹 Other scribbles, ideas and things that pop into my head.

│ ✦ I almost never post things in the right order, so good luck trying to understand. If you have any questions, maybe I'll answer... or maybe not. Theorizing is fun, isn't it?

│ ✦ My design here: a little being 15 cm tall, all white, chubby, with big eyes, wearing only a white shirt and shorts, always barefoot. I'm just here observing and releasing lore without context.

│ ✦ Questions? Complaints? A scream into the void? The ask button is there, but no promises of an answer.

│ ✦ RULES:

🔹No plagiarism, respect above all.

🔹Theories about UnderVoid are welcome!

🔹If I disappear, I'm probably working on the UnderVoid comic.

🔹Don't ask me to explain the lore. I post things out of order on purpose. Chaos is part of the experience.

🔹Don't copy, repost or use my content without permission (if you want to repost on other social networks, you can simply ask me directly). This includes UnderVoid, Resilient Dreamers and any other project. If I see it, I'll delete you from my multiverse.

🔹Don't ask to join my AUs. They have their own rules and don't accept new characters (it depends).

🔹Be respectful. This goes for me and anyone in the comments/reblogs. If you're a jerk, I'll delete you too.

🔹No hate. Constructive criticism? Fine. Just complaining? You can go away.

🔹Don't ask for a deadline for posts. I post whenever I want and can.

🔹Don't bring fandom fights here. I just want to create stories and release random lore, not fight with anyone.

🔹If you want to theorize, go for it! But don't expect me to confirm or deny anything.

🔹Be patient with answers. I'm a 15 cm little being, not a 24-hour service.

│ ✦ "If I'm God, why can't I save myself?"

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I'm Brazilian, don't judge my bad English, if you have any tips on how to improve I'd appreciate it.

[grande-lando]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

thanks for this jo! just what i needed today (i did get two and i'll be answering that one as well).

Life After You - Lando laid his hands on the lifeless chest of his fiancé's body, dressed in the suit he was supposed to get married in. He wanted to cry, to scream, to punch something. Everything had been taken away from him in the blink of an eye, and yet he couldn't mourn it. Not in the way he was expected to. He had shed tears when he had gotten the call, the voice on the other end telling him the man he was supposed to marry in two weeks had died in a car crash. But since then, there had been nothing. And now, on the weekend that was supposed to be the happiest of his life, he was watching his future being lowered into the ground.

This is the first multi-chapter fic I ever finished, and it holds a special place in my heart. My writing style has definitely evolved since I finished it, but there's just something about it that still makes me proud and warms my heart whenever I think about it. it's based on the movie catch and release.

all you have to do (stay) - Lando doesn't quite know how it had evolved to this, how he had become the grid's trophy or consolation prize in some instances. All he knows is that it fills a void, gives him purpose, and makes him feel wanted. He loves taking care of them. But who's taking care of Lando?

This is my all time favourite fic I've written, and the one I had least problems with (re: inspiration, time, and editing). Everything just seemed to click—I’d get ideas easily, scenes flowed naturally, and I didn’t have to wrestle with the plot or struggle to get it right. It was one of those rare times where writing felt effortless, like I was just putting down what the story wanted to be.

worship me beneath the sheets - It's so sensual, the way they're moving together, and Charles is lapping up the attention he's getting from both men. It's what he thrives on, craves, one of the reasons he became a model in the first place. All eyes are on him, always. He looks back up at Max only to see that he doesn't have his attention anymore, and neither does Daniel. He's looking over their shoulders. Charles wants to look behind to see what has captured his attention, but he's fairly stuck between their two bodies, so he doesn't; he just looks expectantly at Max as he holds out his hand. Charles can see a mop of curls come into his vision out of the corner of his eye, grabbing at Max's outstretched hand or Best friends Daniel and Max meet strangers Charles and Lando at a club and take them back to their hotel.

This one kind of just came alive. I don’t really remember writing it; all I knew is that I wanted to write something hot. The story took shape almost on its own, with each scene building naturally, and before I knew it, I’d crafted something I was proud of. It’s one of those rare pieces where every word felt right, and I barely had to go back to edit. I love how it turned out—like the story knew exactly what it wanted to be from the start! It's one of the very few stories I've written where there's no Carlando.

Black Velvet - Lando has gone through a lot in his life. When he was 13, his mom went missing, and he was left with a dad who wanted nothing to do with him. All of this has caused abandonment issues that make him cling to anyone who shows him kindness. When he starts working at Sapphire, a strip club owned by Lewis Hamilton, he finally starts figuring himself out. But what he doesn't realise is that he's launching a chain of events that can ultimately lead him to lose everything he holds dear to his heart while simultaneously resurrecting the ghosts of his past.

This fic is a labour of love and comes from blood, sweat and tears (and I'm not being hyperbolic). I went through hell as I wrote it, was accused of plagiarism because this is a stripper fic, and apparently you can only have on stripper fic in this fandom. But I poured everything I had into this story, fighting through doubt and criticism because I believed in it. Each chapter was a battle, yet it’s one of the pieces I’m most proud of <3

Impractical Magic - Charles and Lando were born into a family where falling in love means you end up dead. They take different paths in life, Charles wanting nothing more in life than to feel the exhilaration love brings, and Lando too afraid to ever put himself out there. When Charles gets into trouble with one of his boyfriends, Lando must figure out how to help him while trying his best not to fall in love with the one man who can take his life apart, Detective Carlos Sainz.

I'm quite proud of my chaptered fics, much more than I am of the one shots I've written. This one was for the first Carlando Winter Break Exchange, and I left it way too late and was fighting against time and myself the entire time I wrote it, and yet I enjoyed the hell out of it, and am proud to say that I wrote this :)

[amalia-uwu]

“Parallel Lines”

_____________________

Sans x Y/N

Undertale by Toby Fox

Special Thanks @fudgelling-away for the idea. This was written long ago.

Warnings: angst

“Greetings,

Lovely reader. Come, come have a seat”.

“Relax”.

“I'll tell you a story”.

“A tragic tale of two incompatible creatures who loved each other”.

.......

"Sans look! That constellation, it's Orion's belt!".

Sans was looking where you were pointing but got lost in thoughts.

«you know?» he thought.

«i always wanted to show you the stars»

«i wanted to hold your hand... hear your laugh. touch you. i wanted to sit next to you. hold you, feel you...but»

Sans looked at you. Such happiness, love.

Sans closed his eyes and leaned his skull to you.

Your voice music to his nonexistent ears.

The soft breeze caressed his bony face.

The world around him shifted. He opened his eyes and blinked.

Something inside his soul clenched. He looked around him. 

A couple of tears rolled down his cheekbones.

... "but... i can't... we can't we are incompatible... heh, life can be cruel right kiddo? heh.." he whispered.

______________________

Sans looked at the screen. Your smile, your eyes, your hair... He desperately wanted to touch you.

How come? You could be both a blessing and a torture. A bittersweet torture.

"heh!.. what kind of sorcery is this?! what kind of spell have you casted upon me. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?! WHAT KIND OF A SICK JOKE IS THIS?! HOW COME?! I FELL IN LOVE WITH AN ANOMALY?! I FELL FOR SOMEONE WHO CAN'T REQUITE MY LOVE!! WHY MUST YOU HURT ME LIKE THIS?! WHAT HAVE I DONE TO BE PUNISHED LIKE THIS?!" he yelled at the void.

Noone answered.

He turned around.

Your image was frozen in place. Your warm eyes looked ahead.

His expression softened a little. He carefully touched the screen.

The white void behind him an endless abyss.

Voices, tears, laughs, were muffled.

He looked around him.

Sans's cheekbones were bathed in tears.

He carefully touched and caressed your face.

"i hope you will be happy, whenever you are... whatever you do... i hope you will be alright y/n. i love you." with his forehead he touched ‹yours›.

His phalanges touched ‹ your › hand. Tenderly.

He clawed his phalanges. Slowly closing it. Clenched teeth. A dull unbearable heaviness in his soul.

An unknown voice watched both of you.

“You are both unfortunate creatures. You are incompatible. A fictional character and a real person cannot coexist. Even if you do find ways. You will never see the real self of one another.

You are condemned to walk side by side like parallel lines.

You are condemned to Never. Ever. Be together! You are doomed to follow each other like the day follows the night! Condemned to a fate where your love for one another cannot be requited” .

He clenched his teeth as fat hot tears ran down his eyes sockets. "why? why must I always fall for you....?"

You couldn't answers.

You couldn't hear his agony.

After all... A fictional character can never have emotions of his own. Someone else controls the threads.

Right?

He got up. He was about to leave. He looked at you one last time. There were many emotions

He turned around and left; feeling nothing but soul ache.

There was nothing he could do.

It was pointless.

He wept bitterly.

His anguished screams pierced the void. His tears shock the ground.

He could only hope for you. That you will be happy.

Move on.

Do anything you want.

He knew that at some point you will forget him.

He could only hope that he could give you something. Anything.

You didn't see the cracks on his pearl white soul.

More tears ran down his eyes. Just like that he faded into oblivion

"Y/N.. remember me... don't forsake me. i love you. i always had. and always will... i... wish i could do more for you. but such is fate"

You may wonder, if he blamed you for this.

No. No, he didn't.

He knew he was playing with fire. He knew he'd burn.

He knew the risks.

Yet, he took them for you. Everything he did was for you.

Besides...

He could only blame himself.........

.............for loving you!

____________________

The end! 💙

Thank you for reading! 💙

Comments, Constructive Criticism, Feedback, reblogs, likes are welcomed! Just please don't use bad / blasphemous language.