#and then i’m always like doing that can’t breathe heaving crying bc i’m so distraught and then i wake up and i’m like oh thank god that’s

[apathyfairy]

.

[dilfhakyeon-moved]

I wrote about death and Love

Just trying something out, not anything fandom-related ( or you can imagine it so if you want, but... that’s gonna be hard maybe lmao my mind went to at least three different fandoms while writing it and only one would maybe be fitting, but there’d be no characters for it except one )

Maybe I caught some of that Halloween spirit yeet yeet !

It’s set in a sort of fantasy setting if it can help understand why it can seem so,, heartless. and like. “we won’t do anything to help u”. it’s bc they Can’t bc they Don’t Know what to Do

there’s also a lot of confusion. that’s normal. i write like i’m writing a script for a film so don’t worry abt it if u don’t understand shit it’s bc i visualise everything and then i write it down without thinking about how shitty it will look hsfjdkhd

TW: death, sort of graphic description of stuff that’s kinda not cool ?, also stuff about someone who kinda goes so obsessed she can’t recognise reality I don’t know really but it’s macabre and depressing idk why I wrote that maybe it’s vent but idk why I’d write that to vent !! just. hm

Frozen. Here she lied ; was this truly her peace ? It couldn’t be. If herself wasn’t in peace, how could this bruised, cold skin and these pale, glassy eyes reflect any ? Glassy, they were. She was afraid of looking too long into them, might she see her own reflection in these gruesome mirrors. They were the mirrors of someone’s soul, once.

Tears fell next to them. She stood. A few seconds of reflection before a foggy breath left her, and she was kneeling back down.

Her frail hands were shaking as she took her cloak off, a deaf sob barely reaching her own ears as she carefully placed it on the other figure, covering shoulders and chest. She wished she could see her chest heave just another time.Not another time. More. She wished to see her blink, her eyes giving her stern but affectionate glare again ; she yearned to watch her as she took the cloak off and sat up, offering her a reassuring smile, and she stood, trying to rearrange her messy clothes ; she needed to see her move, as her skirt twirled around and her rare, but bright laughter seemed to echo comfortingly. Hearing her again. Feeling her breath and her gaze, and her words shooting through her mind in the worst ways, her fingers grazing her skin and sending a shiver down her spine. She wasn’t alone, she was fine.

Except she wasn’t. And she was alone, in her little world of fiction she was creating for herself - but in reality, there was no way she could be alone in such a place. However, the world around her had stopped existing, and soon, perhaps she would too. Only perhaps. Nothing in her seemed to show an ounce of concern over that, she hadn’t realised it yet. She wouldn’t realise it. Her mind was making her stare at saliva dripping from the mouth. A detail, but it hadn’t moved in hours at least. It was stuck, like stuck in time. But it wasn’t time, it was the cold. Time never truly stopped, only in people’s imagination.

Her fingers held a tighter grip over the cloak’s fabric, but one of them soon moved to rest on the body’s cold cheek. Colder than her own skin ; her body wanted to gasp, but didn’t have the strength to do so. Frozen.

“... out of here.”

The world still existed.

“Quick, get her out of here ! I won’t repeat myself a third time,” a harsh voice rang out, strong enough to wake her up. “If you leave her to die, I’ll make sure you meet the fate you deserve.”

She didn’t try to stand. She knew they were talking about her. They were always so careful, weren’t they... So caring. Her dark eyes narrowed. She slowly let herself rest on top of that body she cherished so much, closing her eyes - she felt herself go. Hands grabbed her shoulders and forcefully dragged her, she wasn’t nearly conscious enough to feel it. Her betrothed, dancing in a field, the war was over ; they laughed together. What war ? What was war ? Foreign... She laughed. The soldiers were distraught, but kept leading her away. Failing their mission meant death, especially with the war happening all around them. But she was so happy, in her field, with her loved one who’d never truly returned it, but love was blind, and love wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t as happy and beautiful as her grandmother’s tales had told her in such sweet lies. And she’d lied to herself. Love was beautiful.

They thought otherwise. Love was cold, and unforgiving. Love was made of stone, and breaking a person’s mind aroused Him in terrible, depraved ways. They’d been a victim of Him, just like the person they loved ; she’d succumbed, they stood their ground. They had to. They had to face Love, this merciless demon who couldn’t get enough of shattering every remaining piece of humanity in them. They endured the pain. Someone had to beat Love.

Up. Awake. Her eyes opened. The same ceiling made of stones... She was home. What relief. Minutes passed, then she moved. Stood from her bed, despite her leg giving in. She was standing ; she believed she was standing. She walked ; her body was crawling, but she was walking. Her entire left leg had lost its function to frostbite, but she believed she could walk. Looked around as she walked through different rooms, her smile constantly growing. She was home ! She only needed to find the one. 

An endless maze. She never realised it. Everyone else did.

They watched. Everytime she came back to the room they were in, their gaze lowered. After a few hours, they had closed their eyes ; a friend came to check in, asked if all was okay, and was rejected. And once they were alone again, tears fell. Tears fell next to her as she came back, and left them in what they were forced to call “being alone”.

Could they refuse calling it “being alone”, if the only person there was unable to even notice your simple existence ? They were alone.

It stopped after three days.

She was stuck on the floor, laughing hysterically yet so painfully. She hadn’t stood a single time, but this time she was unable to move. All she could do was laugh, and call for her love. She was hungry, she was thirsty, they thought. They’d grown almost indifferent to this miserable, almost pathetic sight. 

[ From the beginning, they’d known it would be yet another dramatic unrequited love story ; they’d sworn they wouldn’t pay too much mind to it. They wouldn’t trap themselves in attachment. Things had turned out in Love’s favour. They’d hated it. They hated Him. They’d hated how He made them feel, as what once had held a soul yearning for justice and truth became a well of insanity and suffering. Her smile had grown so much she didn’t resemble herself anymore.

“A crawlin’ monster on the carpet,” Love’d whispered in His husky, sultry voice, then snickered. “That’s what you’re thinkin’, boy. How could she end up like that ? You could’ve prevented it, nice guy.”

They’d clenched their jaw ; hadn’t responded. She wasn’t a monster ; she was long gone. And they’d never been a boy, nice guy. Love’d never listened, Love loved putting them through this. ]

But it wasn’t working on them anymore. Indifference, as aforementioned - things were easier to handle when their heart wasn’t being put into it. And somehow, Love had stopped tormenting them. All they felt anymore, was pity. There was nothing to be done ; they stayed there by habit. The walls around them didn’t change. The chair they were sitting on was still the same, and the people who bothered bring them some water and food occasionally were always the same.

Their eyes got lost after a few more hours ; as they stopped focusing and eventually fell asleep, she fell into a sleep deeper they’d ever known. Her last words weren’t words, a cry for help. A language they didn’t speak. They heard it in their dream. And as they woke up in the middle of the night, a last gift from Love awaited them : that macabre view. Her eyes still open, her mouth forever shaped into that terrifying grin she’d worn last, and the saliva dripping from her chin.

They stood. Walked closer. Love hadn’t left, just hidden. Maybe Love had won. Maybe they didn’t care anymore. The world seemed to stop existing, as they kneeled next to the body. She was cold, wasn’t she ? They could feel the cold ; their hands were shaking. She must’ve been cold as well. They took their coat off, draped it over her. The door opened, a voice spoke. They heard a scream, but did they really hear it ?

Or, were they stuck in their world where they were alone with their loved one both laughing and dancing in a field, when in reality they were alone without her - and their only company was the fight occurring, as the fortress was being invaded ?

It was likely they were unaware of reality.

Frozen.

Tag list: - @graceful-popcorn - idk who else would wanna be tagged in that tbh dhgkjdg