things feel so unnecessarily real sometimes..
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@courtjxster
things feel so unnecessarily real sometimes..
it's not healthy- not, particularly good for any part of my mind to be wanting you like this-- but you smell so good. my hands scream to touch the pale skin, and revel in their smoothness. it's the first time i've ever felt like this. it doesn't help that you indulge in the attention i give, too.
i notice the way you stare at me when you think i'm not looking. the glares you send out to others when they do the same is-- relieving? soothing? i can't find the words, but it lets me know that you love others the same way i do.
i love you so much. love the way your voice sounds, love the way your skin feels against mine. love the way your lips quiver in fear when you see me. tell me, my dear, just how much do i scare you?
it's quite rude, i'll tell you that much. we haven't even formally talked yet, and you're already avoiding me. i would have thought you'd be obsessed with me too.
its been so long since i've seen you. where have you been? i dont find the things i found peculiar about you so special now-- they're more of a nuisance to me.
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wilbur feels a chill in his bones. no, not the same chill he's felt for years staying in hell. it's the chill of trouble happening, or, at least, about to happen.
he stops the shuffling of his old, bent cards, and focuses on the empty void around him.
it's silent, but he's always known better than to trust such a feeble thing. afterall- it was like that when he was alive, nothing really changes when you're dead.
a deep groan cuts through it. one too familiar that wilbur instantly stands up from his usual sitting spot and run. run to wherever the hell the sound was coming from. he can feel his legs cramping from the sudden movements. he doesn't care.
a flash of pink catches his eyes. he stops in his tracks, wondering if the sick devil were playing some tricks on him.
there lay in the middle of nothingness that is the void, is his twin brother. conscious, shaking, and.. most definitely, real. he can hear the panicked breaths, can tell how confused the other is.
"techno?" the question comes as a hushed breath from wilbur. barely audible. one of techno's pig ears twitches, and the pig turns around so fast wilbur was almost worried he might get whiplash.
"wilbur." techno's face basically lights up. wilbur can't help but tackle him to the ground, arms tight around him as if he were to run away. techno yelps- falling to ground with his twin brother on top of him.
"why are you here, what did they do to you," wilbur rambles, techno's in the underworld, which means he's practically fucking dead.
"wil- wilbur, i dont have time to explain all of it, but tommy betrayed me, and- and now all of his new government friends came to my house to try and execute me-" techno said, panic rising with each word. "they got phil, wilbur. they put phil in house arrest, they locked him up because of me."
wilbur tried to catch up with every single thing his brother just said, apparently the server's continued to be very active even after his death. and, there was another government that tommy and "his friends" made? he was about to speak, about to ask more questions, but neon green sparkles started to surround techno.
"im sorry, im sorry, wil," techno hugs him back, the green taking up most of his vision now, "but i'm not supposed to be here yet."
and then techno disappeared.
wilbur laid there in disbelief, seemingly hugging his own self as his own mind swirls with questions, probably to be left unanswered till technoblade dies and comes back to hell.
he's more curious as to what's going on back up in the server than he is at whatever the hell just happened to his twin brother. a new government? executions? phil being locked up, and tommy betraying techno? it all seemed unreal.
a laugh escapes him, unhinged and manic- he cannot wait till another person dies and goes to the empty place called hell.
i often find myself dousing in the ugliest red for a slight chance of you noticing. it can be seen in the forms of my clothing, my art-- you must be really dense.
but that's alright. i'd rather you stay in your safe little bubble not knowing i exist.
"i could degrade you," they whisper in my ear. their tone sickingly addictive. "i could make you grovel underneath me, make you beg for your life."
you pant, they are way too close on you. your hands move to test their grip again. despite your expectations, they let go-- freeing your hands. and yet, you don't attempt to push nor harm them, instead just letting your arms dangle uselessly at your sides.
"or," they look up at you. staring directly at your eyes, as if they were talking to someone behind it. "i could worship you. call you a god, follow your every footstep. praise your every action."
their words are tempting, you think. the last of your rational thinking snaps you out of it. you find yourself unable to look away from their gaze.
and there it was. the same monstrous smile their victims would see before their deaths. you can't find any strength in yourself to care, however.
"which would you like to pick?"
"it is not as bad as you think it is."
"you're right! it's so much more fucking worse, isn't it?!"
"alright, calm down-"
"MY CHILD IS SUFFERING IN GOD KNOWS WHERE, AND YOU'RE TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN?"
"HE'S NOT ONLY YOUR CHILD, HE IS ALSO MINE! PANICKING LIKE THIS WON'T DO JACK SHIT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND? OR ARE YOU WAY TOO FAR UP YOUR ASS TO FUCKING SEE IT?"
red stains my white undershirt, a shy smile graces your lips. i lick the remaining blood off of your rosy cheeks.
"you look great in red," i say, breath taken by how your eyes trail down, down, down.
"so do you," you answer. "my dearest angel."
i barely have time to grasp the lingering touch you have on my chest as you push me down. your sweetness turns to sour as i fall, your soft gaze turning rough as you watch me go down.
i can't help but think, what a fulfilling way to die, as i watch you turn your back from the balcony. leaving me to my impending doom.
a sick taste on my lips. 's what you are, my dear
don't let go just yet.
sometimes i genuinely wonder if you belong in this world. alot of people don't like you, but they don't know what they're talking about.
i could treat you so much more better than they could.
why won't you help me solve them?