I ramble, thirst and sometimes write fics.
Warren Worthington, Ben Solo, Hassan el Shabbaz and Eddie Munson
deserved better.
Matt Murdock needs a hug.
MASTERLIST
A3O
i’m sharing here what is meant to be the first chapter (out of gods know how many). for now, you may expect angst, alternating POV, soulmate AU undertones and reincarnation related themes 👀👀
gender neutral reader ofc ❣️
for more details and upcoming chapters, hmu on A3O!
~~~~~
A stinging pain where one’s heart should reside, but could the mighty Desire have a heart after all?
What is this feeling, this tearfully painful fire burning from within, begging to be let out, begging not to be suppressed. To scream.
You’re as beautiful as the day they left you. The hair slightly different, clothes suitable for the current human era and yet somehow completely unmistakeable. Completely you.
And you just passed them by, down the street in a pouring rain, just like that, and yet completely knocking Desire of their rhythm. As if time on Earth never existed, as if it never touched you, not even once.
Unaffected by the centuries that passed you both by. Hundreds of years of what should have been only longing and loneliness.
Or maybe you’ve been blessed with the sweet oblivion, leaving your heart free and your mind curious and bright. Just the way you were when they’ve first met you, when Desire crashed right into your conventional little life.
In the darkest of ages, you, a mere mortal, too smart for your own good, too captivating for Desire to resist you.
But could it really be you, after all this time?
After so much time, so many centuries. You should have been… dead.
„Oh! Excuse me sweetheart, didn’t see you there.” Another pedestrian too polite for Desire’s liking. The person was even as blatant to continue speaking but the Endless dismissed their presence entirely.
In the midst of all this astonishment Desire’s powers somehow remained intact. And yet their golden gaze was glued only to you, following your footsteps on the cold damp pavement, persuasive as ever.
But still, they couldn’t draw your attention.
Those piercing eyes were now also a reflection of unfamiliar and undesired desperation.
If their siblings could only see them now, stripped of usual confidence, smirk washed off their face, speechless while their skin burned from within. A sight for Dream’s sore eyes, Desire would think.
Maybe it’s their sibling’s vile trick after all? What if they all teamed up in a cruel payback for the times they’ve been fooled by the power of lust? Did Dream have something to do with this? Were you just a projection, another project of his?
Your pace is fast, you’re in a rush, but where are you going? Do you have a spouse, are you married? Desire should know but feared the answer all the same. You’ve probably been in love a thousand times already ever since they’ve left you. How could they’ve left you…
That fateful night it was also raining, but the rain was much heavier, practically blocking out any other sound with its monotonous hum. Curtain-like walls separating people from one another on the streets, those who dared to walk outside at least.
Desire’s just exited another one of the feasts held by a local nobleman after they planted another successfully spreading scandal in high society’s circles. It’s always been easy to play with people’s darkest desires just to sneakily smuggle them into the spotlight. The public will boil, there will be more and more lies spreading around. That part has always been enjoyable for the young Endless, but suddenly Desire’s attention crumbled into dust with the most captivating pair of eyes they’ve ever seen.
And those eyes stared right back into their golden flaming ones with such intensity and adoration that the infamous Endless, having handled their business already decided to stay on Earth a little longer.
It started off simply, with lust and Desire’s charm - their eldest trick of all. But from the very beginning something felt different than all the other times with all the other ones.
You didn’t even seem to need those tricks, their magic, the hypnotic look in their eyes. Enchanting, but unnecessary. Because the desire was already there.
Then came love.
Nothing can ever be too easy for too long, not in this world. You had dreams, undeveloped potential, desires you were too shy to reach out to.
Desire felt like they were stopping you, holding you back with their endless life and duties. They knew that eventually you’d start asking questions, you’d think that they’re cheating or hiding something from you. And Desire just knew that, cause they've grown to know you, they've grown attached. You were too smart not to notice things.
Just the way you would notice how others stared at them in awe as you walked together. And soon enough you started to recognize the lust and adoration in people’s eyes when they caught Desire’s gaze. Your Desire, your love.
And then came the preachers, the envious who’d spit in your general direction, who’d send rocks flying through your window in the middle of the night, all the threats. Those would call you satan's emissaries, sinners. But is it ever a sin to love?
Desire knew back then that being with you, having you, was a privilege that they were abusing. It was no longer a game, nor was it harmless. Not when you and your life were at stake. Not when your heart was at a knife’s distance.
A day like that had to come, preceded by long nights of fighting and even longer periods of hiding away in their realm, away from you, thinking, seeking solution that wouldn’t require letting you go. Until one day they didn't come back anymore.
“Why are you following me?”
And there you are. The present day you. Close enough to touch. You look healthier, nourished, maybe even a bit younger perhaps. Features smoother somehow, but it suits you. Everything does.
Even your frown when a glint of confusion flashes in your gaze. It’s been so long, so long, and Desire cannot help the soft smile that graces their face. Of course you don’t understand, it doesn’t make sense at all, even to them! It’s impossible and yet…
Their brows twitch in an attempt to explain. But how does one explain so much.
“I-“
So pathetic for someone who belongs to the Endless, but what could they say when they’re so at loss for words. And you’re right there, in front of them, breathtaking just by being you.
Impatience and a dash of anger lingers in your voice when you speak again.
the sheer offensiveness of rereading something you wrote, discovering that, hey, it’s actually pretty good, and then reaching the end, wherein you realize that if you want more you actually have to write it
like i couldn’t write anything coherent for months and months on end, only to come up with a brilliant multi-chaptered story based on the idea of reincarnation after literally 5 seconds of seeing Mason Alexander Park’s Desire of the Endless in The Sandman
no but that text post abt writing being dead on tumblr - not specifically bc ppl are leaving it but bc readers don’t reblog stuff they read/like - made me think...
imagine daydreaming. and coming up with ideas on random occasions, maybe at work/school/classes. imagine that those ideas involve characters you love, ones that have fandoms and in those fandoms - big or small - there are people just as invested in those characters, in their evolution, history, everything that goes unspoken on the big/small screen, in the books/comic books.
then imagine spending hours on a single wip, just because all these ideas, thoughts occupy your mind, they need space to expand. imagine having many rough ideas written down in some doc, imagine having many of said docs.
and imagine that you polish one idea for days/weeks, just to get the feelings/description/dialogue perfect and fitting so somehow it becomes a story. imagine that people are interested in the idea, so you post the story once it’s finished.
now imagine getting asks/messages from people who liked your story, imagine the encouragement, the thumbs up that make you keep going.
because it finally feels like your idea wasn’t just good in your head. the validation of your creativity, of the hours/days/weeks spent on perfecting your idea, and in consequence also your craft - which, trust me, gets better with time and with all the next stories that you write down with the said kudos from others.
comments/messages matter so much. they are much like the ‘thank you letters’, with verbal and physical you give creators during conventions, events like comic con etc. if you got the chance to meet your favourite actor/actress/musician/screenwriter/director you’d probably want to thank them for their work, you’d tell them how their art impacted you. because creators do that to you, they inspire, they motivate us. and they need just as motivation and feedback! and then treat reblogs as those who purchased the art that those creators created. they spread a message that a certain piece of work is worth attention, that it should be read/seen/known. that it should be spread and given the - dingdingding - attention!!!
we like to take online creators - especially those who post their work anonymously - for granted. because there will always be someone willing to post their work for free for a small chance for validation, right?
what i’m trying to say is, our interests shape our lives. some of those online creators, with enough encouragement, will be brave enough to make their creative skill a part of their career, a part of their daily life. you never know how one’s life looks like. and sometimes that one message might just determine whether a creator will or will not continue to pursue their dream. we’re all just dreamers in the end.
“tumblr is so dead right now, no one’s writing” yeah becky, no one wants to write for u after rudely demanding something in their ask box, only hearting the post, and not supporting any of the writers u want to “stay” on tumblr dot com.
It doesn't matter if you're a slow writer or a fast writer. If you're writing 1000 words every day or 100 words in a month. If you're amazing at starting new wips, but never really finish one. Even if all the beautiful stories are just in your head for now. You're still a writer.
okay but what if I just created an AU where we have Robin AND Eddie since the 2nd season (as we should) and it’s all bi confusion, family drama and besties to soulmates kinda situation where the reader is forced to move to Hawkins the way Max and Billy did but the whole plot is actually following Eddie’s mixtape I carefully created bc hyperfixation is a chronic illness and I cannot focus on studying instead????!?!
discoholicmusic
yousharknotpass
origamiaround
kaledo-art
janainaart
stormborns
