11:11
- Reads 15
- Votes 1
- Parts 1
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Fri, May 22, 2015
I saw you, and I remembered. Everything. Your soft touch. Your pale lips. Your hatred of me smoking. My love for you..
*male point of view*
All Rights Reserved
#383
halloween
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MAZE OF MEMORIES
*EMOTIONAL CONTENT WARNING* Please be aware that this story explores angst themes, including: - angst and emotional turmoil - Schizophrenia and mental health struggles - Grief, heartbreak, and emotional distress - Death of a main character - Miscarriage and pregnancy loss If you're sensitive to these topics or have experienced related trauma *PROCEED WITH CARE*Complete
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 | ✓
𝐍𝐢𝐥𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐜. 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲. 𝐎𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭? 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭..Complete
betwixt
There is something betwixt good and bad; love and hate; even life and death.Complete
𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 , Scream VI
𝑆𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑣𝑖 ✗ 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ❝𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗺𝗲, (𝗬/𝗡).❞ ━ 𝗧𝗪: 「 - 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 . 𝗴𝗼𝗿𝗲 . 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 . 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲 . 」 ━━ ❝ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘇𝘆.. ❞ ━━━━━━━━ 𝖨𝖭 𝖶𝖧𝖨𝖢𝖧: 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾'𝗌 𝖺 𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗒. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾'𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖽. Ethan landry ☓ gn!reader . spoilers . gore . blood . death . language @𝐱𝐢𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐜 2023 I do not give permission to rewrite, unless it's for another language please ask first.Complete
And Yet, Here You Are
Some things don't end with a goodbye. Some things just... stop. Like the way streetlights flicker at midnight. Like the way old receipts fade in your pocket. Like the way you tell yourself I'll remember this forever-but then one day, you don't. Soren was like autumn. Always carrying the last warmth of something fleeting. Always moving, always laughing, always pretending like nothing mattered. He had red-tipped ears from the cold, brown everywhere-his hair, his jacket, his shoes-but his eyes were green. Really green. The kind you don't forget, even when everything else blurs. We never had a plan. Not for the summer. Not for after. Not for anything, really. We just walked through empty streets, stole dumb things no one would miss, sat in places we weren't supposed to be, and pretended we had all the time in the world. And maybe we did. Until we didn't.
Unspoken Poetry
⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ if any of the tagged things are sensitive to read about or makes you feel uncomfortable, please do not read! I'd hate to be the reason you feel either way.Complete
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