Novae-Luna

It’s with a cleverly concealed wince that he hears her scream it out at him, tears obscuring her face; he’s not sure whether she’s drunken with sorrow or sober with worries this time, but nevertheless, she’ll go away soon. Kris always does. Either that, or he goes. He personally isn’t really sure how he feels towards her. Sure, he definitely harbors an immense respect for her; it’s hard not to, to see those eyes of hers always shielding something- he wishes he would have that ability, but he’s always only been able to try. He might be in love with her. (He probably is.) He’s always been able to

Summary: [I really think we could've been good together. It wasn't, y'know, doomed from the start. Heh. But that's you, alright, always messing things up. God, if you had confessed in any other way or had acted later on in any other manner, we probably could've worked it out. ...Yeah. Heh. You were a strange one. ...Yeah. Goodbye.] _________________ Y'know, I never really did find out your last name. I guess it was more than a little expected, seeing how little we knew each other. I didn't even know your grades in the only class we had ever shared together; and you sat next to me, helping me with the stuff I didn't know, teaching what flew

There is despair In the air

School just started. My brother just farted.

There is a monster in my bed, and she has my face. No one else can see her. Mother and Father say that I shouldn't associate myself with monsters. They say that monsters aren't real, and that I'm just "halloo-ci-nateing" or something like that. Mother and Father don't really like me much. They smile at other children. They say the monster's evil. I don't think the monster's evil though; she smiles at me like Father smiles at our neighbors, and although she never talks to me, she plays with me and makes me laugh. I can spend whole afternoons with her, and no one would ever find out because they can't see her. It's our secret. Father never

 *redemptionshipping (Silver/Kris from Pokemon) oneshot but I couldn't write it in the title.* *** Run. To you, who will die by my hands this lifetime: You do not know who I am right now, and that is fine. [Or perhaps, maybe a change of words should be in order; 'fine' undermines safety and reassurance- perhaps 'permissible' would be more to your liking.] You shall not realize who I am, by the time you lay gasping underneath my hands, pleading and begging like the weak urchin you are, your eyes gouged out with the pain you had once inflicted. Ah, how you had once belittled others, calling them weak and them pushing them; when in reality yo

HEy tHeRE. WaNt To PLaY a GAmE? I kNoW tHE bESt One. LeT'S jUsT RoLL tHIS pAIr of DiCE aNd lEt Us sEE WhOSe LiFE yoU'Ll LiVE- No NEeD tO WorRY, iT'S a OnE OuT oF SIx CHaNcE!In your first life you were kind of bored with all of it. There was nothing interesting, everything methodical; it was utterly boring. Living your life in boredom, you trudged the streets, not bothering to care about the other things in your life. Ah, how wonderful it would be; to live a life of exhilaration, to give up this meaningless life in search of something other than routine. Ah, but you were bored; so, so, so bored. "Oh God, please, let me have a different life

Somewhat of a Prompt? I really deterred from this, this doesn't even mention empathy besides for like one time: "Empathy is first of all an act of imagination"- Rebecca Solnit's The Faraway Nearby _________ They're all annoying. Irritating, like the buzz of nonexistent flies swarming during the night. They've told you that you're insane. They've said that you're cruel. Well then. Ahaha, it's not as if you'd ever care enough to listen to them! Your name's Arthur; not that you'd ever want anyone here to even call you by name. Oh, how depraved these morons are; always moping like the hormonal teenagers they are, screaming about their heightene