{ silly hours }
this is js.... wtv..... like idk what to write, like this fic might be a tad disturbing since im not rlly in a good state rn oh and dark ig
or silly :3
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He stared down at the ground, smiling to himself as tears rolled off his cheeks. he hated every inch of his body. Every part of him was screaming at him to tear himself to shreds. He hated this feeling.
The feeling of weakness, his mind and body would mock and ridicule him over any feeling. Especially weakness, it was forbidden. He was disgusting if he ever felt any emotion at all. That if he didnt fit his title, if he fell soft. He would become worthless.
He'd be nothing. If he wasnt the strongest or deadliest, then he amounted to nothing. That he'd be frowned upon, mocked and made fun of for showing any sign of weakness.
His fear amounted to absolutely anything. Even in fights, he was more worried about his footing, his movement, the way he held his scythe or sword, or even the way he fought.
He was always scared of messing up or embarassing himself because he believed that it would ruin his reputation, that if he messed up at all it would change what everyone thought of him.
He'd stress anyone other then himself about their mental health and their health. Reminding them that they should eat.
Somestimes he thinks hes a hypocrite for thinking that way. Because he'd neglect his own needs because he would forget. Sometimes even starving for days on end without a single notice.
Sure he'd eat something, but it wasnt enough for any regular human body. It'd be to little to actually count as fuel.
He never imagined that he'd ever take down those walls around his heart, to finally take off the mask without the fear of being stabbed in the back. He had always been cautious, regardless of who it was.
His title made it so that he couldnt trust a soul, that he was cursed to stay alone. He'd forever live within the birdcage that was the stereotype of being imtimidating, scary, cold and most of all strong.
"Im disgusting," he said, as he looked into the mirror. He failed to recognize the person in the mirror. That all he saw was a monster. He couldnt tell who was the person in the mirror. If you asked what he saw, he wouldnt be able to tell you. Because he didnt quite know either. He would never imagine anyone loving a face like his. He wasnt quite sure if it was his.
It wasnt unlike him to judge his every move, mocking and teasing himself in a part of his mind as it screamed and yelled. He was torturing himself as he felt chains on his legs, weighing him down begging him to stop. But he never did.
He'd drown under water for hours on end, forever suffocating. Suffering under his own words and the feeling that felt like a weight on his shoulders. He would carry that burden until it killed him.
Sometimes he wore the mask for way too long. Like it was stuck on his face. You'd imagine it would never come off. His mask of facades that hid any grimace on his face. Never tainting the smile worn.
He walked his own path, carrying the weight of the world and others. He'd walk down the path that was made for him, one he swore he'd forever walk alone.
Eventually enough, he had met someone along his travels. A lady who went by name of Ariana. She was a timid girl, yet oddly kind and polite.
For some reason. He slowly began to fall outside of the mask. He found himself always complimenting her. How could he not? She was gorgeous, absolutely divine.
The suns ray always laid on skin perfectly, like the sun was made for her. Sometimes, he even believed she outshone the sun. he couldnt believe how easily everything fell down when she came into his life.
That she really did change my fate. She was gorgeous when i first laid my eyes on her. Shes still absolutely gorgeous now.
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I TOTALLY DIDNT JUST START WRITING ABT MY GF NUH UHHHHHH I DID NO SUCH THING OKAY.......... totaly not a clownpierce kin i swear promise bro