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In these four walls I sit

Thinking of what has come and gone

Feeling as though lost in a pit

Feeling as weak as a fawn

I think and debate

And consider and wonder

Why it is I’m so full of hate

And found it’s because I’ve been torn asunder

Broken cracked hurt

Stuck in one place

Feeling like nothing more than dirt

Confused as to how I got trapped in one space

I am here

And they are there

But no matter where

I still want to destroy all in the mirror

Stressed angry mad

Is what I always feel

But even though I’m often sad

I know for sure that none of this is real

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For those of you who love ships that are NOT canon, have you ever craved seeing a visual representation of your OTP/stories?

I’m so excited because I finally did it! I can’t draw (obviously) but I can use a video editing software. So I created a movie on my OTP using a video game (Draco/Ginny in Harry Potter and used the Sims 4)

It took me many hours but sooo excited I was able to do it! I love watching these scenes with the two of them *sigh*

What about you? Have you ever done a video, machinima or fanart based on your works or a fanfiction idea?

submitted by /u/FearlessUntamed
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from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans
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The craziest thing about the universe is that we can’t will things into existence. No matter how much you want something you can’t obtain it by wanting, you have to go out and reach for it. Sometimes in the moments between I can feel myself longing for something so bad I’ll explode. The day’s where nothings really going on, or the thirty minutes I take in the morning to let the world buffer for me. Every night I wake up hoping something has changed. Now it’s time I reach for it because my will no long is enough. 

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Tell me about your boyfriend

I asked you to destroy me and
you obliged talking about your boyfriend
taking him out of your pocket and holding hands.

I wanted love that way
I wanted love that I could carry
and I double downed asking
you to annihilate me  

You talked about how wonderful
the years have been and he was
always the one you were looking for

And now I’m beyond dead eating
in front of a mirror thinking of naked
men bent over in bed

That is just how they stood
and I’m a ghost thinking this love
Is lust pink falling out of facets

I can’t wash my face
drifting my head in the small
lake yelling random names
of men that don’t remember mine

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CHARACTER INTRO – Lucinda “Lulu” Sparrow

I hit the door one last time before I sit down with my back to it. I am instantly angry with myself. Having no idea where your purse went is one issue, but the fact that your keys went missing too is much more troubling. I put my head into my hands, my hair cascading protectively around my face. I want to scream but it’s 2 am and I don’t want to risk another fight with a tennant.

“You good?” I hear a female voice say. I look up and meet the eyes of a stranger who I have seen maybe a few times around the building. She’s very pretty in her workout attire, with her curly hair piled on top of head; face framed by errant curls. The thing that really strikes me about her though is the compelling need to trust her. Her whole presence just screams comfort and in this moment, before I even speak to her, I know for certain I need to be her friend.

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Noone tells you whats at the bottom of a bottomless pit, but I know. The pits so deep their more of a shaft of darkness extending farther than your sight. I      know for certain, if you were to jump into such a pit what would happen. Where you would go. Everything has a bottom. An end. Except for those. 

First you fear. Everything in your life has prepared you for the stop. The moment your momentum slams to the earth, and you feel the impact to your very core. Its one of the few laws that govern the universe. Its non negotiable. But you keep falling. The fear subsides to awe.  Wonder taking over as the falling seems like flying.  You begin to feel exhilaration.  You keep falling. 

You fall so long that the  fear eventually comes back.  Not the certain fear,  like before,  where you knew what would happen.  This is pure, chaotic panic.  The panic of the unknown.  The terror that irrefutable laws of the Univers are being broken.  Not just broken,  but disregarded.  Forgotten,  or never having been known.  You scream.  Cry.  Wail. You make deals with the maddening darkness and rushing wind.  You beg for a bottom.  You go so mad the very idea of a sudden, abrupt,  and final stop is the thing you desire most in all creation. You want an end.  An end is less frightening  then the curious falling. It’s a blessing when compared to the unknown.  

The madness changes.  It transforms from lunatic shrieking into a mute calm.  There’s still madness in it though,  however deceptively reasonable it may seem. This is very heart of madness, boiled down and broken into its rawest, most atomic form.  You never stop.  Falling and falling. 

Until you see a light.  At first its so faint, like a speck of dust brushing past you on a windy day. It grows, becoming something noticeably more. A speck of dust to the tiniest flake of snow. Hope swells in your breast, not shirking back the madness, but murging with it. There may be an end, you shriek into the nothingness. As you fall it gets closer and larger. The hope melts away. You feel foolish for thinking there was no bottom. No end. The light blossoms and grows. Its brightness hurts your eyes. Soon your flailing and struggling against the wind. Fighting the stop. You endeavor to stay aloft. The brightness forces you to squint.  The radiance forces you to squeeze then shut, tighter and tighter.  The light gets brighter and brighter,  even behind your shuttered eyes.  Thats it.  You stay there,  blind and deaf,  nothing but your thoughts.  For eternity.  

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What makes him want me?

The answer is easy and short: nothing.

Nothing will change his toxic way of thinking, only seeing your body and the way he can use it.

He’ll fuck you, because he wants to dominate someone, he fills you up, because he wants satisfaction, he’ll cuddle you, because he needs to calm his storms. But nothing of that has anything to do with you. 

He doesn’t want you - he wants what you do for him. 

He doesn’t miss you - he misses the way you make him feel.

He doesn’t think about you - he thinks of the whore you are, when you’re in his bed.

And it hurts, I know that. I’ve been there and it seems like I’m there again.

Sadly, nothing can change that he doesn’t see human beings, he sees objects to use. There’s nothing in this world that’ll make him see you.

And as long as he doesn’t change his view, as long as he doesn’t see you - he’ll never want you for you.

What a psychotic, cruel way to think.

So better run girl, run.

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I’m not talking about the plot of a story per se (oh boy, that’s another post…) but one single plot point in a relatively good story that you think is lazy, illogical, pretentious or confusing.

For me it will always be ludonarrative dissonance. Like, of course, MC can go around and get dozens of characterless, uninteresting goons killed for the sake of their goal. But in the end they can’t bring themselves to kill the Bad Guy because “Then I will be just as bad as them!” Yeah, tell that to the mourning families of those you have killed.

submitted by /u/classicdazel
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from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans
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