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Rocks on Taming Spiritual Pets: My Spiritual Pet is a Female Zombie
Omg I wanna read more please
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(3)(1)
Rocks on Sleeping Dead
🏅
Fiction can give you the world. Anything. Literally anything. Whatever your heart desires. Do you want joy? Do you want satisfaction? You just need to ask. You just need to wish it.
Maybe, today, you are wishing for something else. Something terrible and murky. Humans are suckers for the majesty of pain, after all. It will burrow into your heart, slowly caress it, and then hollow it out. I can give it to you.
I can give you a very peculiar love tale, made of bones, made of flesh, made of sorrow. I will steep it in intimacy and the most ruthless tenderness. It will be uncomfortable but so lukewarm, tepid, like a body slowly getting cold. And it will be written so carefully, so attentively, that you'll be simply disarmed. You'll try to appeal to morality, or sense. You'll try to escape by saying it's too much. Too strange. No use, dear friend. The best gifts cannot be refused.
You'll enjoy it, you'll feel its warmth, until it simply dissipates away. Until it's time for the end. The void it leaves is yours to fill. You must take comfort in the fact that this, this is inevitable. It always was. It was so from the begging, from the moment you laid eyes on the title itself. It was just waiting for you to get there. Maybe the way to getting there was all that mattered all along. And after walking it, closing with ceremony would be unnecessary. Almost offensive.
GAI (Grand Accolade of Ivern™️). I have nothing to complain about, the moment this comic used a teenage girl as a smoothie I should've known what I was getting myself into. But, still, Asada Nemui, you better run if you ever happen to meet me. I usually reciprocate gifts.
Fiction can give you the world. Anything. Literally anything. Whatever your heart desires. Do you want joy? Do you want satisfaction? You just need to ask. You just need to wish it.
Maybe, today, you are wishing for something else. Something terrible and murky. Humans are suckers for the majesty of pain, after all. It will burrow into your heart, slowly caress it, and then hollow it out. I can give it to you.
I can give you a very peculiar love tale, made of bones, made of flesh, made of sorrow. I will steep it in intimacy and the most ruthless tenderness. It will be uncomfortable but so lukewarm, tepid, like a body slowly getting cold. And it will be written so carefully, so attentively, that you'll be simply disarmed. You'll try to appeal to morality, or sense. You'll try to escape by saying it's too much. Too strange. No use, dear friend. The best gifts cannot be refused.
You'll enjoy it, you'll feel its warmth, until it simply dissipates away. Until it's time for the end. The void it leaves is yours to fill. You must take comfort in the fact that this, this is inevitable. It always was. It was so from the begging, from the moment you laid eyes on the title itself. It was just waiting for you to get there. Maybe the way to getting there was all that mattered all along. And after walking it, closing with ceremony would be unnecessary. Almost offensive.
GAI (Grand Accolade of Ivern™️). I have nothing to complain about, the moment this comic used a teenage girl as a smoothie I should've known what I was getting myself into. But, still, Asada Nemui, you better run if you ever happen to meet me. I usually reciprocate gifts.
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(4)
I love it.