[author's note]
I don't think any writer can describe the sheer relief you get of writing something after months of writer's block. I don't even care that this is probably the most self-indulgent, self-projection, what-even-is-this? fic I've ever written. I am so relieved that I just managed to write something. I cranked this thing out in like two hours - it was supposed to be 1K but then five thousand words later, here we are - and basically projecting all my trauma on here.
When I decided that I would finally write a fic from Nobita's point of view, I didn't mean this. But it's what I got, so I guess I have no other choice. (You're not the master of words, when you're a writer, words enslave you.)
Anyway, hope you enjoy. God knows how long this motivation will last.
TW: While it is nothing heavy or graphically described, there is a throwaway paragraph about Nobita purposefully pushing his limits and harming himself to feel something. Which includes turning the water scalding hot, sacrificing sleep to study, walking on despite physical pain in order to feel more of it, writing even as his hands cramp, and gripping pens way too tight. People probably won't agree, but I do consider this in self-destructive and self-harming behavior. So, if this triggers you, here's a heads up.
Happy Reading!
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
To The Very Marrow Of My Bones
Hayran KurguHow would he articulate this sense of detachment-to his body, his emotions, to everything? It's akin to puppeteering tangled strings, a complexity too convoluted for a world that demands a single-word answer: 'fine.' So he diligently completes his a...
