My Dearest Delusion Novels & Stories

“Whoa, you’re really… delusional.” “What?” “Ah, my bad.” “I really spent the night with him!” “Alright, I heard you. I didn’t call you delusional for that part, but for the part where you saw me crying. I didn’t cry, why should I?” “Ha. Because you’re jealous, of course.” “See? You’re delusional. Ah, is the word delusional too harsh? But I don’t have any other words to replace it. Do you have any?”

Because the truth was undeniable now: she had never appeared in that terrible form at all. It was all an illusion. A hallucination. A cruel delusion planted in my mind like poison wine, thick and intoxicating. My wolf whimpered low in my chest, a raw, primal sound vibrating with confusion and deep, bone-deep dread. But I understood now, as clarity sliced through the haze—the terrible truth: what I had seen, what had seared itself into my mind, wasn’t reality. Not fully. It was a glimpse, perhaps a warning from some dark corner of fate.

I kept on thinking that even after we separated, you would still apologize to me the way you did in the past. [It was only after you walked out that I realized I couldn’t cope with changes. I kept thinking about you no matter what I did, and would even dream about you forgiving me and coming back to me every night. Every time, I would excitedly open my eyes only to realize it was only a dream. It was only then that I understood true regret. I won’t disturb you anymore... I wish you nothing but happiness... forever… I’m sorry.] It was from Arthur. Anise stared at the passages for what seemed like ages. By the time Liam went to her with a warm glass of milk, the screen had faded into black bec

“This is new to me. For the first time in my entire existence, I see things differently, and you want to take that?” “That's a delusion. You’re being delusional,” she whispered, but her voice had lost its certainty. “You’ve been so stuck up in your head that you’re starting to think she's doing something to you. Peace? What peace? What do you think she is? Some curse breaker? Get over it.” “No! If this is what it means to be delusional, then I love it. I fucking love it.” I smirked. “Find something else to feed it. That girl in there? She's not staying. You know what, I'd take it upon myself to give ‘your friend’ a peaceful, painless death. Satisfied?”

Between our love for each other, our financial situation, and combined goals for children, I would have bet my life that our future was safe and secure. There were times we would watch other couples struggle, and divorce, only to know our love and marriage was on different level and nothing would ever come between us. Delusional thinking is not an intentional process, but something that convinces your soul and morphs into a belief. I was a believer.

he tells me. “Anytime,” I utter, squeezing his shoulders. With the manner at which he shudders, realization dawns on me. He has been abused too. Maybe worse than what Arlette faced while she was still at home. Who knows. “I’m sorry,” I say, my accent as thick as ever. “No! Don’t worry. It’s nothing. Just a bruise I had from practice.” I murmur. I know a registered lie when I see one, and this one has been rehearsed over and over until it has been polished and refined to turn like this.

Hyde nodded, "Don't be so protective, says the person who materialized out of thin air when Amy was interrupted." Jeremy was speechless. The new song, My Dearest Delusion, was the story of a girl who ran away from her wedding after becoming disillusioned with love, stumbled through her escape, and unexpectedly found her true love along the way. Amy prepared a beautiful, intricately-woven wedding dress, and a pair of white high-heels that were especially suited for running away from weddings.

"I saw the lights, the machines, the moment they switched me off before the world fell apart. What if what I feel for you… everything we have built and shared every day… is not real? What if it is just a simulation, carefully designed to keep us stable and useful while we hold up this empire? How do I know I am truly myself, and not simply what they programmed me to be?" Declan held me so firmly my ribs protested gently beneath my vest, yet he did not loosen his grip for even a second, as if he might merge his soul with mine so no doubt could ever tear us apart. He buried his face in my hair, breathing my frosted breath with a dark, fierce, aching devotion, as if every breath taken beside me

He stared at me for the next few seconds before releasing a breath of defeat and loosened his shoulders. “If that’s what you believe.” He turned to leave. “I have no cure for delusion.” That’s not a delusion. That’s my reality— I harm people I cherish. I truly wanted to retort but choose silence as Razen walked away. When he was gone, my gaze shifted towards the Moon once more. Glaring at the very deity that considered herself so mighty to decide one’s fate so proudly only for that to be proven a wrongdoing. My mind slipped back to the ashes—to the day Crimson Hollows fell.

"Which delusion is this one? Delia, you have never been my wife. You and I had an arrangement, a contract, that you would play the part for the family. I told you from the very first day that I was already married. When you say 'our,' you are confusing me, because there was never a 'me and you.' I never deceived you. I was perfectly transparent from the start. Now, it is time you stop dropping the act of being my wife and go back to your father’s house. Your tenure in this fantasy is over. I am not the man you think you have a claim on." Delia shot up from the chair, her hands shaking as she gripped the edge of my desk. She looked like she was about to lose it completely. “What? Just like th